Made in Death's Image 03

The door to the warehouse opened, and a familiar friend stood in the doorway. Ceil had her hair tied back into a bun, a pair of tight black leggings and a black sports bra paired with a white crop top. Her face brightened as she looked over at her friend, a sudden smirk on her face.

"Michael," she breathed in greeting, a small crate in her hands. "You took your sweet time. Come. I've been unpacking some of the crates. We can talk inside if the entirety of Spain doesn't already know you're here. That's a damn loud bike."

He chuckled. "I'm sure they'll know we're here with or without my bike. Here, let me grab that," Michael said, reaching for the crate from Ceil.

Her eyes rolled, and she headed inside. "Be my guest."

Michael smirked. "I just need to feel like I'm doing more."

He peered around the warehouse curiously. It reminded him of Poppell Island. The old stone walls were reinforced with metal and curved in such a gothic organic way, with a large open section area that Michael knew Ceil planned to make into another hunter den, but also putting in a few living areas—so far it was really coming along. Ceil was always moving forward and making huge plays. Michael couldn't help but admire her conviction.

The living areas were all ready to go, each furnished functionally right beside a large bathroom—all that was left was the shared kitchen and the larger space that would be a preparation space. Of course, Ceil also had her own office in the warehouse. Michael had asked Ceil once where she had gotten all the money from, and Ceil had simply called in her favors from years past.

Michael did wonder sometimes about her. Ceil never discussed her family, nor her origins. She was always so careful to keep her past simple and coherent. Even the information surrounding the extent of her skills and experience—Ceil refused to tell him just how many hunters followed under her lead, and he honestly wasn't sure he wanted to know.

"How's it looking?" Ceil asked, placing the crate down onto another.

He nodded. "It's looking real good. I can't believe you did all this yourself."

Her brow arched, and she teased, "You know I can't be still?"

"No really." He rolled his own eyes. "You're always onto something."

Ceil's face darkened, and she nodded, moving to sit upon the crate stack with her legs crossed. She shifted in her seat for a moment, the wheels of her mind rapidly turning as she decided on what would be safe for Michael to know and what would be safer for him not to. Ceil knew this conversation was coming, and now was as good a time as any. Eventually, she decided on a vague discussion, one that would keep Michael safe.

She sighed lightly. "I have to be honest, Michael, I don't feel comfortable bringing you into this fight. While you've been making good progress with your studies, you're not ready to be in a fight with a vampire. Especially one like Pavel."

Michael tried to stay calm but felt annoyance bubble up in his chest. "I understand what you're saying, but I am ready. I've been training a lot lately, and I've even been able to hold my own since we arrived here. I need to find Grace. Ever since we learned they aren't going to kill her immediately, I've been patient, but it's wearing thin. It's been four months."

"I know how you feel," she breathed, "But you've not lived like this your whole life. I've been training to kill vampires since I could walk. You're not ready and you need to understand that. For now, I want you to hold the base down here. I sent a message to the hunters of this village. I really think they can help us. I'm just waiting to hear back."

"You want me to stay behind?" Michael said in frustration.

She frowned. "I want you to not die before you find Grace."

"It'll only take longer without me," Michael retorted.

She shook her head. "Maybe, but the risk isn't worth it right now."

"Fine," he snapped, turning to walk around the space.

"We'll save her," Ceil whispered, sliding off the boxes to cross the room. She placed her hand on his back soothingly. "She is probably figuring out how to save herself just as much as we are trying to save her."

He relaxed, if only a little. "I Know and still... But I need to get her away from that fuck. Who knows what that bastard is doing to her? If he is as powerful and dangerous as you say."

Ceil sighed, shrugging her shoulders. "There's not much to say. The social structures the vampires created here, these families run with old blood. Many had served Dragulia himself or are made by those Dragulia made himself, and others once at Codrin's side. I'm honestly not sure why they agreed to follow Codrin, but their old ideals probably matched his own. I can see why Grace becoming his successor caused a schism. The reason they choose to side with Pavel—he has the right blood and ambition. That's how a few would be more than willing to help his cause."

"So why'd they wait until now? Why didn't someone else make a move on Grace?" Michael demanded.

