Chapter 206: Disenchanted

"I need to impress. I will be the first vampire they ever meet. I cannot use my usual polite and harmless persona or they will hunt with flawed ideas," I remark aloud.

Lafayette, whose input I value, stares at me. The short and sturdy man only gives me an impassive glance, though his heart thunders in his chest.

"Harmless persona? Ma'am?"

I tut, though I do not begrudge him this rare trait of humor.

"They shall still see me as a young woman, no matter how thoroughly they were drilled on the danger my kin represents. No, I believe I need a... grandiose introduction."

"We can set up the hotel's last floor, if you wish."

"No... No. This is still civilization. Masked power. I will meet them at the edge of the city, in a forest. The closest one. Instructor Schindler will guide them there tonight when the time has come. I will use some ice magic and, yes, I shall unseal the Aurora."

"Your armor, ma'am? Does it need unsealing?"

I consider this option. I see no downside to bringing an early winter. November is already upon the mortals anyway. They will not realize anything.

"It needs unsealing, yes. The Aurora is so powerful that its mere presence alters the weather patterns. I realized it too late to save the first harvest around Marquette. A rather costly mistake. In any case, I believe it is for the best. I shall set the scene. Then, you will bring me the actors."

"As you say, ma'am."

I only wish they do not get in trouble where I have to rescue them, or the impression might be ruined.

***

Constance's Tale

Another day being Constance in a world where constance is expected and garners no reward. We were just here for a simple negotiation at first, then it turned into a murder investigation, and now it is more. A hunt, perhaps. I could not help but feel we were being shepherded into doing something beyond our ability. It did not take a werewolf nose to smell a fish here.

I looked around to see my team and friends, the fragile group I hoped would survive this, if only because I could use some friends. I just could not help it. Jacob van Graff, competent yet so oblivious he was unpopular. Millie, like a sister to me and like all siblings, we were undergoing a bit of a temporary argument. And then there was Aramis of the strange, exotic name and the brooding manners.

I believe I fancied him a little.

We had never been close before, being in different classes and groups. He had always kept a barrier between us, but now that had come tumbling down as soon as we started working together. The loner had become a partner. It helped that he was as fetching as some dark prince. I would have to be careful.

The cad had weapons I was ill-equipped to face.

He paid attention to me, for once. Even now as we made our way through the meat packing plants, he made sure to stick to me. No one stuck to me like this before, and I was not sure what to think.

"Aramis, could I ask that you take the flank? I do not feel safe," Millie said in a whiny voice.

Aramis grunted but assented, which placed him to Millie's right and Millie to mine. Jacob stood at our back with Schindler, who once again acted as a supervisor more than a guide. I didn't like that one bit.

I liked that it left Mathias to my left even less.

Our werewolf addition gave us a firm advantage, that of having two brawny fellows instead of one, but I found him to be too sticky. Too close. It did not help that he was very warm and I could feel it on my skin even as I turned my head. It also didn't help that he was assertive and forceful. It was funny how I longed for someone to just hold me and tell me we would get out of this strange circus alive, yet when someone kept reaching for me, I found myself weirded out by his insistence.

Not like this, I supposed?

Something was wrong with my heart, to be sure.

My strange feelings notwithstanding, our visit to the meat packing plants turned out to be even more gross than the morgue had been, which I would not have believed possible. Under a morose, gray sky shedding snow as a miser sheds money, we went from factory to factory under the guise of inspectors to check for hints of abnormal activity. Our official cover was to make sure no child under fourteen were employed, as was the law. It was turning out to be a disaster. Not a single factory respected those rules. We were not supposed to actually succeed too well.

"Yeah, I'm fifteen," said a girl who could not be a day over ten.

We were finding a lot of things we were not meant to, and that was costing us time. Schindler took a list of names and addresses, ignoring the threats and supplication from harried foremen with commendable composure. As for me, I spent more time trying not to walk into too much shit that it could not be peeled off my boots as soon as we left.

The factories were pits of filth unsuited to the making of food.

