The Gondin household appeared deserted.

Sitting in a row of stately buildings, the manor had once served as a seat of power for a brilliant and shrewd businessman. Albert Gondin built his business around managing the riches of other men. He was singularly gifted at creating wealth from more of the same; it was no surprise that his own station in life rose to match his clients' profits. The manor he built in the heart of Sinith, where every piece of land was worth its weight in gold, stood as better proof of his abilities than any advertisement.

The grandeur of Gondin Manor was in no way diminished. Nonetheless, there was something palpably missing behind its noble shell.

Valeri Beaufort paused with his hand raised to knock. He listened intently, straining already exhausted senses. There was a single heart beating inside the darkened house. Its unsteady, harried rhythm spoke of an uneasy night.

Valeri let his hand fall. He used a great deal of force, hoping to draw attention swiftly and avoid peeping eyes from curious neighbors. The resulting echo reverberated with alarming intensity. Valeri took a startled step back. He glanced over his shoulder, conjuring opened windows and lit lanterns all around.

The night remained undisturbed. Only Zenith was there to scold him, the horse's large head nodding toward the door meaningfully. Valeri laughed under his breath.

"Fear's eyes are big, my friend," he said quietly.

Valeri was not adventurous by nature. Prior to his acquaintance with Ira Hale and the debacle that was his short-lived engagement to the false Silva Layfe, he spent his days in comfortable isolation from the world. There was nothing to fear in the halls of Beaufort Manor except the monsters that lived in Valeri's own head. He had made peace with them over the years.

It took three days to reach Sinith. Fear was Valeri's companion every waking moment. They moved at a frantic pace, keeping away from cities and roads and jumping at every shadow. Valeri had not known such misery even at the height of the war.

There was no Iavor Beaufort or Ira Hale to assuage his fears. At this moment, in the dark, Valeri was alone – save for a horse and a dead man. Neither could offer much in terms of advice, save perhaps for Zenith's sarcastic stares.

Footsteps came from inside the house. Valeri drew near just as the door parted open, a wan, gentle face peeking from within.

"Good evening, Miss Gondin," Valeri greeted.

He was prepared to force his way inside. His kind required permission to cross over a threshold, but this woman could not deny him entry. She had Valeri's blood in her body and he, her oath of servitude, freely offered.

Young miss Gondin did not attempt to run. She opened the door wide and stepped aside without a change in expression.

"You are here," was all the woman said.

She went further inside. The hallway was unlit, the dark thick like ink. When Valeri did not immediately follow her, she turned to look at him with raised brows.

"There is a night patrol due by soon. I would very much prefer not to be known for entertaining men late into the evening, if it is all the same to you," she said.

Valeri nodded briskly. "A moment," he said.

Dimitri lay slumped, the man's hands thrown loosely around Zenith's massive neck for support. Valeri retrieved him with some care. There was no need to make his own job more difficult by aggravating the soldier's wounds.

"Hide well, my friend," he bid Zenith in parting.

The horse snorted once, then trotted off down a dark street to places unknown. Valeri spared a moment's worry that the beast would find trouble for himself in the large city – horses were of value, and Zenith was without match among his kin. Valeri had no worry about Zenith suffering any injury. He was far more concerned with the possibility of alerting the Amith Capil to their presence via some foolish thief stomped into ground meat under Zenith's hooves.

Valeri carried Dimitri into the house. Miss Gondin finally displayed some emotion, her eyes darting from Valeri to the blade protruding from the soldier's chest.

"If I may borrow a bed?" Valeri asked, a touch impatient.

The woman shook out of her stupor. "Of course. This way," she said.

They passed through a large atrium, then down a corridor to what must have once been the servants' quarters. Albert Gondin ran a successful business for many years. His home was as stately as that of any noble, well-appointed for the comfort of both guests and the Gondin family.

