"What was that all about?" Said Lefthand, as D slowed to a trot to enter the wood on the edge of town. "Another Dunpeal Hunter? I thought you were the only one around these parts."
"She could be a new hunter." D suggested.
"Yeah, well I hope so, that way we'll find the poor kid before she can even get her bearings straight." Cackled Lefthand.
"Don't be so sure." Said D.
"What do you mean by that?" Lefthand snapped.
"I'm saying, don't jump to conclusions. You didn't know me when I was a new hunter. Dunpeals have natural instincts and reflexes that make them perfect for the hunt, it's their vampire blood. When I was a new hunter I let these instincts run wild. I was more reckless. I took greater risks. She may be good competition still. She may even be a danger to us, if we aren't careful." D and Lefthand both paused in silence then, trotting slowly through the black wood.
"So, where are we going to start?" Lefthand asked after a while. D didn't answer at first, not sure himself what to do. Ophelia, he knew, was careful, and tricky, and he hadn't been prepared for tracking her the last time. One of the reasons he'd failed. He knew his last approach was not going to be the same one he could use now. He had to think the way she thought. This boy, he almost was sure, she wouldn't kill. He was the son of a man of power and respect in the town… Also he was young, foolish, and handsome. No, she would not dispose of him yet. She wanted to break him down… She wanted him to want her life before she gave it to him. But where would she take him? Somewhere safe, unseen by human eyes… somewhere peaceful… and beautiful. A place that would make the life of even a vampire glamorous to a man's eyes.
D was right; Ophelia had taken him to Centelion. It was a sort of haven for demons and vampires, where there were glittering caves with rows fine mahogany coffins for each day, weak, helpless villages nearby, and loud, extravagant parties of feasting and music each night. It was a place surrounded by spells and myths that meant many either didn't believe it existed, or didn't care to ever find out. Huge towering trees surrounded a grassy glen that had fountains; ancient stone carved shelters, stages, and strings of blood red lanterns that dyed the nightly parties scarlet. And James, though petrified at first, slowly began to appreciate the beauty of this place and people, their ancientness, and majesty.
And Ophelia, she was so kind to him, and so beautiful. In the eyes of men and vampires alike Ophelia had radiant features. A slim body, an ample bosom, snow white skin, deep red lips, and sparkling ruby eyes. Her hair was rippling, black as a river flowing on a moonless night, and her laugh chimed like merry bells. James was already falling under the spell of her beauty, and he began to even enjoy the nights of her parties, though the food for him was scarce. He sometimes was frightened by the way she would throw hungry glances at his long neck, and he couldn't help but notice her long fangs that she flashed along with her smiles. He did not want to become a vampire, not yet. But he was at the beginning of the road that Ophelia wanted him to travel. She knew he found her attractive, and he also knew that the lifestyle she led was beginning to seem more compelling to him as well. And she smiled inwardly, the night she invited him to sleep in her coffin, as he readily accepted. She knew he could not resist her. But not yet. She still had to wait some time before he would be under her spell and want to become a vampire. Then she would grant his desire. But… she thought, Not yet.