Final part up for you all! I hope you all have a happy holiday :)
Part Two
Bucciarati rushed around the side of the lodge just in time to see the snow crashing down the mountainside.
"Stay here, you idiot!" Abbacchio was shouting, grabbing Narancia by the back of the coat as he stepped closer to the avalanche area.
"But Fugo was up there!" Narancia cried.
"What?" Bucciarati demanded, making his way over to them as the snow settled.
"He was," Giorno added grimly. "He went up to look at something and right after that was when the avalanche started.
"We gotta go get him! He could be under the snow!" Narancia insisted.
"You'd best take precautions if you're going up there," one of the sanitarium workers said as he and the others readied the carriage for travel. "There's gonna be pitfalls all over the place with all the trees and none of that snow is packed. Take a long stick to search for pockets."
"We can't wait to look for him," Giorno said grimly. "He could both freeze or suffocate depending on how deep he's trapped."
Bruno nodded firmly. "Alright. See if you can find any poles—tools, anything like that, and shovels. Trish you stay here and get the fire started. Heat some water and blankets for when we get Fugo back."
Trish nodded and hurried into the lodge.
Mista and Abbacchio returned shortly with several sticks and some rope.
"I thought we could tie this around our waists so if one of us falls into a pocket, it will be easier to find us," Abbacchio said.
"Good idea," Bruno replied and took the end of the rope, looping it around his waist before he handed it off to Narancia. "Everyone be cautious. Test the ground before you step fully, and make sure not to stab too hard with the sticks at risk of hitting Fugo."
They all nodded and started out. Bruno opened up his senses, quickly acquainting himself with the familiar heartbeats of everyone on the rope with him so he could listen for any others that might be more muffled.
"Fugo!" Narancia cried as he labored through the snow, poking cautiously with his pole.
"He's probably not going to be able to hear you," Mista told him. "Not if he's under all this snow. Damn, it really did dump a lot down here!"
Bucciarati tried not to give in to the guilt that was attempting to grip his chest. Fugo had been having a hard enough time with this case as it was. He hated to think that the younger man might have been badly injured on top of that.
"Hey, I think I see something," Giorno called.
They all stopped and waited as the dhampir made his way slowly toward the object and plucked it out of the snow. "It's one of his shoes."
"He must be close by then, right?" Narancia asked, starting to look around frantically.
Bruno caught his shoulder. "He's likely further down the hill. Let's head in that direction."
"Check the bases of all the trees," Abbacchio called from the other end. "He could have been caught against one."
Bruno winced at the thought, but at the same time, if that were the case, it was more likely that Fugo would have some more breathing room.
Mista stumbled, tugging against the line. "Shit, it's really soft here. Be careful." He poked the end of his shovel into the ground and brought it back out with a frown. "Hey, I may have something here."
They all congregated on the area as Mista started digging, scooping snow out as carefully as possible.
He finally revealed an object in the snow and as he knelt and dug around it with his hands Bruno could see that it was the sleeve of Fugo's nightshirt and his pale hand.
"It's him!" Narancia cried and crashed to his knees as the rest of them did the same, using shovels carefully but mostly scooping the snow away with their hands the closer they got to Fugo.
Bruno could hear a faint heartbeat but it was so weak that even he could barely detect it under all the snow.
They finally unearthed Fugo's face and Bruno tilted his chin so that his nose and mouth were both free, brushing away as much snow as he could with his cloak.
"Pannacotta? Can you hear me?" he called. Fugo was almost as pale as the snow, aside from the blood that matted his hair and ran down one side of his face, likely from colliding with the tree.
"Is he all right?" Narancia asked anxiously.
"He's unconscious and very cold," Bruno said grimly. "We need to get him back to the lodge."
Abbacchio leaned over and simply hauled Fugo the rest of the way out of the snow, lifting him into his arms. "I got him. Someone go ahead of me to test the way."
Mista nodded and they all made their way back toward the lodge too slowly for Bruno's taste, but it was unavoidable lest they all wanted to get buried in the snow.
By the time they got back all of them were chilled thanks to their hasty dressing but Trish had stoked the fire to blazing and had heated plenty of water for tea.
"Oh god, is he okay?" Trish asked as she saw Fugo.
"We need to get him warm as soon as possible," Bruno told her.
He and Giorno quickly pulled the couch over by the fire and Abbacchio laid Fugo down on it as Trish grabbed the blankets she had been warming over the fire screen.
"Here, wrap him in these."
Once Fugo was bundled up Trish went to make tea for everyone as Bruno looked in the liquor cabinet for some brandy.
He poured a small amount and went to crouch beside the couch, slipping a hand behind Fugo's head, attempting to rouse him.
"Fugo, if you can hear me, try to drink something? It will warm you up."
Fugo remained unresponsive, even when Bruno dribbled a little of the brandy between his lips. He sat back, brow furrowed in worry.
"Giorno? Could you spare a little blood to heal the wound on his head?"
The dhampir nodded, pulling off his gloves. "Yes, but if he is concussed, I don't know how much it will do for that." He sunk his fangs into his finger and allowed the blood to drip onto the wound.
Fugo stirred slightly at that, giving Bruno a brief sense of relief, but he didn't wake entirely.
"Give him time to warm up," Abbacchio said quietly.
