2006, 28th January

Paris, France

Lucia had chosen her prey well.

He was strong, fast, well built- the perfect prey to test herself against, and above all else, he would not be missed.

For now he was running, heart rate elevated, scent of sweat spiking the air, from nothing in particular.

Lucien had shown her the different applications of her psychic powers beyond mesmerism, where she could invoke lust, fear, rage, or even cause the already fragile perceptions of most humans to slip.

She was already getting used to inflicting fear on the prey around her- now in a more literal sense as well.

He was slowing down, his breathing growing laboured, while Lucia watched from her vantage point up high, her eyes widened to gather as much light as they could.

They watched him criss cross through the alleyways, even as others moved through them, tracking the moves of every one of them of them, as he stumbled around to a blind spot, an opening that would last exactly 3 seconds, judging from the size of the alley and his own speed that would take him around another corner- more than enough.

She dropped from above.

She let him see that much, watched his eyes widen in the split second before gravity bore her weight down on him and her fangs found his throat.

His pulse heightened, agitated by fear, then soothed as his lifeblood flowed over her waiting tongue.

She made the idle observation that her transformation must have influenced her taste buds as well, considering that blood should really not taste this good, before rationalising that obviously, she would have evolved to find her only source of nutrition appealing.

Then she let the voice of her thoughts drown, and indulged, not bothering to pull her fangs away before she felt his heart give out from the blood loss.

His death was, in fact, the most important part.

Instead of licking the wound closed, she pulled a blade from her side, and thoroughly ruined the man’s throat.

She made sure to not take her eyes off her victim’s lifeless, glassy ones through it all.

The first was Aimee, and she was the hardest, or the easiest, depending on perspective, as she hadn’t been aware while she was doing it at all.

The same could be said of Hilda, hard because of the turmoil she felt within her before cold instinct took over, or easy, paradoxically enough, precisely because of how hard she fought back.

By the third time now, she had simply… learned.

Gotten used to killing.

Having satisfied her hunger, she left the alleys, leaping back to her vantage point, and leaving through the rooftops.

Lucien kept himself busy inspecting radiological images the hospital sent him.

Lionel had secured him a comfortable job that he truthfully didn’t even need to pay his bills, one where he could work for him at his own pace.

Lucien felt the least he could do was put the most effort he could into this job.

He sensed Lucia return from wherever she had been.

Her movements were completely and eerily silent, but since he did not rely on the conventional 5 senses, he could detect her approach all the same.

It worried the old man, to see her walk a path so reminiscent of his son, who he had failed.

But he realised there was little he could do about it.

All he could do is be there if she needed him, not repeating his mistakes of the past.

But he would be lying if he said an apprehensive chill did not run down his spine every time he looked into those frigid eyes.

“Lucia. Where have you been?”

“I was testing something.”

It wasn’t that Lucien smelled the blood on her breath, for the vampire’s saliva would make sure to remove all traces of the telltale scent, but he could make an educated guess nevertheless.

“Would you mind coming out with me?”

“Where to?”

“I have some errands to run, and I wouldn’t mind the company. Or do you have someplace better to be?”

Lucia shrugged dismissively.

“Lead on, then.”

In a short while, Lucia was experiencing yet another first, standing beneath an overpass over the Canal Saint Martin, standing by the waters, tents around she watched her grandfather cook under a night sky.

The people around them gave them a wide berth, naturally, as they stuck out like sore thumbs, Lucia more so than her grandfather.

They felt her gaze track them even as she stood still like a mantis poised over them, a normally unthreatening young girl given away to the prey by her movement and her posture, their very genes embedded with the memory of what they were.

Lucien shook his head.

“When you scare a group of people for too long, they may react unpredictably. Even violently.”

Lucia, who had exerted no real conscious effort to scare them, remained unconcerned with the prospect of sudden violence.

“This was your important errand? A cookout?”

“Sometimes I like to spend time here among people who aren’t as lucky as I am. Help out, if I can. Lionel criticises me for it, that I could slip up somehow, and give away my identity if I spent too much time among these people. He even calls it masturbatory. A way to make myself feel better while affecting no real change. Perhaps he is right. But it’s a habit I’ve formed. You know how old people are with their habits.”