She grinned. "Because of Grace's age and distance. These vampires needed Codrin because he had indebted many and controlled the purse strings for many more. Had Grace been too young, she wouldn't be able to succeed him and maintain control with her own strength as an individual. But her actual age and distance made her too threatening to kill from the vampires in Europe. But when Pavel got her away from that power and brought her within a comfortable striking distance, they moved in support. They're under the impression Grace will be killed in this ceremony we both heard whispers about. Then if Pavel proved too difficult, they'd just kill him because of his pathetically young age."

"He won't kill Grace then?" Michael said perturbed. "He won't take over because he is scared they will stop him. Is he unsure?"

"I can't say for sure, but I doubt it'll be anytime soon," she replied with an emotion he hadn't heard from her before. He couldn't quite place it but it was soft and kind, as if she understood exactly what he was going through. "And we will save her. We just need to do so carefully, and with caution. Most of the aristocracy here is passive by nature. They have good terms with their hunter population—"

"That's unusual, no?" he muttered.

Her eyes rolled. "Some vampires are bad. Pavel bad. Some vampires are good, Grace good. Some vampires don't want to get involved but have bad intent, such as the ones who helped Pavel, and some vampires don't want to get involved and have good intent. It's not that confusing; you're just young and still—"

"Kinda in conflict with how vampires say hunters usually see them," he grunted.

A smirk found its way onto her face. "We aren't always villains from our perspective, now are we?"

"In those cases," he grumbled.

She continued, "Some places even live co-existing with vampires. Not too different from NYC. Though Codrin's iron fist and control put the hunters on the back foot. I'm sure not all who obey Pavel do so because they agree with him. He's a dangerous vampire, and most will understand the best side is his side."

"Seems a lot like Codrin's legacy."

Ceil shrugged. "Is it and it's not. That happens in our world all the time. We are nice to an enemy for the sake of either saving face or for our own self-preservation, only to stab them in the back later. We just need to show them that Pavel is more of Codrin's legacy."

"Damn it," Michael whispered. "Alright. What do you need me to do?"

Ceil nodded with a small smile, moving back to the crate to pull out a gun from it along with a silver tipped wooden stake. Michael carefully took the implements and hid them in his attire.

"Stay here," she said. "I'll be back in a few minutes with more information. I've sent word to the local hunters, but don't go after the vampire lord here. Let's try talking to him before we justify Pavel's war. They need to come to us on their own accord or we need to meet each other in the middle."

He sighed. "Alright."

"Oh and I'm taking your bike," Ceil said playfully and winking.

At that, Michael couldn't help but smile gently. "Don't crash it."

THREE

Ceil had taken the bike in order to prevent Michael from following her. Instead, however, she parked the bike across town, and near an underground entrance. There, she moved forward, pulling up the metal grate and slipping inside.

After moving inside the tunnel, she pulled a torch off the wall and lit it with a lighter from her pocket. The torch took no effort to light and when it did, Ceil looked around the tunnel. It was wet and cold, the tunnel system carved out in the 1400s, long ago for some unknown reason; however, when hunters took over the village, the route was turned into a secret exit in case of a counter attack. Then, when Dragulia's kind spread across Europe in the 1500's, they took the town from the hunters.

She moved down the stone stairs carefully, making sure to be precise with her steps. Only a select few even knew this tunnel still existed. Ceil was only lucky enough to have been told at all about such a means of escape- especially as an outsider. As she moved, the heels of her boots clicked against the stone, allowing for the silence to be disrupted every so often.

"This place is so extra," she muttered, moving onwards.

The nothingness of a distorted echo was her only reply. Eventually, the tunnel narrowed into an opening, and from there she found herself on the edge of a large manor. No doubt, the informant she was meant to see. Placing the torch back on the wall, a cold shiver went down her spine. The tunnels lead right into the village from here. If these vampires ever wished for it, they could sneak into it at night and slaughter all the villagers.

"Thank god they're not on Pavel's side," she muttered, moving forward.

Ceil didn't want to admit this to Michael, but she didn't know why they wouldn't help Pavel en masse truthfully. Ceil didn't invite Michael because she knew this had a high chance of turning into a mess of a fight if they suspected hunters had invited conflict in their territory. Ceil had no intention of threatening these old families with the suspicion of conflict.