"And all of you take a second to warm up as well," Trish added, bringing in a tray of tea. "You should all change too, your clothes are soaked."
She was right. Now that the snow was melting on them, Bruno could definitely feel the dampness seeping in.
They regrouped shortly to drink tea. Mista sat tending the fire as Narancia and Trish watched over Fugo.
"I know we have Fugo to worry about at the moment, but we do need to discuss the developments in the case," Bruno addressed the others. "The vampire was definitely out here in the mountains tonight, intent on claiming one of his perceived brides. The fact that Signorina Monaldo was able to walk so far on such a cold night proves how strong his hold over these women is."
"I'll admit, I wasn't expecting it to escalate this quickly," Giorno agreed. "It's possible he's able to sense other supernaturals in the area and is feeling threatened."
"Let him," Abbacchio growled. "He'll have bigger issues than another vampire trying to take his 'property' when we get to him."
"So are we still heading up there in the morning?" Mista asked.
Bruno nodded. "I want all of you to go up and scope out the area, see what you can find. If you do find the vampire and he puts up a fight do what you have to. I'll be heading to the sanitarium to speak with Signorina Monaldo again."
"I'll come with you this time, Bucciarati, if that's okay," Trish spoke up. "It might help her to have another woman present."
Bruno nodded. "Yes, thank you Trish."
He sighed as he glanced back over to the still figure on the sofa. "You should all try to get as much rest as you can. I'll keep an eye on Fugo."
"Let us know if you need someone to spell you," Abbacchio said, casting a worried glace at Fugo as he left the room with the others.
Bruno pulled a chair over to the fire and Trish handed him another warmed blanket.
"He'll be okay," she said sincerely.
Bruno offered her a small grateful smile. "I'm sure he will. Get some rest, Trish."
She squeezed his shoulder briefly before she left and Bruno sat there in his silent vigil, monitoring Fugo's heartbeat as it started to quicken while the young man fell into a restless sleep.
Pannacotta sat silently in the parlor, still shaking. The maid had given him something to wash his hands with but he hadn't been able to get all the blood off.
He knew the second his father got home because he was shouting furiously.
"Where is he?"
He stormed in a second later and wrenched Pannacotta up by his shoulders, shaking him.
"What the hell did you do?" he demanded. No concern for his son, no. Only fury at something that would undoubtedly become an embarrassment to the family.
"He tried to drink my blood," Pannacotta tried.
His father slapped him across the face. "Do not lie to me young man! The DeLuca family are not vampires! What a disgusting thing to say about a man you apparently killed with your own hands! My god, I knew you were petulant but I never would have imagined I was harboring such a savage under my roof—"
"I was only defending myself!" Pannacotta protested. "He was going to murder me! Like those other children—he confessed to killing them too. Said he…said he couldn't help himself."
His father released him with a look of pure disgust on his face. "I cannot believe such lies. I ought to thrash you for that."
"Where is the lie?" Pannacotta shouted, surging to his feet, clenching his fists. "You'll know I was right when the murders stop! I didn't want to kill him!" His eyes welled with tears of fury. "I thought he was my friend, but he's only a monster hiding in plain sight who rapes and murders children!"
His father slapped him again and this time Pannacotta collapsed on his knees, face stinging. His father grabbed his arm roughly and yanked him up.
"I cannot believe I am hearing such disgusting words out of your mouth. We will consider how best to deal with you," he said darkly. "For now, I will give you time to confess the truth."
"I'm telling the truth, why won't you believe me?!" Pannacotta screamed. "Please, Father!"
They had reached his room and Pannacotta's father opened the door and threw him inside. The look on his face when Pannacotta looked back held no hint of sympathy at all.
"You are no son of mine," he said firmly and slammed the door shut, locking it from the outside.
Pannacotta rushed forward and slammed his fists into the door until they bled, screaming himself hoarse. But it didn't matter. He knew that. They would never believe him.
In the morning two men showed up and took him out to a carriage. His father, mother, and brother all stood watching him with hard expressions.
"It's for the best, Signore," one of the men told Pannacotta's father. "We'll make sure he's taken care of and you never have to see him again unless you want to."
"Thank you," Pannacotta's father said, and handed over a check to the men.
"Where are you taking me?" Pannacotta suddenly asked.
The men didn't say anything, simply shoved him into the back of the enclosed carriage and signaled to the driver to move.
He assumed he must be going to prison. After all, he had killed a man.
However, once the carriage stopped and he was pulled out of it, he realized that he might have ended up someplace even worse. The sign that read 'Sanitorium' in clear letters left him with little uncertainty.
"No!" he suddenly dug his heels in, trying to keep the men from taking him into the building. "I don't belong here! Please!"
One of the men chuckled. "You belong here, sure enough, boy. And with the money your papa paid to keep this quiet, you're gonna be here for a long time."
Pannacotta fought and screamed until the man simply picked him up and slung him over his shoulder. Pannacotta didn't care if the fighting made him look even more like a maniac, he wasn't going to give up, even when he was handed off to several nurses and orderlies who checked him in.
"Please, you don't understand! It was self-defense. The man was a vampire! He was trying to kill me!"
"Of course he was, dear," a tired looking woman said, snapping her fingers to one of the orderlies.
The man brought over a straight-jacket and Pannacotta fought until he was exhausted and they finally forced him into it, buckling it tightly and trapping his arms against his ribcage in a panic-inducing way.
