The night air hung heavy with tension as Marcus, his eyes locked onto Darius, confronted him with a question that echoed in the silence. "You still haven't told me what you are?" he demanded, the intensity in his gaze cutting through the darkness like a blade.
Darius, caught off guard by the question, had hoped to evade it for a little longer. The attempt to kiss Marcus had been a deliberate distraction, a futile hope that Marcus would be momentarily diverted. He couldn't deny the gnawing suspicion that maybe his powers were waning, leaving him vulnerable to the inquiries he preferred to avoid.
Avoiding Marcus's gaze, Darius took a moment that stretched into an eternity for Marcus before finally responding. "Marky, can I call you Marky?" Darius ventured, a playful glint in his eyes. The nickname didn't sit well with Marcus, but before he could voice his displeasure, Darius continued, "Don't worry, you'll get used to it. Since you want to get to know me so bad, what I am is complex, handsome, indestructible, and most of all, supernatural."
Marcus, perplexed by the cryptic response, retorted, "Supernatural, indeed. You're more likely just a magician or sorcerer pulling tricks. I've heard of people like you..."
Darius interrupted him, dropping a bombshell that left Marcus stunned. "You mean people like your brother." The mention of Ethan injected a twist into the conversation that Marcus hadn't anticipated. Before he could question why Darius had brought Ethan into the discussion, Darius closed the gap between them, invading Marcus's personal space.
"I saw everything that happened last night," Darius confessed. "I saw how defenseless you were against that beast, before your brother stepped in like a man driven by unseen forces. The poor boy wasn't even in control. I can't help but imagine what he will be capable of when he fully embraces his power."
Darius's revelation shook Marcus, casting a shadow of doubt on the ordinary nature he had assumed of the mysterious man in the dark alley. Marcus shot Darius an unsatisfied look, frustration evident in his eyes. Darius, offering only vague responses and withholding a complete explanation, watched as Marcus, conflicted, made his way home, leaving the quiet, secluded area.
As Marcus departed, Darius called out, "We will meet again, Marky." A sardonic smile played on his lips. Marcus, stealing one last glance over his shoulder, found Darius gone. He scanned the surroundings, searching for any trace of the enigmatic man, but Darius had vanished into the night.
With a lingering sense of unease, Marcus continued on his way home, the unanswered questions swirling in his mind.
Not far away, a mysterious figure in a black hood, most of his face concealed, observed Darius and Marcus. A raven perched on his shoulder. Swiftly, he penned a note, attached it to the bird's feet, and watched it vanish into the night, its inky silhouette merging with the darkness.
In the dimly lit sitting room of Gabriel's cottage, a sense of urgency hung heavy in the air. Fantine, her eyes reflecting a mixture of determination and concern, faced Gabriel. The flickering candlelight cast shadows that danced across the room as she broached a weighty subject.
"If we succeed in rescuing Ethan and Taran tomorrow night, Gabriel, you can't come back to Blackwood. It's too dangerous," Fantine declared, her voice carrying a somber note. "You might end up chained and stuffed in a place where the sun don't shine."
Gabriel, seated across from Fantine, maintained a calm facade. "No one would suspect me of such a brazen act," he reassured her, attempting to quell her worries. "My cover is impeccable. They all see me as nothing more than a meek trader."
Fantine, however, shook her head, her gaze unwavering. "This isn't about your ability to keep these people fooled, Gabriel. Your disguise is flawless. It's about what I have seen."
Gabriel replied, "I must inform my fellow werewolves in Blackwood that returning from the Coleridge trip isn't happening." Fantine countered, "They will have to understand the situation, your son is way more important than any revenge mission."
In the tension-laden silence that followed, Aria, perceptive as ever, caught a familiar scent wafting through the room. Gabriel, too, registered the subtle change in the air. Turning to Aria, he inquired about the smell, and her response sent a shiver down his spine.
"Vampires, I meant a vampire," Aria answered, her gaze darting to Thorne with evident concern. She continued "the vampire we encountered in Ainsborough, he is here, lurking in the bushes close to this house."