The rooms they passed at present were barren. Valeri took in the dust and pale shadows of where furniture had once stood and sighed internally. It appeared young Stefan, Gondin's heir and inept successor, had not learned his lesson.

"This room has no windows," Miss Gondin said, urging a door open.

Valeri stepped past her to assess the space. It was indeed insulated against the sun, and in possession of a narrow daybed. Valeri dumped the soldier onto it without ceremony. He was then forced to rearrange the man's limbs, so they did not resemble a starfish quite so faithfully. There was a woman present, after all.

That done, Valeri turned to their hostess. "I would ask for your aid in a few matters. If you comply, my companion and I will depart promptly, and you would have fulfilled your promise to me."

"And if I refuse?" the woman asked.

"Then you will die," Valeri told her.

Miss Gondin watched him for a long, quiet moment. Her eyes slipped to the man on the bed.

"Death is less of a threat now than it was when we met, Lord Beaufort," she sighed softly.

She beckoned him to another room to talk. Perhaps she did not wish to remain between four walls with what was by all appearances a dead body. Valeri followed without comment.

"Would you care for some tea?" the woman asked.

She was busying lighting the hearth, the sleeves of her sleeping gown rolled back on account of the ash and grime stuck to the stone. Valeri watched her with detached interest from his seat at an old, scarred dining table that had once likely belonged in storage somewhere out of sight.

"I would prefer to handle business first, if you would be so kind," he said at last.

The woman paused. She put away the match she had prepared and turned from the hearth.

"Where is your brother?" Valeri asked.

"Yours was not the only gold my brother squandered, Lord Beaufort," Miss Gondin said shortly.

Valeri did not bother with empty platitudes. He had not a bit of pity for a man of the likes of Stefan Gondin. "And your old butler?"

Miss Gondin stiffened, a trace of anger and grief lighting her eyes at last. "He died, shortly after my brother's body was brought home. His heart could not take the sight."

Valeri watched her stiff back, lost in thought. Gondin senior was gone, as was his wife. With Stefan Gondin and the elderly butler dead and buried, the household was effectively empty. "Why are you still here, Miss Gondin?" he asked.

Miss Gondin's lips lifted in a mockery of a smile. "I was waiting for you, of course."

She continued without waiting for Valeri to offer a reply. "What is it that your lordship needs me to do?"

Valeri hesitated. In the end, there was truly nowhere else to turn. He was forced to go on as planned, concern for the woman's state of mind aside.

"My companion is need of medical attention. I seem to recall a doctor among the members of your household?"

"Doctor Han, yes. Unfortunately, he is no longer under our employ," Miss Gondin said.

"Are any of his apparatus still here?" Valeri asked.

"It is possible," Miss Gondin said after a moment of thought. "When Doctor Han decided to leave, brother – Stefan was not happy. He accused Doctor Han of all sorts of things, and refused to let him take anything from the house, saying that it all belonged to the estate."

Miss Gondin's voice grew smaller as she spoke. It was evident that she found the topic shameful. Valeri rather agreed, his opinion of Stefan Gondin deteriorating further. As he had an urgent purpose in mind, he could however not avoid pressing the issue.

"I will have to trouble you to check if anything remains," he said.

"His room was upstairs. Stefan had it locked; I think he was afraid that Doctor Han would come back and – I do not even know what it was he thought," Miss Gondin sighed. "You are welcome to accompany me; I would not know for what to look."

Valeri rose at once.

The Gideon household was two stories high, but the raised roof allowed for an ample attic space that could well be called a floor of its own. Miss Gideon led him there, then seemed to remember that a key would be needed only when the doorknob failed to turn in her hand.

"I am not sure where Stefan kept the keys," she said, embarrassed.

The fact that the room had remained locked since Stefan's passing raised Valeri's hopes of finding something of value inside. The rest of the manor had obviously been gutted in order to pay out whatever debts the household had incurred under Stefan's hand. Perhaps Doctor Han's quarters had been spared the disgrace.

