JACK

The court of Cardona was a crimson place, wrapped in dark red colours, with curtains hanging from the ceiling adding formidability to plain, stone tables, darker than stone should be. The throne in the back of the room was made of black marble, shining in the light of the candles, every piece of it carefully crafted.
Candles were everywhere, hanging from the walls, resting on the tables, giving the feeling of warmth to the cold stone. Daylight didn't often come through, only at certain points in the day, but the place wasn't designed to astonish during day. During the night, moonlight lit the floors, mixed with candles, adding a touch of nostalgia to the place. But not the nostalgia for what once was, but the nostalgia for the place in front. When a man stepped into Cardona halls, he knew he would miss it, it would haunt him for the rest of days.
The terrible beauty of stone walls and dark woods surrounding it, the woods haunted by things forgotten to the eyes of men. Cardona was a place of souls roaming through, leaving traces of their past lives in the shadows of blinking candles. It was a place of terror, yet love.

And so was the Queen, Jack O'Neal thought, drinking in the sight in front of him. Jack pulled the rope he was holding on, the same rope five girls and two boys were tied to. They were still human and Jack had absolutely no trouble pulling them around. All seven were fifteen years old, or at least they looked like it, poor and very dumb. They were sweet, though, Jack thought, like fresh peaches, flushed and not yet ripe. Their cheeks were wet with tears, almost as tasteful as their rich blood. For the past few weeks, Jack has been taking care of them, feeding them regularly so they would grow some flesh on those tiny bones. Now the time has come, to let go of them, for they will be shipped off to Venice soon. Jack dragged them across the stone floor and tossed them in front of the throne and finally threw a glance at the Queen.  Since he came to Cardona after the incident with Giselle, Jack hasn't dared to come before his Queen.

At first he could not see her face, for there was a little girl in her lap and the Queen was drinking straight from her neck. All Jack saw was blood spilling from the girls neck straight to the breasts of his Queen leaving stains on her rose-coloured dress. She pushed the girl away when she was done.

"Go, clean yourself up, little fairy." She told her, her voice sweet, yet poisonous. That's exactly what she was, Jack thought. Then, Lerra looked at him. Her red hair was dirtied with blood, it was dripping from her lips, down her chin and straight into the slit between her breasts.

"They are too old," she said, looking at the fresh peaches Jack brought, "we cannot keep them human for long."

"They are fifteen, they will be fine. Also, they will be ready for adult games later." Jack contradicted her.

"All the games are adult games. Put them on the next ship." Lerra's eyes were of dark, deep green colour, like grass growing in the shadows of trees. Her face was elegant, as if it were from another time, a time where pain and love and beauty ruled.

"What I do to keep Faliero happy, it is absurd." She murmured.

"It is necessary, we need his support." Jack said.

"He's an insufferable bastard."

"Who has refused to come, my Queen, to the ball."

Lerra laughed and it rang through the courtroom like a menacing midnight bell. Jack felt something stirring in the background, behind the candles, where many rooms were.

"We don't need him coming to the ball." A voice came from the shadows and a man stepped into the light. "Faliero is an honest man, he can be persuaded by whores, money and perversions of all kinds. Others lie and need to be persuaded by dancing, balls, music and flowers, like they aren't twisted bastards in their core, like they are worth the efforts."

Jack smiled, but the smile was tight, he couldn't stand the self-absorbed wolf that now stood before him, his smug attitude and his ability to make the Queen laugh.

"Don't pretend you know thoughts of Night-Children, wolf." Jack said, almost spitting the words, feeling his blood pump. But the man was calm, laid back. His light brown hair fell on his shoulders, carelessly as the rest of him. As always, he was dressed in light, beige servant's clothes made of cotton. Jack hated that, the way he dressed in servant's clothes and still radiated more power than men dressed in gold and silver jewels and rich fabric. The truth was, the wolf was powerful and dangerous, even. And Jack didn't trust him, he didn't trust the mischief in his eyes, the malice behind the smile.

"Years of observation can do wonders," the wolf said, coming near the throne. Lerra smiled lazily at him and Jack read the signs, he's seen them many times before, but the wolf didn't seem to care that she wanted him. Jack has seen him roaming through the castle with whores on his arm many times before, but he didn't want the Queen.

"I thought you'd been north for years, not here observing my people." Lerra said, her voice sharp, but playful, she's been teasing him on purpose. The wolf smiled.

"I've been observing some people. And you'd find that wherever you go, people aren't that different, although we like to believe we are somewhat special."

"Night-Children are a proud people." Jack suddenly claimed, irritated. Perhaps it was the wolf smiling like a mean cat, but Jack felt the urge to fight. Jack would lose, he was aware enough of the wolf's strength to know that possibly nobody ever picked a fight with him and walked away. He wasn't a big man, he was built like a warrior, but he wasn't particularly tall. When he wanted, though, he turned into a wolf larger than anybody.

