Made in Death's Image 02

"Maybe that is why." Ceil paused, "Isolate her. Make her vulnerable for whatever they might need?"

"A very Codrin-like tactic?" Michael said worried.

She frowned, "Clearly, this is a long game they're playing right now. But if they wanted to flat out kill Grace, why waste the effort?"

"Because they need something from her," he said softly.

Ceil nodded slowly before sighing, "Michael about last night. Did you reach out to Grace?"

"Yes," he breathed, "I tried but she was hanging up on me. I don't know where she is and if she is in danger I can't help her?"

The hunter paused before she grinned, "I may have an idea."

"Oh?"

"Have you ever heard of scurrying?" Ceil asked.

He shook his head, "What is it?"

"Let's just say, this vampire shouldn't have messed with someone whose friends are witches," Ceil replied, smirking, "Come on. Let's take a trip to Tartarus."

He stood with a frown, "It's safe?"

"Yes. Currently, vampires are banned from the place, but it is still fully functioning and with higher security measures. I have a sun witch friend there, Lariah, she can find this bitch, wherever she's hiding."

Michael hesitated, briefly thinking about Grace. He wanted to call her again but he still didn't have his phone on him and this needed to be done. So with a heavy sigh he nodded, following after Ceil, on his first hunter mission whether he knew it or not.

FIFTEEN

"Zara," he said, "Come. We are wanted in the ballroom."

Zara turned, looking over at Codrin. It was 1950, winter had just hit over the island where Codrin was holding his half-century ball. Every fifty years he invites the noble vampires to come and spend a bloody evening with their king and they do, all fighting for his affection and favor. Codrin was the most powerful vampire after Vlad Dragulia's death in 1893. Normally Codrin's pet would spend the night with him but this year Codrin demanded the company of both Zara and Grace.

Grace wore an elegant red gown made of the richest silk and dyed by the blood of fifty virgins or so the story Codrin told. Zara was dressed in a black gown, soaked in the world's oldest ink. Despite the very rich gowns, it was still clear which pet was his favorite. When they flowed down the hall, Grace walked beside him, his meaty hand on the small of her back. Zara however, was instructed to walk a meter behind Grace. It filled her with rage. It made her feel like a human again having to deal with all the discrimination. Codrin might've not cared for the same petty differences as humans but he still possessed that noxious elitism.

Zara despised him, and she did because of his weakness. The vampire lord was meant to be strong and fearless, and yet his affection for Grace was pathetic a chink in his armor. Codrin loved her in a paternal and sexual way. It was utterly repugnant. He murdered any eyes that lingered on her too long, he stole all of her attention, and demanded that she love him back. When she didn't he made a bird cage to keep her in. Zara believed she'd be a better ruler because she was not so weak, and yet she was stuck as an afterthought. She wanted a new world she could be on top of and saw the old world as needing to be burned away with no room for weak cowards.

"Pet, take your place on my lap," he ordered, sitting on his throne.

Grace obeyed, sitting on his lap and Zara stood behind the throne. The night went on, he had the best musicians playing and had the finest humans tied and offered. The vampires fight for Codrin's attention, bringing him and Grace gifts to woo their most powerful lord.

Zara got no gifts, but Codrin did get offers for her.

He simply laughed, "Zara is not for sale."

No one asked again and Zara pondered why he wouldn't just sell her off. Then it clicked--she was turned to make Grace jealous. To keep Grace in check. It was pathetic. The vampire king was utterly evil to her. Her existence of being a vampire was laughable and she vowed one day Codrin would turn her just to be a prop for his obsession.

******

"Zara?"

She blinked, looking over at the masked man, "What?"

"Watch the tone," he growled, "Alatar has sent the newest batch over. It is time to act. You tie up the loose ends here, I will move forward into our next phase. Do you understand?"

She nodded quickly. The gold masked vampire revealed himself. He was a russian man with strong russian features frozen in time of a 27 year old man. His eyes an icy blue and his brow strong.

"Good luck Pavel," she breathed.

The other vampire raised his brow, "Save that luck for yourself. You'll need it for two hunters."

Then he turned and was gone. She sighed deeply, moving across the penthouse to pour herself a glass of whiskey. Her face was towards the bright lights of the city and for a moment something small inside Zara sparked. She thought about her past, and then about the present and for a moment she wondered if her actions were the right ones. Then her phone went off, her eyes flickering down to the screen and they hardened.