"Let me go, please!"
"This one is going to need some special treatment. Such violence." The Nurse clucked her tongue. "Take him to a room."
"No!" Pannacotta screamed, struggling as much as possible as he was hauled down a long grey corridor. He could hear other screams and banging coming from the rooms, mixed in with helpless laughter and sobbing. He wanted to sob too.
They threw him onto the hard cot and the orderly leaned his full weight on Pannacotta as the nurse brought a glass bottle and a small cup.
"Don't give us anymore trouble or you're not going to like the outcome," she said.
Pannacotta didn't care. He kicked and screamed, trying to do as much damage to the unflappable orderly as possible.
"I'm not taking opiates!" he snapped, knowing well enough what they forced on patients in these places. "Please, I promise I'll calm down if you take this thing off and just let me explain! I don't belong here! I want to talk to the police!"
"And what do you think they'll do for you?" the nurse demanded. "You killed a man. You should count yourself lucky that you ended up here."
He continued to struggle, swearing in fury, and the nurse motioned for another orderly. "Hold his head and pry his mouth open if you have to. He needs to calm down before he hurts himself or anyone else."
Pannacotta felt the fight being forced out of him, held painfully tight between two large men, the awful liquid poured down his throat. The dizzying terror that followed as he felt his conviction, his senses slipping away…
Bruno jumped as Fugo's eyes flew open with a sudden cry, flailing against the blankets as he choked on the small amount of brandy Bruno had been getting him to drink since he seemed slightly more lucid.
"Fugo, easy," he said, pulling the young man upright and trying to loosen some of the blankets. "It's me, Pannacotta. It's just Bruno."
Fugo's eyes blinked, seeming slightly calmed by his voice, breath hitching in his throat as he started to shiver uncontrollably.
"Easy," Bruno murmured again, showing Fugo the glass he held. "Do you think you can drink some more of this? It will warm you up."
Fugo blinked again and gave a brief nod. Bruno held it to his lips and he took a couple painful swallows before he turned his head away, eyes sliding shut again.
Bruno furrowed his brow as he lay Fugo back down as his consciousness slipped away again. His cheeks were slightly flushed and Bruno touched the back of his hand to Fugo's forehead. He felt a little fevered, which was worrying, but not entirely surprising. Fugo had never had the strongest constitution. He was very prone to getting sick, especially in the cold.
Unfortunately, that meant that someone would have to stay with him while they all left on their missions that day.
He glanced toward the window to see dawn breaking and got up to start a pot of coffee.
When he returned to the parlor, Bruno found Narancia already up and crouching by the couch.
"How is he?" the boy asked worriedly.
"He woke briefly, but I think he has a fever now," Bruno replied.
"He always gets sick," Narancia muttered, reaching out to adjust Fugo's blankets attentively.
"Would you be willing to stay with him today?" Bruno asked. "Trish and I shouldn't be too long, but I don't want him here alone in his current condition."
"Of course," Narancia agreed. "I can look after him."
"I think we should move him to his room though. We'll keep him warm, but the fire will be too much for a fever."
Narancia nodded in agreement and helped Bruno move Fugo into his room, changing him into a clean nightshirt and sponging the matted blood from his hair before tucking him into bed. Fugo stirred slightly, moaning, but didn't wake again.
"Come have breakfast before we leave," Bruno told Narancia.
Before long, they were all heading out. Bruno made sure to see if Narancia needed anything else before he and Trish left for the sanitorium.
The head nurse was not happy to see them.
"We're here to see Signorina Monaldo," Bruno informed her.
"I'm afraid she's resting. She did not have a good night," the woman said stiffly.
"That is precisely why we're here," Bruno replied firmly. "If you would, signora."
The woman glowered at him but silently led the way to Fina Monaldo's room.
"How was she able to get out last night, signora?" Bruno asked.
The nurse snorted. "We have yet to figure that out."
"And what about the other victims? Did either of them try to escape?"
"No, though they were agitated last night."
When they got to the room and the nurse opened the door, Bruno's heart nearly broke at the sight that greeted them. Trish gasped quietly behind him.
Fina Monaldo lay strapped to the bed, shivering, eyes roving around the small cell wildly, her pupils blown with the drug that had likely been administered to her.
"And this is how you treat patients who have not had a good night, I see," Bruno commented darkly.
"It was for her own good," the nurse said.
Bruno simply shook his head and stepped into the room, crouching beside the bed. "Signorina Monaldo?"
Her roving eyes finally landed on him and welled up. "Signore Bucciarati," she whimpered, trying to reach out to him in her restraints.
Bruno took her hand and pressed it gently. "Don't worry, my dear, I'm going to get you out of here." He stood and turned to the nurse. "I'll be taking her back with us."
The woman put her foot down. "That is against policy and highly inappropriate. Her parents need to be notified if she leaves."
"I will write her parents personally," Bruno assured. "The fact is she is currently in a great amount of danger and it would benefit her to be guarded by Hunters at all times. And my associate Trish will act as a companion to her, so you can hardly call this inappropriate."
The nurse opened her mouth to protest, but Bruno had already turned around, giving a silent nod to Trish.
The young woman smiled as she took the nurse's hand. "Don't worry, signora. It won't be a problem. We'll see ourselves out."
The woman blinked and nodded silently before she simply walked off.