Over layers of crusted offal, meat, and congealed blood, workers without any protection operated machines with speed, the knives and presses falling over dead meat, most of the time. The state of the workers' hands spoke another tale, and I promised myself here and there that I would never eat potted meat again for fear of eating human flesh. I would have been comfortable with rats, and there were already enough of those to feed all the cats of Egypt. I wanted to retch.

The squad weaved between hanging carcasses in various stages of processing to return to the exit of our current target. Yet another bust. It was true what they said, everything would be harvested but the squeals. As I turned, I caught a few glares devoid of hope and anger. The workers here were raw, used to the bone. Chemicals had eaten into their skin and their only concern was that activity might be stopped ahead of the seasonal firings, so that they would return home to feed on regret and watery gruel. This place was ripe for diseases, recruitment into crime gangs. Or socialism, I supposed. What a crap hole. I was lucky to be born a mage, or I might be working here in that line with one child and eight fingers. Many schools simply didn't teach women.

I took a breath of fresh air as soon as we were out. Carcasses were cooked over pits, so the temperatures inside went from cold as hell to hot as hell within a few steps through a stinky purgatory of human design.

"No unusual smell so far," Mathias said.

He sniffed.

"Although I will be getting a headache."

"How can you smell anything above this awful stench of scum and chemicals?" I asked with disbelief."

"My nose is... more sensitive yet less easily disgusted. I think humans have stronger reactions because you can die from indigestion. Our wolf selves do not discriminate as much. We eat raw liver with relish, you see?"

"I do. Perhaps an evolutionary bias."

"Oh, a disciple of Darwin. Well, do I gross you out?" the rake asked, looming dangerously.

"Not quite," I admitted.

"Ahem," Aramis said from the other side. "We have more factories to see. Kellogg's, near the river. It's supposed to be nicer and cleaner, so I saved it for last. We should hurry, however. Night is about to fall."

"You're a dear," Millie replies. "My nostrils need a break."

"I can use a ward to protect us from the smell?" Jacob suggests.

"No outward signs of magic when you are posing as inspectors," Professor Schindler interrupted in a bored voice.

The temperature continued to drop as we moved on through the poorest part of the city, with tenement buildings as rickety as they were full. Screaming children were shepherded back in by panicked mothers caught off guard by the unseasonal cold. As for us, we found Kelloggs' factory easily enough. It stood a little way, past a fallow field and a couple of empty log houses. My first observation was that the place looked cleaner than the rest. Not exactly an amazing achievement.

A foreman with pale blue eyes and a large mustache welcomed us warmly, in contrast with, well, absolutely everyone else so far. He walked us past rows of cooking carcasses and assembly lines casually, explaining as he went.

"The beasts get processed step by step, you see? Our employees are well-trained and well compensated to ensure Kelloggs' potted meat becomes a symbol of quality everywhere."

This here was possibly a model factory. If I were the mayor and I were to invite some committee or person of power to show the workers didn't need to be protected by law, I would bring them here. The floor was clean. Detritus was carried through sluices to the nearby river. There was even ventilation for Christ's sake. The workers wore gloves and showed none of the scars of missing pieces of flesh I had come to associate with the operation of knives. Everything was as spotless as could be, and yet, while the foreman led us deeper into the complex, I could not shake a deep sense of unease.

It was the way the workers were following us with empty eyes, hungry eyes. They were all lean and muscular, but not in the full way werewolves tend to grow. Leaner. Almost skeletal around the belly, which their overalls cinched tightly.

"Something smells wrong here," Mathias said by my side.

"Dilated pupils, inhuman constitution on all of them. Not werewolves though," Jacob whispered.

"Could they be cattle?" Aramis asked.

The foreman opened a door, leading to a refrigerated space used to store the dead animals.

"No, they are not guarding the vampire," I replied.

The foreman's ear twitched and he turned slightly. There was another door, leading to a second frozen chamber. I spotted a hint of pink skin from the glass porthole.

"Because they are wendigos. Ghouls. GHOULS!" I screamed.

The foreman turned. His face split in two under the mustache, revealing a maw filled with jagged, yellow fangs. Behind us, the workers were rushing in.

"Astra," Schindler whispered.

The foreman was grabbed and sent smashing against the far wall head first. He landed with a horrid crack.

