After making sure that she looked dignified, as dignified as any human could look after running at full speed for ten minutes could look anyway, Stella turned to examine the castle.
He expression betrayed none of the awe that she felt upon seeing the high rise towers and the huge walls, made of stones so big that no normal human would ever be able to lift one. After staring at the castle for a few seconds, Stella decided she didn't like it after all. The castle looked o be ancient, on top of looking like a haunted house.
She much preferred June's mansion, though unreasonable in it's size, it looked like a home. Like a family lived there, full of love. Home. An image floated in front of Stella's eyes as she thought of the word, and she quickly shook it away. She had no idea when she had come to associate that place with home. The image that had come into her mind had been a little cozy cottage, right in the middle of a forest. Stella's eyes widened that it was the only place in her life she wanted to return to. She sighed and pulled herself out of her thoughts, they had entered the main gate of Sharp's castle, and she needed to act tough.
Stella had wiped off all traces of awe upon seeing the castle and her face was a bored impassive mask by the time they reached the front doors. Sharp tightened his hold on her hand and pulled her close to him as the door opened and a man, a little older than Sharp himself, walked out.
"Master Darius! How great of you to visit. And Miss Penelope too! I must say . . . . " But his words seemed to be caught in his throat as he noticed Stella. Stella knew he caught whiff of her scent, the scent of her blood, before he saw her. She saw all the signs, the expanding of the irises, the way his mouth watered, how the shape of his lips seemed to distort a little as his fangs came out of their own accord. The man focused only on Stella, Sharp and Penelope forgotten, and his body started to form itself into a little crouch, ready to pounce on its prey.
Sharp had apparently noticed all this too, as he pulled Stella so close that she was half hidden behind his large body. He cleared his throat and spoke, "Hamilton." The threat was very evident in his voice. The man named Hamilton seemed to come to his senses a little, as he straightened up and began looking from Stella to Sharp, and then back again.
Stella saw that his eyes were crimson maroon, a sign that he had clearly fed recently and wasn't hungry, and she breathed a sigh of relief. It meant that her blood would not drive him out of his senses. It would drive him crazy, to be sure, but not morbid. The man had still not been able to pull himself together completely when a new voice sounded from behind him.
"Jackson! Why aren't you inviting the guests is?" A new voice thundered, and Stella saw an aging man, with the roots of his hair already turning white, come into view. He stiffened as he too caught Stella's scent.