"Pride is such a foolish trait, sounds useful, but all it does is cloud the truth." The wolf said to Jack and the Queen smiled reluctantly.

"Enough of this," she said suddenly. "I don't have time to discuss which species is better, partly because one member of the most powerful one has been made in the east, thanks to Jack's inability to keep his petty romancing in check."

Jack sighed, his feelings stirring way too much through this entire rendezvous.

"The girl's been made, she's not even a possible threat anymore." He said, tired of this old conversation. He makes a mistake and Lerra hates him a bit more every day. He wasn't even sure why he kept trying.

"She's an inconvenience, one I don't appreciate. I told you to kill her. Not only have you not been able to do that, but your actions led to her becoming immortal." Lerra sat on the marble throne looking down at Jack. Her hair has somehow seemed redder than usual.

"If she's a Night-Child, she cannot be a trickster." Jack said.

"I don't care what she is, what concerns me is who she is. I don't want her roaming around saying how she's the daughter of the most powerful witch that's walked the earth in the past two hundred years or so. Somebody will hear it and she'll end up collecting patrons, revolting against Monarchy and rich feudal vampires, witches and whatnot." Lerra's rage was apparent, but Jack thought it might be the aforementioned vampire pride talking.

"People hear Leona Solberg's daughter is alive, they might think the tide's shifted." The wolf said.

"Be quiet, sailor." Jack roared, tired of the smug wolf, but he simply laughed, untouched. "Why don't you make her an ally?" Jack asked the Queen. Lerra threw a glance at him, irritated.

"Because she's French," she nodded towards Jack, "I've doomed myself enough by including an Englishman into my business."

Jack decided to ignore that.

"Listen, Lerra, I've met the girl. If she has power in her, she might be useful. She doesn't know who she is, what she wants, but one thing is certain," Jack paused, wanting to enhance the words he's saying, "she doesn't like the system, she wants to fight against it."

"Listen, Jack," Lerra's voice roamed through the halls of Cardona.

"You've known her for three days before you decided to take her out of Carcassonne, alive and well, hoping I might spare her life. Which means that this girl, one you claim knows nothing, managed to convince you to save her life, without actually begging for it, in the time span of three fucking days. And you have the nerve, the fucking nerve, coming here, saying she's done that by pure luck."

"I made a mistake!" Jack shouted, suddenly hungry, not for blood but for death. "But she might be useful, Lerra, she has a direct line to Vlad Draculesti, who still hasn't answered your invitation."

"Oh, that's another thing. Instead of at least taking her here, you let her somehow end up in Bran. Of all the places in the world, you let her go to the only man capable of anything in the entire Monarchy. Now, Dracul can teach her moral, righteousness and goodness, then she'll certainly want to join me and my devilish agendas."

"There's still time, if she comes to the Winter Solstice..."

"You are right about that," Lerra interrupted him, "you will go to Bran and you will bring her here for the Winter Solstice Ball and I will decide what to do with her."

Jack smiled angrily, biting his lower lip until he tasted blood on his tongue.

"I don't have time to go to..."

"Send letters, I don't care, send an invitation specifically for her. But make sure she comes."

Jack felt his blood stirring and he felt the need to flee out of there before rage took him over. It had happened before, Jack snapping in the middle of a conversation, biting the first thing he sees. Jack pulled the rope the girls and boys were tied to and led them out of the castle. Sun blinded him when he walked out and he could smell fresh morning air which soothed him. Cardona weather was mild in the autumn, winters weren't terribly cold and spring was beautiful. Only during summer a man couldn't stand being there.

Getting out of the main hall, Jack ended up on a balcony looking over vineyard hills spreading to infinity. In his peripheral vision, mountains grew in the distance, far enough to seem beautiful instead of frightening. There was a village under the castle, human and vampire combined. They knew about each other, which Jack simply wasn't able to comprehend. Lerra was their queen and they were under her protection. During the night, an outsider could never enter Cardona without introducing himself and announcing his arrival.
Bandits, intruders and others that wished harm upon the Queen, ended up dead in front of the castle walls. Sometimes simply frozen, their eyes open staring into something as terrifying as death, sometimes half-eaten, sometimes killed in the good old-fashioned way, their hearts stabbed or cut out.
Lerra never said a word about what was going on outside Cardona walls, but Jack felt in his heart she had something to do with it.

"Contemplating your miserable existence?" Jack heard behind him and the wolf stood there, his arms crossed, leaned onto the door.

"Is lurking around all you do, Roua?"

"Sometimes I'm sneaking around, too," he came closer and stood next to Jack, looking over the vineyards. "Tell me, what is it exactly, that this girl you've found in Carcassonne had to give you, that our Queen here couldn't?"

"What makes you think it was anything?" Jack asked knowing that the wolf was right. He fell into a female trap like many times before.

"You willingly disobeyed your direct order. You would never do that because you are loyal to your Queen, except if this girl had something that Lerra didn't." Roua started walking around pretending to be deep in thought, while Jack stood there looking over the fields. He was tired, he's been tired for years now. Jack was a 122 years old vampire, born in a different time, missing the different time.

