Dawn came at last. D was still fast asleep, and the Rans didn't exactly find much reason to change that. Iria made sure to set aside a large plateful of breakfast for when he finally woke up, and Daniel went off into town for a replacement cable for the barrier, since D's repairs had been a quick fix at best and probably wouldn't last too long.

It was Catherine who was the most concerned about the hunter they had hired. She was pouring through all the books they had on the vampires and such creatures. None mentioned anything about 'vanpyrs', but still, she knew what a dhampir was, and D was obviously one, even if he refused to let himself be called that term. But she still had to look, give him the benefit of a doubt. He hadn't seemed to have a bloodlust like she'd heard dhampirs suffered from, and he was quite at home in the sunlight, which caused dhampirs what was called heat syndrome; an overload of sunlight would make their bodies lock up until they could bury themselves in the earth, shielded from the sun's rays.

None of the history books held anything. Perhaps there was something in the old novels her family had kept collected over the years. Many of the fictional tomes were reprints of books originally published before the war, and yet despite being works of imagination, they sometimes held a bit of truth which history and studies of the supernatural omitted. Various titles were in that area of the collection; Varney the Vampyr, Carmilla, Vampire Chronicles... Hours of reading, and she found nothing which helped in her search for answers. Even several books written on dhampirs yielded little other than what she already knew. Very few marks of the half-damned fit D, yet those that did were unmistakable.

Wait. He claimed his name was D, and that he wasn't like anyone she nor her family had ever met before. Where had she heard that name before though? Was it from a book she'd read? It sounded so familiar, as did this entire situation.

Now going back through the book, she came across an old hardbound book, one that had a detailed illustration on the cover. The title right away gave her the answer she was looking for, and as she opened the book, she found that something was very disturbing now about the story, despite that she had read it before.

"'Though the voice of her opponent was low, and she could barely pick it out over the snarling of the wind, it sounded like the voice of seventeen or eighteen year old youth,'" she read aloud. No, that didn't fit their hunter. His voice did not at all sound low, it was more high-pitched than one would imagine for such a battle hardened person. He did sound as young as he looked, though that was a point against such comparison. But his eyes, they seemed to speak of countless years that he had experienced. She continued reading, and then realized that even if she wanted to, she couldn't ask D for answers right now. He'd earned this rest, even if he was half-vampire. She owed him that much.

The young hunter groaned as he finally woke up. Groggy, but aware, he pulled himself out of bed and set up. Still clad in his armor. It was amazing he'd actually gotten any sleep in that stuff. Still, it was sleep he'd needed.

Something smelled good. The Rans must have left him some breakfast. What time was it anyway? Probably near noon, since he'd finally gone to bed sometime just before dawn. "Good thing I'm hungry," he muttered while he got up. D glanced over to where Varda lay on the ground, then smirked and headed for the door. He was going to spend his breakfast without that annoying loudmouthed demon for once.

He stepped down the hall, following the scent to the kitchen where he found Daniel fixing himself some lunch. "D!" the young man exclaimed in surprise. "I was wondering when you'd wake up."

A nod from the hunter as he followed the scent of food to the oven. Inside was a plate of hash browns, pancakes, and scrambled eggs, still waiting for him. "Saved me some leftovers?" D remarked while grabbing the plate and sitting down at the table. He threw some butter on the pancakes, along with syrup, then proceeded to start eating.

With a plate of chicken in hand, Daniel sat down at the table as well. "I wanted to thank you," he said while looking at the hunter. "For saving Catherine last night."

D waved his hand before popping some of the egg into his mouth. "Like I said last night, it's what you hired me to do," came the reply. He paused, sprinkled salt onto the eggs and hash browns, then continued eating. "Besides, Tremere and I have an old score to settle."