Bruno bent to undo the restraints holding Fina down and Trish helped.
"You-you're really getting me out of here?" the young woman asked, tearily.
"Yes," Bruno replied gently and was somewhat surprised as she threw her arms around him as soon as she was free. "Come now, let's get out of here."
"Thank you, oh thank you, signore."
She felt frigid and Bruno took his cloak off and wrapped it around her shoulders as he and Trish led Fina out of the sanitarium.
By the time they got back to the lodge, she was very nearly comatose, but she roused enough to get inside and allow Trish to help her clean up.
Bruno busied himself making some tea and toast for her as he was sure she hadn't eaten since the day before.
Trish found him in the kitchen.
"How is she?" Bruno asked.
"I think she'll be fine with a little rest," Trish said. "The poor thing looks awfully frail. She fell asleep almost as soon as I got her into bed. She could do with some decent food."
"I'll make up a nice stew for supper tonight," Bruno said. The others will be hungry from their hike as well."
Trish nodded and took the tray he had made up. "I'll see if she wants to wake up enough to get some of this into her."
It was quiet in the lodge that afternoon, with their two invalids. Bruno spelled Narancia again looking after Fugo while the boy ran to the nearest market to buy supplies for dinner.
Bruno bathed Fugo's brow intermittently, his fever even higher than it had been that morning.
Perhaps it was this case, but the scene brought back memories of tending to Fugo when he had first brought him home from the asylum. The boy had been a mess at that point, suffering through malnourishment and opiate withdrawals thanks to the poor treatment he'd endured.
The boy was in an awful state when Bucciarati was led into the small room by the orderly. It took everything in him not to tear the staff apart right there.
He looked practically feral, huddled in the corner, filthy, bound by a straight jacket.
"Can you take that thing off of him while we talk?" Bruno asked the staff. "Is it really necessary?"
"The boy is very violent," the orderly told him and the boy in question snarled at him.
Bruno on the other hand wasn't so convinced. "I assure you I have tangled with far more dangerous creatures than a frail boy."
The orderly hesitated and Bruno finally huffed a sigh.
"I'll do it myself then," he said and stepped forward.
"Signore, I wouldn't suggest it…"
The boy looked up at him distrustfully but Bruno gave him a stern look. "Don't act out and I'll get that damned thing off of you," he said, then more quietly. "I'm here to help, Pannacotta."
The boy blinked and seemed to relax slightly as Bruno reached out and started loosening the buckles, helping to slide it off of Fugo's shoulders and arms.
He instantly spread his arms, stretching, hands shaking uncontrollably.
"Who are you?" he asked.
Bruno pulled his credentials out of his coat and showed them to the boy. "Bruno Bucciarati—I'm a Hunter from Capitano Polpo's division in Napoli. I came to ask you some questions about a case I was working."
It had taken him two weeks to track down Pannacotta Fugo after the death of Piero DeLuca. The boy had seemed to disappear off the face of the earth. His parents had refused to say anything, and the DeLucas had swiftly escaped to their summer estate in the country, likely to try to avoid as much backlash as possible. Even the police didn't know where the boy had gone.
It wasn't until Bruno had done a little digging that he had discovered the boy had been admitted to an insane asylum. So in a way, he had been wiped off the face of the earth—at least as far as his family was concerned.
Fugo's eyes widened in disbelief at Bruno's introduction. "But…they told me. I was seeing things, but I was sure…"
"Whatever you saw was real, I assure you," Bucciarati told him. "Piero DeLuca was a dhampir. He hid it well, as he was a bastard son of the previous Contessa but there were rumors for years that the woman seemed particularly close with a young vampire belonging to a nearby family. I had been tasked with looking into the child murders and discovered that most of them occurred a day or two after a party and the bodies were left in the same vicinity where it was held. All the victims had some sort of connection to at least one of the attendees. In truth, you found out about DeLuca before I did. I had been systematically looking into all the families, but when I got the news that Piero DeLuca had been murdered by a young man with a silver blade, it was pretty easy to put the pieces together."
Fugo stared at him through the whole explanation. "You actually believe me?"
"It's undeniably the truth," Bruno told him. "Anyone who says differently is lying through their teeth."
He rose and Fugo suddenly shot him a desperate look. "I'll be back in a moment," he promised.
Bruno stepped outside the cell and nodded to the orderly.
"I will be taking the boy with me. He is part of an ongoing investigation and I will need him as a witness."
"I'm afraid that's not possible," the man said. "We were given very specific instructions that he not leave."
"And a significant donation, I'm sure," Bruno muttered and reached into his coat, pulling out a fat envelope. "Give this to the director, I'm sure it will be enough. Good day."
The orderly stared in shock at the envelope and Bruno waved his hand in dismissal before turning back toward Fugo's room.
The boy was sobbing quietly to himself, though he tried to hide it as Bruno returned.
"It's all right, Pannacotta," he said quietly. "I'm getting you out of here."
The boy's head snapped up. "You-you are?"
Bruno held out his hand to him with a smile. "Yes. Come on."
The boy took his hand and Bruno pulled him to his feet. Fugo's legs barely held him and it was slow going out to the carriage but the shudder that went through Fugo when he was finally free of that place sent a pang through Bruno's heart.
As they sat in the carriage, Fugo worried his hands in his lap. "I don't…I don't have anywhere to go. My father disowned me. I can't pay for your hospitality."
