Made in Death's Image 03

Ceil slowly lowered her blade, "Why? He wasn't at the estate with the rest of you, Vegenii?"

"He is a... free individual," he sighed, "I often loathed his distance from my watchful eye but his defiance is now a blessing."

"Who are these guys?" Michael said, carefully eyeing the statue-still young vampire in front of him.

Marius Gusfov looked over to Michael curiously, "Who are you? You are a hunter, yes? No, you are much too untrained to be a hunter. Are you the hunter that stole the heart of Codrin's progeny?"

Ceil opened her mouth, "He doesn't have—"

"Yes, and she isn't Codrin's progeny. She is her own person," Michael corrected, "I'm going to get her back."

Marius nodded, "You have the heart very few people in this world have. Such a respect and trust for the ones they come to love. Then I leave you with my son and all the assets at my disposal while I take my leave. You have the full support of the Vegenii clan- whatever is left of it, what my son and I have left, is yours."

Ceil searched his face for any signs of deception or act but when she found none, she nodded.

"Thank you," she replied.

The old vampire nodded looking over at Michael, "Do not fail your Grace."

Michael gun lowered, "I won't."

NINE

True to his word, Marius left them a very generous amount of money, an SUV equipped with a case of weapons and a small amount of silver. The large van was a deep black, with tinted windows, as well as the frames on the license plates. The plates however were blank except in the right light in which they glistened a number unfamiliar with Spanish license plates.

Ciel had strapped up with two guns on a chest harness and loaded them with what silver bullets they had left. Michael himself had taken a knife plated in silver onto his person with the hand gun from prior. The only one who didn't seem to be dressed for battle was Lorenzo, who wore a simple pair of black pants, shiny shoes and a white button up with the top buttons open to expose his dark chest hair. Michael had looked Lorenzo over and could admire that he was a Spaniard stallion.

"Are you sure that's all you're gonna take Lorenzo?" Michael asked, as Lorenzo walked up to the car after checking through the hunters' soon to be old domicile.

Ceil hummed, "Listen, more weapons for us."

"Fine," Michael sighed.

Lorenzo opened the car door and looked to his new allies before speaking in Spanish, "We are heading to Pavel's home town, yes? It will be a long drive, we should move out soon."

Michael looked from Lorenzo to Ciel and sighed at the fact that he only caught half of what was said. He wanted to trust Marius, and clearly Ceil did but he couldn't help but be unsure of this cover of a smut novel vampire joining them. Maybe it was because this vampire had everything and the power to truly save Grace, or maybe it was because Michael couldn't help without everyone else. It made him feel small to need all this help. Turning his gaze over to Ceil instead, he watched the female hunter close the back of the SUV then move to the driver's side before hesitating.

"Michael you should drive," she said, "Lorenzo you take the passenger side and I'll take the back seat. The GPS is already set up for you."

Michael looked confused, "Why?"

"Because if I try anything funny," Lorenzo said in heavily accented English with a chuckle, "The hunter's best position to kill me would be from behind my seat."

Ceil smirked at him, "That's exactly why. Don't take my caution too seriously. But your father was a possible antagonist to me for a while."

"I won't," the vampire replied, "I would do the exact same thing in your position."

Michael looked between them curiously before coughing, "Alright. Let's go."

They got into the vehicle, and as the sun reached its peak in the sky, they drove off, leaving Besalu in the past. As they drove away, Michael's thoughts couldn't help but turn to Lorenzo. There was a sinking feeling from deep within that told him he'd see the strange hunter again, and that worried him. He knew nothing about Hugo, but he did know that the fear he caused in that café was nothing to feel good about. His eyes flickered back to the road, and he sighed softly, pushing those thoughts away.

"Hey, untrained hunter," Lorenzo mused.

Michael's eyes shifted over to Hugo briefly, "What?"

"Earlier, you said Pavel took the woman you love," Lorenzo replied, his deep black orbs blazing intensely, "you must know he won't let a hunter or a vampire live who attempts to cross him."

Michael's throat went dry and Ceil kicked the back of Lorenzo's seat.

"She's not so easy to kill," she replied coolly, "She's very old, and we know Pavel has no plans on killing her just yet, maybe not at all. She's alive and we're coming."

Lorenzo's eyes went very soft, "A hunter falling in love with a vampire? How did such a thing ever happen?"