"If you would allow me?" Valeri prompted.

Miss Gondin moved aside. The door was solid wood, as well-made as the rest of the house. Valeri exerted just enough strength to break the hinges. He moved the entire door out of the way and stepped inside the dark room.

Doctor Han had not been slighted in the least in being appointed such unconventional quarters. The attic spanned a good portion of the house's floorspace, arranged in spacious rooms for the doctor's use. Valeri walked through a study still waiting for its master's return. The desk bore papers and an opened ink jar, the ink inside long dry. There were books tabbed with notations, more still placed on the floor and on nearby surfaces. It appeared that the good doctor had been in the midst of fervent research in the moments before his departure.

"Are you certain that the doctor left at his own will?" Valeri could not help but ask.

Miss Gondin remained outside. She surveyed what she could see from her post at the door like someone looking at a ghost. Valeri supposed it had been some time since she had seen her home look the way it once did. Doctor Han's untouched rooms offered a glimpse into another life.

"He left shortly after my father's death. It was a sudden illness, and Doctor Han was so certain he would be able to cure him in time," Miss Gondin trailed off, eyes far away.

Valeri felt the doctor's misery keenly. It was never good to lose a patient, even when the ailed was a stranger. "I am sure he did all he could," he said, and resumed his search of the rooms.

Valeri was careful in his perusal of the doctor's belongings. He was able to locate the man's medical supplies quickly, on account of Doctor Han's good organization and Valeri's own familiarity with a doctor's office. There were rows of bottles tucked away in a shelf of drawers, neatly labeled for the use of the tablets and herbs they contained. Most were meant for the treatment of common ailments. Valeri picked a few out, thinking that they might come in hand during the soldier's recuperation. Provided the man survived Valeri's care, that was.

There was less in terms of equipment suitable for surgery. Valeri supposed that Doctor Han was not on call for such matters, uncommon as they were. He discovered a small, thin blade that would need to do in the stead of proper scalpel, along with medical scissors of respectable sharpness. Bandages and the like were thankfully available in abundance, although the spirit the doctor had used for disinfection was likely past its usefulness.

Valeri bundled the kit he had cobbled together in a blanket from the doctor's bed. One of the rooms was mostly barren, likely used for more sensitive work. Valeri briefly entertained the thought of utilizing the space himself. The wide window overlooking a shadowed garden put the notion to rest. The soldier was in a bad state, and there was no telling how long the surgery would last. Valeri was somewhat apprehensive of what he would discover once he cut the man open. It was best to be cautious.

"I will need your assistance," Valeri said, pace brisk as he descended the stairs.

Miss Gondin's steps paused audibly. Valeri suppressed his irritation and leveled the woman with a flat look over his shoulder.

"You will not be tasked with any unpleasant work. The instruments require disinfection; I will have you boil them in water, and then keep a supply of hot water coming as I work," he explained.

"As you say," the woman agreed.

She moved quickly, to her credit. The blade and scissors were ready by the time Valeri had wrangled the soldier from his shirt and strapped him to the bed with the help of a torn bedsheet, wary less the man's body thrashed in its unconscious state. He fed the soldier a pill meant to dull pain, massaging his throat until it passed down in lieu of swallowing. It was unlikely to do much against the kind of pain the man was to experience, but it was better than nothing.

Miss Gondin brought in a pot of steaming water and a small pile of towels. She drew back readily when Valeri bid her leave, keeping her eyes averted from the body on the bed.

Valeri took the blade in hands scrubbed pink from washing and moved to kneel at the soldier's side, the bed too low to allow him to stand. He paused with the knife raised over the man's chest. There was a bullet lodged in the soldier's heart. Valeri surveyed the unmarked skin. The entry wound had healed over, leaving behind a pale scar in the shape of a burst star. It, too, was already fading. Whatever power kept the man alive was insidious in its workings – repairing harm while keeping its victim powerless against more of the same.