"Close the door!" Aramis roared.

He slammed the heavy pane of steel with Mathias' help, and not a second too soon. Mutated laborers were rushing at us, slavering from their distended maws. Jacob took a moment to ward the gate to hold them but... we were trapped?

"The other door chamber," Schindler said.

We rushed forward, only to find a mirror of the previous room. This one was filled with human carcasses. Adults, children, mostly young and thin. They hung from the ceiling by butcher's hooks. The ground felt unsteady under my feet. I heard Millie retch. I tasted bile at the back of my tongue. The air was cool yet tainted, morbid and yet so stupidly clean. I hated it. I was scared. I did not want to end up hanging like a piece of flesh.

Workers stared at us, unsure what to do.

Stupid. The gig was up. They ought to know. Anger and fear overcame uncertainty.

We had to get out.

I wouldn't die like that.

Millie blinded one of the monsters while the rest of us sent offensive spells at them. Mathias grabbed the flailing one and broke her neck. One of the ghouls charged us, trailing his innards behind him with a horrific screech.

"You got to aim for the head, otherwise they won't die quickly," Schindler said between gritted teeth. We raced again, finding a warehouse at the back. Jacob immediately cast a distant ward on the way to the workshop, hoping to belay the reinforcements but I could already hear rumbling steps on top of us where offices ought to be. There were transformed ghouls barring our way. They charged.

I heard a growl.

A half wolf monstrosity exploded from behind us, taking the first two ghouls down in a whirlwind of claws and fury. A howl and a gesture bid us to run. I was scared. Would we leave him behind?

"Where can we hold them?" Aramis asked as we sent spell after spell against their ranks.

"We don't! There are more than thirty of them," Schindler hissed. "Run!"

We made to break through the still standing guards. They were falling, but not fast enough. Clawed fingers reaching for us. I had to stop them.

"Move," I screamed.

The fear spell managed to push away a few of the weaker ghouls. Millie and Jacob disabled the rest while Aramis led the charge. The heat from the nearby ovens would weaken my ice magic here. We had to leave. I heard a crash of glass as Mathis jumped. The door was so close. The few remaining ghouls barring our way fell, mangled by our efforts. Aramis sent a fireball at a wagon filled with dead pigs. They instantly burst into flame to my surprise. The fire quickly spread. A few ghouls were caught. The diversion was perfect, and I heard broken glass where Mathias was, perhaps windows?

We were almost out.

We were out, slamming the door behind us.

We raced out of the death trap and onto a deserted street. The cold weather slapped me in the face after the intolerable heat of the fire. I gasped from the shock, but there was no time. The street extended in front of us. What should we do, regroup here?

As soon as I thought that, another ghoul landed on the brick roof of the opposite side of the muddy street, atop a deserted house. There was a nest of them. Left seemed to lead out of the city. Probably good. Right? Right had an automobile roaring towards us.

The mastodon screeched when the driver hit the brakes, then its massive steel frame rammed the landing ghoul and sent it tumbling to the side, a broken wreck. The back door opened.

"Get in," a commanding voice told us.

"Go go go!" Schindler roared.

She set the factory exit on fire as the first ghoul broke a hinge. Aramis had managed to lock it by slamming a bar against the handle but it wouldn't hold for long. We jumped more than got into the car, which was moving while Aramis' legs were still out. The closest ghoul missed him by a hair, then the others were after us like a pack of demented beasts. We were all here, well, all except...

I felt my throat close but pushed back my worries. Mathias was missing. This was the real world now. I had to fight first, wonder later.

I looked around us. Millie was crammed against me in the relatively small, enclosed space. Come to think of it, the backseat was huge if it could hold four people. Wait, forget about us. Who were our rescuers?

There were two persons in front of us. One was an old man with a grim face and pale traits. Dark brown eyes under bushy brows met the stare of the second passenger, the one who had urged us in. To my surprise, a young, pretty face with cold blue eyes and golden hair peeked from under a fancy fur hat occupied the passenger seat. She was eyeing the wheel with longing.

"No one is shooting at us," the old man politely stated.

