Ryan Walker had been in a drunken stupor at a party a few times before and had strong or not so strong hangovers afterwards, but just at that moment his head felt like a heavy anvil and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t even begin to lift it. He didn’t perceive much and added to that was the fact that a barely transparent bck cloth bag was draped over his head. Voices were echoing around him, but he couldn’t understand a word right now. Everything was as if someone was talking through a thick pane of gss and someone was dragging him across the floor. He was aware of this and he dimly noticed the golden light visible through the tiny mesh of the sack. Ryan tried to pull the sack from his head but he couldn’t lift a finger, let alone his arms, which reminded him of overdone naps. Lying wrong once and everything was numb, only it just manifested itself a whole level more extreme and yet there was one thing he could clearly feel. It was a twinge in his left breast, where something had definitely been stabbed and was still stuck in it, but strangely he couldn’t see anything suspicious. Was that why he had just been taken to hospital? Was that why he didn’t feel anything? Had he had an accident? If so, they weren’t treating him very gently and gradually he heard fragments of words.

  “... And the night was just beginning,” a scratchy male voice compined.

  "Disturbing," said a second gruff male voice. More words followed, but again most did not penetrate the gss and only a residue remained. "Incinerate and be done with it."

  "What else? Lady .... will do nothing else.”

  "On nights like this ... ... impossible."

  It was a short conversation, for Ryan heard neither clear nor muffled words. However, smells began to creep into his nose, reaching his otherwise numbed senses and all of them Ryan did not know, but he recognised vanil, roses, pepper, curry, steak, fresh lettuce, lemon, even seawater was there and no matter how much more entered his nostrils, Ryan could clearly separate this bomb of scents. Perfume and after shave of various natures also joined in.

  "The infant is perking up," the raspy male voice noted. "Too bad he won’t be around long."

  The gruff voice seemingly gave Ryan a pat on the back of the head. "You hear that? Don’t get used to it. Soon you’ll be dust."

  Ryan tried to speak but couldn’t get a sound out and wasn’t pulled any further. He was brought to his knees so that he sat upright and the bag was pulled from his head. The light blinded him as if he was staring directly into the sun, at least as long as they held his head. As soon as he was released, his head fell forward and Ryan’s eyes paused, soon taking half-blurred note of the varied patterns and the fine, burgundy threads of an expensive-looking carpet. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw someone else kneeling beside him, but he wasn’t one hundred percent sure if that was really the case. Without the sack and as time went on, however, he could better make out sounds as a woman above him let out her soft but grave voice.

  "A good evening to you all," the woman said, walking past Ryan at one point. More than her waist was not visible of her, but she was clearly wearing a cherry red evening dress that was free to the knee on the right side and not too tight. "And I thank you all for coming in such numbers, when it is one of those nights when many prefer to stay in the shade. Unfortunately, circumstances left me no choice but to call this meeting, for one of our most sacred ws was broken today."

  Law broken? Ryan didn’t understand the world. If there was one thing he could say about himself, it was that he had always been an upright, righteous man. So what should he have done? And the police certainly weren’t doing this.

  "I sense the doubts of some here, but the accused was caught red-handed," the woman asserts, moving a little to the side where the alleged other person was kneeling and harsh words were spoken. "And even after initial questioning, Julia Perkins refuses to expin the reason for her actions, when we all know that under absolutely no circumstances is it permissible to pass the dark gift during a blood moon."

  Julia? Dark gift? At least Ryan could remember the first thing. He had met a beautiful, warm-hearted woman named Julia in a bar today. Was she here? Next to him? He strained as hard as he could and shifted his head and eyes millimetres to the side - indeed, there she was.

  Julia remained in a simir pose, but she was not held by a single hand. It seemed much more as if she was in a kind of trance or not present at all.

  Ryan could make no sense of it. His thoughts were fuzzy, but he was quite sure that he and she had not taken any drugs or anything like that, which would expin Julia’s condition. At least he assumed Julia hadn’t taken anything. Sure, alcohol had been flowing properly and he had smoked a harmless Johnny, a joint, in the toilet of the club, but Ryan had experience with light drugs and they had long been legal. A little weed would never have such an effect on him and gradually, Ryan was able to get a better look at the woman who was still retively unknown to him. He only saw one side of her, but he could still remember the rest.