Incoming call.

Grace.

"Tomorrow I will be a step closer to a lord," she whispered, clenching her fist, "A-And Pavel will get his wish; revenge. I'm tired of these creatures throwing stones in the dirt."

And so, slowly, the day set with tomorrow in the short distance.

SIXTEEN

Michael and Ceil stood in the large oak arch of the Tartarus. In front of them, all the booth's were gone, very few supernatural beings lingered around. At the door Nyx, in her child form. Her eyes looked over them as they entered, and Michael held his breath. As the child's eyes sat on him, such a cold intent filled him. His eyes dropped from her face and to the floor, sweat clinging to his body. He felt pure rage from the child, as if a simple look would render him dead, and still, even after his gaze dropped, her wrath clung to him.

"Come on, we need to find Lariah," Ceil said, completely oblivious to Nyx's brewing anger, "She should be in the back rooms, growing plants."

Michael tore his gaze to meet Ceil's as they walked briskly, "Plants?"

"She said it'll help her cope."

He chewed at his lip, following behind Ceil as she led him out of the larger room and down the dirt tunnels. He winced, no light in the tunnels. Gone was a playful, underground market and in its place ghosts of itself. It was like an inversion of the wonder he felt with Grace when they first came here. Before her lie came to pass.

"God," Michael commented in a gentle tone, "what happened here?"

Ceil sighed somberly, "It was bad Michael, real bad."

"Then let's get this bitch who did this."

She smirked, "That's the plan."

The two grew quiet, and eventually the two broke free of the dark tunnel and into a large cave that was bright with light. Michael gasped, his eyes wide. The cave was a jungle, with glowing moss and bright flowers. Plants of all kinds, and even strange insects fluttering about.

It was beautiful.

"Lariah?" Ceil called into the deep, cave forest.

A moment passed then a familiar woman stepped out of the forestry. Michael's eyes widened. She dressed in a long white gown that was stained with what seemed dark red, and dirt. Around her eyes dark smudges, and in her fair locks, more smudges of black ash. Her eyes flickered from Ceil then over to Michael before a clear scowl tugged on her face.

"Why are you here fang banger?" she demanded.

Ceil sighed, "He's with me Lari. We need you to find someone."

"I can't right now Ceil," she snapped, "I'm so busy here burying the dead."

"We think it's the person who attacked Tartarus," Ceil said simply.

Lariah's face hardened, "What do you need from me? We all know it was Grace."

"Believe it or not it wasn't. Grace was set up because they came after Michael to push her away."

Lariah couldn't believe what she was hearing but had no reason to not trust Ceil. Ceil left Michael's side before moving to sit on the grassy cave ground. He hesitated before following suit. As he did, Lariah came back with a map of New York, a bunch of candles and an apple seed. She sat down elegantly, placing the map between her and Ceil. Michael watched silently as the two interacted.

With the map on the ground, Lariah placed the unlit candles on either side of the map before placing the seed under the map. The two women then looked at each other before their hands held each other's-Ceil's wrapped tightly around Lariah's own pale fingers.

"From the sun's embrace," Lariah chanted, "to his divine affection. Warrior's embrace, petals rooted and teeth turned to ash. Flames to burn, passion and rage to dance. We ask for your guidance, and your fury. Light our way."

"From the moon's embrace," Ceil then took over, "to her divine love. Give us knowledge, lend us strength so that we may find those we seek. Bless be, and bless be again."

His eyes widened as their hands glowed faintly, then the map began to quiver. Through the map, the seed seemed to take root, tiny white roots springing across the map, before circling around the thin paper. Michael peered forward, squinting his eyes as a little sprout bloomed up from one point in the map.

"W-Wall street," Ceil panting softly.

Lariah pulled away and stood, "You've got your answers. Your proximity to the vampire revealed them."

The two watched her disappear back into the jungle cave, leaving Ceil and Michael alone. Michael watched Ceil carefully, noticing how the faint blue didn't disappear from her skin. She glanced over at him, a cruel smirk on her face.

"Now you know my secret," she whispered.

He blinked, realizing what had happened, "Y-you're a witch?"

"Half," she replied, standing up, "Come on, let's go."

Michael nodded slowly, following after her wondering why that would be such a secret, "H-how are you a witch?"