"I had no intention of making you," Bruno assured him. "We can talk about it a little more when you're feeling better, but I would like to offer you a job if you're interested. I'm currently working on building a team, and it would help me greatly to have someone to look through cases for me, keep things organized, and help with research. I've been told you're a very intelligent young man, very scholarly. I think you'd be a good fit."
Fugo blinked and swayed. Bruno reached across the carriage to catch him before he collapsed, and gently laid him down on the bench, taking his coat off and tucking it around him.
"It will be all right now, Pannacotta. I promise you."
Fugo let out a soft moan, breaking Bruno from his memories. He refreshed the cloth and replaced it over the sick man's eyes.
There was a soft knock on the door and Bruno looked up. "Come in," he called, expecting Trish.
Instead it was Signorina Monaldo, stepping tentatively into the room. She was still a little pale, but she was dressed in one of Trish's dresses and her hair was brushed and pinned on the back of her head.
"You're looking better," Bruno said with a smile. "How do you feel?"
"Much better," she replied sincerely. "That was the first real rest I've gotten for days." Her eyes went to the bed, expression falling as she saw Fugo. "Trish told me what had happened after I asked after Signore Fugo. I feel awful—it was my fault he was out there."
"I assure you he wouldn't blame you for it," Bucciarati told her kindly. "It was just an accident. He's suffering from a bit of a stubborn fever right now, but he'll be all right with the proper care."
Fina hesitated, folding her hands in front of her. "I wanted to thank you for getting me out of that awful place, Signore Bucciarati. I felt like I truly was going insane just being in there."
"It was no trouble," Bruno told her as he stood and offered the chair to her. "Do you remember anything about last night?"
Fina sat carefully. "I remember…getting out of bed, something about the moonlight but I really don't remember anything after that. When Signore Fugo found me, it was like I woke up from some dream. I just…felt like I needed to be somewhere. Was it because of…the vampire?"
Bruno nodded. "He was calling to you last night. You seem to be his choice of all the women he marked."
Her fingers went to the scars on her throat. "What does that mean?"
"It means that he's chosen you as his preferred mate, so to speak. He's marked you to turn fully."
Fina paled further. "But how can I stop that from happening?"
"You can't, but we can," Bruno assured her. "You will be safe here, but please promise to tell me the second you start feeling something odd."
Fina nodded. "I will."
She glanced back at Fugo again as he stirred and moaned slightly. "May I tend to him for a while? It's the least I can do to help."
Bruno nodded and left the young woman sitting by Fugo's bedside as he heard the front door to the lodge open.
He headed out to find that the others had returned.
"What did you find?" he asked.
"Not much of anything," Abbacchio replied in annoyance. "He's definitely been hiding out up there in the cabins. We found several animal corpses that had been drained of blood. But aside from that, he didn't seem to be anywhere nearby."
"Well, with the snow, it would be difficult for him to travel anywhere by day without the proper protection," Bruno commented. "You couldn't detect him anywhere, Giorno?"
"No. I think that he must have left the area after last night for fear that we would pursue him. I would guess that he probably caused the avalanche himself as a distraction."
"We'll need to figure out our next move then," Bruno mused. "Or his. Though that might be a little easier to figure out."
"How so?" Abbacchio asked.
"I brought Signorina Monaldo back here today. If she's the one he picked from the victims then he'll be coming to find her eventually. If we can't find him first, I'm sure he'll come to us."
"Wouldn't that be putting her in unnecessary danger?" Mista asked.
"Not as long as we keep an eye on her," Bruno assured them. "I'm not sure we have another choice in this case."
Fugo swam through a lake of fire before he surfaced into chill air once again, shivering. His mouth was dry as he tried to lick his lips, blinking his eyes open.
Everything was blurry but he was too tired to find his glasses. He could tell there was someone sitting beside his bed.
"Bu…cciarati," he managed to whisper, everything still hazy.
"I'm sorry," a feminine voice said. Trish? "I can get him if you want."
Fugo nodded and the figure left the room, leaving him to gather himself, trying to remember what had happened.
Bruno appeared a few minutes later, and sat by his bed, pressing knuckles to his forehead. "Good, your fever has finally broken. How do you feel?"
"Head hurts," Fugo murmured. "Can you…glasses?"
"I'm afraid they got lost in the avalanche. Did you bring an extra pair?"
Avalanche? That was right, he had been up on the mountain last night and had gotten caught in one.
"Should be…in my bag," he replied tiredly.
Bruno got up and returned shortly with a pair of glasses which he handed over. Fugo put them on with shaky hands and blinked as everything came into focus again.
Bucciarati helped him drink and he felt a little better after that, throat less dry.
"Fina," he said suddenly, the memory of the girl being hauled off by the sanitarium workers popping into his head. "Is she all right?"
"She's fine, she's actually here right now," Bruno assured him. "She's been tending you most of the evening."
Fugo realized that the figure by his bed much have been Fina Monaldo and the thought made him feel slightly self-conscious. "What about the vampire?"
"He's been evading us, but we're keeping a close eye out."
Fugo sighed and stared up at the ceiling. "I'm sorry I'm not much use right now."
"It's hardly your fault. Just concentrate on getting well," Bruno assured him as he stood up. "If you think you're up to it, you can come join everyone for dinner."