Valeri made the first cut with a steady hand. The towel he had laid over the man's chest bloomed red immediately and grew heavier as Valeri worked, until it had to be replaced with a new one. Valeri moved with precision. His focus was absolute, extraneous concerns and doubts pushed aside.

The bullet was not difficult to locate. It had followed a straight trajectory, finding a gap between the soldier's ribs and burrowing into his heart. Miraculously, the bullet itself had not burst on impact. The muscle the bullet pierced had likely torn, but one would not know by looking. Just like the soldier's skin, his heart had healed around the intruding object. It would need to be cut apart anew to pry the bullet out.

A dry, earthy scent filled the room. Valeri's eyes watered minutely.

"Close the door!" he called, anger turning his voice severe.

Miss Gondin appeared almost immediately. "My apologies," the woman fretted, voice anxious for once, "I did not think-"

"Close the door, and smother whatever it is you have burning," Valeri interrupted, in no mood to listen.

Miss Gondin quieted promptly. She shut the door and departed, hopefully to do as instructed.

Valeri breathed a little easier. The woman was likely burning incense, possibly in an attempt to calm her nerves. Valeri could not tolerate the distracting scent at present. He was not a surgeon. His only experience with cutting bodies apart came from dissecting corpses during his studies, and while the soldier on the bed made a good imitation of one, his flesh lacked the corresponding stiffness and pallor. This was a living man, and Valeri had no wish to turn from healer to killer after all the effort he had already exerted on his behalf.

The bullet came out in a torrent of blood. Valeri discarded it in the bowl of water, the contents inside now dirty red, and set to extracting the tools he had used to keep the man's chest spread open as quickly and painlessly as possible. The gash he had made into the soldier's heart was healing as he watched. The muscle was making futile attempts at contracting even as Valeri drew the flesh around it closed and picked up a threaded needle.

"No need."

The words were soft, barely breathed. Valeri heard them nonetheless. He looked at the soldier's face and found a pair of unfocused green eyes staring back. A cold shiver went down his spine.

Valeri wiped his hands on a towel slightly less red than its brethren. He found the bottle of pain relievers and offered the man two pills.

"For the pain," he said.

The soldier frowned, but opened his mouth and swallowed the pills down nevertheless. The incision Valeri had made into his chest still gaped open. Valeri picked up the needle again and approached slowly.

"I understand that the wound will heal, but having it closed will help speed the process and protect from infection," he said.

The soldier watched him, weighing his words. Or perhaps simply trying to make sense of them, his disorientation obvious in the glaze over his eyes.

"Alright," he said at last.

Valeri worked quickly. He was somewhat skilled in stitching human skin, flesh wounds being the majority of severe cases he saw as Elsendorf's sole doctor in residence. There was soon a neat row of dark thread running down the soldier's chest, right over his heart.

"Where's the Captain?" the soldier asked.

Valeri did not pause the motion of his hands. "We parted ways some days ago. She entrusted you to my care until we reunite."

The soldier hummed in acknowledgement. "Figures. She was never one to sit and wait. Where are we?" he continued.

"In Sinith, the Gondin household," Valeri told him.

"Albert Gondin? The big-shot broker?" the soldier asked. He appeared to be coming into himself, his words rolling off more smoothly.

"Indeed," Valeri said. "His daughter is the only one with us at the moment."

"And why's she helping you? Vampire fetish?" the man asked.

Valeri snipped the thread and felt his own patience fraying. He was reminded that he did not particularly enjoy this man's company or his flippant attitude.

"She in in my debt, as it happens," he said flatly.

"You've got her under one of those oaths, don't ya," the soldier said. He did not wait for response, instead tugging at the restraints keeping him still on the bed, "Wanna untie me?"

No, Valeri thought sourly. He did so anyway, careful to keep out of immediate reach. The man was still weak, but dogs tended to bite most ferociously when cornered.