  Julia’s condition did nothing to change her attractiveness where there was not one noticeable thing on her rosy skin that could be called a blemish. Her hair was like dark fire, shorn short in stages on the left side, giving the impression of different, red hues. On her head and right side, on the other hand, it was more like her hair was perfectly smoothed, reminiscent of the wings of a bird that had put on its magnificent wings for a swoop, with the tips of its wings touching the back of its head. But it wasn’t just her hair, for Julia’s eyes, made up with purple around the edges, radiated self-confidence. Not in the way of belligerence or arrogance. You just looked at her and knew she was more likely to buy you that first drink than vice versa if you treated her kindly. Added to this was her attire, which was a smart mix of loose evening wear and rocker, with an ash grey leather jacket whose sleeve only went to the elbow on the right side.

  "Julia," spoke the woman who had earlier thrown a serious breach of the w into the room and she stopped facing the accused. There was a lot of weight in her words. "Let no one say that the Lady of Great Kingston would not give one a chance. At least to speak up. Not that that will save you from her punishment, for the ws are too clear and strict about that. Perhaps, however, we can understand your reasons and remember you with dignity when you speak." The strange woman in the red evening gown squatted as pyfully as if her tight clothes did not exist.

  Ryan saw her now at eye level, a young beauty who could hardly be older than 30 and possessed a pale cocoa complexion. A little thin she might have been, but for that Ryan stiffened as his gaze crossed with hers.

  It was only a fraction of a second, but the stranger’s deep blue eyes seemed made of ice, transparent and devoid of any feeling, framed by long bck hair. Her gaze, however, was entirely on Julia and she raised her delicate wrist towards a wooden stake.

  What the?!, ran through Ryan’s mind. Yes, there was indeed a stake stuck in Julia’s chest, which he only noticed now, also because of her concealing jacket.

  The stranger wrapped her nky fingers around the stake and pulled it out as if it were no effort and rose back over the kneeling woman. "Here’s your chance."

  What followed was a heavy cough from Julia, with no little blood firing from her mouth and staining the fine carpet. All at once though, she could suddenly move again and how she could. "Lady!" she said hot-temperedly, and had to be powerfully restrained by the hands that were now hastily gripping her. When Julia realised that there was no escape from her sitting pose, she calmed down again and her voice went into a normal, but still unruly, manner. Julia did not seem to be afraid. "Many of you have been in the night too long to understand me, nor do I give you the satisfaction of knowing why I did what I did." Steadfastly, she looked up at the so-called Lady and did not dignify Ryan with a gnce. "But I know how devious some of you can be and I will say this one thing very clearly - no one knew and no one helped me in any way. It was me, all by myself, who fathered a new child that night!"

  As Ryan sank more into perplexity with each new word, the dy lifted her chin and seemed to look up to a far higher position before her eyes fell back on the accuser, slightly annoyed. "So this is how you want to be remembered? A disgrace to our society?"

  "If I’m significant enough to be remembered, go ahead," Julia smirked bitingly. "It’s good to know that in some, dusty minds, I will live on forever."

  "You want it that way?! So be it!" the dy announced measuredly, turning meaningfully yet so elegantly to the opposite side that the hem of her dress swung along. It was briefly visible that from her right wrist a long strip of fabric went to her waist and was part of the coverlet she wore over her shoulders. "Dear congregation, you have seen and heard for yourselves: no understanding, no hope, but as Julia Perkins has her attitude, so will the Tenebrae answer: no understanding and no mercy."

  Ryan would have liked to say a word to Julia, who was visibly defeated and surrendering to her condemnation for whatever. In general, Ryan would have liked to speak, but although his senses were sharpening, he could not move his lips or any relevant muscle.

  "But we are a just and w-abiding community," the Lady said, presenting her hands, in a sort of inviting and supplicating posture. "Your Honour, the floor is yours."

