Disclaimer: Don't own orginal characters and all that, just like shifting them around in my own created universe. Kudos to Leroux and Co.

How's this for a quick update? I'm trying to squeak one in here before that maintenance thing kicks in...okay I didn't make it in time...later tomorrow then.

I just finished this a couple of hours ago actually. I've had a lot of time to write the last couple of days since my Dad's been in the hospital; when he's trying to sleep, I type (he's NOT a good patient when he's awake, wink).

On top of that stress, I got my first flame a couple of days ago and let's just say it was poorly timed, not that any time is good for something that says "you suck this is the worst thing I've ever read." I respect their right to dislike my stuff but disregard it mostly for the personal attack so I think that's just someone's way of getting their kicks. Sort of a reminder that you can't please everyone I suppose. sigh

Anyway, I had some fun clicking on the review replies and that cheered me right up. Thanks a thousand times over to everyone who's reviewed and stuck around and all those who've put this on their favorite stories. You rock my world and keep me going!

Fair warning: The ending on this one'sgoing to be a bit sharp, if you know what I mean, but that's where my muse said to put it and she's been cooperating so well the last few days.

Enjoy!

Some time later, no color had returned to Ethan's face. No one could say that vampires did not take care of their own; Donald had set a series of watches over both their comrade and the door to the cellar so as to keep out unwelcome visitors. Erik ventured to guess that Aleta had been a nurse in her lifetime, judging by how even Donald looked to her for advice in matters of health and healing. Whoever was instructed to see to Ethan had strict orders to wake Aleta first should his condition change one way or another, leading to a rather tiresome night and ill spirits on her part throughout most of the next day.

Donald had put Irving to work, Erik noted, with the philosophy that if he was kept busy he wouldn't dwell on what haunted him. All in all, it seemed to work rather effectively considering how unresponsive he had been earlier; Irving had even managed to grin without too much negated by his saddened eyes.

Philippe sat next to Erik, having just returned from his post at the main door. "You see that mirror over there?" he asked Erik, strangely serious. "Have you ever seen it before?"

Erik took a good look at the mirror, noting that his reflection was missing and otherwise that the frame did look vaguely familiar, as if he'd seen it in a dream. He told Philippe as much.

"I've got the same feeling about it. I wonder why this guy put it in his basement. No chance he's your uncle or something and just doesn't want to look at his own ghastly face, is there?"

By means of response, Erik smacked Philippe smartly upside the head then wrenched his wrist into an unnatural position. "You were saying?" he asked him with a dangerous tone thinly coated with false sweetness.

"Nothing! Nothing! Let me go!" One of Philippe's fingers made a strange cracking noise and Erik released him, smirking. Philippe gritted his teeth as he moved his pinkie back into proper alignment. "That was uncalled for. Just be glad vampires are fast healers or I might have had to lash back." He grinned lightly though Erik made a mental note to look out for a bit of childish payback in the next few hours.

"Vampires are fast healers," he repeated. "Then why is Ethan still down?"

"Anything caused by a werewolf is going to be a bit more bothersome. Were Ethan human, the wound would certainly never close but being a vampire gives him more of a chance. Though we really don't know what's going to happen, what with that little nibble from Rover…or Fifi maybe…it's hard to tell a female werewolf from a male."

Philippe was still talking about something or another but Erik watched as Donald surveyed his crew with his hands clasped behind his back. He had already informed the group that they would be staying another night here and that feeding groups would depart in threes. Erik watched as the first group made their way back into the cellar, though it was still rather early in the evening. Irving, Dane, and Margaret rose as the next group. Aleta joined their party with the assurances that she would return on her own as soon as she had finished. For Irving's sake, Erik was glad that Philippe hadn't been placed in his group, noting that not only were most not accustomed to his humor but that Irving would not be in a mood to oblige him, perhaps to go beyond a simple broken finger.

Erik took his turn and watched as Ethan took in shallow breaths, coughing every now and again. True to her word, Aleta was back relatively quickly and relieved Erik of his post with a dismissing hand. The rest of the second group was slower in returning but nonetheless quick in their journey. Erik, Philippe, and Sebastian rose from their place and made for the door as Donald intoned again the importance of safety in numbers and to lead no creature back to their safe ground. Throwing his cape over his shoulders, Erik led the way out, still not entirely adjusted to being under the strictures and orders of someone other than himself. Philippe tossed his own cape about him though it lacked the finesse Erik had displayed ("You've got to show me how you do that someday.") Sebastian grumbled, less than pleased to be in Philippe's company, but wouldn't pass the opportunity to feed; who knew when the next opportunity would be at hand considering the erratic feeding schedule from the first Hunt.

Philippe was still rambling about something or another as the three of them (four when Sebastian's sparrow Emma joined) made their way to town. Each left one at a time with the other two to stand watch nearby. When Erik returned from his kill, he saw Sebastian with his arms crossed over his chest and Philippe still chatting away.

