Makoto found that Amamiya's mechanical horse was a little odd to ride. It followed the proper commands. It moved like a horse should. But it was too obedient. Suspiciously obedient. She expected the horse to do something soon, some naughty thing that horses liked to try on their riders sometimes, but it never came. That was the strangeness of this mechanical creature. The partnership with the intellect of the animal could never be gained. But perhaps the physical advantages were a fair tradeoff.

The trip back to the Azabu district took about the same time as it would have on Johanna. Makoto never rode the motorcycle that fast in the city in case some child were to jump out in front of her. She rode the horse about the same speed. Night fully enclosed the city now, but in Azabu, the oil street lamps were already burning, keeping the area more or less lit. She'd felt a bit uneasy leaving the physician's office, wondering if the unknown vampire was lurking nearby in the dark. But nothing appeared, and these streets of home made her feel safe again.

That was a very dangerous feeling, Makoto realized. She let her right-hand drift closer to her gun and she shifted back into the alert frame of mind she used when outside the city. If she was getting involved with a noble vampire, she could no longer assume safety anywhere. That was a frightening realization, but also an exciting one- it felt… mature. Only children assumed the world was safe.

But she arrived at the gate to the Niijima estate without incident. The guard post was empty, but it was night, so Caroline was on duty. Justine was the day shift and would have already left. The two sisters worked for Okumura Security, a private firm famous in the city for trustworthy guards- or mercenaries if one wanted to use a more controversial word.

And the guard post being empty was common for Caroline's shift. Makoto once asked her about that: Where are you at night, Caroline? I would expect you in the guard post. Caroline had looked at Makoto like she was stupid: Yeah, that's why I'm not in it.

"Halt!" came the expected voice. Tonight it came from the shadows on the right side of the road. "Who goes here?"

"It's me, Caroline," Makoto said loudly. She dismounted before the gate.

Caroline walked into the light of the gate lamp, her rifle first aimed at Makoto, but then dropping. "Ms. Niijima!"

She was a small, blonde, curt, cold woman who was a wicked shot with a rifle. Makoto had been there when Father had interviewed her. It was several years ago now when diminutive Caroline stood confidently and somewhat definitely before Father's stern gaze. Her sister, Justine, simply looking calmly confident. Father had them shoot clay pigeons. They didn't miss.

Caroline walked forward, her gold-brown eyes shining briefly in the lamplight. She unlocked the gate. "Mr. Yoshida wouldn't shut up about you being gone. Walked out here seven times last night to ask me about you."

"I'm sorry to have worried him," Makoto mumbled as she led the horse through the gate.

"Not as sorry as me," Caroline's voice was heavily laced with annoyance. Makoto didn't think Caroline liked her. Then again, Makoto didn't think Caroline liked anyone- except maybe her own sister.

Caroline eyed Amamiya's horse. "Where did you get this relic?"

"Borrowed it."

"From?"

Makoto felt a reluctance to talk about Amamiya here. This was the house of a famous vampire-hunting family. He was a half-vampire. But then again, after the stunt at Shujin Girl's Academy, she would be lucky if some rumor of her didn't hit the papers… but again- Amamiya had not gone into the school. Perhaps their temporary association could remain private.

"A fellow vampire hunter," Makoto said, satisfied that she found an answer that wasn't a lie.

"I see," said Caroline, her voice full of suspicion. But she wouldn't press. She was a hired guard. "Well, go talk to Mr. Yoshida. Otherwise, he will be out here again in his nightgown."

"Yes."

Makoto led the horse up the road to the looming two-story mansion. Four-white pillars stood around the front door like grey sentinels in the dark. Dim lights were on in the house. It had electricity. A rare luxury in the city.

Then the vampire came back to Makoto's mind. She turned back and the gate was locked and Caroline was gone. Likely off to a new hiding spot.

"Be careful, Caroline!" Makoto called. "There is a vampire in the city."

A soft whisper came from closer than Makoto expected. "I'm always careful."

Makoto peered into the nearby shrubberies, but could not spot the woman. Caroline was crazy good at that. Makoto left her to her work.

