The League of Extraordinary Gentlewomen

Author's Note: And we're back to the scene of my beloved debut – the Carpathian midnight of haunted Transylvania, short though it may be. I have missed it here.

Sapphire Dragon: My computer tends to react weirdly to Chinese characters. It is not beneath translating them into unreadable squiggles. So I stick to hanyupinyi. I suppose it must be a high honour to be asked to write a fanfiction on someone's work. Thank you, then!

Manveri Mirkiel: Really, dear, you shouldn't go about capitalising words in reviews when the capitalised words are horrendously misspelt. It's alarming. I never did tell you about Mina, did I? I shall when I see you. If I remember.

Reicheru: Of course you never heard of Guo Xiang. Your literary tastes leave much to be desired. Think of all the things you're missing out on. You always ask how long fics are. Tut!

Celeblas, Silver Leaf: Yellow?

Akwyn: I admire your tenacity. It must be difficult to read fics where you have no idea who everyone is. I wish I had more readers like you. In most crossover fics like mine, one has no idea who everyone is.

I know my choice of Mina's 'replacement' was rather unexpected. I hope you do not think it unfounded. It's not Selene from 'Underworld' as some might have expected – I'm not entirely fond of her, and I have too many cold, heartless, angsty and black-leather-clad action chicks wandering around in here. I own not the vampire I have favoured – she belongs to the same person who owns Anck-su-namun. I think. Perhaps I was biased.

4. The Stake and the Sacrificial Post

Midnight.

They say the stroke of midnight is a sound to strike fear into mortal hearts, and they say so rightly. Midnight is a time of darkness, when the night is stifled in silence, and every tiny sound is a death-knell to the mind. Evil walks abroad at midnight.

It was midnight now.

It also happened to be a full moon.

Two double omens – of evil. The perfect ambush.

They were waiting.


The forest was dark. Eerily so. The strange noises were not helping things.

Overhead, the round moon circled the night, a faceless, cadaverous, glow in the sea of darkness. The stars seemed all to be out tonight – not a pinpoint of starlight to lighten the harsh glow of the moon. But still the pallor of the moon could not penetrate the thick canopy of the forest, which hid so many secrets. It was almost with relief that the moonlight fell and pooled in the wide clearing, set apart from the trees, throwing the shadows into faint relief.

The sacrificial post rose like a pointed finger in the middle of the clearing. It was an ancient, traditional post – the carved charms and prayers into the side could still be seen amidst the faded roughness of the wood. It was shaped like a cross – a stark, black cross that rose almost as high as the lower-hanging tree branches, and it had a hidden threat to it, akin to that that gallows produce. Human sacrifices were bound onto the cross, their wrists twisted behind their heads and tied with rope together behind the upper branch of the cross. They were bound there for the creatures of the night to feast upon.

The sacrificial victim who was currently bound to this particular post was female. Her face was shadowed by the fall of hair hanging over it. She was not very tall – her feet, when she was dangling, barely touched the ground. From a distance, it would appear that she was hanging limp. Only on close observation, could anyone have noticed the whitened knuckles behind the crosshead, the taut muscles in every limb, the tension of readiness and waiting.

Far off in the night, something stirred.

The victim heard it. Between the strands of hair, her eyes gleamed as they turned upwards.

Another rustle. A shadow crossed over the face of the moon.

The long fingernails dug into the wood of the post, gouging little chips out.

Wreathed in the shadows of the night, drawn by the inexorable pull of the sacrificial post, the creature folded its wings for a dive and came down like the sword of an avenging angel, a flash through the darkness, a falcon bearing down on its prey.

The victim raised her head. The ponytail fell away from her face, and she looked straight into the hideous countenance of the vampire that was swooping down on her, teeth bared, hair swirling, massive wings spread. Their eyes locked for a split second, and then the woman was gone.

The vampire swerved aside to avoid smashing into the post. She shrieked, banked up and rose above the treetops, casting around for her prey.

She spotted the woman crouched in the shadow of the post. The ropes on her hands were undone – how that had come about, she did not know. But she would not escape. The vampire attacked again.

Deathstrike saw her coming and flung herself aside at the last minute. This was the part of the plan where she would be in most danger – already she had had one close shave during her escape from the post. She hadn't expected the vampire to move so fast. She had just barely somersaulted backwards over the post in the nick of time and wrenched the loose bonds free.

She wasn't out of the forest yet, though. Both literally and metaphorically. She was still in the immediate vicinity of being eaten.

Where were the others?

