Here's the next chapter, early by my standards. I have a few shout outs this time but i'll keep them brief. Devil'sfangirl, i know who you are and i hope you won't try to ruin the ending for these folks. Embrace-The-Darkness, no worries, I'm just as bad at some things. We're all a little evil. Thanks to Keep Me In The Shadows, your reviews always say nice stuff. Jared, if you have a problem with my characters, I appreciate you notifying me but I can't change anything if you aren't specific. What's wrong with them? As far as I could tell in the game Lucia had no personality so any I could give her had to be an improvement. Get back to me if you can. Thanks also to VergilSparda666, always a pleasure and I agree she's not always done well. Hmm, that wasnt so breif after all. Oh well, here comes the main feature. Bye, Skaye.

For a moment Dante sat shocked at the idea of giving his blood to a vampire. He was sceptical, what good could it possibly do? How could the blood of a half demon cure near death in a vampire? The lady was clearly locked out of her head and lost her keys. But then he thought what the hell? It wouldn't do him any harm to try and at least trying and failing to help Genevieve was better than just laughing at her and refusing on the grounds of scepticism. He also in a strange way felt sorry for her, a human in the midst of a vampire court clinging desperately to the one thing that linked her to them, to her husband, perhaps to her sanity. He nodded again;

"I'll do what I can, Genevieve. I can't promise it'll work but I'll try.

Her eyes lit up with happiness and a slight feverish desperation.

"It will work, I'm sure of it. Thank you, Dante, thank you, bless you."

He was a little freaked by the extent of her gratitude but she was smiling and clearly happy so he wasn't going to rain on it. He smiled a little himself at the irony of her blessing. It was nice to have a grateful client for a change. Normally all he got was a kind of edginess along with horror looking at the mess he'd made of their living room or nave or vast gothic castle.

Genevieve stood. She held out a hand to help Dante up and led him to a large pair of white doors at the end of the room opposite to where they had entered. She opened them softly and stepped inside. The room was different again from the one they had just left. The walls were soft cream inlaid with gold and all the colours seemed muted and natural. The light was also faint; a few candles behind smoked glass gave the place easy warmth that was miles away from the harsh carnal red of the upper floors or the airy green of Genevieve's room. There was a massive posted bed in the centre of the room on which lay like a sculpture behind voile curtains a truly gorgeous young woman. Her hair was golden and gently wavy, her skin was pale cream and her form was frail and delicate like a bird's. Dante was not usually awkward with women, quite the opposite in face but now his breath literally caught in his throat. Genevieve gestured lovingly at the girl;

"My Madeline; now that you see her do you understand why I must save her?"

Dante nodded dumbly then shook his head again to clear it and walked up to the bed. It was like approaching a shrine. He pulled apart the curtains; sure of what he was to do as if it had been rehearsed. He took out a slim sharp knife (one of Lucia's which she'd thrown at him weeks ago in a fit of rage, he thought with the slightest of pangs) and with it made a cut in his hand. The blood seeped through at first then flowed out easily. He held it to Madeline's mouth while Genevieve watched from behind him expectantly. For a moment he just bled and she just lay still then she began to suck at his hand, drawing the blood from him like breath. He winced slightly. Her eyes opened, blue and startlingly clear, and she looked up at Dante and her mother. She didn't release his hand until he tugged it free of her jaws. He looked at the wound watching it close up considerably slower than normal. Madeline sat up and said weakly;

"Thank you," smiling at him brightly making his knees weak then she collapsed again this time into sleep.

Genevieve began to cry. She kissed her daughter then Dante's cheek thanking him over and over again. She offered him gold, weapons, all the books in the library, any woman there as his bride, anything he wished for. He shrugged it off thoroughly embarrassed and insisting he didn't need anything.

"At least you'll stay another day for the celebrations tomorrow night in your honour though?" she asked after she'd calmed a little. Dante considered. He didn't really have anything urgent to return home for (pizza boxes, Marionette slaying, Lucia's grudge and more black coffee) and it would give him time to think over what he wanted as a reward. He shrugged again;

"Sure, I'll stay. It might be nice to eat something that wasn't delivered in less than half an hour or my money back for a change."

Genevieve grinned and blessed him again then showed him to rooms where he could sleep if he required as well as bathe, find food that wasn't served still beating and bind his almost-healed cut. He thanked her and left the mother and daughter alone. He went to take a bath and collect his thoughts.

Bathing in rose-scented water was odd. Dante wasn't sure he liked it really, smelling like a hanging basket, but a bath was a bath and at least the water was warm and deep. He closed his eyes and thought of the gash on his wrist. He thought of the knife and of Madeline and of those blood-craving lunatics upstairs. He thought of home and his business. He thought of Lucia. His eyes snapped open. Lucia? Why was he thinking of Lucia? He panicked slightly and washed himself before drying, dressing, taking a couple of seconds to look hopelessly at the odd site of himself in a mirror with a gold frame with rose petals in his hair and then went back up the stairs. The sun was just up and the palace was full of statues again. Dante walked through them with contempt. Hard to believe he was spooked by this place. Impossible to think that crimson draped walls and stark white faces with gold jewels and the endless swirling of red velvet gowns and coats could make his skin crawl as it had.

He made his way back up to the weapons gallery and spent an enjoyable morning trying out various swords, knives and a large axe he'd taken a shine to. He liked the noise it made as he brought it swinging down in a bright metallic arc. It was a noise that said 'don't mess with me or I'll be freeing up some space between your shoulders and your head before you can say mercy.'

During the afternoon, Dante walked around the island loathing the manicured lawns and hedges and wondering about why vampires would bother with a sundial. He returned to his rooms late afternoon and slept for a few hours before being woken just before sunset by Genevieve who told him he had to dress for dinner. The concept was relatively foreign to Dante who had never 'dressed up' for dinner in his life that he could remember.

Nonetheless, he was kitted out with an expensive black suit that he was told went well with his silver hair and blue eyes along with two silver gauntlets and a silver ring which he refused to wear. He didn't mind the dinner jacket but he had his limits. His hair was combed and styled to sit straight and tidy and his nails were clipped and filed. He felt like a complete moron. He got a great deal more admiring glances as he entered the hall, however and he had to smile a little at that.

The highest order of the court, almost 50 vampires were seated in the dining room which was red and gold like everything else and he was given the seat of honour (he was told) on the left of Genevieve who sat at the head. On her right was Madeline who seemed thrilled to be conscious again and beamed enthusiastically at everyone. She chattered to her mother, to Dante, to everyone present barely remembering to eat between her exclamations and opinions.

Dante was sick of her constant talking by second course and by dessert he was almost ready to gag her, vampire royalty or otherwise. It was rare that he ran into someone who talked more than him and when he did he invariably disliked it. The meal, to their credit, was great. He'd never tasted so many things he couldn't pronounce in one meal before. After dinner, Genevieve stood up and tapped her glass with a spoon; an age old gesture for attention.

"I thank you all for joining me for this little dinner this evening. As you see, our dearest Madeline is healthy again and it is all thanks to Dante that this is possible. We owe him a great debt of gratitude and it is in his honour that I have organized this little party. I trust you to extend to him your full courtesy and respect. If he asks something of you, it shall be done. I intended to leave my next statement for a while to come but as this seems like the optimum time; Dante, saviour of our line and bravest champion, it is my wish that you wed my daughter, my darling Madeline, and become the Lord of this Court."