There was a look of perplextion on Daniel's face. So D and Tremere had crossed paths before, it seemed. That would explain why D was taking such an interest in this job. There was no doubt quite a story to that. "Catherine's been waiting for you to get up," the boy continued flippantly. He looked outside to where Iria was riding one of the horses around the small coral. "Don't know why, she said there was something she wanted to talk to you about."

A large forkful of pancakes went into his mouth. D didn't reply, being he had a feeling he knew what this was about. However, it seemed as if Catherine had not informed her siblings about what she had learned about their hired hunter. Interesting, though the reason why was what irked his thoughts. He'd have to find out what she wanted to talk to him about.

With his breakfast polished off and the plate in the sink, D went out to find Catherine. When he finally found her by the stables, she was actually smiling at him. Odd considering that only the night before, she had been quite frightened of him and what he was. "Daniel said you were looking for me."

A nod from the girl. She acted quite cheerful now compared to before. In fact, she was acting much more comfortable around him than her siblings did. Iria always seemed so perturbed around him, and it was no wonder why, while Daniel seemed unsure as to how he felt with that deadly aura. Catherine, however, seemed to now be enjoying the air that D produced about him. "I was thinking about what you told us when I met you," she said, her hands behind her back while she swayed back and forth. What was she hiding behind her? "How you call yourself D, said you're not like anyone we've ever met, and how you insist that you're not a dhampir, despite being half-vampire."

So that's what was going through her mind now. "Like I told you," D replied, the calm in his voice strained. "There's more than one race of vampires."

"Which led me to look through the books we have." Catherine brought her hands out from behind her now, showing the old hardcover she was holding. The illustration was of a handsome man with long brown hair, wearing a black suit, a cloak, and a large black hat. In his arms, while the cloak billowed about, was a woman with long blonde hair, outfitted in a regal dress. Both characters in the illustration were mounted upon a cyborg horse. "D isn't your real name, and I find it interesting that you named yourself after a fictional dhampir."

For a moment, his eyes flashed angrily. The, he took a breath and shook his head. He knew that book all too well. "And thus, I suppose you find it interesting how that book pertains to what's happening to you and your family, even as much as some of the main characters sharing your family name."

Now that, she didn't get. "But the family in the book are the Langs."

Yes, something he was aware of in more common copies. "The original translator took some personal liberties with names," D stated calmly. He walked over to where his motorcycle rested, reached into a compartment on the side, and pulled out a small satchel bag. From in that, he withdrew a rather worn-out and beat up hardbound book that had the same cover art as the hardbound book Catherine was carrying. "They're supposed to be Doris and Dan Ran, your family name."

Now she understood what he'd meant. It wasn't just events that were frighteningly similar, it was the people as well. "Doris..." Catherine gulped. This was actually very frightening now. "Doris was my mother's name," she whispered. After a moment, she looked out to where Daniel was tending to the sheep. "And Daniel..."

A nod. " I know," D replied. He slipped the small book back into the satchel bag and returned it to the motorcycle compartment. "And I didn't get the name D from the book, I got it by getting rid of the other four letters in my name." He turned now, walking out of the stable.

Her curiousity got the better of her now. After making sure that D was gone, Catherine opened the compartment, took out the satchel bag, and got the old book out. Opening it, she read through and found all kinds of small notes that had been slipped in between pages, noting translations and errors that translated copies apparently had made. But the text of the book itself was all in a language and writing system she didn't recognize. At the back, there was what looked like the back of an old weathered photograph and something scrawled on the picture's back..

"'Best of luck to a faithful reader,'" she read. The English was discernable, but the signature was in the same writing system as the book itself. Wait, there was a date. "June fifteenth, two thousand and..."

