Chapter 5:

Sorry, for you people who read this story, for the long update...

Bishop's POV:

He searched for many days for a vampire named Xavier, but this vampire seemed to have disappeared. Finally, close to the time when he would have to make the voyage to England for another Elders meeting, he gave up which left him in a foul mood. Bishop never gave up: it was as if he was admitting a sin or something similar by denying himself the right to fulfil everything he said he would.

He relaxed in his castle for a day or two and considered the list of vampires he had killed. Surely the fifteen he had managed to destroy – unfortunately, no information had been rendered from any of them – had to be more than the pitiful amount his daughter had managed to kill. She was weak – he knew it and had always known it. There was absolutely no way that she would be able to destroy every single vampire above her – including her Father, him. She was nowhere near powerful enough: the compassion shown to her by her Mother made that fact a definite…

The last one he would go for was his old acquaintance, Jonathon. Well, they had been more than acquaintances – they had been friends – until Jonathon got greedy and wanted his lands… that wasn't something that Bishop was willing to allow to happen, so he pushed away Jonathon back to his homeland of Scotland. He knew that he had a weak chance against Jonathon but perhaps now that he was the Eldest he would (Jonathon that is) be under pressure from the other Elders and then be wiped out that way…

Amelie's POV:

She knew that she had a battle on her hands. She knew that someday, sometime, she would have to fight her Father. Thankfully, she knew many of his weaknesses and was a strong fighter, but he was even stronger and he knew even more of her weaknesses, since he 'brought her up' in all technicalities. This would be the biggest fight of her life, but as Hugo said before over half the vampires lived in France. She could simply allow her Father to exterminate them all before killing him herself then – of course, she would allow him to kill Jonathon first. Something about him made her shudder just thinking about him; she was sure she had recognised him or something.

"Amelie, are you ready?" Myrnin knocked at her door, and she turned her attention from her state of thought tracking to finishing buttoning up the simple grey dress she wore that day. "I have some news," he continued, and she queried this in her mind: what news could be so important?

"Yes, I am," she responded, opening the door to him in a fluid movement which she continued on to the mirror to begin to tie her hair back. As she proceeded to tie her hair back into a tight bun, she spoke, "What could be so important that you cannot wait for me to head downstairs?"

"The meeting has been called forwards three months," he informed her quietly, knowing how she would take the news. She turned to him with a look of exasperation, despair and confusion, as he suspected she would do.

"Why is that?" Amelie questioned him, shock making her tone more high pitched. Yet she didn't sound more childlike: she simply heightened the danger which lurked underneath her skin, the danger which was almost imperceptible in her delicate body. She took a step towards her longest friend and he held his hands up in surrender, knowing that he had no hope against this vampire.

"There has been suspicion regarding the deaths of so many Elder vampires in such a short period of time," he responded, taking a step back slowly, deliberately, from her.

Her brow furrowed over, wondering how on earth two deaths could be deemed as too many. Then it clicked. "By any chance, do you know if the majority of the deaths are occurring in France?" she asked him, knowing that if this is the case, her Father was behind the deaths.

"Yes, how did you know that?" Myrnin responded, his own brow creased in wondering how his friend could be so omnipotent.

"It isn't omnipotence, Myrnin, simply simple deduction," she sighed, rolling her eyes delicately at her friend's density. "My Father remains in France. As you know, he wants the power of the Eldest without the Elder Council beneath him, as do I. Therefore, if the majority of the deaths are occurring in France, he is behind them. He does not have the logical skills necessary to understand that killing so many in a huge burst will draw attention to the deaths…" she trailed off, considering her own tactics.

"Like in chess?" Myrnin asked and she nodded, smiling widely.

"Yes, exactly like in chess: if you want to win, you do not make your moves boldly, obviously – you make them stealthily and slipped in between other rather more idiotic and rash movements, so you always have a back up and a smoke screen, if you will," she rambled on, explaining how she operates. "As you can probably tell, I could always defeat him at chess, even as a small child," she smiled at the memory of being able to beat him in such a menial thing, before the smile slips away as she remembered the after effects of such a victory. When she was a small child, she usually wasn't punished and occasionally he showed her affection, but as she aged and he turned more power hungry, she no longer ranked such behaviour…

"I always lose at chess," Myrnin said wanly, and she laughed slightly once again.

"That is because you make your moves too pronounced, too obvious, from the beginning!" she tried to explain just how he always lost at fighting with Oliver, as well as chess. "You need to use your, ahem, boldness in a way which becomes a distraction for your opponent… for instance, you make such a show of making rather rash decisions which work out better for your opponent, in chess for example. Then, they aren't expecting you to make a good decision when you are so bold and forceful, when in fact you are stealthily making ground and tricking your opponent into holes which they cannot dig themselves out of," she motioned with her hands what she meant, and her friend smiled at the assistance she had given him.

"I shall have to test those methods out," he replied and she smiled at him but shook her head.

"Another time, Myrnin – we have much work to be doing, in preparation for next month," she told him as she walked out of her room. "Myrnin, why are you loitering in my room?" she called behind herself as she walked slowly down the hall.

In her room, Myrnin looked away from her clothing and quashed the thoughts about what lay underneath them all…

At the meeting of the Elders…

"Will you two be quiet?" Amelie hissed at the pair of squabbling male vampires which stood behind her. "We are trying to gain intelligence upon our enemy so that we can control our own fates. Or would you rather we all got caught and killed?" she continued, glaring at the pair of them with crimson eyes. They both turned abashed and looked away, before Myrnin muttered:

"You're the one talking now!"

She turned back to him and growled deeply, the guttural sound seeming so quaint coming from such a delicate and beautiful woman.

From here, they advanced along the line of the woods, deciding that if the Elders were on guard; their past hiding place would be too noticeable. So they slunk into the woods and came across a figure, cloaked in black, lying in wait.

Surely it cannot be? She thought to herself as the face came into the light… he cannot be here. He cannot!

"Hello, Amelie, my dearest daughter," Bishop smiled, showing fang as he did so. "What a pleasant surprise to see you here."

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Vicky xx