"I know. Turn right here, then stop at the end of the road."

A screech pulled my gaze back. We were pursued! Two dozen ghouls, at least. Mad with hunger. I flared my aura, ready to bombard them from the safety of the seat. The monsters were out now. They would slaughter their way through a few apartments then leave, spreading to a nearby city. Unless we stopped them here.

Which was when, again, my gaze swiveled to the front when a familiar click attracted my attention.

Now, the weapon teams of the Red Cabal mundane members trained with machine guns made by IGL, so I was familiar with most modern armaments, but the beast of a gun the woman was calmly assembling trumped anything I had ever seen be used by a human. Was she going to hunt elephants with that thing?

With a last click, she chambered a bullet from the ammunition belt.

"Now would be good," she said.

The driver veered right sharply. I was thrown against Millie. Her elbow dug into my ribs.

The woman immediately stepped out while we were still an awkward pile of limbs. She shoved her head back in a quarter of a second later.

"What are you waiting for, an invitation?"

We were out before she had finished her sentence. We positioned ourselves in a half-circle, gauntlets forward. There were too many of them. I knew this, but we had little choice. The street was a chokepoint.

It would have to do.

The first of the ghouls turned the angle as I was almost finished casting. A few spells from Millie and Schindler wounded the first runners, slowing the rest down. It was my time now.

Outside, there were no more vats. The sudden onset of winter bolstered me, funneling power in my construct.

"Grasp of the winter beast."

A wave of pure cold covered the charging ghouls in a white mist. Aramis' attack landed a moment later.

"Oppressor."

A powerful heatwave turned the mist into steam and the ghouls into white-fleshed, cooked beings. A few screamed as they died and others were sent to the ground, crawling after the loss of their legs. Oh, they were still attached, but I knew the score. They were meat still attached to barely living tissue.

The damage on the wave was devastating. And yet, I knew it wouldn't be enough. This was our most powerful attacks and the back ranks had escaped it entirely. Even now, they jumped over the corpses of their fallen brethren, rushing us with exposed yellow fangs dripping drool. I prepared myself to make them pay for —.

BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM

I was forced to the side, holding my ears in pain. Loud! Goddamn, this was so loud. What was going on?

So much smoke.

In front of us, the slowed ghouls turned into paste and red mist, taken apart by a hail of bullets. Each impact shredded a body part, leaving naught behind but mangled meat held together by bloody strings. Such was the intensity of the slaughter that even the ghouls stopped where they were, stunned by such a display of violence. The dreadful carnage lasted for only three seconds, but it felt like an eternity, and when it finished, there was nothing left but discarded limbs on pulped innards.

"Holy shit," Millie swore, unexpectedly rude.

It looked like some demented painting. Or crumpled pink wallpaper, street-sized. From far enough away.

Jesus.

"Well that's that then. Congratulations, I am off," the blonde woman declared.

She jumped back into the car, which took off at speed, leaving us all stranded between a rock and a disgusting place.

"We should move," Schindler said.

And we did. We trotted away from the horrible slaughter. I believed my friends and I all shared the same observation as we latched on anything that would erase the memory of all that human flesh. It didn't take a genius to realize who it was that had saved us.

"A weapon of that size and power wielded so casually..." I began.

"I never met her in person, but she matches the description," Jacob added.

"It can only be her. The Red Cabal's vampire founder. The Hand of the Accords," Aramis said.

Millie says what we all figured out.

"It was the legendary Boom Girl, Ariane of the Nirari. What is she doing here?"

The mystery was only growing more confusing.

***

The retreat to our hotel was swift and decisive. It was dark now, and we could not afford to be caught in the open by the killer at all. At least, the hotel room was warded. I was immensely relieved when we found Mathias waiting for us in the lobby, looking a little worse for wear.

Our hotel was an old one, and the receptionist was glaring at the disheveled man with clear disapproval but she was clearly hesitant to go out and confront him. He was clean now, and wore warm clothes. Our eyes met. He felt brittle to me, fragile, now that the layer of bravado had been peeled. It made him eminently human. And infinitely more sympathetic.

"You're alive. I was fearing the worst," I told him.