Since Amamiya's horse needed no grain nor water- nor any fuel that Makoto was aware of… she would have to ask Amamiya about that. Surely it didn't just run forever. But that was a curiosity for another day. She left it standing still near the front porch and then walked up onto the white wood porch and through the heavy oaken doors. She took off her boots in the coatroom, and then pushed through the next set of heavy oak doors into the main atrium of the mansion.

"Ms. Niijima!" came a rich, carrying male voice. Makoto looked up to see Taranosuke Yoshida at the top of the curved stairs in the main hall. The slightly chubby older man was dressed in a nightgown- the estate's lifelong butler no longer stayed up into the late hours in a tuxedo, as he had when he was younger.

His expression was a mixture of relief and anger. Makoto knew that face. That was the face he made when she did something wrong: like play with something that wasn't a toy; or sneak cookies; or hide from bath time. The man was part-butler, part-nanny, and as close a thing to a mother as either Makoto or Sae knew. Mother died long ago. Makoto had no memory of her. Sae had only a little. But Yoshida had been with Father for longer than even mother had. Before even when Father was famous.

Yoshida was coming down the stairs in a rush, which was much slower these days.

"Ms. Niijima," he said again as he neared, "Why did you not return home? I haven't slept~ I feared- oh! It doesn't matter what I feared- it's none of it true." He finally made it to the ground floor and swept Makoto into a hug.

Makoto wasn't really in the mood, but it was for Yoshida's sake. He did worry. And his parental embrace was associated with home in Makoto's mind.

"Sorry, Mr. Yoshi," said Makoto as the hug ended. She used the old nickname to please him. "Sae and I had a bit of a fight. I didn't want to come home and see her. I'm sorry I worried you."

"Yes, I know. Your sister told me the cruel thing she said to you. Not willingly, of course. But I got it out of her. She's too much like your father, you know. Stubborn, but bad at spinning webs of lies. Niijimas are not spiders, and they always get stuck in their own webs, as I've told you."

Yes, he had. Many, many times. Did you take a cookie, Makoto? No. What is that chocolate on your lip, then? I dunno. Are you trying to be a little spider, Makoto? No. Oh, and yet what are these crumbs on your shirt.. You seem to be sticking in your own web of lies.

Makoto remained silent. Yoshida seemed to take that as defiance. He drew himself up and put his hands on his hips.

"And where have you been?"

Makoto felt resentment bubble within her. What was this now? It was like when she came home late from Shujin Girls Academy. He was treating her just like the schoolgirl she used to be. That was two years ago. That was over!

"None of your business, Mr. Yoshida," said Makoto, using the honorific with an acidic tone.

Yoshida seemed to deflate at the sarcastic formality. They both knew what she was doing. She was casting him back into the role of butler. Of employee. Which he technically was, but in reality, was so much not that at all. It was a cruel barb that surprised Makoto herself. Where was this coming from? Why stab at Yoshida like that?

But Yoshida seemed to recover rapidly enough. He'd basically raised two teenage girls while Father spent most of his time on vampire hunts. Yoshida had faced worse verbal abuse than that. Much worse from Sae, Makoto knew for a fact. But never from Makoto- so perhaps that was new to him.

"You need to speak with your sister," said Yoshida, "You two mustn't grow apart."

"Is she here?"

"No."

"Good. Then I can't speak with her, can I?"

"Do it when she gets home, then."

Makoto's resentment alighted into a simmering anger. "Why should I go to her! She said the wrong thing to me!"

"You know she won't. She's too set in her mind. Too focused on standing her ground."

"She's in the wrong!"

"She's most immobile when she is wrong!"

So Makoto should bow for forgiveness over nothing because Sae was more stubborn than she! Well in that case, Makoto would be stubborn, too! "Then, fuck her! She can be immobile the fuck away from me!"

Makoto broke eye contact with a shocked Yoshida, and she began walking up the stairs behind him.

"Hime-kun!" said Yoshida sharply.

Makoto froze on the third step, her mind recoiled against itself in shock. It was his nickname for her: 'little boyish princess' was more or less the connotation. A joke between them. A private meaning. But for Makoto's entire life, it was always spoken with a soft and amused voice- to hear it in the tone of a rebuke brought her up short. Her neck turned and she stared back at Yoshida with wide-eyed astonishment.