“What does it matter if it is only making yourself feel better? Anything could be argued to be done for that purpose. It’s better than whatever he gets up to in his spare time.”

Lucien hmmed, finally having finished his baguette stuffed with fries, and gestured to two of the children running around, who got closer, apprehensively eyeing Lucia as they drew closer, then the older boy snatched his sandwich away and retreated, while the younger one pondered it for a second with wide eyes, before holding it out to her.

Lucia shook her head.

She considered reaching out a hand, but the boy was spooked enough, and she decided any sudden moves might be a bad idea.

The lad left after his brother or friend or whoever that was.

“Must get suspicious, the fact that you never eat any of this.” Lucia remarked.

“I even treat their diseases from time to time, to the best of my ability, while most people are content to ignore them. I’m sure they’re used to my eccentricities by now.”

They spent some time idling about the canal, talking about nothing in particular- well, Lucien was more prone to the talking while his granddaughter was content to listen, and then they climbed into his hatchback, making their way back to his home.

“So? What was the point of that whole thing?”

Lucien frowned in surprise.

“Why does there have to be a point?”

“There doesn’t have to be. But there was.”

“Perhaps. Maybe it’s a good thing. Not isolating yourself from people. I already watched Lionel make that same mistake. I hope you don’t repeat it.”

Lucia was silent for the ride back home.

When they finally arrived, Lucien sat back down at his desk.

“Now I really have a bit of work to finish up before turning in for the day.”

“What happens if I sample your blood, but do not kill you?”

The old man tensed.

“What?”

“A while ago, James offered to let me sample his blood. Obviously not a desirable outcome for him if I grew to like it, and decided to drain him at some later date. My question is, why would he even give me that chance?”

Lucien dragged his chair around to face her.

“It wasn’t a chance. He was offering you an addictive agent in a lesser quantity to hook you. You already know feeding on our kind can grant you power. That feeling itself is addictive. He was taking a chance, that you wouldn’t slaughter the goose that laid the golden egg.”

“I see. A rather… unique strategy.”

“One of desperation. I suspect Lionel has several blood bags of that variety in his entourage. I doubt he cares for them much more than the dirt on the soles of his shoes.”

“He was already afraid…” Lucia pondered.

She should have seen it sooner in James, that vulnerability.

But it was irrelevant at this point.

She turned in for the day, and the next night, she was gone before Lucien awoke.

There was much to be done, and she had little idea where to begin.

Aimless wanderings through Paris would not strike her with inspiration.

She remembered that fateful encounter on that island still, the werewolf and his talk of overhauling the natural world order, putting their kind at the top.

She idly wondered if Lionel would agree with such ideas.

That the meeting had been the true purpose behind sending her there.

She found herself back at the apartment that had been given to her and James, to stay and to train.

Entering it, she was not surprised to find very little by way of personal possessions on James’ part.

Entering her room, she immediately noticed that she had not been the last person to set foot in it.

And since nothing valuable had really been rifled through, she could only assume that meant Lionel had paid the room a visit, though what purpose he could have here, she did not know.

She fished out the shotgun her father had given her, with rounds of ammunition in the bag.

Fire, he had said, one of their greatest weaknesses.

But she did not need to be carrying around a conspicuous firearm with her.

She fished the keys to black sedan parked in the lower levels, and set off.

Merely a few hours earlier, in the local Apotheosis installation, Magnus walked through the active portal, with the people in grey shooting him somewhat curious, somewhat apprehensive glances.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

As he walked out through the door, ready to hail a cab to take him to the location he had been told he was to meet his contact at, a black SUV pulled up to his side, and the window of the side rolled down.

“You are here on behalf of the Silver Moon. Come in.”

Magnus’ hackles were instantly raised looking at the man- no, the creature, inviting him in as enticingly as a spider would a fly.

This was an exceedingly dangerous thing.

He opened the door, and climbed in.

And the vehicle was off.

“My name is Lionel Bellone. I will be filling you in on your role here.”

“Wait, did you say Bellone? Lionel Bellone?”