"Now I know it wasn't the sex, because we both know Lerra is fulfilling wishes like a genie. It was something else, something Lerra refused to do." The wolf turned to Jack and looked at him. His sharp, green eyes shot him like blades, shining in the morning sun. Time for the offense, Jack thought.

"She buys your act, dog, but I know the truth," Jack started, his heart beating louder. "You come off as an explorer, finding new lands, brining exotic herbs and spices and somehow, everyone believes you. But I see the wolf following you around, the one that used to be your friend, that used to be a man. Tell me, what happened in the north? Why did the werewolf that went with you come back as a regular wolf, unable to transform? You found something, didn't you? Or somebody. And Devan Roua, a man who's spent most of his life roaming the world on his ship, uninterested in vampire affairs, comes back after 50 years spent in the north and suddenly desperately wants to serve a vampire?"

Devan looked at the fields again, a light smile planted on his lips. It amazed Jack, how he always seemed calm and carefree, never letting anything on, never showing his true feelings. It's occurred to Jack that he really doesn't care.

"I will give you a piece of unsolicited advice out of the pure goodness of my heart. If you think you know something about somebody, the best thing to do is probably not tell them. Now I will forget what I heard, because you obviously didn't know you were making a mistake." Devan turned to Jack again.

"You think your threats scare me?" Jack asked.

"I don't threaten," Devan said. "I'm more of a 'coerce' kind of guy. And I believe you can benefit more if you get on my good side."

"I don't believe I can get anything from you, dog." It was the pride, realised Jack. He was a vampire and Devan was a werewolf, a species so low they don't even deserve to hold a place in the food chain.

"Suit yourself." Said Devan while turning to walk away.

"You think highly of yourself when you're just a lackey."

"It was the child, wasn't it?" Devan asked and Jack stopped breathing abruptly. "The girl Lerra sent you to kill, she said she wanted a child, am I right? That was the only thing you wanted more than Lerra."

"You don't know what you're talking about." Jack's words were fast, he half-hoped Devan wouldn't hear him.

"Oh, in the name of all the Gods of the Past World, you believed her," Devan burst out laughing like a child that's been told a joke. "Oh, you miserable, poor man."

Unable to stop himself, holding onto the one single hopeful thought, Jack shouted into the wolf's face, "Giselle didn't lie!" Rage was fogging his thoughts, his heart cracking like it did the day Lerra told him she would never bear his children. "I spit on your gods! I spit on your people! You think we're the same? We're not. You're all beasts, you'll never be able to reach the holiness of Night-Children. That's why we've been murdering you for years before the weak vampires reached the throne. You don't deserve to breathe the same fucking air we do. A time will come, when a strong leader will sit on the throne of the Monarchy, the one who won't spare you or your pathetic offspring. We will kill you in your sleep, we will kill your children while they still drink from their mothers' tit. We will use you as blood bags, we will walk you around like the dogs you are." Jack's ears were buzzing, he didn't hear anything except his own voice in his head, a voice telling him to kill the wolf right now, to tear his throat out. Pain, vivid and glittering, filled his head, his neck, his chest.

And the wolf stood still, even calmer than before, his eyes staring straight into Jack and his lips forming an amused, half-smile.

It meant nothing to him, Jack realised. The wolf honestly did not care about Jack's words, not one bit. And Jack suddenly felt small and scared. Who is this man? This man that is so above the insults that hit everybody else straight in the heart?

"Gi-selle," Devan repeated, emphasizing the syllables. "Sounds tempting, I must admit. Perhaps, when you bring her here, I'll have a taste of her." The wolf turned away, starting to leave.

"You will not touch her, dog!" Jack shouted.

"You call me dog a lot, when you're the one doing the fetching." Devan said, smiling, and Jack felt anger filling up inside of him again.

"I will kill you, beast." Said Jack, completely sure of his words. He was mad, hateful. He knew he had no certain reason to hate the wolf before him, but he would pay for all the misfortune that's ever happened to Jack.

"No," said Devan, his voice mocking. "You will go get a princess and I will go serve the Queen." And with those words, he left Jack standing on the balcony.

For a few moments, Jack heard nothing but those words clinging to the air around him. Then, slowly, he heard birds again and wind whistling. He took those children still tied to a rope and led them to the merchant that would put them on a ship to Venice. Jack would've done that himself but he wasn't allowed to come near the sea because of his dispute with Faliero. The same reason him and Giselle weren't able to come to Cardona by coast but had to cross the Pyrenees. The same reason she wasn't here now but stuck in Bran Castle.

When he shipped the children off, he went to his carriage and quickly wrote an invitation that was to be sent directly to Giselle. He would find a Messenger sometime during the night.

"Where to, Mr. O'Neal?" Asked the carter.

"Take me to London, I need to see Lord Bryce. It's time the Monarchy knew what is going on here."