~1937~

Claire did eventually re-open Raven’s Loft after a month or so, returning Kirielle and Lyka to their rightful places onstage. However, with the nation in the grips of the Great Depression, business at a club such as Claire’s was slow, to say the least.

By 1934, Kirielle had finally moved out on her own, more or less. Of course, there was no way Lucian would let her leave the nest without having someone to look after her during the day, as all their kind so desperately needed. So Kirielle took Lucian’s beautiful young assistant, Connor, with her when she left, easily replacing the bond he had to Lucian with a bond to her instead. And of course, Lucian had long since replaced Reeve with another young doctor to run his medical practice during Lucian’s ‘off hours,’ so to speak.

And by 1937 Claire was once again dividing her attentions between the club, Sean, Lucian, and even Lyka, who had also grown quite close to her over the years since joining their household. Though, with the downswing in business that the Depression brought with it, that did free up a bit more of Claire’s time for socializing.

Lucian was the one who had garnered Claire’s attention on this particularly misty spring evening. They had started their night with a drink at the fairly empty club, followed by a carriage ride through the park. This was then followed by Lucian suggesting that they have a romantic walk through one of the most beautiful cemeteries at the edge of the city, if such a thing could be said about a cemetery. Then again, due to their very nature, neither of them generally adhered to the ideas of romance held by the mortal world anyway.

Back at the club, Lyka and Kirielle were backstage getting ready for their next number. They startled slightly as the dressing room’s emergency exit burst open. With a look of desperation in his dark eyes, a tall, young dark haired man stepped inside. He searched the room with purpose, his eyes falling on Lyka and Kirielle.

“You, I need both of you, now,” he told them breathlessly, his French accent apparent as he spoke.

“Do I... know you?” Kirielle asked, as Lyka just looked understandably shocked by his sudden appearance as well as his words.

“We did meet, once, when you were only a child,” he breathed, “but that’s not what’s important right now. Right now Claire needs you.” His desperate tone made it clear that he believed his words with every fiber of his being.

“Claire?” Lyka asked with a visible wave of worry.

“Now,” he told them. With no further words, he moved toward them, clasping a hand over each of their arms. All three of them then suddenly disappeared from sight amidst the chaos of the other performers thankfully distracted by their own preparations for the next part of the show.

As Claire and Lucian passed by a particularly beautiful mausoleum that night, he suddenly stopped and turned to look down at her with what seemed to be pure anguish in his dark eyes.

“Lucian?” she asked worriedly, easily noting his expression.

“I’m so, so very sorry Claire, but it’s my daughter,” he whispered with red tears in his eyes before he sped away in a flash of motion with no other explanation given.

Seconds later, Lucian arrived at a cemetery gate that had been previously agreed on. There Awsha waited, firmly gripping the arm of the young girl who still appeared no older than the thirteen years of age she was when Lucian had last seen her, seven decades earlier.

Upon seeing how gaunt she was, as well as all that fear, and pain in her dark, haunted eyes, which matched his perfectly, Lucian could no longer hold back those tears that had already begun when he had spoken to Claire.

“Enjoy,” Awsha told him with a snide grin before she sped away in the same flash of motion.

“Oh, Lenore, my little love,” he sobbed as he moved to embrace her for the first time since his death.

Only, as his arms encircled the young girl, she brought her hands up from behind her back. In the same moment, he felt the sharp wooden stake pierce his heart as he fell to the ground at her feet, his body stiffening in rigor as it should have done those seventy years earlier.

Back inside the cemetery, Claire gasped as Lucian had sped away leaving her with those ominous words. Before even having a moment to process them, Claire’s attention was redirected to the door of the mausoleum they had stopped near.

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A man and woman stepped out of the mausoleum, both centering nearly black eyes on Claire. Claire recognized neither of them on sight as she looked between them warily.

The woman was somehow even more voluptuous than Awsha, though there was no way for Claire to discern anything else about her true identity. She was dressed in a long, black, hooded cloak as well as a matching scarf pulled over her face. The only part of her that was even visible were those dark eyes and the sliver of skin around them that was just as pale as Claire’s own.

The man towered above the mystery woman as well as Claire, as they each took a step closer to her. He was dressed in a crisp black suit jacket and matching trousers, both appearing to have been personally tailored for him. His hair fell all the way to his waist in black waves with the occasional white streaks throughout.

