The man stood and took her hand.

He led her through the crowd and towards a doorway with two sets of staircases inside, one leading up, and the other leading down. In front of the staircases, stood a massive man whose features bore a great similarity to a castle wall.

The half-elf Vero had just hired patted the castle wall on the shoulder as they passed him. The wall gave no response whatsoever, but Vero saw the telltale butterfly, this time in the form of a badge sewn onto his shirt.

In the private rooms the gaudy décor fell away, leaving only the bare termite-undermined wood behind. It was also quieter. The man led her past a few rooms; already occupied, from the sounds emerging within. The lack of soundproofing in the rooms would be troublesome, but not insurmountable.

Vero’s attack would need to be swift and definite.

Finally, they reached the end of the hall and entered the last room. It was even darker inside than at the bar downstairs. The decorations were sparse and the room was unfurnished, aside from a single small bed, and a nightstand off to the side with a candle atop it. The bed had a small tear in the side, and straw was spilling out onto the floor.

The man approached the nightstand and lit the candle, before going to the window and opening the shutter. Even with both these means to provide just a bit of light, it was still dark enough to render fine features indistinct. He sat on the edge of the bed and beckoned Vero over to him.

She did so and sat down next to him. He placed a hand against her cheek and gently directed her face towards his, bringing their eyes into contact.

Immediately, she could feel the force of the vampyre’s will attempting to batter its way into her mind. The power of this monster’s personality was greater than Fatima’s, it was obvious that he was much older and more powerful. However, she did not think he was the elder that she was looking for.

Slowly, Vero allowed the monster to worm its way inside her head, all the while compartmentalizing her mind to keep her motor control and decision making deeply hidden, bringing superfluous surface thoughts to the fore as a shield of false images. A glazed expression fell over her face, and she offered no resistance as he ran his hands all along the length of her body.

The vampyre leered his face near her neck. However, he was stymied – for the moment – by the high collar on her doublet. Then he came to a sudden realization that she was not the man he believed her to be, and stopped.

He stood up. Vero remained as she was.

“We shall have a very long discussion about just who you are, and why you’re here. But first I need to speak to a friend. Undress yourself, my heart. I won’t be a moment.”

Vero dutifully stood up from the bed and started to undo the buttons on her top. The vampyre walked past her towards the door to leave the room.

The moment his back was turned to her, Vero’s sword was in her hand.

The moment after that, she had struck. The enchanted blade snatched the creatures head from its body with a stroke.

She grabbed the now completely dead form, dragged it over to the bed, and hid it beneath the blankets. It would stand up to a cursory observation, and she hoped that no one would enter the room for a serious investigation until after she was gone.

When that was done, she went to the window. After a few moments, Dora strolled into sight, trying to look like a street walker. She had Vero’s things with her in a bag, but more importantly, Vero saw that she was wearing Fatima’s jewelry. There was no one in the alley to overhear them and Vero drew her attention with a wave to call her over.

“Do you wish me to give you your things now!?”

Vero winced at the register she spoke with, and motioned for Dora to lower her voice. “Not yet. Hand me your necklace.”

Dora’s hand went to the lapis butterfly and Vero confirmed her request with a nod. Dora took it off and tossed it up to the window. Vero pulled it from the air and placed it around her own neck.

“I believe the vampyres have a nest beneath the brothel. It may connect to the sewers, so watch them carefully. Stay nearby. If I’m not out by dawn, then tell your mother to order that the Vigil raid this place. You shall simply need to hope that they’re more competent than I was.”

“What are you going to do?” She heard genuine concern in Dora’s voice. It momentarily took her by surprise, but it was not an unwelcome one.

“I need to find where they sleep so that we may return during the day and incinerate them. Don’t be afraid, I'll be doing my best to avoid any conflict.” Dora still appeared anxious, so she added, “I’ve done this before and I think I shall come through alright. Really- there’s no need to be afraid for me.”

“Be safe, Vero.”

Vero stepped away from the window. She took a moment to compose herself.

Once she was certain that she would give no sign to cause suspicion, she returned to the hall. The murmuring in the nearby rooms were uninterrupted and she went back downstairs.

Vero held forward the pendant on her neck as she approached the bouncer. “Lucien told me to show this to you.”

The bouncer grunted and examined her as though she were something he was encountering on the underside of his boot. “Gods, what has he done that for? He hasn’t blooded you, has he?”

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His posture suggested that he did not view her as much of a threat, and she played to this assumption. She meekly assumed the confused mannerisms of freshly blooded vampyre.

“I woke up once the sun had gone down and he- he had made me like him… is that’s what you mean? I don’t think he meant to… I remember someone interrupting us together- and then nothing. He told me to go below and present myself to his master… our master… I suppose.”

“He hasn’t permission to create spawn.”

“Perhaps that’s why he didn’t come back for me. And why he’s sent me down below alone,” she responded miserably.

“What has he told you?” The bouncer leaned forward as he questioned her.

Vero recognized that that he was looking for marks on her neck. He used less subtlety than herself.

“Almost nothing,” she replied, her persona only just coming to terms with his unfortunate circumstances. “He didn’t bite me on the neck.”

“Where?”

“I could show you… I’d like to go someplace a little more private if we’re going to do that.”

Vero hoped he would agree to go someplace alone with her where she could destroy him silently, but the bouncer just grunted and waved her past him.

She went down, and down, and down. The basement was all bare stone and earth, but with lit torches affixed into the walls. There were twisting and turning hallways leading off in endless directions, but Vero could hear the sound of voices coming from only one of them. She went in that direction, trying to appear as though she had every right to be there.