Michael smiled to himself for a fraction of a second, "I don't really know myself. All I know is she tried showing me mercy and her heart. I guess she also got to see my hear as well. I think we're a miracle and proof that vampires could choose to coexist."

"That is—how do you say—very wishful thinking," Lorenzo muttered softly.

"And yet here you are, helping us," he replied, annoyed by the vampire's pessimism.

The vampire gave off a grin that showed his canines, "Do not mistake this. The enemy of my enemy is my ally. Once Pavel is dead, we can fight for any pettier reason either of our kind chooses. Our very existence upsets a millennia old power balance. You think we are equals?"

Ceil snickered coldly from the back seat, "You sound like a boy trying to impress your father. You are here to make your father proud, or are you doing this out of regret for not being with your family? Gus—Marius assured us you are his eldest son and yet, he sent a boy off to die."

Lorenzo looked at her through the mirror, "You are an intriguing woman. Zero care for ego."

"Why," she scoffed, "Because I'm tired of boys in men's bodies?"

He smirked, "No, because you see yourself above this pettiness. You see a shape you wish to take the world to. Not many share that clarity."

Ceil's eyes narrowed, and she glanced back at the vampire through her rearview mirror, "If I am the first egoless hunter or vampire you've met in your entire life? If that's true; you need better company."

"I suppose I do," Lorenzo smiled watching Ceil.

Silence fell over the car and Michael looked at them feeling awkwardly like a third wheel to a conversation that would quickly outpace him.

TEN

"Why do you wish to go back?" Codrin wondered.

Grace looked over at him, smiling kindly and poking a finger at her new canines. It had been a week since Codrin had taken her from the brothel, a week since he had turned her into a vampire—a being above all others but as she learned quickly; always under Codrin. She promised herself that there was no point in looking back and yet she couldn't stop thinking about Raven.

"I want to see Raven," she replied, "I want to help her."

Codrin frowned, "Why?"

"She saved me," Grace explained, "Without her I would have never found you, I would have never been able to be with you, I just want to repay the debt she gifted me."

"Gifts are not things to be repaid. They are freely given," he started, then saw the disappointment in her eyes, "But this is the only way to teach you the difference. You may go, take whatever money you will need. However, whatever you find, remember humans are fragile and weak creatures. What you see is the difference between us and them."

Grace nodded in her crimson gown, "Thank you master."

"Take your leave, it is an allowance I do not afford," he replied coldly before returning to his novel in front of the fire that smoldered behind him.

She returned to the brothel as soon as night had fallen. Codrin's carriage loaned to her had rolled up, and he promised to wait for her in the carriage. It was still early, Grace had yet to learn all the abilities of their kind and he wished not to overwhelm her. As they pulled up, Grace quieted, the entire ride she could not help but gush on and on about Raven and how much she cared for the human. Cordin said nothing, already knowing what fate had become of the Raven, Grace spoke of so fondly.

He knew Mary's temper, which is why he would never turn her.

"I will be back," Grace said, pressing her lips to his.

He nodded.

With that, Grace walked inside, her head high as she quickly found Mary by the door, sweet talking two young men that looked rich and stupid enough to fall for even the fakest of attentions Mary offered. However, as she stepped inside, Mary paused, her eyes wide on Grace and the expensive material that adorned the woman. Her lip turned up into a contortion of ire. How had Codrin picked such a weak woman?

"You're back," Mary said sweetly, "I suppose the gentleman who took you away has decided to trade you back for me?"

Grace laughed, "I'm here to see Raven."

"Raven?" the old woman looked confused, "Oh yes. That one. She's gone. Left about a week ago. However, she comes by every so often to visit, you can leave whatever you wish to give her with me and I will make sure she receives such parcels."

Grace looked suspiciously at her, "Where has she gone?"

"Who knows?" Mary replied, her hand already out.

Her nostrils flared as she inhaled deeply. She could smell Raven's scent still within the house which proved Mary's lie—the odd thing was the scent had come from the basement. Raven must have been in the basement fetching some prized wine. Grace pushed past her, marching towards the locked cellar door that stood in the cold room.

"Where are you going—what are you doing?" Mary shrieked.

Upon the sight of the two, all girls within the kitchen area scrambled, pretending to see nothing of the scene. A lock? She wondered as she folded with it before just deciding to break the damn thing with her new found strength. As the lock crumbled, an odd scent tickled her nose, it was the scent of rot and earth and yet Raven's scent was so finely laced with it as well concerningly entwined.

