It was similar to déja vu, except I knew it was not the same. I became aware of a body near me. It was cadaver cold, yet moving closer. Layers of heavy cloth lay strewn over me. Silk and other fine fabrics.  

Sleep well?  

I didn't answer her immediately.  

“I'm not entirely sure.” My eyes remained closed.  

“Well, I have something to settle your nerves." I felt the lady slip from the bed, I sensed more than heard her pad silently from the bed to elsewhere in the room, and she returned to my side of the bed.  

I opened my eyes.  

She stood there, naked with naught but her hair cascading darkly over her body and a small pitcher in her hand. 

“Don't fret; it is not more of the dreamer’s wine.” She held it at a precarious angle above me. I turned my face away. 

“I'd rather not, thank you.” My voice was quiet, almost distant. 

“I insist, for the one unfortunate side effect of dreamer’s wine, particularly good dreamer’s wine, is that the connection between mind and body becomes stretched. This effect becomes dangerous if you drink too eagerly.” Her voice sounded different, like it was muffled by thick fog. 

…or if you've consumed it for the first time.  

The world and all my senses snapped back the moment the first droplets of the warm liquid spattered onto my skin. Clem poured the entire pitcher, small as it was, onto my chest and She made the last few drops land onto my face. I heard the clatter of the pitcher as it landed at our side. 

The Lady Clem LaRoux pressed herself against me and ravenously lapped up the viscous dark liquid on my pale body. I licked at the few drops that had landed near my lips. 

Blood, fresh blood.  

“Where did you get this?” It was sweet, and at first I froze in a fraction of panic—but it not as sweet as Richard's.  

I grasped Clem and joined her. As she sucked and licked the blood off me, I cleaned her tiny body of the last traces of what she had gotten on her in her frenzy.  

With a heavy sigh, Clem composed herself and stepped away from the bed.  

“I understand that you've been on a holiday until recently.” Her eyes travelled the length of my body.  

“If you want to call it that, yes.” 

She sauntered over behind an elaborate dressing screen and disappeared from my view. From behind it, her voice continued unrushed.  

“Aside from a few noteworthy souvenirs the respite was no doubt necessary, or else you would have been called back. I have often wondered about the circumstances regarding your leave of absence—"  

“Keep wondering.” I interjected.  

“...but I'm sure I'll discover the details all in due time.” She stepped out into view as she spoke.  

She was fully clothed and though her attire was similar in nature, it was quite a different ensemble to that she wore yesterday. 

“I'll be delighted to catch you up on some very important happenings that occurred during your siesta. I took the liberty of dealing with your clothing. I've set a full outfit for you on the chest at the foot of the bed.” 

She had been watching me slide out of the bed looking around for my clothes. I glanced at the offered attire and looked back at her. She was sinking back into a chaise while her eyes remained locked on me. There was a minimal hint of a smirk in the shape of her lips. I held up some of the articles of clothing intended for me.  

“How very, burlesque.” I mocked. 

“Oh trust me, they suit you. So much more so than that mundane fashion you sported when you disrobed last night.”  

I didn't comment. I began to dress as she went on.  

“You're quite lucky you know, in having the Sire you do.”  

“Am I?”  

“He contacted me not too long ago, informing me of few things that I should convey to you in the rare event that I should run into you before he did.”  

I glanced over at her questioningly.  

“I hope those fit well, I merely guessed at your size.”  

“Snug,” is all I had said to that. She lifted her chin and looked me over while she continued.  

“So at this time I must tell you that he is worried about you, more than he lets on. I'm sure whatever contribution his actions had to the cause of your departure he's at least reconsidering them, or possibly repentant entirely. I'm sure that a swift return on your part he would openly welcome. With that being said, there are a few things I should tell you before you make your return. No cravat?”  

“Are you planning to take me out to a ball?”  

She shrugged at my sarcasm. “There's dissention within the clans again.”  

“Again.” I echoed without enthusiasm.  

“Yes. Though it seems Carrington is involved.” 

“Of course he's involved. My Sire is always involved. What you're saying is that his involvement is somehow more… prevalent then?" Her nod was deliberate and conveyed enough gravity that I faced her fully.  