Yoshida's dark eyes softened when he looked upon her. "Your sister is drunk on the pride of your family name. If you don't snap her out of it, she may destroy everything your father worked for."

Makoto didn't know what to make of that. But the earnestness of Yoshida's voice halted any comeback she might have considered. After a brief moment of them looking at each other in silence, the main hall of the Niijima mansion dim around them, Makoto broke the spell by turning away from Yoshida and continuing her climb.

What did he mean by that? Drunk on pride? Yoshida did love allusion and metaphor, but that lacked a certain subtlety Makoto was used to. Was Sae behaving that strangely? She'd always been tense. Serious. Focused on the future. In Sae's mind, the present was merely a stepping stone to tomorrow. Was that what Yoshida meant? Or was Sae up to something else?

Yoshida was always a worry-wart. Sae was fine. And once Makoto killed this vampire with Amamiya, Sae would see the error of her own views and soften. Makoto could ask her all about everything then.

Makoto turned left at the top of the stairs. It was basically her wing of the house. So many rooms. So few people. Too many rooms for old Yoshida to take care of these days. Most were closed off. Furniture protected from dust by white sheets. Awaiting the next social party thrown by Mr. Niijima to celebrate a successful hunt. The house, the daughters, the butler- all awaiting the master who left to track a vampire and never came back. So dark rooms sat quietly, filled with odd white shapes collecting a thin layer of linty memory. A house of ghosts.

Makoto realized she didn't want to be here. That was a new, sad thought. She didn't want to be in her own home. With a heavy heart, She entered her own room. A tidy, elegant room of rich, blue floral wallpaper. A four-post bed, golden wood poles gleaming, carved with geometric shapes. Blue linens. A desk against the far wall, a large make-up mirror there- though it was never used for that purpose. Makoto knew the art of makeup as any proper high-class lady. Yoshida had tutored her and Sae well. But these days... she didn't have much use for it.

On the desk was a small, painted portrait of Father. He was as stern-looking in the painting as he was in real life. His jaw set. His eyes looking beyond to some distant target. But it reminded Makoto of how that serious face could turn into a jovial, laughing expression, instantly transforming into a smile-wrinkled visage with sparkling eyes. Makoto walked to the desk and stared at the painting for a moment.

She opened the drawer of the desk. The shallow drawer was divided into lots of little compartments, like a jewelry box. A large collection of jewelry was organized here: gold; silver; gemstones of all colors- but like the makeup mirror- mostly unused. One large compartment was empty, however. The tiara. A tiara of sparkling white costume jewels. Father gave it to her on her twelfth birthday. A princess's crown. She'd given it immediately back to a surprised Father. Take it with you out of the city. It's good luck.

Father laughed and agreed. And it had become a ritual between them. Makoto would give him the tiara when he left. And Father would return it to her when he got back. But now she supposed the compartment would forever be empty. Makoto shut the drawer. She looked into the make-up mirror. Her crimson eyes stared into herself, bordered all around by the blue of her room. She looked tired, rings under both eyes. She resolved to bathe and go to bed.

The hot water and privacy helped soothe her, but after laying down in bed, Makoto found herself sleepless in the dark of her room. Her bed felt wonderful. It was not too warm and not too cold. But though she closed her eyes and waited. She could not fall asleep. Her mind wandered in a circle. What did Yoshida mean about Sae? Was Sae different? No. She didn't seem different. Yoshida was worried about nothing. But Sae had acted very strangely last night.

She forced herself away from the topic and the image of Amamiya came to her mind. Amamiya Ren. Dhampir. Vampire Hunter. A strange, quiet... man with strange, wild hair. Dark. Somewhat dead looking at first glance. But she'd discovered multiple times today that he had life in him. He laughed. He seemed to care. About his trade. And about people. Then for some reason, she thought about how she put her leg on his saddle to stop him from tying it. She watched again how his eyes had traveled slowly up the length of her leg. Makoto remembered Takemi's words: you must drive men mad!

No. That was a silly line of thought. Amamiya had looked intently at Ann. Not at herself.