With a gasp, Catherine dropped both books to the ground. This wasn't possible, even if D was a dhampir. The vampire half-breeds only lived a few hundred years on their own, and even those that lived longer were significantly aged. A dhampir at the age this would suggest would look like they were in their elder years. But D was no more than sixteen or seventeen in appearance, and he was so full of life and energy, like an adolescent. No, this must have belonged to one of his human ancestors and had been passed down through his mother's family

Now picking up both of the books again, she once more saw the old photo, except now it was facing her from the front. Standing there, on one side, was the author of the novel. Catherine recognized him from the small biography in the back of her copy, but the other person...it shattered any rational explanation she had for who and what D was. Standing there next to the book's author was D himself, dressed in what was the style of the time in the pre-war era. He looked so normal, so happy, yet in his eyes could be seen a horrible sadness.

Who was he? Was D indeed the person depicted in the book? Was he some heroic figure that was almost out of the very stories she'd read as a child, come to save her and her family from the vampire terror which plagued them? But how could he be so young still after four hundred years? If he was really that old, that meant he'd been around since before the war.

Someone was coming. Catherine shoved the satchel bag and book back into the compartment, grabbed her book, then hide behind one of the housing doors. As luck would have it, D had come back. Wait, was he talking to someone?

"Kid, I know you like getting to know the cute girls better, but you are risking a lot by telling her even that much!" came a raspy voice. It didn't sound like D at all, but there was no other person in there with them. "And that's not going into to showing her that damned book! I told you that you should get rid of that thing!"

The boy gave a snort while walking over to his motorcycle. He slid into the driving seat, tapped on the control board's keypad, then smirked while looking to the golden gauntlet on his left arm. "I got that thing signed by Kikuchi just before the war broke out," he replied to the raspy voice. "Like hell I'm gonn'a throw it out."

Was the source of the other voice his gauntlet? Some kind of communications device, perhaps. Yes, that would explain it. No, wait. There was something moving on that thing. A face? What the hell was going on?

"Keeping that thing is asking for trouble," the voice stated. It sounded agitated, not to mention very upset with D. Was that gauntlet alive? How else did it speak and have its own face which was even now shifting about on the metal object. "It's like that girl you helped out during the wraith job in the Balkans. What was her name...Lina...Reina..."

"Leila," came the very nonchalant answer. D sighed and began reading something that was being displayed by that motorcycle of his. "That was one hell of Kikuchi moment if I ever had one."

The gauntlet gave a grunt, then suddenly shifted its face around. Surely it hadn't seen her. "Uh, D...there's someone else in here with us." Oh god, it could sense her!

The hunter jumped up from in his vehicle and looked around. His left fist clenched, causing a wide blade to form from one of the protruding spikes of the gauntlet. "Catherine," he whispered before his eyes shifted into feline slits. "Cathy, I know you're in here, just come on out." A pause as he waited for an answer. After a moment, he let his hand relax and the blade retracted back into the gauntlet. "I'm not going to hurt you."

She held her breath before finally giving a sigh and standing up from behind the trough. "I'm sorry," the girl said while watching the hunter's eyes return to normal. "I didn't mean to listen in on you, but, I was..."

"I knew it!" The gauntlet's face was very visible now, staring at Catherine from the back of D's left hand. "She read through that damn book, I told you that thing was trouble!"

For a moment, D was still. Then he suddenly banged his left hand against one of the stable support pillars, causing the gauntlet to yell out in pain. "Shut up already," he hissed before returning his attention to Catherine. Right now, he had to ascertain just how much she'd found out about him. "I take it you got a little too curious," D asked. Catherine nodded, leading him to walk over and continue the interrogation. "Just how much of your curiosity found answers?"

The girl gulped. She most certainly did not like where she imagined this going. "I...found the note in the back of the book," she answered. "And the...the picture of...of you and..." She dared not continue. Catherine knew she'd said enough though.

"Me and Hideyuki Kikuchi," D finished. The girl only nodded, but it was more than he needed now. That meant she knew just about how old he really was. "And you know that dhampirs only live about three to four hundred years." Another nod. Well, time to explain all about his kind now. "But you've never heard of a dunpeal, have you?"