  Whoever was now addressed came slowly to the red evening gown and stopped for a moment in front of it. His get-up was less spectacur and more everyday. "Of course, Lady Gardner," spoke a too friendly sounding, but soon harsher male voice, as the figure likewise waved around, sounding entirely like someone doing his duty. "Our dy speaks the truth. Witnesses have been interviewed and the clearest evidence is right next to Julia Perkins. We can all see it, smell it, feel it. The burgeoning darkness beginning to manifest in this young man, equal to that of his mother and those same, emerald green eyes."

  Emerald green eyes? Had Ryan missed something? He had always had light brown eyes and smell? Feel? Mother?! Was his mother here?! Suddenly Ryan could stir a bit, a huge improvement on the st ten minutes, and he could see a lot of things.

  Wherever this pce was, there were plenty of tables, mostly with two pairs of chairs, and to say the décor was luxury and swank would have been an understatement. Further back there was a double door painted snow white, like you would see in restaurants and there were men and women spread out everywhere, maybe around 30 to 40 and everything was given: Fine liveries, regur, rockers, bankers suits, punks, even a mechanic?

  Never before had Ryan seen a single person from this bunch and he lost the strength to maintain his gaze. Still, a sound reached his ears, an astonished murmur from the crowd.

  "His power is showing," the judge said, pointing at Ryan. "Just one more piece of evidence, but it doesn’t need any more and our ws are unbreakable in this matter. I hereby confirm the legitimacy in this case and that Lady Gardner is acting justifiably. My sentence as judge of Great Kingston, is death." After pronouncing this final fact, the judge departed.

  Death?! Are they going to kill Julia right here and now?! Ryan had to be having a bad dream! He couldn’t expin this situation any other way and raised his eyes again as far as he could.

  Lady Gardner asked. "My dear Dalia, be so good as to bring me the sword."

  In response to the request, a woman came to the scene, who not only impressed with her good six feet, but also appeared quite strong physically. An Amazon, that was the most apt description, and wrapped in a transparent bck silk cloth, she truly carried a sword.

  It was a longsword, its bde as wide as the palm of a hand and gleaming like a mirror, but although it had a certain elegance despite its size, it seemed nothing special. Only the golden seam spiked round pommel stood out, with a focused eye on the blood red ruby set in the centre. Its aggressive shape was almost tantamount to a mockery of the holy cross of the church, and around the gemstone was a symbol that was just difficult to recognise, like that of an important noble house.

  "You are ever a faithful servant to the Tenebrae and to me," Lady Gardner smiled at Dalia. "Execute the sentence and let order return to our society."

  "As you wish, my Lady," Dalia replied, her eyes closed and her posture respectfully modest. She was clearly taller than the Lady and yet she obediently submitted to her before Dalia grabbed the two-handed sword and stood parallel to Julia’s right cheek.

  If Julia had been defiant before, now she offered no resistance as she was bent forward a little and she stretched her neck voluntarily.

  Not a word was uttered, nor was there any audible movement in the audience, and Dalia took a wide circur motion from behind.

  Ryan could not watch this and dropped back into his paralysed stance so that all he could hear was the clean cut. Fortunately, no head rolled to his feet, but suddenly he heard a sound as if someone was pouring sand and for a few seconds, ash apparently flew before Ryan’s eyes, still filled with a faint glow before the particles disappeared altogether.

  "And so the eternal night sts," Lady Gardner pronounced mantra-like, crossing her arms in front of her chest, but it didn’t st long. Now her eyes narrowed and the cold stare took on an added note of deliberation. "But we are not done yet, dear community. The child remains."

  Ryan understood that, for he was meant, and he watched as Lady Gardner now came to him and extended her hand to his left arm. She pulled something from his left side and all at once, he was able to stir. However, the men behind him were holding him tightly and, as with Julia before, Ryan now saw a wooden stake in Lady Gardner’s hand. Had that been stuck in him?! "What’s-?!"

  "Shhht," came softly from the Lady. She looked deep into his eyes and put her index finger to his lips and as if by magic, silenced the confused man. She then rose to speak calmly and with understanding to the audience. "Now, however, we are in conflict. The ws are clear: reborn in darkness, every child is pure. It is against our order to kill an innocent child, but we all know how blood moon children have been treated normally for thousands of years. Let us not let this child suffer any longer than necessary and give him peace. All this, is not his fault."