The soldier sat up slowly. The wound over his heart bled sluggishly, but already looked less inflamed. Valeri's eyes fell to the blade protruding from the man's chest. He had brushed against it inadvertently, both during their journey and as he operated on the man. His hand would slip over it, never quite touching, no matter how he concentrated. It was the most curious thing.

"Call her in," the man said.

Valeri blinked. "Miss Gondin?" he asked, although there was no one else the man could mean.

"Yeah. It'd be good for her to see you didn't dismember me in here," the soldier told him.

Valeri frowned, but he did call for their hostess. There was some truth to the soldier's words. He had not exactly explained himself to the woman – for all she knew, Valeri had indeed brought a dead body to her doorstep and then proceeded to cut it apart for some twisted reason.

The door opened slowly. Miss Gondin peeked in, her face immediately paling a few shades. Valeri realized that the room was hardly a pleasant sight with some delay. Unfortunate, but as the woman had already seen it all, he beckoned her inside.

"You are alive," Miss Gondin blurted upon finding the soldier sitting up in bed, blood-smeared and smiling. "What sort of creature are you?"

"All human," the soldier replied. "Why, you seeing other creatures around lately?"

Miss Gondin hesitated. She glanced at Valeri, then at the soldier. To Valeri's amusement, she took a step closer to the latter. "Ever since Sir Beaufort b-bit me. I have been noticing them, all around – it is not only vampires, is it? There are others?" the woman asked. Her voice trembled as it had not in Valeri's presence.

"Mhm, lots and lots. What's your name, miss?" the soldier asked.

"Natalia Gondin," the woman said.

Valeri was somewhat ashamed to realize that he had not known Miss Gondin's given name. It was common courtesy to ask for it, after all, and he did try to keep up an illusion of manners.

"Did his lordship assault you, Miss Gondin?" the soldier asked evenly.

Valeri almost struck the man. His furious glare sent Miss Gondin skittering even closer to the bed.

"Not – not exactly," the woman said.

She recounted the night Valeri had forced her to choose between her freedom and her brother's life. Her account was truthful, if a little more dramatic than Valeri's recollection. Then again, her viewpoint on the matter was rather different.

"I see. Then, your debt is now paid in full, is it not?" the soldier asked. He looked at Valeri, as did Miss Gondin.

"Naturally," Valeri snapped. "I do not go back on my word."

"Lift the blood oath, then," the soldier prompted.

Valeri did not reply. Had he been mortal, a flush would have surely risen on his face.

"You don't know how, do you," the soldier said flatly.

Valeri wanted to hiss at the man to watch his tone, but the soldier carried on before irritation won over embarrassment.

"Never mind, I will do it. Miss Gondin, if you would please approach? I fear my mobility is still a bit impaired."

Miss Gondin looked at the man carefully, and then – took a step back.

"It is fine," she said.

Valeri swallowed his pride. "Miss Gondin, I am willing to lift the oath, but my companion is more skilled in the practicalities of the process. If you wish to be free of my influence, you will need to trust him."

A blood oath was a simple and crude way of binding a mortal to a vampire. The vampire would imbue the mortal with their own blood, which would turn to poison if the oath was broken. The oath required explicit consent and clear parameters; even so, it was often abused. Valeri was certain that the Amith Capil had methods of counteracting the oath and its effects.

Miss Gondin shook her head. "I do not think," she began.

"Catch her," the soldier said calmly.

Valeri did not mean to listen – the words had not fully sunk in, in fact, when Miss Gondin spun on her heel and made a break for the door.

It was a simple thing to apprehend the woman. She struggled and shouted, but her thrashing did more to hurt her than harm Valeri. He gathered her wrists in one of his hands and reached for the collar of her dress.

"Monster!" the woman spat, just as Valeri pulled the fabric away to reveal a bruised web of swollen veins where the oath bite had once been.