"We are glad to see you well," Aramis added immediately after, then Jacob, too, expressed his relief.

"My man, that was some awesome display. You really helped us out here."

The three men exchanged virile nods.

"Very moving, children. Let us continue upstairs, hmm?"

We had booked the upper floor suite, which had enough room for all of us provided we slept two abed, something that had not been an issue until now since Millie and I were used to it. I felt the world crashing down on my shoulders as soon as the door was locked tight. Never had a nondescript lounge felt so homey before, so comforting. So normal.

It... had been a day.

I killed a creature in combat for the first time in my life in that factory and I felt, well, empty. I looked at the others as we listlessly crashed on the faded couches. Only Instructor Schindler retained the wherewithal to check the wards, a silent figure looking over us yet letting us make mistakes.

Millie and Aramis soon leave to get changed, their clothes stained with blood. I was luckier and avoided most of the gore, so I warmed up some tea instead. Mathias was still here. He gingerly approached me while I gathered enough cups for everyone.

"I am sorry. The beast in me, it... What I am trying to say is that I could not help it. I had to leave, to protect you all."

A surge of fear and disgust at the bloodthirsty form surged through my heart, yet I pushed it aside. What a strange feeling to have. I knew about werewolves, having trained with some before. I knew the curse was incredibly difficult to manage. Besides, he had helped us escape mostly unscathed.

Shaking my head, I focused on his vulnerable gaze as he waited for a word from me. I felt strange having so much hold over someone I only just met.

"No, do not apologize. Your timely help allowed us to escape. You... you did well."

He blinked, the picture of a flabbergasted child.

"You think so? Really?"

Once more I felt a curious drive to push him away and resisted it. Were my emotions so out of control tonight that I would wound our savior with unkind words? Well, at the very least our ally? Something was wrong with me.

"We are told about your struggles at school," I try, slowly.

For a moment, I felt resistance, but then it broke.

"I do not begrudge you your nature. Thanks for your help."

"Ah, I am touched. I do not know what to say. Our leader, Quill, says that outsiders will never understand us. I really thought you...Well, nevermind."

"You know, the Red Cabal offers a safe place for people like you. And your sister. I mean, you seem happy enough here..." I hazarded.

Suddenly, Mathias is very close, so close I feel the warmth of his presence.

"Is it Constance the recruiter, or Constance the friend speaking?"

"The friend," I reply, then because I feel like I put a foot in quicksand, "but just the friend. We are not that well accustomed, as I am sure you have realized."

"I have realized enough. Watch how someone acts in a crisis and you get their measure, our mother would have said. You acted like everything I was hoping for."

I pushed him away, firmly, because the pain in his eyes might make me falter. I did not know Mathias, not meaningfully. I would not succumb to my basic need for company, not if I was going to be hurt again. Especially not with Millie growing distant and catty.

"You are going too fast and I am not convinced. I am sorry."

Mathias took a step back, defeated.

"I should go. I will run back to our compound through public streets, not to worry."

He was out before I could utter a word. I saw Instructor Schindler walk by, inspecting our windows and wondered if she had heard. If she had, she did not say a word.

I felt guilty. I had given him hope and hurt him afterward. Maybe it would have been a mercy to tell him werewolves scared me. Then he could have blamed me, not himself.

Or perhaps I could stop trying to care about how others felt when I hurt so much myself. No, I had to be strong. Not let the others see my loneliness. I could accept indifference but not pity. Never pity.

Out of ideas, I returned back to our room to the side. Millie should have been done by now.

To my surprise, I heard Aramis' voice coming from my room.

"What is it you wanted to say?" he asked in a tired voice.

I stumbled, then stumbled again when Millie spoke next.

"She doesn't love you. She wants the werewolf. Forget her, because I do love you more than anything."

"What?"

I entered the room, only to see the pair kissing. Well, it was more Millie dragging Aramis down by the collar and reaching up. He even let out a little gasp of surprise. Nevertheless, he did not move.

Millie and I exchanged a glare. Hers was triumphant, tinted with fear and hatred. I had never seen such an expression on her face.

It hurt.

It hurt even more coming from her, and it hurt now, while we were vulnerable.