Fugo pushed himself up onto his elbows. He was a little dizzy and he still had a painful lump on his head, but Bucciarati helped him dress and guided him down the stairs to the dining room.
Narancia greeted him with a grateful smile. "Hey, look who's up! Feeling better?"
"I'm not sure better is the right word," Fugo muttered sitting down at the table.
"It's good to see you up and about, Signore Fugo."
Fugo turned and saw Fina Monaldo coming in from the kitchen, setting a basket of rolls down. She looked much better than before, seeming to be actually comfortable in her surroundings. She also looked quite beautiful in Trish's lavender dress, which was a thought that Fugo blamed on the concussion.
"It's good to see you out of the asylum," Fugo said sincerely.
Fina smiled a little bashfully. "I can't thank all of you enough."
"It's probably best to wait on thanking us until we've seen this case to a close," Bucciarati said as he sat down. "But it's our pleasure to extend our hospitality in the meantime."
Trish put a bowl of hearty looking stew in front of Fugo and he forced himself to eat a few bites, the nausea in his stomach thankfully subsiding after getting a little food into it.
Their dinner was interrupted, however, by someone pounding on the front door of the lodge.
"That can't be good," Abbacchio muttered.
"I'll see to it," Bruno said as he pushed his chair back and made his way to the foyer.
Everyone else got up and crowded in the doorway to listen in, curious.
"Oh, signore, thank goodness!" a man cried as Bucciarati opened the door. "There's been another attack! The vampire has attacked a maid from the Alfonsi estate down the mountain."
"When did this happen?" Bucciarati asked.
"About half an hour ago, I came up here as soon as I found out."
The Hunters were already moving around to gather their gear before Bucciarati turned to them. "Let's go. It seems he's looking for new flesh after all." He turned back to the man. "Signore, what paths are there from the estate back up the mountain?"
As the man gave Bucciarati a brief rundown, Fugo turned to see that Fina was the only one still sitting at the table, trembling slightly. He moved back over and took a seat beside her.
"It will be all right," he told her.
She gave him a tight smile. "I do feel safer here. But I just wish he would stop. I don't even know how he found me and the others to begin with. Why did he choose us?"
"Who's to know?" Fugo said darkly. "Perhaps you all fit a certain preference. The important thing to remember is that none of it was because of anything you did."
Her shoulders slumped. "Thank you. I'm trying to remember that."
Bruno ducked his head in. "We're heading out. You and Trish will be staying here. And Signorina Monaldo, be sure to tell someone if you sense anything or feel at all odd."
She nodded and Bucciarati and the others took their leave swiftly for the hunt.
Trish sighed as she looked around at all the half-eaten food. "I suppose I'll just cover it for them when they get back."
None of them were very hungry anymore, and they decided to retire to the parlor while Trish offered to make them some hot chocolate and a treat to calm the nerves.
Fugo stoked the fire up again and went to sit on the sofa near Fina.
"You seem to know so much about how I'm feeling," Fina commented. "Is this a common occurrence in your line of work?"
"Not exactly," Fugo replied quietly, looking into the fire. "Let's just say that, I went through something similar to you. No one believed me when I said I was attacked, my family marked me as an embarrassment, and had me put away in an asylum to be forgotten. Until Bucciarati came along and got me out."
Fina gasped. "That's horrible!"
"I'm better off where I am now," Fugo assured her. "I never fit in among my societal peers. Working for Bucciarati, I could actually do something useful with my knowledge."
"I'm happy you have a place you feel like you belong," Fina told him sincerely.
Fugo was silent for a long moment before he inhaled deeply and turned to her. "Signorina Monaldo…"
"Please, call me Fina, Signore Fugo," she said earnestly. "I'm not so fond of my family name at the moment."
"Understandable," Fugo replied, then added softly, "You can call me Pannacotta if you wish."
She smiled, a faint blush tinting her cheeks. Fugo found himself briefly lost in her emerald green eyes, but blinked and cleared his throat. "Fina, has Bucciarati…told you anything about the bite on your neck?"
Her fingers went to it absently. "Is there something I should know about it?"
Fugo sighed heavily. "There are two kinds of vampire bites," he began. "The first is just for feeding." He rolled up his sleeve, showing two faint pink dots on the inside of his forearm. "I've provided blood to my supernatural teammates in emergency situations before. It's perfectly safe when cleaned with a little holy water to avoid infection. But vampires can also bite a person with the intent to turn them, passing venom into their blood stream which instantly bonds the victim to the vampire in question." He nodded to Fina's throat. "That's what happened to you. When that happens, a person is left in a sort of limbo. They're not fully turned, so the full transformation hasn't occurred, but the draw to the vampire that turned you, the craving for blood, can become so strong that it could make you go mad."
"But would it stop if…the vampire is dead?" Fina asked.
Fugo shook his head. "Unfortunately, most of the time that only increases the madness."
"So that's what will happen to me?" Fina demanded.
"There is a way to reverse it, without having to fully turn," Fugo said quietly. "An old Hunter's remedy. But it's very harsh, and it's possible you would not survive taking it."
"But if I don't I'd go mad anyway?" Fina asked.
Fugo nodded. "I'm afraid so."
She swallowed hard and looked away, hands wringing in her lap.
"It's a choice you'll have to make for yourself," Fugo said.