Moving forward, she crept silently, up and over the thick iron fence that went around the property. It was strange, there were no vampire guards lurking about, and a sinking feeling in her stomach. Something was off, and she wasn't sure what.

Jumping from the fence onto a close tree, she peaked up and into the estate. To her surprise, the inside of the luxurious estate was not neat and tidy as expected, instead she faced a mess. The estate was trashed, windows broken and curtains ripped. Blood splatters covered the walls, and inside, not one piece of furniture was untouched.

No longer worrying about her sneaking skills, Ceil jumped through the open window, landing on her feet like a cat and broken glass chiming from under her boots. Looking around the place, she moved further, investigating the horrors that seemed to have occurred.

Turning the corner, she found a sight so terrible it made her stop dead in her tracks.

"What the hell happened here?" She whispered in horror.

Flesh. A dozen mounds of sinew smoldering in the chill. It was the clear sign of battle and conflict. Sickness settled in her stomach and she inhaled deeply. Someone stepped into the room, and Ceil turned slowly.

"Did Pavel do this?" She demanded in Spanish from the lone surviving man.

Gusfov Vegenii had been a vampire for as long as he could remember. He had been turned by one sired by Dragulia, and since then had lived a passive life. Vegenii could not remember being a human, but he knew it must have been the case. He knew the politics of this world well. He had an air of peacefulness to him. Because of that, Vegenii had always lived easily with the other creatures around him. But Ceil could see after she asked that question a deep bubbling heat stewed in his eyes. The subtlest of knobs was conveyed. Ceil couldn't believe what she was seeing. Pavel hadn't moved so violently before, let alone against his own kind. She hadn't seen a slaughter like this since the attack on Tartarus.

"I had forgotten what it meant to live through war," the old vampire whispered.

Ceil's eyes narrowed. "What happened here?"

He blinked as if only now noticing the hunter. "Have you come for my life?"

There was a hope in his tone, as if finally, after his entire family had been murdered by the hands of Pavel, he'd have peace dying himself. Not until she had heard his side of the story. The vampire had paced deliberately. Near his feet, a pile of sinew he seemed to contemplate endlessly.

"Not today," she replied, "But I can't promise others won't come for you?"

"They won't join them," he sighed, "and because of that... He will kill every last one."

"That's what you did? Ceil asked with a shred of sympathy.

Vegenii shook his head, a bitter laugh on his lips, "We'd refused his request to rest here when he landed a month ago. He was gracious but returned with a massive group and demanded fealty. We refused and he slaughtered us."

Her eyes widened in shock. "Tell me, before he attacked, did he say or do anything?"

"He took something. A small vial. I remember just before the fight started. He drank the entire thing, and he proved too much of a match for us. But it didn't last long. His men had to carry him out once I had gained the upper hand."

"Where did they go?"

"I don't know. I mourned my loss in the wake of it all."

Ceil nodded, trying to acknowledge the grief this undead being was feeling so coldly. "Did he have Codrin's progeny with him?"

"I'm unsure," he replied. "We know he had taken her, but he seemed more worried someone else would kill or free her versus being ruled by such a young vampire."

Ceil left after those words in haste. Her time tables had now moved up with Pavel suddenly acting so erratically. Vegenii watched tersely as the hunter left the slaughter house that was once his home.

FOUR

The car had stopped.

Grace looked over at Pavel, who met her gaze coldly. He leaned into her. Grace held her body still, not wanting to provoke Pavel. So, she sat as still as a marble statue. This made Pavel chuckle. He hoped she was afraid as he felt all those years ago.

"Grace," he whispered, his hand burying into her hair and pulling it lightly, "Do not try to escape. I'll just catch you again, and this time I will pull your arms and legs off."

She said nothing, simply closing her eyes and centering herself. Normally she would've just snapped and pulled this baby vamp head off. But between being bound in silver and surrounded by his sycophants.