  That didn’t sound good at all and Ryan wanted to scream, but he just couldn’t. He heard his own words in his head, but they wouldn’t leave his mouth, let alone move his lips. He could continue to move the rest of his body, but his guardians effortlessly applied the necessary force and kept him pinned down, but at least he could now look around properly.

  Suddenly one of the watchers puffed appraisingly. "I certainly hope the Lady of Great Kingston isn’t doing this because she’s superstitious."

  The phrase sent an indecisive murmur through the ranks of those present and Lady Gardner folded her arms in front of her stomach in consideration. "Do you mean to contradict my suggestion, Mr Forkner? Or how may I understand your statement?"

  "Exactly as I meant it - are you superstitious?"

  "Hardly, why?"

  "For thousands of years," Forkner repeated in a way that could be interpreted as a subtle provocation. It somehow suited the stranger sitting on a recliner, whose get-up was a cross between a tanned gigolo and a businessman, with some jewellery on his fingers, an extravagant gold chain around his neck and an open evening shirt, with a discernible chestline. The cssic barrel cut of his hair, went along with the neat full beard and every strand on his head was dark, turning to a light grey towards his face. "Did I miss something? A new famine? A sor eclipse? Or the new war in the Middle East? Is that this blood moon child’s fault, just like the old days?"

  "So that’s how it is," Lady Gardner smirked as she probably understood what the man had meant earlier and calmly expined herself. "Of course, we no longer live in times when every disaster is bmed on the unknown or we fearfully behave like an animal. I just wonder why you spoke up? Do you have any desire to take this child into your family?"

  "No, my new duties as a patriarch fully engross me," Forkner denied with a grateful wave of his hand. "That is why I cannot take on this responsibility."

  "And why else would you question my proposal and compare it to blind faith of the past?"

  "That’s what it is, the past. I consider myself a progressive vampire," Forkner asserted, as if washing his hands of the matter. Had he just said vampire! "It’s long past custom to kill a blood moon child. Not to mention it’s against our ws."

  Lady Gardner refused to be drawn out and thrust her right hand almost presentationally on her hip. "Well, we haven’t had many, known blood moon conceptions in the st 300 years either."

  "You said it," Forkner agreed, making a finger pistol. "In fact, I’d like to remind those present that the st known blood moon child was also spared 67 years ago and pyed a significant part in helping us drive the Eyes of the Apostles out of Britain."

  Blood moon child? Eyes of the Apostles? Vampire?! Ryan just had to be in the wrong movie and although he could move and tried with all his might to get loose, he did not move an inch, nor did he look like he was stirring the slightest muscle. What he did hear, however, was the sound of breaking stone, under the carpet.

  Lady Gardner gnced back at the detained man and sighed artificially, apparently feeling disturbed by Ryan. Or was the tone directed at Mr Forkner? "The question is - who would take the child?" she addressed them all, spreading her palms in front of her stomach as if waiting for an offer. "Not you, Mr Forkner, and understandably so. After all, you have so much to do as a fresh patriarch."

  "I thank you for your understanding," Forkner replied sympathetically, but it sounded like political politeness. Not that he and the Lady were tearing each other apart with looks, but there seemed to be a certain rivalry in the air. "You of all people, as a Lady, know about the greater good of the community, which is why I actually have to reiterate my concerns: should we really break our ws that are thousands of years old? Vampires of the past were not as enlightened as we are, so perhaps they can be forgiven for that, but today? Please. Nowadays we know why the moon turns red on nights like today, why there are droughts or pgues and that nothing in this world is determined by higher powers. Only by persons who really have power."

  "I must confess my confusion, Patriarch Forkner," Lady Gardner conceded, giving the man a look as if a trap had just snapped shut. "If we are so enlightened, why do we follow ancient ws, such as no children being conceived on a blood moon?" This question seemed to tilt the mood in the audience in the Lady’s favour and a victorious smirk formed on her lips before it suddenly stopped.