Her head suddenly went up and she stopped wringing her hands, leaving them still and trembling in her lap.
"What is it?" Fugo asked, suddenly on the alert.
"I don't know; I just feel very odd all of a sudden." Her breathing was picking up and Fugo reached out instinctively to take her hands, pressing them between his when he realized how cold they were.
"Fina, what's wrong?" he demanded.
Her eyes suddenly blew wide and she let out a shuddering whimper. "He's coming! My god, he's coming!"
Fugo barely had a chance to register what she said before Trish hurried into the parlor.
"Fugo!" she called. "I'm sensing something coming in. It's not familiar."
Fugo got to his feet and rushed to his bag, digging out the weapons he had brought. "We need to lock all the doors and window now!"
"There's no time! He's already here!" Fina cried. "I don't…I want to go to him…"
"Fina, you need to stay here," Trish told her. "Whatever you're feeling you have to fight it."
"Take her to one of the back rooms and arm yourself," Fugo told Trish. "I'll try to hold him off as long as I can."
"Pannacotta, please!" Fina cried. "He'll kill you!"
Fugo strapped several holy water steam bombs onto his belt. He couldn't use them with Trish around, but if he had the chance they were more than effective.
The crash of glass had all of them spinning around to see the window on one side of the parlor shattered, the freezing air pouring in as a dark-haired man stepped through the window, boots crunching against the broken glass.
"Stay back!" Fugo snarled, wrenching his crucifix from his pocket and thrusting it toward the vampire.
The creature sneered, cringing slightly, but continuing to move forward.
"My dear Fina, it's time to come with me," he said.
"You'll not have her!" Fugo snarled, raising a silver stake. "She isn't yours!"
The vampire looked at Fugo with a loathsome expression. "I put my mark on her, Hunter, it's you who has stolen her from me!"
Fina cried out and dropped into a swoon. Fugo used her distraction to rush the vampire, swinging with the stake right at his heart.
He was still slow and clumsy from his recovery however, and the vampire sped toward him, grabbing his wrist and instantly wrenched it to one side so that Fugo was forced to drop the stake.
He cried out and a second later he was slammed up against the wall, his already concussed brain clattering around in his skull yet again.
"You think you can take what is mine, pissant?!" the vampire snarled as he got his hand around Fugo's throat, squeezing tightly. "Fina is mine, for eternity. I'm going to make you watch me turn her before I let you die—let you be her first meal."
"No!" Fina screamed.
Trish grabbed a sword from their supplies and rushed the vampire, swinging.
He turned casually and backhanded her across the face so hard Trish spun into a wall and went down, unconscious.
The vampire smirked at Fugo as the Hunter was clawing at his hands, fighting for breath, then he turned toward Fina and crooked a finger. "Come here, my darling."
Fina sobbed even as she was drawn forward at the vampire's beckoning.
"Please don't hurt him," she pleaded.
"Does he really mean that much to you?" the vampire asked cruelly, squeezing Fugo's throat tighter. His vision was almost completely black, throat and lungs screaming. "Perhaps I should simply kill him then to erase the problem…"
"Stop, don't!" Fina cried, rushing forward to grab the vampire's arm. "Don't kill him, please! I promise I'll go with you if you let him live!"
"F-Fi…na," Fugo croaked, begging.
"Will you?" the vampire purred. "Alright, I'll humor you…but only if you agree to drink my blood first."
"No," Fugo gasped. "Do—"
The vampire slammed him back against the wall again and finally released him, leaving Fugo choking and dizzy on the ground.
"Whatever you want me to do," Fina said.
The vampire smirked and brought his hand to his mouth, sinking his teeth into the pad of his finger before he raised it up, a drop of crimson blood ready to fall.
"Come now, my dear; have a taste."
"Don't!" Fugo croaked, reaching for the stake he had dropped earlier.
The vampire snarled at him and slammed his boot down on Fugo's hand, causing him to cry out.
However, that small distraction was enough for Fina to withdrawn a small knife from her skirts that looked a lot like Trish's silver blade and drove it directly into the vampire's chest.
He stared in disbelief as Fina stepped back, shaking.
"You little strumpet! How dare you—"
The door slammed open revealing Mista and Abbacchio who shouted, "Get down!"
Fugo grabbed Fina and hauled her to the floor, covering her with his body as the other Hunters opened fire. The vampire was soon riddled with dozens of silver bullets, which was enough to bring him down. Fugo held Fina's head against his shoulder as Abbacchio unsheathed his sword and swiftly cut the vampire's head off in one clean slice.
Fugo breathed a sigh of relief, holding Fina while she sobbed against him.
"It's okay. It's over now," he whispered.
The next morning, they returned to Napoli, bringing Fina with them. Bucciarati had spoken with the other families about the antidote for the girls and had made arrangements for them and their families to be taken to Napoli where they would be accommodated while the girls recovered.
Fina's family, however, had completely ignored any attempt to get into contact with them, seeming not to want anything else to do with their daughter. Fugo could tell that it was weighing on her, but so was the vampire's venom, corroding in her veins.
By the time they got back to Napoli, she was suffering quite badly.
"Please, Pannacotta. Whatever happens, I don't want this," she said quietly to Fugo as he helped her into the mansion.
Melone had come to help administer the antidote shortly after and Fugo had watched, pained, as it started to take effect on Fina.