I wanted to hide and cry and just forget about everything, but I could not. We had to leave and visit the Red Cabal's vampire contact the very same night, despite the risk. I could not face going out again and yet we had little choice.

I did not know what to do.

I really didn't think Millie could be so foolish.

"Why?" I ask her as she runs by.

"Because..."

For a moment, her expression breaks and I see the little crybaby I used to protect from bully boys.

"Because I want to be happy as well!" she sobbed, fleeing.

I do not know what to say.

"This isn't what it looks like," Aramis begged.

He looked mortified. Again, I felt a foreign pull telling me to be angry, to lash at him for courting both my friend and I. Again, I pushed it away. What a ridiculous notion. Millie set this up, and as to why, it did not take a genius to figure out. The heart had its reasons that reason could not grasp, as they say.

"Really? It looks to me that Millie finally snapped. I apologize on her behalf. She is not herself. Although, she will have to apologize to me first, the little minx. Ugh. What is wrong with everybody tonight?"

"You... you believe me?"

Aramis blinked owlishly, the pull breaking.

"Well yes. I have never seen anyone so reluctant to kiss before in my whole life. You looked like a drenched cat."

"Constance I... I wish you hadn't seen me like this, no matter what. I should have pushed her away, I should..."

"Don't take responsibility for idiots or you'll be apologizing all day. I got it. The blood, it's making all of us stressed out. I think... we were not ready for the hunt, for tonight. The dead... Well, I'm sure Schindler will call it in. All those bodies..."

"Yes, it was horrible. And yet we have to go," he said.

"And yet we will go," I agreed. "And solve this emotional mess later. I don't want to open now or I'll crack. I... I hope you can understand."

"I'm more than happy to... spend more time together, after we are done here," Aramis agreed.

He reached for my hand, gave me a squeeze that sent shivers down my spine. His fingers were calloused yet his grasp was tender. I think I liked it. I moved my hand to my heart before I realized it.

"Yes. When we head back. For now, focus, or we might die yet," I told him.

"Good."

Aramis nodded. I waited for a few seconds before needling him on.

"Aramis."

"What?"

"You're in my room. Get out, I need to get changed."

"Oh! Sorry."

***

The carriage dropped us at the edge of town, in a marshy area on the shore of the River White. The sudden winter that gripped the earth had taken everyone by surprise, and those who could headed home early. I did not share that I saw an emaciated woman leaning against a wall in the distance, the snow sticking to her alabaster skin. She had been too unprepared. There were few fates left in store when the fires of progress left someone behind. Death was not even the most cruel one.

The others shivered despite their warm clothes, though I did not. The air here felt good, pure after the horrid stench of the meat plant. Almost otherworldly. The layer of grime that turned the city's ice gray and pokemarked after only a few hours failed to take hold here. A merciless wind caressed my hair. It refreshed my mind after the ordeal of the past few days.

We followed a path through the naked trees. Soon, whatever electric light could still be seen faded in the distance. A series of strange, magical lanterns cast a purple glare on the path. A light wind caressed the glittery branch and made them clink like chimes. I felt smothered yet protected here, in this land of pure winter. I did not wait for the others. I followed the path where it would lead, pulled forward by some strange call. I knew they were following from the sound. Above us, there were no stars. I could not even spot the clouds. There was just an endless abyss.

The wind died.

I was the first to see light dancing furtively between the dark trees, then we saw more. Enchanted lights in bulbs and glass containers radiated in cold hues around a frozen clearing. Purples, blues, and whites mirrored by hanging icicles shone like candelabras over a lone court lost to the world. No sound penetrated this place. The silence, besides us, was absolute.

We approached and took notice of this open-sky room's only occupant.

Sitting atop a throne of ice, the woman wore an armor of deep cobalt that felt grown more than forged out of a shining star inserted in the chest plate. Delicate patterns on vortices and sharp angles decorated its surface, the deeper parts hypnotizing yet still like the surface of a lake. Strands of smooth blonde hair rested on it, falling free from under an impressive helm. Eyes like blue fire looked at us as we entered softly, reverently.