“This isn't good then.” I stated.

“It'll do,” she referred to my borrowed attire. 

Lady LaRoux stood resolutely and strode over towards me. She fussed at my clothes a moment and smoothed down the fabric tenderly. She fingered the tips of my hair at either side of my face. I felt her eyes traces paths over my skin and I watched her intently. I straightened my posture marginally under her gaze.  

“You've been without proper care a short while, but it shows.” Her eyes sought mine. “I don't like it. You shouldn't let yourself go like this.”  

I looked away and my eyes found the foot of the darkened stair we descended the previous night.  

Clem’s slender fingers caressed my chin.  

“If you want to contact your Sire from here, you can. Simply know that, if you choose to do so, you'll have to go to him promptly.”  

“I was only planning to stay here for a while anyway, and then—”  

“I know Viktor.”  Her enunciation of my name was always… dramatic. 

I looked down at her, and she up at me. 

“Richard,”  

“I know.” The timber of her voice chilled me. Her face brightened. “Come! I need to see to my other guest. I trust he's a sweet child and doesn't wander and touch things like other humans do.”  

I snickered as the memory of Richard snooping in my apartment the other night flashed before me. She flashed a look back at me as she started up the stairs. I followed. As with the descent, immeasurable darkness shrouded the stairs as we approached the main level. I heard a soft rustle of fabric and a rectangle of soft light appeared, and the silhouette of Clem within it. She stepped forward, over the threshold. I followed suit, and tried not to notice if I had stepped through a wall, or a dark gaping shadow where a door should be. Some details are better left a mystery.  

As we stepped out into the main foyer I detected something in the air. Clem continued walking as if she was doing so numbly for a few seconds. She gasped and darted towards the wide entry way into the front room on her right. I saw her freeze as she rounded the corner. I faltered when I recognized the shifting golden light that illuminated her ashen face. I continued to close slowly. From over her shoulder I saw in the fireplace of the room a generous blaze of fire. 

I also noticed that a wide plush chaise had been placed surprisingly close to the conflagration. Clem grasped my arm. I blinked. Richard was curled up neatly on the chaise fast asleep.  

“What is he doing?” The lady nearly hissed the words.  

“I'm guessing, he was cold or something.” I told her. I saw her widened eyes glaze over. She was entranced by the flames. I too, felt the gripping terror rise up in me. When I faced towards the fireplace again, I kept my eyes off of the flames themselves and desperately locked onto Richard. I gently pried Clem's fingers from my arm.  

“I'll wake him.”  

“Get him to stop the fire.” She ordered. “Be careful.”  

I stepped into the room. I sensed the blaze without needing to look at it. It wasn't its heat I sensed either. The light that most flames produce is somewhat akin to the light of the sun. Only UV lights are much truer in comparison. But it's not just its light that caused such fear in Clem and I. Something in the nature of the flame seems to directly bother us, perhaps because it's so elemental, so natural, so powerful, and thus something very deep and raw in our natures react to it. Fear, for some of us is something we see, and in some cases feed on. And for most of us, it's something rarely experienced. 

Halfway to where Richard lay snugly, I faltered. The flickering light distracted me and my foot caught the floor rug. I had to look away.  

“Aren't you a sorceress, can't you do something!” I shot the words back at Clem. She flinched and blinked. She concentrated for a moment glaring at the flames.  

“Étouffée.” At the command, the flames sputtered and died. I turned in time to see tendrils of smoke rise from the ashes. I looked over my shoulder back towards Clem, a little taken aback.  

“It was that simple?” I asked sharply. LaRoux regarded me coldly and shrugged. Her eyes lowered and narrowed. I heard Richard stir and I turned as he propped himself on an elbow. He rubbed at his right eye and blinked. His dark eyes were bleary, but they focused on me.  

“What happened?” He asked me.  

I opened my mouth to answer, but Clem pounced upon him her voice cold and deliberate, and cutting.  

“My dear boy, there was a time where a child would remain unheard and silent until spoken to, expected to follow rules of conduct set upon him by his elders, until the point where he became a man. You are by no stretch a man. I see before me a daft child who sees fit to set fires in someone else’s home. That someone, who until now, has seen fit to welcome said daft child in her home. You will remain quiet until you leave.” 