"You can't go down there," Mary screamed, grabbing Grace's arm, panic in her voice, "I Just go! Go back to your damned new husband and leave us all alone!"

Grace tilted her head, growing angry and fearful now, "Get off me."

Mary now realized Grace would not be stopped, and began running from the house itself. For a moment, Grace couldn't understand why. Her eyes turned back to the bottom of the stairs and there, she saw a lump of something. It stank terribly—the lavender hung above the stairs doing nothing to hide it. Then, a terrible scream tore from Grace's lips as she realized what the pile of indistinguishable clothes and matter was—who the lump was.

******

A door suddenly opened, and Grace looked up, her mind back to the present. She didn't move as two of Pavel's men walked in, struggling to hide the wave of emotions that clung to her still. They paid her no mind, placing a delicate paper pink box upon the bed beside her. She eyed the fancy box carefully, her gaze lingering on the red bow that adored the front.

"Get dressed," one commanded foolishly.

Grace smiled with such fakeness one of the guards looked as if he'd laugh from how uncomfortable, "What is the occasion?" she asked, condescendingly.

"Our generous host wishes to have you join us for dinner," the other followed up, "We will be back in three minutes. You've been given the privilege of bathing in the grand bath hall, don't make us wait."

She said nothing in reply, and satisfied by her silence, the two left. The door locked with a heavy clang of ancient mechanisms as they closed it behind them. A sigh pushed from her lips and she lifted the box's lid from its place. Inside was a beautiful red fabric that birthed an uncomfortable laugh from their lips.

"I'll never escape this color will I," she exhaled with a modicum of humor.

She clenched her fist around the fabric.

ELEVEN

With Grace's clothing bundled under her arm, she was taken to the aforementioned grand bathroom, consisting of marble countertops, and a large walk-in entrance adorned beautifully in carved and gold leafed wood that stretched the length of the whole wall. Her eyes slid to her guards who didn't enter the room with her but also didn't make any move to close the bathroom door. Sighing and accepting her lack of privacy, she stripped, placing the bundle onto one of the marble countertops and her own clothes onto the floor.

She stepped into the large omnidirectional shower, allowing the overflowing hot water to dance across her bare, milky skin. A soft sigh left her lips, and she tilted her head back to allow the water to pass across her face. It felt good to have been given a small relief within Pavel's less than ardent care. Not by any means did she trust him, however, she couldn't find any trap within the allure of a hot shower. If anything, she knew it was more for him. He wanted her to look her best for him, she wondered if he still wanted her in that way. Making her out like a prisoner and a cheap whore to tote around was surely part of Pavel's psychological torture but Grace had figured that out quickly. Maybe he was giving her some humanity back to rip it away. More senseless torture techniques he surely picked up from the KGB.

"He caught me," she chuckled bitterly against the water, "And clipped my wings like a fucking parakeet. I was so foolish to fall into all those traps and now the last thing Michael saw of me was anger."

"Hurry up," a guard barked.

Grace ignored the command knowing full well the guard really couldn't make her without help. She exhaled, moving her fingers across the shelf of fancy soaps and scented oils. Humming softly to herself, she pretended to be somewhere else in the world, a fancy hotel honeymoon with Michael—the kind of place that offers massages after showers, and six course meals. Her eyes teared at the fantasy life, but then they opened, and she pushed the illusion away. Picking a mildly scented shampoo, she massaged her blonde locks, then rinsed. Before doing her hair care routine with what product she could. Following suit - her body. Carefully she lathered and cleaned herself. It was such a kind and warm sensation that she almost forgot where she was. She could imagine Michael in the next room reading a book or watching TV waiting for her. The thought was cruelly interrupted by the same guard again demanding she hurry. Stepping out, she casually dried her hair before glancing over to the guards, who seemed to be trying to look anywhere but her body.

Smirking, she finished her routine of skin care and makeup hoping a guard would be foolish enough to move on her. All she needed was an opening to escape. But these damned guards didn't bite, so she put on her red dinner gown and proceeded to the door. Batting her eyes at the guards, she pulled a pout upon her lips, her fangs delicately puncturing the soft flesh of her bottom lip.