  "Order," Forkner replied, equal to an audacious counter-attack that didn’t even elicit a teeny bead of sweat from him.

  Stopped in her triumph, the corners of Lady Gardner’s mouth quivered in anger for a few seconds, but a matte line quickly formed on her lips. "Order ... a word, a strong word. Only, what could you possibly mean by it?"

  "Whether vampire, human, even werewolves live by rules. We need rules," Forkner cemented, pressing his pointedly extended index finger repeatedly on the back of his chair. "And the Tenebrae doesn’t have that many rules. So if a rule says - don’t father children on a blood moon - and someone does it anyway, that someone doesn’t recognise our society. Would it have killed Julia to wait a few more nights? Or to do it before that night? Certainly not. So to punish this young man for that is absolutely wrong."

  Now the mood among those present finally tilted in favour of Forkner’s proposal. It was not an uproar, but Lady Gardner probably had little choice. "I see we all want to be more progressive - so be it," she agreed, and with her authority once again spoke her final trump card. "Only, who will take the child? For this is the condition I set. The child lives if someone takes care of him." Lady Gardner’s gaze was iron, piercing through the crowd, and at one point, she even lifted her head. "Patriarch Stein, you are so silent. After all, Julia belonged to your house and you are known not to abandon yours. Was this child supposed to be the exception?"

  Ryan only now stretched his head higher with the Lady’s gaze, and had not been aware before that this rge, round-built room could be seen from above.

  An open railing of bright polished bronze separated the upper areas from a lintel and more tables with pairs of chairs could be found there. One could see down from two storeys, although these tiers were hardly occupied by spectators.

  There was, however, one, characteristically conspicuous man. Lady Gardner’s question was directed at him, but he seemed introverted, like the calm itself, and perhaps it was due to the upper location, but his chin was raised as if he stood above everyone. "Mine are dearer to me than anything else in this world, that is an open secret," spoke the stranger, whose voice was deep and memorable, like a storyteller. If everyone in the room so far did not look really old, this man’s features alone reflected experience and wisdom. His face was carved out of stone, with wrinkles and furrows in prominent pces and a tight, long bridge of the nose. Silver-grey, straight hair formed a balding crown on his head and if these were truly vampires, the dark brown cloak, stuffed with broad, dark-red shoulder pads and a chin-high colr, most closely matched the image of such a creature. "But in the same way I expect obedience from the children and dependents of my house. Were I to take charge of Julia’s child, it would send the wrong signal to my House and the Tenebrae. House Stein of Nassau, will not tolerate such behaviour, even though Julia’s loss pains me."

  "Wisely spoken, as I have come to expect from Patriarch Stein, and since no one seems to want to take on this child, the only thing left to do is-"

  "Excuse me, Lady Gardner," came a young female voice accompanied by a French accent from the audience.

  The dy’s ears must have been incredibly sensitive. "Vivienne," Gardner said with compressed lips, taking in the far corner, next to the double doors. "What would a chronicler like to contribute to this case?"

  "To make a suggestion."

  "Oh, instead of observing, you’re actively intervening? That’s unusual, so I’m very curious. Speak."

  "Too kind, dear dy," Vivienne thanked. So far back, she was hard to make out, but she came forward as she spoke, walking along between the tables. Graceful and small she was, wrapped in a bck tex jacket that came to her knees. Snow-white skin adorned her face, half hidden by the brunette parting of her long, fringed hairdo, and her devilish red eyes, were like the antithesis of Lady Gardner’s ice blue. "I agreed with Patriarch Forkner. Our ws are clear and Julia has received her punishment. Killing this man would only show how backward we still are and that is not befitting when you are at the top of this world." Vivienne didn’t go all the way to the front, but she didn’t need to. Her voice alone was sweet honey, so all attention was on her. "So how about the Tenebrae herself taking care of the child?"

  So far Lady Gardner’s fa?ade had been mostly solid, but this statement made her left eyebrow move higher. "When you say Tenebrae, you mean me, because in Great Kingston I represent the Tenebrae ..."

  "That’s what I meant to say, Lady Gardner."