The creature- Magnus knew him to be a vampire now- narrowed his eyes dangerously, then Magnus felt something cold and invasive tear through his thoughts.

The pain was blinding.

The pressure receded instantly and Lionel bared his fangs and lunged- an instant too late somehow, because Magnus had already opened the latch and rolled out onto the concrete below.

The look the vampire gave him as he scrambled to his feet, weaving through traffic and disappearing into the astonished crowd, was one of pure malevolent intent.

Lionel slammed the door shut, and addressed the driver in an ice cold tone.

“Take me to Lucien’s apartment.”

Lucien himself frowned as he found his granddaughter missing when he woke, but had no reason to suspect she wouldn’t come back shortly.

But when Lionel stormed through his front door, all sharp and predatory edges, he was more than a little surprised.

“I know you came back with Lucia. I know you’ve been staying with her. Where is she?”

Lucien frowned to realise his son may not necessarily be angered, but the agitation remained strong in his stance nonetheless.

“What happened? Why are you in such a rush?”

Lionel did not answer, choosing instead, to pace the corridors of the apartment cursorily, before satisfying himself that there was noone else there, and walked out the door as abruptly as he had come in.

Lucien worriedly pulled on some proper clothing, and set out into the night on his own, hoping to track his granddaughter down before his son did.

Magnus had leapt out from the vehicle a split second before Lionel’s outstretched fingers had found his throat, and done as good a job of disappearing into the crowd around them as a person of his stature and over seven feet of height could reasonably be expected to.

There had been times in the past where he had found himself overmatched in combat, but nothing came close to the horror he had felt as that vampire had lunged at him, fangs bared.

He had faced the undead before, even packs of them, and had never been disadvantaged.

But this thing was a different proposition altogether- he suspected Lionel Bellone had long since crossed the threshold of existence as something altogether more terrifying.

And Magnus was currently being hunted by that creature.

He did not know if Abas Khan had willingly sent him to an ambush; more probably, Lionel had been provoked by Magnus’ reaction to his name, specifically the implication that he might know someone that name belonged to.

And he had torn through Magnus’ mind with ferocity, even if that delay had been the only thing that had delayed the vampire enough to enable his escape.

It was likely the fact that Magnus knew a Bellone; Lucia, and judging from the way Lionel had reacted, he probably knew her too, and had found the coincidence too convenient, and had smelled a trap of some sort.

He had not been far from the Portal at the time of his escape, but he wouldn't use it, especially not when he had no invitation to wherever the main accommodations of Apotheosis were.

And on the however-slight chance that Abas had willingly sent him into a trap, he would likely be torn to pieces wherever he turned up on walking through that portal.

His stomach churned with worry and fear for Anders, who had gone to wherever Apotheosis had preserved the bodies of their comrades.

It was best if he treated him as having been held as an unwitting hostage for now; the greater likelihood was that Abas had simply executed him, not seeing any further use for him, and Magnus found that prospect too bleak to bear.

So he found himself alone, in a city where he knew no one, knew not even the local language, cornered and hunted.

He took a deep breath, bracing himself.

He would survive, even here.

Lionel paced the empty garage where the sedan he had given to Lucia for her use was missing.

In a voice low enough to be a rumble, he addressed his driver standing behind him, shifting with nerves.

“Find her.”

It was along the Quartier Bellini, with the Seine to her right, that Lucia finally ascertained that the vehicle zig-zagging along the road to keep her sedan specifically within it’s line of sight, was indeed tailing her.

Her tail soon saw her car accelerate abruptly, turning around a corner.

They compensated with a burst of speed of their own, throwing their car around the corner, only to find their quarry gone.

“What the-?”

The sedan appeared behind them, an impossible feat unless it had somehow flown across the air.

But Lucia, lacking telekinesis in her repertoire, had merely pressed the brakes down hard the instant she estimated it to be in their blind spot, timing the flow of traffic to the most minute intervals to veil herself behind another car turning the corner between their two vehicles, before weaving it around with a swift press to the pedal, appearing behind them in a feat of completely mundane misdirection.

The driver on her tail swore loudly.

“She’s noticed us!”