This impression lasted for a few seconds, but then it broke like a flimsy mirror.

This was Ariane of the Nirari, one of our sponsors. The woman we'd seen in the car earlier, just presented differently. A part of me resisted the pull of some force that would twist my perception. A quick glance backward revealed that the others were not so fortunate. Their gazes were filled with fear and stars. I did not understand.

"You have come," the woman said in a soft voice that nevertheless carried. "Speak your request."

Seeing that the others were silent for now, I decided to take the initiative. I still was not sure if I should be transfixed like them and the problem lay with me, or if their fascination was misplaced and the problem lay with them. It was puzzling. And frustrating.

"We would like your assistance in slaying the vampire who has been killing in Indianapolis," I said.

"And what have you learned so far?" she asked.

"That they are a rogue, a young one."

A nod urges me on. This is a test as well, and I am ready. I must defend our ability, show that we were able to glean much despite the unusual circumstances.

"They are a rogue because they failed to hide their traces after a violent feeding. If they meant to send a message, they would not have ripped the throat of every victim to hide the fang mark. If they meant to frame a faction, they would not have attacked the werewolves as well. Or at least, not so soon. A sane vampire would have already moved on after being so blatant, I think. As for their age, rogues typically go on a rampage when they start, but this one did not. In fact, they picked isolated targets that were safer to kill. A feeding might have sufficed to make them sleepy. Hence why I think it is a young one. There are other signs, like believing ripping the throat would be enough to confuse a determined detective. Finally..."

"Yes?"

"Finally, you would not let us go after a master."

She smiled under the helmet.

"Good. Your educated guesses are correct. Now, what do you wish?"

"Please help us kill it?" I asked, thinking it was obvious.

"You will finish the hunt you started."

"Then at least help us find it?"

Another smile. She leaned forward on her throne. A strange glass contraption appeared in her hand. It floated through the air to me.

I picked it up. It is cold but not unreasonably so. I saw a captive compass within the sphere with a single drop of black blood held in magical stasis to prevent it from degrading to ash. It was a very expensive yet temporary construct that required the essence of its victim. That could only mean one thing.

"You found the vampire? You found and touched it? And you left?"

"Yes," she simply replied.

My voice died in my throat with a simple gesture, smothering my anger before it could even begin.

"I care not about the local powers. I would sacrifice them all if it meant gaining a competent team to deploy against the true threats of this world. We do not operate on the same scale, you and I, and lastly, remember this. We vampires defend the world as we see fit. You can give us lessons when you no longer need us."

Oh, so annoying, playing all high and mighty. Is the purpose of all those lessons not to teach us how to stop monsters? Would the hunt be different if Lucy or Ichabod were still breathing? It all sounded like excuses to me. Excuses by someone who simply didn't care. And yet, I gritted my teeth, not because she sat on that fancy throne but because the point she'd made was unfortunately correct. The weak and isolated may not speak up or they would be pushed down while the mighty did as they pleased. It had always been the way my world worked, from child disputes to arguments. This was no different.

"Good, then you may go on your way. I will be watching your progress with interest."

I almost turned here and then, pushed by the others quietly retreating, but I decided to stand my ground. There was still something I wanted to know, and since it concerned me directly, I would at least ask, even if I may receive no answers.

***

Ariane's Tale.

It has all gone terribly. I can feel it.

"There is something you are not telling us," Constance says. "And you too, Miss Schindler. Something's wrong."

Although the others are too terrified or at least polite to stop, Constance stares defiantly.

"The Hand of the Accords and Red Cabal's main financial backer doesn't just show up to shadow a squad. I won't believe it. And I don't buy that talk about training us. No sane leader would send a squad of untested green blood, which is what we are, I'm not ashamed to say, against a vampire. Rogue and isolated or not. Especially if you have veterans on hand and don't tell me you're here alone. Established vampires never travel alone. We've been taught to remember that time and time again. You are hiding something from us, something major. I think it's fair for us to know since our lives are at stake. No? Does that not make sense?"

Constance stops to catch her breath. Then, she turns on her instructor.

"And you, you knew from the start that there was more to this hunt than this."