My mouth was still open when I heard her address me.  

“As for you, my dear sweet Viktor, you will contact your Sire presently and discuss your return. Please take your pet with you when you depart.”  

She was gone from the room before I could respond. Richard looked confused and was speechless.  

“Richard, it's not your fault.” His eyes sought mine. “But just so you know, fire is something we react very badly to.”  

“Ok.” He nodded with a frown. He looked like a little boy then, a little boy that had been strongly scolded. “I'm sorry.”  

I hadn't heard her re-enter, but both Richard and I jumped when Clem set down a smallish oblong gem on the table beside me.  

“The stone's key word is the name of the person. I'm going for a stroll, when I get back…”  

I gathered from her tone, that if we were still here when she got back, we would need a really good reason for still being here. In a heartbeat she was gone again and Richard and I were alone. He cast furtive glances around the room.  

“Don't worry, she's going to be busy for a while blowing off some steam prowling around the area. We have some time.” I picked up the stone and tested its weight in my palm. I stood there and stared at it. 

“What are you waiting for?” Richard had come to stand next to me. The warmth radiated from him and pulled at me. He was staring down at the little gem. “Is it like a phone?”  

“Not quite.” I smirked at him. His skin seemed washed out, and he had an exhausted look about him. He was still weak overall, but his heart was beating strongly. My eyes lingered where I had sunk my teeth into him two nights ago. There was some bruising but the punctures had already healed. He faced me after awhile. His dry parched lips twitched before he spoke.

“Do what you have to do.”  

“Have a seat, give me some space.” I motioned with a nod. He sat back down on the chaise he had napped on. I retreated to the center of the room and sat down on a sofa. I pressed the stone into my palm with my other palm. I closed my eyes and concentrated.  

“Carrington.” I spoke softly, the name simply falling from my lips into still air.  

I waited.  

“Alabaster Carrington." I said my Sire's full name with more intention.  

Still nothing.  

I had used these stones a handful of times. If Clem was right, then within a minute or so I should hear my Sire's voice. The prolonged delay bothered me. I clasp my hands together and pressed them against my lips.  

I shivered.  

Clem, you bitch! You're probably watching this aren't you?  

No reply. 

I understood now, and with that spark of knowledge I dreaded what came next. I opened my eyes slowly. Richard was still sitting where I had told him to, and he was doing a bad job of trying to avoid looking at me. When he saw my eyes on him, he straightened noticeably.  

I sighed.  

“Richard come here, I need to ask you a favour.” I noticed that my voice sounded distinctly resigned. Richard came to me, cautiously. Maybe he heard something in my voice too, something else.  

“What is it?” He asked softly.  

“Sit down.” I told him. He sat down next to me looking a little nervous. “This stone isn't what I thought it was. For it to work I'll need you to be relaxed. I need you to put it under your tongue, don't swallow it though.”  

“Will it be dangerous?” Richard asked.  

“Not dangerous no, but tricky,” was my answer.  

I slipped from the sofa onto my knees and faced the boy. He gulped nervously. I held out the little stone. It glinted darkly. His slender fingers reached for it, trembling as they did so. With his thumb and middle finger he picked the stone from my hand and held it up.  

“Will it be anything like the, the driveway?”  

“No.” I said decisively. I almost added something, but I held my tongue.  

His eyes studied the stone for a moment before he looked over it at me. I could sense some trepidation, but he was calm too. That meant he placed a great deal of trust upon me. I really disliked the idea of putting him through this, but Clem gave me no choice. I decided that I'd need to revisit this issue with her at some point in the future.  

Suddenly, Richard popped the little gem into his mouth. I saw his tongue work, securing it underneath. He regarded me calmly at first. I took a deep breath and placed my hands at either side of his face.  

“Alabaster Carrington.” I said watching the boy intently. He grimaced.  

“It's getting—” he began.  

“Cold?” I finished for him placing a finger on his lips. He nodded and remained silent. Already I sensed his body temperature fluctuating.  