“Easy,” The woman seated beside him was quite a bit calmer. “We can lure her behind us to where we want her. She’s just a kid-”

“She’s that monster's kid!” The driver hissed. “She’ll crack us open!”

“She’s. Just. A. Kid”

The driver gritted his teeth and moved along, as the sedan weaved erratically behind them.

The traffic swelled around them, and soon they found the path forward blocked, angry honks surrounding them, aimed at no one in particular.

“She did this! She did this!”

The woman’s cool was slipping as her partner continued to rant.

“She’s not going to try anything when we’re in public like this. Wait for the traffic to clear and take us out.”

The traffic dragged on at a snail’s pace even though it really should have cleared up by now, as if something was sending continuous ripples through it.

“I have to cut off here.”

“Don’t cut off-”

“There’s nowhere else to go!”

The woman grudgingly remained silent, as there was indeed nowhere else to go.

The sedan did not turn to follow them, disappearing further down the road.

“Great,” The woman exhaled. “Now you can tell the boss we lost his daughter.”

The man’s face was still pale, coated with sweat, and he did not reply as he drove along.

Something flickered in his field of view.

His heart jumped up his throat, and the tires screeched as he pulled away.

The car ran aground at the vertice of the sidewalk, metal hood crumpling inwards against the cone.

“God-fucking-damn! You fucking idiot! Are you trying to get us killed?”

The woman pulled herself away from the airbag that had popped up in front of her, wearing an expression of fury.

But the driver had already clambered outside and was beginning to walk away, even as a handful of astonished bystanders looked on.

“What the hell? You’re going to wreck us and just walk away?”

The man’s footsteps only increased in pace in front of her, even as she called out to him.

Any that had gathered around remained near the car itself, and they were soon walking down an empty sidewalk, when the man disappeared around a corner.

She hastily jogged to catch up with him to keep him in her line of sight, turning the corner to come to an abrupt stop.

Only to come upon him broken, crumpled, lying on the floor, twisted at an awkward angle.

She felt her breath catch in her throat before something as unyielding as steel wrapped around her nape, pressing her face against a cold stone wall.

“I can feel your throat vibrate under my fingers. If I feel you inhale a bit too deeply to call out, I will crush it. Now, why were you following me?”

Some reptilian part of the woman’s brain had nearly rendered her unable to string entire thoughts together when she had pressed against the wall.

The cold, clinical tone however, demanded a response.

“Your.. father.” She managed in a choked tone.

“Why?”

“I don’t know. He only wanted you and that other man found so-”

“What other man?”

“Someone really tall- I… he’s blonde, dressed in military fatigues- We chose to track you… Others are after him-”

“Where are these others now?”

“I don’t know. We were supposed to meet at the underground parking later-”

Lucia turned the woman around, making eye contact and projecting her will.

“You feel guilty for having killed this man in a fit of rage after he nearly killed you both. Call the police, confess your crimes.”

So, it was that same underground parking she had visited all that time ago.

She disappeared into the shadows, unconcerned with the fate of her trackers.

They were entirely Lionel’s problem, linked to him, since she had been off the grid ever since her transformation.

She found her vehicle where she had left it, and made her way to that same parking once more.

She found it empty on arrival.

There had been a cellphone inside the man’s pocket, that she had slipped from him before his departure.

No security measures placed on it- she could easily have a look through it’s logs.

Nothing very useful beyond the physical description of their quarry- that she already had- in the message logs.

Unless she wanted to take the chance that they did catch up to whoever they were hunting, or did not, and decided to regroup here anyway, she had hit her metaphorical dead end.

Lucia, a voice whispered in her head.

She whirled, her senses registering no presence.

Lucia, the voice whispered again, and she recognised it as that of her grandfather.

“How are you doing this? Where are you?”

Stay where you are, Lucien whispered in her mind. I am on my way.

Lucia growled and shook her head as if an annoying gnat had been buzzing around her ear, ridding herself of the unwelcome intrusion in her head.

She also believed she had an inkling of how her grandfather sensed her even when she could so effectively erase herself from the five conventional senses.

She would follow that line of thought later, however; for now, she waited.