Thorne, frustration etched across his features, erupted in a growl. "Why are those bloodsuckers always putting their fangs where they don't belong? I thought we lost him."
Fantine, maintaining her composure, intervened. "Not all vampires are the same, Thorne. Some of them are actually good, complicated, but good."
Thorne's anger flared. "I guess you haven't left the confines of your home in a long time. That's why you don't know what vampires are doing to our kind. To me, they are all the same. They capture and use sorcerers with reckless and inhumane abandon. They make them their slaves, and the ones that won't succumb to their power, they devour, and you think I should acknowledge the few that are good?"
Fantine met Thorne's gaze with a steady resolve. "I have had encounters with vampires in the past, long before I met and married Gabriel's father. You're right, Thorne, most of them are evil, but the ones who saved me, they had kindness and compassion. That's why I can't tell you that all of them are bad, my experience won't let me."
The room fell into a tense silence, the weight of conflicting perspectives hanging in the air. Aria, sensing the need to shift the focus, broke the quietude. "So, what do we do about the vampire outside?"
"What risks do we face attacking a vampire in Blackwood?" Thorne inquired of Gabriel. "What do you mean?" Gabriel retorted. Thorne clarified, "The consequences, the blowback for taking on a vampire here." Gabriel pondered, "I can't say for sure, but drawing attention is certain, especially if we're not discreet." Thorne turned to Aria, questioning, "Can we keep it quiet?" Aria admitted, "I doubt it, but I'll do my best."
—-------
The night draped Lord Eric's castle in an ethereal cloak, shadows dancing along the stone walls. Inside, the atmosphere was tense as the two spies, sent to surveil the enigmatic strangers in Blackwood, reported to Lord Eric.
Fresh from Viktor's house, Gerard visited Lord Eric, recounting the current state of the captured werewolf in Viktor's backyard. Seated nearby, he inquired about the next steps to be taken since almost all the guards are fighting off vampires in Ipsich. With no wife or children awaiting him, Gerard lingered longer at Lord Eric's Castle, keenly observing the unfolding events with an undivided focus.
The spies, weary from their clandestine observations, presented their findings. "My Lord," one of them began, "the young man is merely a tourist, wandering the streets with no apparent agenda. However, the middle-aged man and his young companion have barely come out of the shadows since their arrival."
Lord Eric's eyes narrowed. "Where are they staying?" he demanded, his voice echoing through the dimly lit chamber.
"At Gabriel the trader's house, my Lord," came the prompt response. Gerard, though usually composed, couldn't hide the flicker of anxiety in his eyes. Lord Eric's attention turned to him briefly before focusing back on the spies.
"Where is the third spy I sent?" Lord Eric inquired, a trace of impatience in his tone.
The spies exchanged glances. "My Lord, we haven't seen him for two days. He's disappeared without a trace."
Lord Eric's brow furrowed, a mix of confusion and concern clouding his features. Before he could respond, a guard burst into the room, dragging a lifeless body behind him. "Found this in the forest during my evening patrol, my Lord," the guard reported, a somber urgency in his voice.
Lord Eric's gaze shifted from the spies to the lifeless form at his feet. His eyes widened in recognition. "This is our missing spy," he declared, his tone grave. "He definitely has been murdered, but who would do such a thing?" As the castle's torchlight flickered, casting eerie shadows, Lord Eric leaned closer to examine the corpse.
A gasp echoed in the chamber as Lord Eric made a chilling discovery. The lifeless body bore a crimson stain that seeped from the ears. "Vampire," he muttered, the word hanging in the air like an ominous specter. "There's a vampire in Blackwood."
An urgency gripped the room. Gerard, his composure momentarily shattered, exchanged a troubled glance with Lord Eric. The spies, now fully aware of the gravity of the situation, awaited further orders.
Lord Eric, fueled by a surge of determination, commanded, "Summon all available guards, everyone, including those in training. We must scour Blackwood and find this vampire before it claims more lives. Lock down the village and ensure every corner is searched. We act swiftly, and we act together."
The castle stirred with activity as the urgent commands echoed through its corridors. Lord Eric's expression, once veiled in mystery, now bore the weight of responsibility and sheer horror.