The gauntlet was acting up again. "D!" it hissed scoldingly. "Just how much are you going to-OW!" Another hard slam into the wooden beam got it to shut up again.

"Dunpeal?" she asked. He was rather close to her now, and Catherine found that she was being backed up against the wall. "What's a...dunpeal?"

There was that smile now. "Vanpyr half-breed," D replied, he took a step back, allowing Catherine some breathing space while he went into an explanation. "As I said, vanpyrs are a difference vampire race from Kinthea. They don't need human blood to live, but they do need it to fuel strength and their powers. And like Kinthea, they can breed." Again, his eyes became like those of a cat, as if to accent his point. "We're called dunpeals, and unlike dhampirs, we don't age after certain points in our aging. That's why I'm still physically a teenager even though I'm over four hundred years old."

"And Tremere," the girl added. Now D's expression went dark. It was obvious he wasn't too happy about that shift in topic. "You acted like you know him when he tried to stop us."

D didn't answer right away. He was clearly conflicted with how much he wanted to reveal to this girl. "We have a history," he stated at last. His eyes narrowed as he turned away form Catherine. "But I knew him as Arkhm, and I've been hunting for him ever since four hundred years ago."

Something terrible had occurred between this half-breed hunter and the vampire she knew as Jonathan Tremere. But what was it? Could be what had made D what he was now? If so, should she pry into the history they shared? Certainly, she was curious, but unsure if it was worth risking his anger. "Might I...um...well..."

"He killed everyone I cared about."

Well, that was rather forthcoming and bluntly put. No wonder D was so upset when he'd seen Tremere. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I shouldn't have asked."

He shrugged. A simple gesture, but it was enough to let her know that he wasn't angry with her for asking. "It's funny, I normally wouldn't tell people this much about myself." D glanced to the girl, and there was a faint smile on his lips. "I guess the reason is because you remind me of an old friend of mine." A sigh now as he leaned against one of the fencings. "Back then, all I wanted to do was find Arkhm and kill him for what he did to me."

"Destroying your life."

In his mind, D could see a flash of that horrible night. Screams of horror. A teenage boy with pale blonde hair like his own, a pair of metal stakes imbedded in his chest while a broadsword covered in blood was driven though his neck to pin him to the wall. A blonde girl, her body on the floor three feet from where her head lay. A brunette woman, lying dead in pool of her own blood with bullet wounds and deep gashes all over her body. Everything he'd tried to forget, everything that had made him into what he was. Seeing Tremere brought it back. The things he had seen that night, and ever since, almost made him wonder if he'd lost his mind.

The hunter sighed, shaking his head in order to banish those memories. He didn't want to relive the horrible things he'd been through so long ago, and he wanted to make sure this girl and her family would not suffer like he did. But with Tremere involved, it was hard not to remember, and it made things so much more personal.

His eyes shifted to look at Catherine. "Make no mistake," D stated calmly. "Tremere is going to pay for what he did to both your family and me."

It was long after sunset when the black carriage came into the village. Anyone who saw it knew instantly that the coach belonged to Tremere, and as such got out of its way to give it a very wide berth. Its destination was a local inn, and as it came to a halt, the ghostly driver merely gestured to the carriage door to open it.

A figure cloaked in black stepped out. There was a heavy breathing from under the cloak, but no one dared to go near this being. The figure looked around, then nodded to the driver before entering the inn. The owner of the inn was trembling in fear the moment he saw the figure. Scared that this being had come to kill him, he stepped back and pressed against the wall behind him. "Ho-how can I he-he-help you?" he nervously stuttered.

"I'm looking for a tall man," the vampire's envoy stated through the heavy breathing. Close enough for the innkeeper to see under the hood of the cloak, the source of the heavy breathing was a complex network of tubes connected to a rebreather. "He has grey hair streaked by red, and he goes by the name of Reidai."

The innkeeper slowly pointed down the hallway. "Room six." The man gulped, not sure whether or not he was grateful that he was not the target of this creature's search.