  "I always thought you were a woman of facts and sought the truth," Gardner doubted, losing a little of her composure. "How would that look if I agreed with that? Patriarch Stein spoke wisely when he gave the reason for his refusal. If I were to pce the child under the protection of the Tenebrae now, would I be rewarding Julia’s crimes or how do you see it?"

  "An understandable point of view, no question," Vivienne replied, putting her index finger thoughtfully to her lower lip. There was also something pyful and teasing about it. "But I see it more as you would set a good example. Perhaps Patriarch Forkner was right. Not as far as you are concerned, of course, dear dy, but perhaps the others present here are hesitant because a little superstition still resonates somewhere. The messengers of disaster, blood children who bring us only misery and suffering. The way I see it, as the leader of this city, you should take the chance of being progressive and if it bears fruit, the rest will definitely be more open-minded in the future."

  This time the crowd kept a low profile, though all were reproached, and Lady Gardner smirked with an amused tone. "Suppose I say yes: what exactly do you have in mind? For I will not act merely to set a good example."

  "I expected nothing less. A test would suggest itself. If the child passes, he may live. If not, he will have died in his test or will await the judgment of the Tenebrae."

  "And if it fails, my name is tarnished because I said yes ..."

  "Not at all, Lady Gardner," Vivienne shook her head. Whoever she was, she took quite a discriminating approach to everything. "If the child succeeds, you stand for progress. If it fails, you stand for tradition, for you will uphold our ws and punish it, just as you spared it according to our ws."

  It truly sounded as if Lady Gardner could not lose and who did not like to have such a situation? "Indeed, I am for both tradition and progress," Gardner gave herself demonstratively and widened her arms. "So be it decreed. Should no one present raise an objection, I, as Lady of Great Kingston, will spare this child conceived under a blood moon in accordance with our ws." She waited a few moments, but there was neither a sound nor a stir among the audience. "With that, it is decided. This child will be pced under the direct protection of the Tenebrae for the time being and tested to see if he is worthy to walk the night. With that, I decre this meeting officially over."

  Ryan was less than the audience, who now rose one by one in orderly fashion and left the hall. He was just an object, an it, to these people. That much he had witnessed, but he was safe and a brief relief came over him, despite the lingering tension. At st Ryan did not see many people and raised his eyes.

  Lady Gardner stood before him. "My dear Mr Saunders," she said, and a man who, although wearing an expensive-looking business suit, complete with matching briefcase, resembled an elderly gravedigger in appearance, stepped wordlessly beside the dy. "Be so good as to organise everything and stop Vivienne ... She brings the proposal? She is taking the child to his new home."

  "As you wish. I will arrange everything necessary, Lady Gardner," Saunders replied, indicating a slight bow, with his right hand pced across his chest, bringing with it a certain butler attitude. "Dalia, go after Vivienne, please."

  "Of course," the Amazon nodded, even though she seemed reluctant to do so. Before she did so, however, she wove the rge, bloodless sword back into its noble bck cloth sheath and went after Vievienne with the weapon in her hands.

  "Excellent," Lady Gardner sighed, as if she had completed an exhausting shift of several hours. She bent low and again pced her finger on her prisoner’s mouth so that her eyes were retively close. "If you can speak again in a moment, you will behave yourself throughout the night and obediently obey everything Mr Saunders tells you to do. Would you do that for me?"

  Suddenly, all panic and sense of escape drained from Ryan’s body and mind as he looked directly and so closely into the strange woman’s eyes. Every word of hers penetrated Ryan’s hearing clearly, but almost in a whisper, and every sylble seemed to him pure truth to be obediently obeyed. "I’ll be no trouble and I’ll listen to Mr Saunders, Lady Gardner."

  "Good child," she smiled. But that was merely a gesture, for she looked to the guards and gave orders as if all her senses had been offended. "We’re done here. Make sure a cleaning crew cleans my restaurant of every crumb Julia left behind and that the workers get rid of that disgusting smell some guest brought in. That some people are vampires. Urgh, it stinks in here."

  And so it came to pass that although Ryan was still on his knees, he was let go and had his freedom.