"Can one of you help me?" she purred, "Pavel wouldn't like it if my gown were to fall off while dining with him. I wonder who'd he kill, me or the two who refused to follow his orders? I have certainly been compliant to dress accordingly, have you?"

They stuttered before one carefully walked forward to raise the zipper at the back of her dress. As they did, Grace cocked her head, taking advantage of the close proximity to fully scan the guards and their appearance. Neither one of them seemed to have any of the drug on them—this was good information. That meant while Pavel allowed them to use the drug, he only did so while they were in conflict. He seemed to be extremely cautious about sharing his power, which meant he liked his guards to be relatively weak while they weren't backing him up in a fight. Grace pondered this however- two vampires this young wouldn't stand a chance in a fight against her. Pavel would've needed to send four or five of them- unless this mansion was far harder to escape than she expected.

"Done," the guard grunted, "We're late, hurry up."

Grace rolled her eyes but said nothing. The two guards then escorted her through the maze-like mansion. Out of all the windows Grace saw she saw all of them with silver bars long since tarnished. This mansion was as much a prison for Vero as much as a fortress. For a moment, Grace paused, her eyes flickering around the beautiful engraved wooden walls and multiple paintings. The lighting was dim in the room, the floor covered with a deep crimson carpet. In the middle of the massive room was a large dining room table, covered with a variation of wines. Above the table, a large golden chandelier decorated with glistening crystals, and tucked into the table was gold velvet and deep dark oak chairs. In each chair, a vampire dressed formally, Vero sitting to Pavel's left. Each talking loudly and enjoying their empty plates and glasses of wine. It put Grace off, she could see how these people were trying so hard for Pavel's attention; sycophants like what surrounded Codrin. As she stepped into the room, the room quieted, all eyes shifting between Pavel and Grace. Everyone was wondering how Pavel would react.

"You're late, sit," Pavel jovially commanded.

Carefully, Grace was shoved into a chair, in front of her an empty plate. It took her no time to realize the call to dinner was all for show. She watched Pavel with a stern face, a maid walked up, pouring Grace a flute of expensive and old wine. The wine she recognized was dated the year he was turned- before all the European wines took on the metallic taste of radiation from Chernobyl.

"The bird wishes to shit on your kindness," Vero hissed in Romanian.

"Drink your wine," Pavel then said slowly, ignoring Vero, "Savor it."

Obeying, she took a small sip, the smooth flavor rolling over her tongue. As she did, the conversations started up again. Grace honed in, her eyes staying on Pavel, her nerves on edge. She knew he had a reason for having her sit at the table and she feared he was waiting for another cruel display.

"And here she sits—Codrin's whore!" A vampire suddenly laughed.

Grace's eyes slid over to the fat vampire with annoyance.

"She is no whore," Pavel replied, sipping his own wine, "She was Codrin's errant progeny, born into the decadence his power made but with none of his conviction or desire for power. She might've been a whore at some point but she even fucked that up."

Grace would've ripped his head off right now if she knew she could make it across the room in one piece. If anyone was the indignant child, it was him. He had a hunger for power that was beginning to scare her. It scared her because she believed he might even be able to pull it off.

"Yes, yes," the fat vampire replied, laughing nervously, "That's what I meant. A spoiled child. Pathetic—she is truly pathetic. The former lord is truly a pathetic creature, unfit for that throne, unlike you."

"Enough," Vero warned, "You talk too much."

The fat vampire instantly silenced himself and lowered his head in deference.

Grace smirked at the fat vampire.

Pavel looked at Grace's smirk, before taking a sip of his wine, "This is true. You had everything after you killed your maker. But you didn't even try to take his power and rule as he did- cement your legacy. Such a useless vampire. Grace, tell me, you have finally found your own self and with that you choose to fall in love with a hunter?"

She tilted her head, "Do you allow me to respond?"

"Of course," Pavel replied, "You are a guest at my dinner."

"I had begun to loathe Codrin not long after we abandoned you. I'd distanced myself from his contact and hold for sometime. But like any cruel master he reeled me back in. But when I had been put in a situation similar to the events that created you- I choose another path. I'd fallen in love with that man and I'd learned there was a life out from under Codrin's thumb," her tone was very earnest, "I had gleamed a life. I realized I still had choices I could make. I still had love in my heart, of course I'd leave that putrid legacy behind and forge a real life. My life as Grace."