Sara adjusted the high collar of her blouse, buttoned up all the way as to cover her neck as much as possible. The S.P.E.A.R Director was far from afraid of the vampires but disliked the leering looks at her neck that most vampires gave her.
She was meeting with the Nightwell Family, the largest of the vampire clans that survived the Long Night. The Family was headed by Lord Robert Nightwell, being over 1000 years old made him by far the oldest and most powerful of his race, his family is descended from the Old Bloodline and as such he has the most power in the vampire world.
Sarah’s armored escort came to a stop at an impressive old castle style mansion on the mountains above the city. She got out in front of the thick black, wrought iron fence that served as the entrance to the mansion’s grounds. She waved away her armed soldiers as she was the only one in S.P.E.A.R allowed inside.
The gates opened and she was met with a young woman wearing a fancy maid uniform, her black hair was pulled into a tight bun. She looked like your average maid but her pale skin betrayed her true race. The maid bowed and spoke in a deceptively soft and quiet tone,
“Greetings Madam Director McMillan. My master is honored to have you as his guest. Please proceed with me, a carriage will deliver you to Lord Nightwell.”
“Of course.” Sarah replied cordially as she got into the luxurious horse drawn carriage. She was slightly irked by the seemingly pointless extra steps it took to have a simple meeting, plus the servant’s addition of ‘Madam’ to her title. All this pompous ceremony was aggravating but to be expected of creatures that lived forever.
They arrived after almost ten minutes of riding through the expertly maintained forest that lead up the hill towards the actual building.
The director was led to a side building that was just as architecturally marvelous as the main building and arrived at what looked to be a dressing room.
“What is this? Where is Nightwell?” Sarah demanded in frustration.
“Oh my lady, it would be so ungallant for you to appear before LORD Nightwell in such a state. As such a more appropriate set of attire has been prepared for you.” The maid explained as she presented the woman with a fancy chest.
Sarah rolled her eyes with a groan,
“This is not necessary, I simply need to ta—-“ she was cut off by the maid who now appeared along side two other maids.
“I am sorry Madam Director but this must be done if you are to meet with the head of Family Nightwell. You wouldn’t want to offend Lord Nightwell would you?” She said almost condescendingly.
Sarah sighed in frustration but reasoned that if she wanted to get to the bottom of these recent slaughters she needed to speak with Nightwell, and if that meant getting dressed up by these undead servants then she would just have to bear it.
The maids got to work changing her into a deep pinkish floor length dress with black lace around the low swoop neckline. The dress had long sleeves that poofed out at the shoulders and laced in the back. She was strapped into shiny crimson high heels with straps that curved up her calves.
The vampire maids even freed her hair from its usual tight bun and styled it into a middle parting with slightly coiled ends, subtle makeup that was light enough that her warm human complexion was still apparent.
The director was slightly embarrassed and could have sworn this outfit was specifically designed to limit mobility.
Once she was redressed the first maid led her from the dressing building through the impressively ornate heavy main doors of the mansion and into the main foyer. As she was escorted up the grand staircase she could see the vampires leer at her, all dressed up like a thanksgiving turkey ready for devouring.
All the vampires were decked out in fancy and expensive looking clothes, they were drinking blood from ornate glasses and partying in a sophisticated manner.
After walking three flights for red carpeted stairs they arrived at an imposing set of doors, the maid opened them and motioned for Sarah to enter with a bow,
“Lord Nightwell, may I present Madam Director Sarah McMillan.” She announced.
The human entered and the door was closed behind her. Before she could react he had suddenly shifted towards her like a shadow.
Sarah looked at the vampire she’d heard quite a bit about; despite being over a thousand years old he didn’t look a day over 40. His salt and pepper hair was styled into a James Dean style, with gray streaks near his temples and an immaculately groomed beard gave him a distinguished look. His skin was chalky like his kind but his eyes were dark red with black
sclera, a feature only the most powerful of vampires possessed. He wore a black and red three piece suit under a long crimson overcoat that was patterned with gold trimmings.