Ceil spun on her heel, grabbing him by the arm, annoyance and panic flashing in her eyes as she hissed, "I am a hunter. I am also a witch. But I can't be both, so outside of this place I am only a Hunter. Only Lariah and Nyx know my truth, and now you. Please understand if people knew the truth, it would destroy my life and family and I would be hunted for my rare skills and abilities. Halflings are few and rare, and they're always hunted down for advantages they could provide to the most zealous of our kind."

Michael swallowed a lump in his throat, "A-are you still talking about yourself?"

"No," she replied slowly, softly as she let him go, "You should end your relationship with Grace after this. It will only cause sadness and chaos. You will die, and maybe even Grace."

He turned away, looking back down at the map.

"Wall street huh?"

She nodded, "Wall street."

SEVENTEEN

Grace paced back and forth, her long black and lace dress swept across the floor of the throne room. In her hand, her iPhone which had a long crack down the front. She had been looking at Michael's photo in her contact. Then she called but , with no response as it rang out, then she tried calling Zara again. Grace snarled angrily, whipping her phone across the room. It shattered upon impact with the stone wall, glass pieces sprinkling down like freshly fallen snow.

"Do you need another?" A hidden person appeared behind her.

Grace spun to face the woman, "What?"

"Another phone my lord," the hidden replied, "Do you need a replacement?"

"No," she grunted, shaking her head, "I don't need another phone, I need people to pick up their phone! I pushed Michaela way and now I'm starting to realize something else is going on. God only knows what's happening, where the hell that snake Zara is."

One of the Hidden entered. She was young. Probably younger than Grace was when she was turned at 20 years old. It reached her stomach to see such a young vampire. A woman who couldn't even choose between life or death when Codrin found her.

"M-my lord," the Hidden then stuttered.

Grace blinked, finding her face oddly wet. Her gaze dropped for a moment, and embedded in the stomach of her loyal Hidden was a long spear. Her blood splattered across Grace's face. She dropped, and Grace spun on her heels, her eyes widened. Upon the window sill was a figure dressed in a long black cloak and on his face, a gold mask.

"Who dares bring violence in my hall?!" Grace commanded.

The figure stood from his spot, before jumping down into the room. Grace tensed as the figure approached, but he didn't attack her. Instead, he simply walked past her and grasped onto the long spear. Yanking it free of the Hidden's body now turned into bloody sinew, he then turned, walking towards the throne. Grace's eyes narrowed and she grabbed him by the arm. The figure froze.

"Who are you?" she demanded, digging her claws into his sleeve, "And what would a masked assassin want? Or are you some nobody thinking he could possibly be somebody?"

The figure didn't move.

So Grace did. Letting out a laugh, so glad that some idiot decided to pick now to piss her off. She hadn't been able to violently express herself in a little. She had quite a bit to let out of her system, this fool would be a perfect punching bag. She tore her dress and kicked off the shoes. But stood confidently ready to fight.

"If you wished so desperately for death," she whispered, "Why not just ask?"

The masked man moved with two quick swings that Graced dodged before flipping the man over her

Suddenly, a gentle prick stabbed into Grace's arm as the figure tried to resist being thrown..

"That's really the best you have?" she purred, shoving him forward, the figure took a step, his mask falling off, "Or are you just happy to see me?"

"Oh Gracelyn," the figure then said, "I am terribly happy to see you."

It was then, Grace realized her strength was slowly slipping away, "W-What?"

She let him go, stumbling, her knees giving out and embedded in her arm was a small device that injected her with colloidal silver. Pavel grinned from ear to ear, turning as he sat down on the throne. As if on cue, violence and war erupted outside.

"Wh-?" Grace slurred, her eyes fluttering and her insides burning painfully, "Pavel?"

"Oh, so you do know my name still," he said condescendingly, "Not a nobody to you after all."

She slumped unconscious, a wizardly potion made to knock out even vampires. A combination of colloidal silver and magical herbs. For a moment, Pavel did nothing but enjoy his position. He felt it was an omen of his future. His eyes closed and he listened as his army outside tore through those who had asked Grace so kindly for answers. His teeth grit, and he thought of how if it had been him, he would have slaughtered them for their insolence. Codrin dies here, Grace's power will be hers.