Soon, Lucien’s cherry red hatchback had pulled into the parking lot.

He scrambled out, his overcoat dishevelled, as if he had rushed out in a great hurry.

“Have you seen Lionel yet?” He asked her as soon as he stepped inside.

“No. Though I have had people tailing me on his command.”

“Where are they now?”

“I got rid of them.”

Lucien shook his head and sighed.

“At least you’re safe. We should get you away from here.”

To his surprise, Lucia was willing to leave with him with no further protest.

“Lionel’s people had arranged to meet here after completing their assignments,” Lucia explained as they were driving out. “He could arrive here at any moment.”

After a pause, she asked him. “What was that trick you used to find me and speak in my mind?”

“I can… project my consciousness. It allows me to travel much faster, though I leave my physical body behind”

“Can you do that right now?”

“Why do you want me to do that right now?”

“I need to find someone Lionel is currently looking for. Preferably before he does. Unless he can also pull this consciousness projection trick.”

“I don’t think he knows how, no.”

“I’ll take the wheel. I need you to look for this guy.”

She summarily described the appearance of the man they were to find.

“Why do you need to find him?”

“It can’t be a coincidence that Lionel is hunting him and me down on the same night. He’s connected to this somehow.”

“If you insist.”

“I do.”

Lucia took the wheel and her grandfather slumped back into his chair in an induced trance.

She had barely driven a few metres ahead when Lucien snapped back to consciousness.

“I found him.”

“Are you sure it’s the right person?”

“It’s not a person at all. I examined his aura. It’s a werewolf. You don’t see a lot of those around anymore, but there’s no mistaking one.”

A werewolf? She only knew one.

Was it Victor, come seeking revenge for the death of his protege?

Was she driving into the metaphorical lion’s den?

“Lucia, are you sure you want to do this? These creatures are extremely dangerous, and extremely temperamental.”

Lucia did not reply, shifting into the next gear and accelerating down the road.

“Where is he?”

“At the 17th Arrondissement. We’ll catch him if we hurry.”

So hurry she did, pressing the pedal down even further.

Magnus walked down the crowded streets purposefully, his senses on alert.

It seemed a good idea when a hand shot out of the crowd, blade grasped and pointed to his torso, and he caught the hand in a steely grip, feeling the ulna give way beneath his fingers, before releasing it and moving on.

His assailant fell down howling in the middle of the crowded street with no apparent cause, and the crowd very quickly gathered around him while Magnus moved on.

He was dimly aware of another vehicle tailing him on the street.

It was nearly impossible to conceal himself within the crowd; he would have to find another way to lose them.

So he very deliberately led them on, all while keeping them within his peripheral vision.

Dark alleyways and dead ends were inconveniently uncommon in this part of Paris.

Turning eastward, he found a particular gap between the buildings, shaded by a patch of trees, and sensing it was empty, he slipped inside.

He heard the vehicle come to a halt, and footsteps approaching around the corner.

He hurriedly got rid of his clothes, his skin rippling, then his form was replaced by that of a great silver white wolf.

As one of the men trailed around the corner, claws clacked against the stone below, and the man disappeared, limbs thrashing, accompanied by muffled snarls.

The other three immediately pulled their concealed weapons, rushing around the corner, when the lights completely went out.

The energy began to sap from their limbs and they struggled to remain upright.

Up high, something scraped against what sounded like a metallic surface, a noise that set them on edge.

Startled, they began to shuffle erratically, before another snarl joined the cacophony, followed by a yelp.

Then something fell from above, there was an audible thump and the darkness receded.

Magnus saw a woman clad in a shirt over jeans, her long dark hair loose over her shoulders.

There was something about her posture as she stood poised over the bodies of the men she had felled, that reminded him of an overgrown spider.

It reminded him of Lionel.

He reflexively bared his fangs, and the woman leaned forward in response, eyes shining with reflected silver light.

And Magnus finally realised who he was facing.

His skin rippled, and he was back to being human once more, albeit in a state of undress, lips smeared with crimson.

Lucia’s eyes narrowed, then widened in surprise, and she straightened up.

“Magnus.” she breathed.

“Lucia.”