Lord Nightwell took her hand and kissed it like the gentleman he styled himself as. Sarah was too surprised by his speed and stealth that she hardly had time to react to this ridiculous display of faux chivalry.
“Madam Director, I’m charmed, truly.” His voice southing yet she could detect an underlying evil and malice.
“Yes, well now that I’m finally here we have things to discuss.” She said as he returned her hand to her.
“I must say, you are much more pleasing to the eyes than your predecessor.” He said as he eyes her up and down.
Sarah shivered at his gaze and couldn’t tell if he wanted to sleep with her or drink her blood, or both.
“I wasn’t aware you knew Director Carnell.” The human woman asked.
Former Director Joseph Carnell was the head of S.P.E.A.R, he was a hunter before becoming the director and had a strong anti monster views and even was a sympathizer for The Normal. She found it odd that someone like him would have associated with Lord Nightwell.
“I make it a point to meet the directors of S.P.E.A.R.” The dark haired man responded.
He motioned for her to take a seat in front of his ornate desk, no doubt it was hundreds of years old. The head vampire sat opposite of her in a more extravagant chair.
“Mister—“ she began but was quickly cut off.
“Lord Nightwell, if you don’t mind.” He corrected.
“Lord Nightwell, I’m here due to a string of incidents that we believe involve a vampire.” She explained, annoyed at his insistence on using his proper title.
“Well it I can assure you its not one of my family, we prefer a more subtle approach. Besides who cares if some nobody is going around making a mess.” He said.
“Because our intel suggests that a very powerful vampire is committing these acts, perhaps one of the Old Blood.” She suggested.
“I don’t think so, there’s only three of us left who are of the Old Blood. There’s myself, Lord Marcelo D’ombra, and Lady Eveline Roseblood. And it’s not possible for any of us to be responsible.” He retorted.
“Why do you say that?” Sarah questioned.
Lord Nightwell turned slightly in his chair to gaze at the night tree line, with a sigh he answered,
“Because I know for certain I would never do anything so crass and careless. Marcelo is too young, the youngest of the Old Blood, his power mainly comes from hos vast wealth and status. And Lady Roseblood never leaves that frozen, Siberian castle of hers. I should know, we all keep tabs on each other, each one of us has claims to the throne.” He explained.
“Maybe I believe those two couldn’t have done this but I don’t quite believe you.” Sarah shot back.
Lord Nightwell leaned back in his chair and a slight grin came across his admittedly handsome face.
“You know old Carnell and I had a sort of understanding. I hope that you and I can have a similar understanding, maybe an even more intimate understanding.” He said, suddenly behind her.
His cold pale hand enclosed her warm hand. She quickly slipped her hand to her chest and looked down, she was reminded of the ridiculous dress she’d been stuffed into. This entire conversation— no this entire meeting was beginning to feel like a bad idea. Sarah had decided to just get out of this place and use what information she’d gathered, maybe speak to the other of the two vampire lords.
She got up and made her way to the door as fast as she could in the high heels she was wearing. Somehow the door opened for her and she was greeted by the same maid as before.
“Oh and before you leave…” he said now facing the window, not bothering to look back.
“… there are rumors amongst the lower bloods, a ghost story more accurately; tales of a woman, of the oldest of blood, stalking the night skies. ‘The Mad Queen’ some call her.”
The woman looked back momentarily.
“That is all Madam Director, I do hope you’ll do me the pleasure of visiting again.” He finished.
With her master’s approval the maid escorted Sarah out to the carriage.
“Your…clothes, have are inside if you wish to change, Madam Director.” The undead maid spoke.
Sarah got in the carriage without another word and proceeded to remove the gaudy dress and shoes she’d been forced into. She changed back into her pant suit and tried to tie her hair back into a tight bun but her new ringlet curls made it slightly difficult.
As the horse drawn carriage made its way away from the foreboding mansion, Sarah began to plan her next move.