She walked, taking care not to be too obvious about hiding her presence, while also being quiet enough not to announce it either. The voices, which started in a low murmur, gradually coalesced into a form that she could understand. They emanated from a chamber that lay off to the side of the hallway she followed.

“She would have told me.” A man’s voice.

“Would she? I think perhaps you overestimate her.” A woman’s.

“I created her. The blood ties her to my will.” The man again.

“Oh, she’s loyal, I have no doubt. But the blooding does not grant wisdom to a fool.” A second man, his voice was much lighter and more effete than the first.

“My lord, I tell you it is not like my Fatima to vanish in this manner. I swear to you that something has happened, and I beg you to take measures to protect yourself.” The first man once more, but his tone, which had begun combative, now held great reverence.

Then Vero heard a third man’s voice, but this one was slow and sounded very learned, perhaps even a touch aristocratic. He sounded like a man accustomed to command, and having those commands obeyed. “Jon, we take this matter very seriously. Next nightfall, if your wayward spawn has not presented herself, we shall have-” A pause, and Vero felt her heart stand still. “-Ah! But what is this? We have an unannounced visitor. Come inside where we can see you.”

There was nothing else for it. Running now would only invite a chase. Perhaps she could still bluff her way through. Vero stepped forward into the entryway.

Inside was a circular chamber, decorated as a common room, and residing there were four figures. A younger man, dressed in armor like a mercenary, and built like an ox. A middle-aged man, dressed as a noble or rich merchant. The woman looked to be in her mid-fifties, but she still dressed provocatively and was showered in jewels. She looked every bit the aging palace courtesan.

The last man was dressed in monk’s robes, he was completed by gray hair and a bushy beard and eyebrows.

There were creches in the wall which reminded Vero of a catacomb. She suspected that she had found what she was looking for. All that remained for her was to leave in good health. Vero began to run her mantras through her mind.

All four appraised her, but the woman spoke first. “I’ve not seen this lad among our coven before.”

The monk spoke, and it was evident that he was the master of the coven. “She is not of our blood; she is still among the living.”

The mercenary inspected her more closely. “She?” Vero believed this to be Jon, the one who had slain poor Fatima.

“Aye,” the monk continued. “We can smell her blood. Her heart beats, and it sings to us, and tells us her nature. Tell us child, how do you come here bearing our sign?”

Vero drained her emotion and kneeled before the elder, addressing herself solely to him. She kept her eyes downcast deferentially. “My lord, I was discovered by Lucien in the brothel upstairs, and he sent me to speak with you.”

“I see, and why is that child?”

“He discovered that I came here to hunt your coven. I hired him in disguise to destroy him, but he discovered that I was a woman and became suspicious. He questioned me, and after I told him why I was truly here, he sent me to you for judgement.”

“Of course. And did you come here alone, my child?”

“Certainly not, master. My companions felt we would be too suspicious as a group. I was tasked with finding any vampyres within, and then going outside to summon them after I had done so.”

“And, of course, if I send just a few of my men outside with you- you will point out your allies to us, yes?” The rhetorical irony in the elder’s voice told Vero that things were not proceeding to plan.

She felt the force of the vampyre mind pressing against her own with a potency that totally dwarfed the two she had faced previously. Her muscles tensed and her breathing became shallow, she bit her tongue and focused on repeating mantras in her head.

The monk bore into her with his eyes, and it became difficult just to rise to her feet.

“She’s blocking me from her mind. Grab her.”

Vero heard a footfall behind her.

She spun, pulling out her weapon as she did so.

The cocky mercenary felt the blade as it passed almost unhindered through his mail. It skirted through his torso just between his ribs, and he fell backwards howling in a mixture of pain and indignation. Vero continued her spin and threw her weight to the side, sending her sprawling through the door she had first come through, out of their immediate reach.

All attention within the room remained focused on the injured Jon, who continued to screech. Apparently, he had long ago become unaccustomed to lingering injury. Not waiting for him to finish and her foes surprise to lapse, Vero scrambled to her feet and started to sprint for the exit.

Her sword still in hand, she pressed her left palm along the edge, while chanting an arcane working over the drawn blood. As she passed one of the many branching hallways, she tossed a glob of congealed sangris vitae down one way, before continuing to run the opposite direction. Even with her limited human senses, she could smell the metallic tang in the air from the blood lure. She hoped it would be utterly overwhelming to the vampyres.

She followed the path back to the stairs up as well as she remembered it, though as she ran, Vero began to fear that she might have forgotten her way. Then she saw the light streaming down from the brothel above ground. Her heart rose, but then fell again when she saw a silhouette against the light.

The bouncer!

How could she have forgotten? He would be waiting ahead of her.

Not thinking much of her chances breaching this castle wall with a direct charge – especially with at least three more vampyres somewhere behind her – Vero turned down another way and ran as hard as she could.

She saw more than one sewer opening approaching the brothel. If the tunnels did connect to the city sewers, then she had another way out.

There was no sound of any pursuit behind her, but Vero refused to assume that was the case. She continued to press her legs onwards and her chest burned like a furnace from the exertion.

Vero ran for what felt like hours, but what was in all probability only a few minutes. The halls she took twisted and turned, and she chose several cut offs, leaving further blood lures behind to distract her pursuers.

When she felt she could go no farther, she slowed, and then stopped. Desperately, she tried to gulp down as much air as possible while remaining silent, expecting her enemies to emerge from the shadows and fall upon her.

The attack never came.

Vero realized that she had completely lost her way.