"Weak," he hissed, before smiling, "but that can always be changed."

So he leaned back and enjoyed the noise, his memories flashing back to the cold war. It reminded him of the first time he met Codrin. He had thought so highly of the powerful man, and Codrin had turned the KGB member; always finding opportunity in wars. He had turned to Pavel who served him well--a perfect soldier and an even better spy. That was until the cold war ended, and Codrin had no more use of the Soviet Union spy. Codrin never thought a pawn like Pavel could see a wider picture than his mission. So, like Zara, he had been tossed aside. Left an outcast into the dark world while Codrin continued to climb up, and up with the pretty fallen angel at his side. He remembers Grace's fake promises before she turned him.

"Michael," Grace weakly murmured.

Pavel's eyes snapped open, and for a moment he grew angry. Grace even know her last moments before being captured expected to be saved. He stood walking over to Grace's body to carry her out of the castle.

"Your empire is mine." Pavel said before walking off into the chaos with his prize.

******

Michael paused, looking up at the sky. A sudden cold chill crossed through his body, and a deep lump set in his throat. For a moment, he thought he heard Grace's voice but quickly shook it off. Grace was in her castle with a whole army to protect her, he reminded himself that she was safe, and yet that strange feeling told his heart otherwise.

"Michael," Ceil frowned, "Are you alright?"

He nodded, turning his attention back to the skyscraper, "Yeah, Let's go."

So, without another look up towards the dark sky, the two turned and entered the building. As the two walked towards the front desk of the very expensive hotel, a security guard walked up to them. Handing Ceil a black envelope, before stepping away.

"What's that?" Michael asked slowly.

Ceil opened it. Inside, a keycard to the penthouse, and a small letter that had the single initial Z on the front in cursive. She showed Michael and the two looked towards the elevator. Michael decided that he best trusts those premonitions.

"We're walking into a trap," Ceil sighed.

Michael nodded, "So what do we do?"

"Let's give the woman what she wants," Ceil replied with a smirk.

So, the two took to the elevator, the key card letting out a loud beep of approval.

EIGHTEEN

Zara could smell the two hunters in the elevator before the doors even opened. She sat upon her couch with a nice glass of blood and waited patiently. Her heel tapped impatiently against the floor and she counted down the seconds for the elevator to arrive at the top of the tall, glass building. As she waited, she wondered if Pavel had started yet, and for a moment, she felt annoyed that the man had left her to deal with two hunters. He was crafty and always knew what battles to pick himself. He thought himself a leader deserving to be protected.

"No, he could only trust me to do this," she told herself. Knowing full well her age gave her whatever edge she needed compared to Pavel. And yet, her voice didn't sound so sure.

Unfortunately, she wasn't given any more time to debate her position aside Pavel, as the elevator doors slid open slowly. Standing there was Michael and Ceil--the two hunters meant to cross her paths tonight. Zara smirked, tilting her head. She hadn't expected them to waltz in so stupidly, and alone at that. Yet here they stood.

All was going to plan like the benefactor had said, she mused.

"Zara," Ceil spat, "Hope we didn't make you wait long."

She smirked, finishing her glass before tossing it into the lit fireplace. The flames roared for a moment, but none watched it dance and eat up the glass and blood. Ceil took a step out of the elevator and towards Zara, and Michael followed closely behind. Zara however, she didn't move from her spot on the couch, watching the hunters..

"Oh please," Zara grunted, wishing to waste time upon her important mission, "What are you going to do? Did you even bring weapons with you? You certainly didn't bring backup."

"To deal with one vampire?" Ceil replied with a smirk, "Not needed."

Zara's playfulness melted away and she stood slowly, "You know hunter, you're beginning to annoy me now. Your lack of respect for our kind is distasteful. You should know to take death quietly and never blink"

Ceil's hand slowly moved to her back, where she pulled a long blade free of its hiding spot from under her shirt. Zara's eyes flickered over the weapon, her mood darkening ever more. She sighed, knowing the hunters would put up a dreadful fight.

"Please, let us be quick hunters. I'd hate to miss Grace's eventual slaughter."

"What is your plan with Grace?" Michael demanded losing all of his composure to Ceil's dismay

Zara rolled her eyes, "Silence blood whore. You dare address me that way? Though maybe I should thank you. You made Grace soft and with that we could enact our plan. All of this is because of you."