Just as Claire adjusted her vision, trying to read their auras as best she could, she was then distracted again as all the shadows surrounding her there in the cemetery that night seemed to shimmer and almost begin to move around her. Before her worried eyes, those very shadows formed themselves into thick black tentacles of sorts. And those shadow tentacles rushed towards her, wrapping themselves painfully around feet, and crawling upwards over her legs.

With a gasp of fear, Claire struggled to break free of those now living shadows. Though even her supernatural strength seemed no match for them. The man graced her with an amused smirk at the sight of her fear and her futile struggles.

He then stepped in close to Claire, causing another gasp of fear from her as those shadows continued to painfully bite into her legs, holding her there in place.

“Hello, Claire,” he greeted her with an eerie calm to his voice as he watched her struggles.

Trying to gather her wits about her as best she could, despite the pain and fear that she was being bombarded with, Claire forced herself to look up into his eyes. Mustering every bit of strength and will, she looked into those pools of near black and spoke in that tone that imposed her will on others so easily.

“Leave me be,” she ordered him.

His only response was to laugh down at her with sincere amusement, which caused her to swallow a whimper at the realization that she had no such power over him. “Surely you’ve figured out who I am by now. And you should know, little one, that you are nowhere near powerful enough for that to work on me,” he told her with another smile as he stepped even closer to her then.

Her next whimper was harder to hide as that realization did hit her, along with all those myriad years of fearing this moment; this snake. With another sadistic smile, he reached up to place his hands over her shoulders as the shadows continued to hold her in place. His touch was almost gentle, though the contact itself burnt like fire. As he trailed his hands down her trembling arms, Claire couldn’t fight the sudden pain that felt like she was now being devoured from the very inside.

That was when Awsha appeared in a flash of motion to join them, “You started without me?” she asked with an annoyed pout as she looked between the hooded woman and her master. “Well at least I still get to see her die. Unless of course, you finally decided to let me do the honors,” she told him hopefully.

Finally moving his hands from Claire, he turned back to the other two women. As he did so, Claire fell to the ground as more agonizing pain tore through every part of her.

“It’s already done,” Baron stated simply. “Only, her death will be long, and excruciating.” He couldn’t help another fanged grin, “Even more excruciating than a century of listening to you whine abou--”

His words were cut short by a flash of light that illuminated the entire graveyard. Appearing before them now was Eliot, Kirielle and Lyka. Eliot’s and Lyka’s eyes immediately snapped to where Claire was on the ground, writhing as another wave of agony engulfed her. His dark eyes flaring, Eliot waved his arm in a sweeping gesture as Baron, Awsha, and the mystery women suddenly went flying backwards a good hundred feet.

Ignoring the rage in Baron’s eyes as the three of them got to their feet, Eliot and Lyka both rushed to Claire’s side as Kirielle took in the whole scene there that night with eyes full of confusion.

Upon reaching Claire, he cast his eyes back to where Kirielle stood ten or so feet away still, “Distract them. We’ll be safe,” he stated with conviction before making another pointed gesture with his hands. And in that moment a dome of pure energy appeared around he, Claire, and Lyka.

Kirielle swallowed hard at the sight of the dome appearing around them. But her blue eyes were quickly drawn back to where the three others were now back on their feet, their hatred filled eyes moving to the four of them once more.

Without wasting another moment, Kirielle raised her voice in some eerie, piercing melody that immediately caused the others to clutch their ears as they doubled over in agony at the sound produced by her siren’s call. Inside the dome, Kirielle’s allies did indeed seem unaffected by her painfully deafening tune.

Eliot was once again making more deliberate gestures while tossing Kirielle a quick, pointed nod to quickly come into the dome with them, which she rushed to do. Meanwhile, Lyka was sobbing as she held Claire close to her, as if trying to chase Claire’s pain away with only her embrace.

Eliot’s breaths were quick and heavy as he continued to cast, whilst the other three were quickly making their way back toward them, anger in their eyes. A moment later, the hands on Eliot’s pendant watch began quickly spinning forward and the dome filled with a heavy black smoke-like substance, obscuring any light from reaching those inside it. The hands of the watch continued to spin as his breaths continued shakily.

Outside the dome, the sun very slowly started peaking over the horizon, despite the fact that it had been just past ten pm when Claire’s and Lucian’s “date” had ended. Though, Eliot’s watch now showed that the hour was somehow well past five am instead.