Pavel then pushed her back into the seat with force before slipping from the car. For a moment, Grace debated her violent options again. She wondered why they stopped in the middle of some god forsaken forest, but in the distance she noted a large manor surrounded by thick stone walls. She frowned. Why had he stopped them here and then left the car? Either he was tempting her to act out, or there was someone Pavel wasn't sure about just beyond those walls.

"Now?" Grace asked the driver, leaning forward.

He said nothing, and she sighed, leaning back.

"This no information thing is so drab," she muttered. "It would be more interesting if I were on the loose." Her sarcasm was painfully deadpan.

The driver glanced at her through the mirror, more annoyed. "Near Besalu."

Besalu, she thought with surprise, the Vegenii clan.

Grace said nothing else, knowing better than to push what luck she already had. Instead, she leaned back and waited for her captor to return. What she didn't expect was the distant sounds of chaos—and the strong scent of spilled blood. Her eyes narrowed, and soon Pavel returned. He was being practically carried by two other men; vampire followers, no doubt. Grace watches closely as the car door is pulled open and they help Pavel inside.

"Leave me!" he snarled, and they backed off in turn.

Grace noticed the scent of the same drug emanating from him. She studied him carefully, taking notes of this version of Pavel. The car began to move, and Pavel leaned against his seat, breathing heavily. She noted how pale he was—even for a vampire, how his body had gone limp and a tremble consumed his whole body.

"Stop staring," he snapped without moving.

She turned her head away, but only slightly. He was so weak at this moment, and they both knew it. No doubt that would put him on edge, and it could grant her information without being actively in harm's way. She hid a smile. This was the perfect time to gain information.

"What were you doing at the Vegenii clan's manor?" she pressed.

He peeled open an eye. "What Vegenii clan?"

"So you slaughtered them?" Grace asked with disbelief, "With under ten men? Impossible. Gusfov is much older than us both. He is a powerful man."

He smirked, "And I am a more powerful man. I have something these vampires don't: drive."

She laughed at that. "You have all this drive and rely on these crutches. Look at how pathetic and weak you are after taking them. You are not powerful. You are delusional."

He leaned towards her, grabbing her by the hair—weakly, but it was enough to make her wince. She simply glared at him. In truth, it satisfied her, the way he was angry and yet unable to properly act upon her. He is even weaker now than he was when they had fought back in New York City- at least before he took that drug.

"It is true that perhaps I am weak now," he said to her in a weak hoarse voice, "But do not worry. I won't be long before I am even stronger than you."

He let her go once again and laid back in the seat of the car weakly.

FIVE

It was still dark when Michael heard the incoming of a familiar motorcycle. His head jerked up, and for a moment, his consistent pacing stopped. He had been up all night, awaiting Ciel's return. It gave him anxiety, her running off into an unknown situation while he was told to stay put like a child. He knew deep down that the hunters in town weren't coming—and he didn't blame them. Outsiders like them threatened the peace they had with the vampires, a peace no one knew was being threatened. They would be lucky if these hunters didn't try to kill them. So far, they were quiet, and that was assuring.

Michael had made it to the door just as it opened. He paused, his eyes wide as he took in the disheveled form of Ceil. He held back from speaking, allowing her to cross the room over to the couch and jumped onto it, leaning back against its soft back. As she did, she began to pull free the tied laces of her boots. He closed the door and walked back over to the couch, lingering patiently until he couldn't hold back any longer.

"What happened?" He blurted out.

She paused, her eyes sliding up to meet him and she sighed, "It's not good."

"Just tell me," he grumbled, his eyes narrowed, "You look terrible. Did the vampires give you trouble? Are they working closer to Pavel than we originally thought?"

She shook her head, leaning back, "It's not like that, actually, it's the exact opposite."

"What do you mean?"

"Pavel decided that the Vegenii clan was in his way," she replied standing, "He took that damn drug and tore right through the entire clan like they were nothing. I'm talking ten of Pavel's men against 30 or so older and stronger vampires."

Michael paused, "What?"

At first processing her words, Michael was shocked that a group of 30 vampires could be taken on by a much smaller group, but then, he knew the true fear in her words was not the amount of vampires but the power Pavel had. At least on those drugs. If Pavel could take out a clan of vampires with power like this on his side, there was a terrible grasp Pavel had over Grace's future.