The envoy nodded and moved down the hall. One clawed hand reaching out, it took only a gesture for the knob to turn and the door to swing open. Reidai was standing there, as if he'd been expecting this visit. Nothing was said as the creature stepped into the room and shut the door behind him. "Reidai, I have been sent by Duke Tremere."

A simple nod in reply. Reidai had indeed been expecting this visitor. "I suppose that you're here to execute me for my failure to kill the dhampir," he stated calmly. He already knew what was to be his fate, or so he assumed.

"Me, kill you?" the creature replied. From the tone of the envoy's voice, such an idea was indeed a surprise. "Don't be ridiculous, I am no match for your skill."

This was indeed a surprise. If this envoy was not to be executioner, then why had he been sent to find the errant thrall? "Lord Tremere has something else in store for me then."

The envoy nodded and withdrew a rusty broadsword from under his cloaks. "Our master sends this to aid you in slaying the half-breed." It expected that confused look from the thrall. "It is wrought iron, Lord Tremere says that it will help you greatly in your impending battle with the hunter."

He reached out with his right hand and grasped the handle of the sword. Yes, it was pure iron as the creature claimed. The large patches of rust were more than enough evidence for that, yet the hilt of the weapon was in good condition in comparison to the very rusted blade. "How shall this sword help against a dhampir?"

The envoy didn't answer. It wasn't sure itself how such a poorly crafted weapon would help defeated such a powerful half-breed that this hunter had proven to be, but it dare not argue with its master. "Lord Tremere's wisdom should not be questioned."

With a frown, Reidai nodded to the creature. He continued to look at the sword after the envoy had departed. How would cold iron help against a dhampir? They had no weakness to iron, it was the bane of fae and the yakshis. Or did Tremer know something that his thralls did not? Such would be seen indeed soon enough.

Grigori waited for the return of the envoy. When he saw the carriage approach, he turned and hurried to Tremer's throne room, where he knelt before the vampire and bowed. "Your messenger to Reidai has returned," he stated. After a moment, he heard the grunt that was a gestured to stand. "Might I ask, master," the dhampir continued as he rose to his feet, "how an old iron sword will help against the dunpeal?"

Rising from his throne, Tremere smiled and bade his son to walk with him. The boy had yet to adapt around the notion that he was Tremere's child instead of some servant thrall, but soon enough he would grow accustom to it. "In my many long centuries since Lord Dracula sired me," the vampire began, "I have learned many of the vanpyr's secrets, and those of their spawn." They walked down the hall toward the ballroom. Preparations for the wedding were still being made, since the ceremony had now been postponed until Catherine was recovered. "Dunpeals are an oddity, Grigori. Some are afflicted with the same weaknesses as dhampirs, while others are not."

There was something in there. "But," Grigori intoned for his father.

The vampire smiled. Yes, Grigori was a clever child. "But, in exchange for these immunities, they give up vampiric powers, such as domination, the protean powers of shapeshifting, and the command of beasts." He paused now as the entered the ballroom. With the extra time to prepare, his ghostly servants had made this display even more lavish. Excellent, this would allow him to show off his power to his bride-to-be. "Yet, they all share one weakness that cannot be undone by any force, and as such, Reidai will kill this hunter."

There was something obvious about what Tremere had sent his thrall that Grigori was missing. Wait, the material of the sword was not just any iron, but wrought iron. It was the iron that made the sword so significant. "The bane of a dunpeal is cold iron," he stated. To his pleasure, his father gave a prideful smile and nodded. "All Reidai has to do is strike the hunter down with that sword and stake him through the heart."

Indeed, all those centuries of training this boy and leading him into the illusion that he was a thrall had been worth it. By not telling Grigori of his true nature, the dhampir had worked harder to earn his father's favor, on his own earning the promise of immortality as a vampire. "And then this silly matter will be concluded."