"Why won't you talk to me, Sebastian? I don't think I've ever met anyone quite so rude."

"Because I don't like you," he replied simply. "And you don't need much encouragement."

Erik nodded lightly mostly to himself. Philippe was obviously a little startled by his blunt answer but was quick to smile again. "Well, at least you're honest. You still haven't forgiven me for—"

"No, I haven't," he butted in. "And I would rather you not bring it up. It's my turn. You two watch."

He didn't wait and took off for a small house.

Erik's curiosity got the better of him: "What did you do to him?"

Philippe shrugged. "It was just a harmless joke." Erik raised an eyebrow, the visible one, as if to say 'I doubt any of your jokes are harmless.' "Alright, alright. They had those same tents when I was first called to the Circle and they don't protect too much when the sun is directly overhead. He was closest to the entrance of the cave we camped in and I just nudged his sleeping hand a little closer to the doorway. Sebastian made an excellent alarm clock with a stunning scream a few hours later when the sun was at the right angle. It's not my fault he sleeps like a rock. Besides, it's not like there was any lasting damage…of course that was just one of them. I really not sure which one he's angry at."

Erik shook his head.

Sebastian returned shortly and with a snappish, "Let's go back," transformed and flew back toward the Baron's estate.

∞†∞

Aleta was quiet for a moment, feeling for Ethan's pulse. She sighed and raised her head to look at Donald. "It's awfully weak but steady. I don't think we should move him for another day or so at least."

"We may not have another day," Dane remarked by Donald's side. "Who knows what this new effect could have done to their other strengths. They were fantastic trackers before."

Donald nodded slowly. "This is true. We will stay as long as we can. But all the same, we will have an escape ready. I can only hope that they are also inhibited by the sun or this will be a battle we cannot win."

Aleta sighed again. "I think the best we can do for him now is let him rest and find him some sustenance."

"That we can do," Donald replied solemnly. He turned around. "Irving? See if you can find a maid or something. Our host may not like it but his discomfort won't stand against Ethan's life."

Irving inclined his head briefly before snaking up the stairs.

∞†∞

Christine had given up discovering any more about their mysterious guests having done everything short of asking outright (a faux pas if she ever knew one). She had even snooped in the other guest rooms to find them unoccupied. The day had gone rather quickly with a bit of walking and reading but little more. The Baron was tied up in some business or another though Christine had no way of knowing if it had anything to do with the previous night's excitement. He came in every now and again but never could stay very long, much to Meg's disappointment.

She had nearly forgotten about Ethan when she finally quitted the room and bid her companions good night. She was in the middle of asking a maid (Christine believed her name was Helen) to bring some fresh water to her room when she glanced to her left and saw one of the most devastatingly handsome men she'd ever laid eyes on. The maid nearly swooned when the gentleman smiled and against Christine's will, her senses grew fuzzy and she was taken in.

"I was wondering if one of you ladies could help me. My name is Irving." He bowed gallantly and both returned with the most graceful curtsy they could muster (the poor maid nearly toppled over).

Christine piped up first, trying to keep her voice steady: "My name is Christine. What can I do for you?"

Irving smiled; he had been 'aiming' if you will at the maid but he figured this lovely lady would suit his purposes just as well. "A friend of mine needs help actually. If you would allow me to lead the way?" He offered his arm to her. Christine smiled and took his arm. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she vaguely wondered if he had something to do with Ethan and a few worried thoughts about leaving with this stranger to who knew where yet when Irving glanced and smiled at her again, her senses and rational thought were numbed.

He spoke again. "I'm sure that it's nothing too serious so I shan't take up too much of your time. Thank you again for your kindness."

Christine blushed. "It's no problem at all, I assure you."

They took the quickest route down the cellar, Christine still too befuddled to raise any protest though alarm bells were ringing in the recesses of her mind, further drowned by her own giggles at Irving's subtle charm.

The two of them walked down the stairs arm in arm then the disquieting sense began to overcome the numbness in Christine's mind; something was definitely wrong here.

Irving disentangled himself from her. "I've done my part," he said in a bored, calloused voice. Christine stared at him for a moment, thoroughly confused and now growing frightened. "Can you leave me alone now?" he added in an impertinent tone to the same strange gentleman that Christine had seen before.

The man nodded slightly with an impassive look and Irving slumped over to the wall and slid down it as if exhausted, returning to his own little world.

Christine looked at him helplessly as someone grasped her arms and pushed her to her knees next to a pallet on the floor. Ethan was there and his situation hadn't improved any from what she saw. He stared at her with an odd look in his glazed brown eyes…

∞†∞

Ramblings: I did warn you. Don't know when the next part's coming but I shall do my best for it to be soon. Happy New Year, everyone! Much love, all.

Love it or hate it, please let me know!