"Of course, I did, but I'm not the one being evaluated. You are."

"For what? No squad faces those odds. It's plain ridiculous."

"May we have a word alone, the girl and I?" I ask softly.

The rest of the squad is more than eager to grant us privacy. They retreat to a far side of the clearing where Aramis immediately starts a fire from wet wood and a considerable amount of power. The group huddles around it like moths to, well, a flame.

Only Constance appears unbothered by the glacial temperature.

Well, I suppose I should be honest. It would not do to lie to my potential servant. I can feel our connection, the thread of fate, yet she is different from any Vassal I ever had before. No snark, no righteous instincts. Just a keen intellect backed by blunt honesty. She feels sharpened to an edge and... not what I expected.

"The truth is that I am training you for a specific purpose."

"Question," she retorts, "did you know where the vampire was since you arrived here?"

"...yes?"

"And you didn't see it fit to stop them from killing? Chase them off?"

"As I said, I won't be here to save and protect you every time. You are responsible for the hunt."

"But you did save us when we were at risk of being overwhelmed."

"I consider the Red Cabal part of my alliance, so yes, I'd take an extra step to save them."

"Save them... you..."

A flash of realization stills her face.

"You meant to train me? Not the squad, me?"

"Yes. You specifically."

"Why?"

And here we go.

"I believe you are meant to be my Servant, my bonded pair. The mortal side of the coin."

Constance glares at that. I was hoping for more. I wished I had time for a better delivery. The situation is slipping from my fingers and I do not know why, or how. I can see her emotions and yet a strange barrier prevents me from understanding them. Perhaps it has been too long since I last had a vassal?

She is pushing me away. The strands of fate are being undone before my very eyes.

"Me? You don't know me. I'm just a nobody."

"You are not a nobody. I have been watching over you since your birth."

"No fucking way."

"Language! And yes, very much way."

"You have been watching over me since my birth? My birth? Almost two decades ago?"

"Yes."

Pained rage twists her traits. She balls her fists and takes a few angry steps forward.

"And you didn't see it fit to tell me at any point?" she demands. "During that entire time?"

"I... human children are..."

"Eighteen years?" she screams.

"I..."

"And you didn't talk to me once? One fucking time?"

I watch her pace in silence. Blue streaks lash out from her aura, turning the snow to crystal and the soil to permafrost. This is getting worse and worse. I am swallowed in the hurricane of her fury.

"Do you have any idea, do you have any notion what it would have meant to me if you'd just told me someone, anyone, just one person cared that I was here? Do you know how much it would have meant to know I was wanted, even by a single person? Looked after by someone? Do you know, what it means, to matter? Even a little? Just one fucking word. One word. Just one single sentence. That would have been enough to make a difference. Human children? Do you think human children are complicated or what, you mighty vampire? Huh?"

"I... find it difficult. To relate."

"I find it difficult to grow as an orphan only to discover I spent eighteen years thinking I was unwanted and someone just stood there and said nothing. I would have been even ok with you missing my fucking birthdays, you understand? I just wanted to know! Why even keep silent? How much effort would it have taken to spend a few minutes with me while we all know you are based in the same damn city!"

She stomps away, clad in roaring winds. Branches crack overhead from exploding sap. She whirls around.

"My birth. Since my birth. So you know who my parents are."

"Yes."

"Are they even alive?"

The truth. The truth must be told. She is not a Vassal yet, but the truth must be told. My essence will not tolerate hypocrisy at this junction.

"... yes, both of them."

"I... I just..."

She throws her hands in the air, then sprints away, into the forest.

Well.

Shit.

It has all gone bad. This is a bit of a humbling experience, I should think. None of the planning and theatrics matter because, in the end, I have been sowing the seeds of my failures since the girl's birth. What she said was right. I was sloppy. I have been so focused on gaining power to face Nirari that I forgot a Servant is a human first and a tool second. Oh, I have no doubt the lack of Vassals had a role to play in my carelessness, but I am not stupid. I should have known better. I was just so busy, busy with every small operation, with details. I lost sight of what mattered.

The Hand forgot the heart.

I suppose the time has come to fix my mistakes. If she will let me.