Something gold whistled through the air. It sliced the vampire's pale shoulder and embedded itself in a tree trunk behind. Anck-su-namun leapt casually down from the branches above and came to stand beside Deathstrike, who had her nails out. Together they faced the vampire on the other side of the clearing, the sacrificial post in between.

The vampire had changed from the winged horror she had been in the air, into an exquisitely beautiful woman with a raven river of glimmering hair and features like an Italian marble goddess. Her clothes were definitely strange. The sleeves resembled long green draperies, and the collar was stiff and archaic. As to the rest – well, they weren't exactly like Anck-su-namun's, but they had the same idea about the flesh parade concept.

The vampire raised long pallid fingers and touched the bleeding gash on her shoulder, which healed in seconds. The glinting canines protruded when she laughed. When she spoke, her voice was a richly deep contralto. "You missed," she called mockingly.

"I never miss," retorted Anck-su-namun. "That was just a warning dagger. The next one…" she drew a shining silver rod from behind her back, and pressed something. It opened up into something infinitely more dangerous. "The next one will be a silver stake, and it will land in your heart."

The vampire took a step forward. Her opponent's hand automatically gripped the stake and raised it to shoulder height. "Try me," laughed the vampire. She transformed into winged form and took to the air once more.

Anck-su-namun threw. The stake whizzed through the air straight at the vampire, who shrieked an inhuman shriek and flung herself aside. "Now!" screamed Anck-su-namun.

McGonagall Apparated behind the vampire, wand at the ready. "Stupefy!"

The winged figure froze, and collapsed with a dull thud onto the ground in human form. She was fighting the spell, however – McGonagall knew that this sort of vampire was somehow strengthened against magic. It would not hold her long.

Lara emerged from the cover of a bush and drew the silver stake from the bark of the tree beside her. She leaned over and held it poised over the vampire's heart. The others were coming out gradually, waiting around the edge of this extraordinary tableau.

"You were staked once, Verona," said Lara evenly. "I don't think you'll survive it again."

The dark liquid eyes were haunted by memories and an unshakeable knowledge of the curse they held. Verona's breast heaved and fell as she drew ragged breath. For a moment, the long lashes veiled her enigmatic eyes – and then they were unveiled. Somehow, these new eyes had more of the human side of her in them.

Verona sighed. "It has been so long. Too long. No, you are right – I could not."

"Very good," agreed Lara. "Can we talk?"

Verona sat up and shook the Stunning Spell off like a duck shakes off water. The six women instantly tensed, ready to spring on her if necessary. But the vampire bride merely smoothed out her tattered green frills and folded her creamy arms. She looked statuesque.

"Very well," she said, and smiled. Again the ivory points of her fangs glinted in the moonlight.

Lara cut straight to the chase. "We'd like you to join us to investigate robot attacks and save the world."

"Really?"

"Yes."

Verona blinked slowly and deliberately. Secretly, Lara was glad that she blinked often. There was an unholy and demonic power in those eyes that none of them could have stood undiluted for long. "What have you to offer me?"

"Not very much," admitted Lara. "Safety? Amnesty?"

"I have been doing very well for myself over the last century, thank you."

"It surprises me you survived so long." Both of them glanced around, with visible surprise, at McGonagall. It was a rare incident to hear her offer comment. "Did not Lara mention that you were staked before? You were thought to be vanquished."

"I was not kind enough to finish up the process so easily." Verona rose slowly to her feet. The stake followed her ascent painstakingly. "Pardon, but I find this position unbecoming. But anyway, that first staking gave me a lot to think about, though. From the moment the stake entered my body, I was freed from the spell of my master Dracula. And I looked back on all the things I had done when I was with him, and I was horrified."

Anck-su-namun shifted on her feet. Glancing at her out of the corner of her eye, Holly thought she looked a trifle uncomfortable.

"I do not drink human blood very often now," went on Verona. "I cannot bring myself to. Today was an exception – I could not fight the sacrificial post. I do apologize. I think I shall join you."

Lara blinked. That was sudden.

"Yes," mused the once-Bride, "I think I shall. Call it a penance of sorts, if you wish. Should we not be going now?"

For a moment they were silent – and then Lara put the stake away. "Yes. Let's be going."

Everyone instantly rose and followed, Verona among them. The assimilation and acceptance of her into the group was immediate – no questions, no funny looks. She might be a vampire and extraordinary – but this was after all, the League of Extraordinary Gentlewomen.

The seven women set off through the darkened forest towards the direction of the shuttle port. At last, their League was complete. And at last, they could actually get started.

End of Chapter

Next chapter coming…Sleepless on Surveillance

In which the League get off at last on the real mission, Anck-su-namun and Verona have some interesting conversations and Guo Xiang gets pins-and-needles.