And what was this line of thought! He was a dhampir! Who cares what he does or doesn't think about her leg!

She forced her mind away from the topic and waited in the dark, eyes closed, mind more or less clear. Still no sleep. Well- there was one last thing to try… Makoto opened her eyes to make sure her room door was closed. It wasn't enough just to look. She got up and tested the lock. It was locked. She climbed back into bed. Waited for long moments to be sure no one was in the hallway. Not that anyone came into this side of the house anymore.

Sure she was alone. She moved her hand down between her own legs and pressed upon her groin through her panties. A thrill of desire ran through her body. If she did this, she could probably fall asleep after. She pressed again.

Koohm!

A rifle shot! Makoto flung herself out of bed and grabbed her revolver from the nightstand. She stood tense in the dark, armed, in her undergarments. No other gunshot followed. Makoto hurried to dress.

She cautiously left her room and crept down the dimly lit hallway. In the atrium, Mr. Yoshida was already heading down the stairs to the front door. He had a large blunderbuss in his hands. He glanced at her. "It came from the front acreage!"

"Caroline!"

Makoto hurried down the steps, easily outpacing Yoshida. She flung open the first of the oaken doors but halted at the side of the outdoor set. Yoshida hurried up and halted at the other side of the door. They nodded to each other. Father had taught them both to do this sort of thing.

Makoto reached for the door on her side and opened it, granting Yoshida's blunderbuss the first view of the porch. He indicated she should keep going. She opened it wider, using the gap in the door jam to look out directly in front of the door, the porch, the drive. It appeared empty. Next was to check to the left… Makoto began to move around the door.

"It's clear!" yelled Caroline's voice.

Yoshida sighed in audible relief. He lifted a lantern from where they hung on the coatroom wall. He quickly lit it with some available fire-strikers. Makoto opened the door. Caroline was walking down the drive towards them. She seemed unconcerned, which Makoto trusted meant the area was safe. Caroline wasn't the type to take chances.

"What happened?" Makoto asked as the short woman approached.

"A shadow came over the wall near the gate. I shot it, and it didn't like that. It left double-fast."

"A shadow? Did it look like a man or a woman," asked Yoshida.

Caroline shook her head. "Neither. It was just a shadow. It was like a pool of liquid. Sent goosebumps all over my body. So I shot it."

Shooting without confirming the target? Well, if something weird came over the wall in the dark, not shooting it would probably be the dumber thing to do. Caroline was certainly not dumb. And Makoto knew from her father's stories that noble vampires could transform. A liquid shadow. It didn't seem impossible. Had the creature actually followed her here from the clinic?

"Show me where it was," said Makoto.

"Of course."

"Yoshida. May I have the lantern?"

He handed it over. "Be careful, Makoto."

"Caroline is here," said Makoto, curtly. "And I'm a hunter, too. Remember?"

"Sorry…" Yoshida said quietly, worry still in his eyes.

Makoto followed Caroline to the front gate, the guards' eyes roving the darkness ahead of them. Alert for a return of their strange visitor.

"Here's about where it was when I shot it."

Makoto lowered the lantern and scoured the grass. There didn't seem to be anything. No. Wait. Something glistened in the foliage. Makoto knelt down, bringing the lantern closer. Some kind of liquid was here. Blood? She reached for it. Then she stopped herself. What good would touching it do? But blood had a smell. And Amamiya could smell things. She set the lantern down next to the liquid.

"Caroline. Wait here. I'm going to run back to the house for something."

Makoto ran back to the house, past a confused Yoshida, and fetched a small glass from the dining room. She ran back out into the front yard to where Caroline waited near the lantern. Makoto bent down and collected some of the liquid into the glass. A few half-drops, nothing more. She hoped it would be enough.

She looked at the dark substance in the lamplight. Despite the dangerous reality of a noble vampire perhaps trying to sneak into her family home, Makoto gleefully held up her first clue. And she now had herself a bloodhound in the form of Amamiya the dhampir. She felt a savage grin grow on her face, she lowered the lantern to hide it from Caroline.

Makoto looked out into the darkness of the street. Yes. Run, vampire. Retreat. You've come to my home. And tomorrow, I will come to yours.