"If she makes it through the first twenty-four hours, she should be fine," Melone said, gripping his shoulder before he made his retreat.
Fugo sat tirelessly by Fina's bedside in the infirmary. Cooling her burning fever, making sure she didn't thrash right out of the cot, holding her hand when she sobbed in pain and terror. He barely let anyone spell him for more than a few minutes for necessity's sake. He couldn't stand the thought of anything happening while he wasn't around.
But she got through the first twenty-four hours, and then her fever started to fall. After forty-eight hours it had broken completely and Fina was now simply sleeping off the effects in complete exhaustion.
Fugo too, was near collapse at this point, but relieved. He simply pillowed his head at her shoulder and fell fast asleep, Fina's thin hand still held loosely in his own.
On the morning of the third day, Fugo woke to the stirring of blankets and the soft, hoarse voice saying, "Pannacotta?"
He sat up instantly, unable to keep the blush from his face as he realized his current position had been noticed. But his embarrassment soon turned to a smile of relief as he saw Fina staring up at him.
"Fina? How are you feeling?" he asked her quietly.
"Exhausted," she admitted. "Is it…over?"
He smiled. "Yes. It's over."
Her eyes filled with tears and Fugo clutched her hand again, holding on tightly.
The next day was Christmas Eve and Fugo was feeling a lot less melancholy than he thought he would be, all things considered. Though that might have something to do with the sight of Fina up and about, sitting in the parlor with Trish having tea.
"You're looking a lot better," Fugo said with a soft smile.
Fina flushed and smiled back. "All thanks to you, I'm sure. I was told you were with me the whole time."
Fugo didn't know what to reply to that, but thankfully Trish cut in tactfully. "Let me get you some tea as well, Fugo."
She got up and Fugo went to sit on the loveseat next to Fina.
"Bucciarati sent a telegram to my cousin in Rome after I got here. I got a letter from her today," Fina told him, and picked up an envelope that had been sitting next to her cup. "She and her husband said they wanted me to come spend Christmas with them."
Some of Fugo's happiness filtered away again, but he smiled genuinely. "That's wonderful."
"I think it will work out for the best," Fina said. "A change of scenery wouldn't be bad, I think. And I'm hoping to find a job as a governess there."
"When do you leave?" Fugo asked.
She gave him a slightly sad smile. "This evening. Signore Bucciarati got me a ticket on the 6 p.m. train. Trish is taking me shopping to buy a couple dresses and necessities. My cousin said she would have one of her own footmen go to my family's house to get my things after the holidays."
Fugo nodded. He would be sorry to see Fina go so soon, but it did seem like she would at least be in a more accepting place with her cousin. Hopefully a place where she could properly heal.
"I'll take you to the station tonight," he offered.
"Oh, thank you, I appreciate it, Pannacotta. And everything else all of you have done. I don't think I'll ever be able to thank you enough."
Fugo tried to busy himself for the rest of the day, and there was certainly enough hustle and bustle with Christmas preparations. They would be having a big dinner that night so that the servants could have the next day off.
Fugo wasn't really interested though. He had selfishly wished that Fina could have stayed with them, but he wouldn't deny her spending the holiday with her family either.
He rode with her to the station that evening and saw her to the platform.
"I wish you the best," he told her a little awkwardly. Not very good at goodbyes. "Sometimes a new start is for the better."
"It seems to have worked out well for you," Fina said. The train whistle blew and she gave him a sad smile. "Please don't be sad, Pannacotta. It's Christmas tomorrow. Go celebrate it with your family. I'll write you soon."
He flushed. "If you ever need anything. You know where to fine me—us."
She smiled fondly and leaned forward and kissed him swiftly on the cheek before hurrying toward the train.
Fugo blinked and waved to her silently. He watched until the train left the station, then shoved his hands into his pockets and trudged away.
He didn't take the carriage back, instead choosing to walk, despite the long distance.
He didn't even know how long it took him to return to the mansion, having walked around aimlessly for a while but he was sure it was long past dinnertime.
He wasn't that upset about it though; after all, he would only dampen the mood. It was probably for the best.
However as soon as he walked in the door, he was instantly greeted by Narancia and Mista with glasses of punch in their hands.
"There you are!" Mista grinned, instantly grabbing Fugo's shoulder and drawing him in. "Come on! It's time for supper."
"Supper? You didn't have to wait for me…" Fugo replied, suddenly feeling bad.
"Of course we did!" Narancia scoffed. "Christmas is for family! We're not going to have Christmas dinner without all of our family here."
Fina's words came back to him suddenly and Fugo felt a warm sensation pooling in his chest. He smiled and reached out to take the cup of punch Narancia offered him.
"You're right. I'm sorry I was so late."
The sound of singing rose from the outside and Trish hurried into the entryway.
"Carolers!" she cried in joy as she went to throw open the door.
All the Hunters gathered in the entryway to listen and as Bucciarati handed the carolers a few coins and closed the door, they all filed into the dining room where the feast was laid out.
"Let's eat, I'm starving!" Narancia shouted as Abbacchio scolded him half-heartedly to be quieter.
Bucciarati took a seat next to Fugo and leaned in. "Are you doing all right?" he asked quietly.
Fugo smiled, letting out a long exhale. "Actually. Yes. I think I am."
Merry Christmas and Happy New year from Napoli!