“Just close your eyes, it might take a while.” He closed his eyes. My finger was still pressed lightly upon his lips. I studied his face, watching for any signs. Slowly I lowered both hands and rested them lightly on his shoulders. Time seemed to drag on. Each breath Richard took appeared to span a lifetime. His heart beat pounded in his chest as inevitable as waves upon a craggy shore. An hour passed, or it could have been a minute, but when things changed, several things happened. It was hard to tell what I noticed first.  

My hands sensed a ripple of tension through his shoulders. His posture altered, his back became straighter, and his neck somewhat longer with his chin raised a fraction. Richard's lips thinned slightly, or it could have just been the corners of his mouth stretching ever so much, easing into that subtle grin. His hands relaxed, fingers stretching and sliding towards mine own.  

“Finally.” Richard said in a voice that was not quite his own—the manner was certainly not his, the accent, the enunciation, and the cold distant delivery. The boy's eyelids parted revealing eyes that were startling. They were dark and dilated, yet exuded deathly calm.  

“I shouldn't be surprised, but nonetheless... I am.”  

“Sire…” I began.  

For the moment he ignored me. Richard's hands curled around my wrists, his eyes glaring down. I lifted my hands from the other’s shoulders. I stood and took a step back. I watched as Richard regarded himself with new found perspective. He stood as well with a remarkably slow pace that he seemed to move in slow motion. His hands patted along his body and stroked along his face and neck.  

“This boy is a fascinating choice for you Viktor.”  

“There was little choice involved on my part. Clem was in a mood."  

A chuckle rose out of Richards’s throat, “Of course. You know, however, that is not what I meant.”  

“I wasn't planning to return so soon, Sire. However, situations arose. The whole of it is too long a tale to tell right now. Perhaps we can fully reacquaint ourselves afterwards."  

It was strange having Richard stand before me, while actually speaking to my Sire through him. At times, I caught flickers within the look on Richard's face. At times it seemed to hover between two different facial expressions.  

“I have transport available that can be within your location inside of an hour. Can you be ready and waiting at the old mill in that time?"  

“I believe so.”  

“Good. I'll want you back in time for us to discuss things before morning.”  

“I'm guessing you've got a new toy then?”  

At this Richard's lips curled into a sly grin. 

“You'll like her.”  

“I'm sure.”  

“Don't be late.”  

At this I grinned. Richard regarded me curiously for a second, and then he looked down at himself. Placing his hands on his chest and taking a deep breath his eyes glinted in the darkness. When he looked back up at me, he gave a small smile. 

“I approve.”  

This gave me a shock. I didn't expect such a positive comment at all, regarding Richard from Carrington. Of course, this meant he was under the impression that I've shepherded the boy under my shadow. I hadn't. Not intentionally. But it was true that I had little more to do to officially herd the boy. It was oddly disquieting to realize this. While I did have a few choice individuals that I had recruited before my leave, I hadn't furthered the connection. Perhaps living off of the excess of Alabaster’s luxury was the reason, or perhaps a tiny remnant of human morality still thrived deep within me—unlikely.  

I pushed aside these musings.  

Richard's body shuddered with a lurch forward and I caught him. He gasped for air and clung to me.  

“You okay, Richard?” He pushed away and fell back against the sofa. He looked disoriented.  

“Richard! It's me, Viktor.” 

“Vik… Viktor." His eyes focused slowly on my face. “I remember… someone, but I'm not sure….”  

“It's alright. We can leave now. Do you need a few minutes?”  

“I dunno.”  

So I waited until the boy seemed steady, and ready to focus. When I figured he was ready, I helped him to his feet.  

“Is all your stuff still in the room upstairs in the bag?”  

He cast me a sharp look, and then nodded.  

“Good. We need to take a little hike. It's not far, but we need to get there soon.”  

“I'm tired and hungry, and so thirsty.” Richard whined.  

“I know, me too.” I said without thinking. “I'll see what Clem has that we can bring with us. I'm sure she won't mind too much. Go! Get your stuff." 

I ushered him out of the room and he headed upstairs. I, in turn, sought the kitchen. I didn't think I'd find anything useful but I was wrong. I found a pantry, stocked with the bare minimum, mostly various camping rations, but with a few things that would help Richard maintain, and perhaps regain his strength.