The sound of a door closing woke Violet from her fitful sleep. Her hands shot out to push herself up from the stone floor as the musky scent that belonged to Daniel reached her.

"How can I help you, Daniel?" the sarcastic question left her dry lips as she straightened to face him. She would not have spoken to him at all except that no one had entered the cottage in two days, no one except the guard who took her outside to take care of her bodily functions, but he had refused to speak to her.

The hunger that gnawed at her stomach was easily ignored, she had gone hungry many a time. 

The waiting was driving her mad.

"Have you come to kill me then?"

Daniel laughed as he circled her, "I knew I recognised you that first time we met, but I put it down to the circus...My mistake, but then who would have guessed? I was almost sure she would kill you. She spoke of you ill enough."

Violet tensed, "What are you talking about, we have not met before."

Daniel laughed some more, "Ah but we did. If I recall correctly, you were hiding under a table at the time. You don't look much like your mother, no wonder I didn't pick up on it earlier."

Memories of a kitchen table and a doll came thundering back. She knew the scene well, had seen it in many a nightmare. And the man in the kitchen. She had been trying to see his face the day her mother caught her spying, the day she went blind.

"Lady Dewberry raised you well, slayer. But not well enough, since you failed to kill Patrick," Daniel clicked his tongue at her in mock regret.

Violet concentrated on her breathing, trying not to let her emotions show on her face. How had Daniel known her mother? The woman hated blood drinkers! And why did he sound disappoint that she had failed in killing Patrick. Nothing made sense!"

"What are you saying? How did you know my mother?" Violet asked. Did he know about Ismail, about her father? Did he know who her father had been?

"So many questions from such a little girl," Daniel chuckled.

"What do you know about Ismail?" her tone was becoming louder, more frantic. 

"Relax Lady Violin. I know you meant to set that trap for Ismail, I read your mind before you went off to hide yourself in the room that night. But you see, you are in Northern Clan territory and Patrick is the bigger problem here, so I sent him to you instead. You should be grateful!"

Violet clamped her jaw against the need to swear. It was his fault, everything that had gone wrong...his fault.

"You are angry? But of course, I suppose you adopted your mother's hatred for that particular Vampire. I always suspected that there was a personal vendetta there. An affair gone wrong, perhaps? Was that it? Did he jilt your mother?"

She was silent, trying to control her rage. When he continued, his shrug apparent in his voice, "But none of that really matters does it? I have a proposition for you, little slayer."

Wavering between the need to lash out at him and the need to find out if he knew more about her father, Violet decided to go along with his false conclusions and appease him.

"I am listening."

"It seems you are quite handy with a knife," Daniel touched her elbow, trailing his fingers down until they touched hers. She hid a shudder of disgust. "And we are in need of someone who can use a knife."

"We?" she asked as casually as he chaotic emotions would allow.

"Ah, yes, you will have assumed that the True Vampires disbanded after our leader Sergey was killed," Daniel leaned forward, his lips only inches from hers, his breath hot on her skin. "We are still here, and the deal we gave your mother stands for you. Kill for us and we will spare your life when Vampires rule the world."

When Vampires rule the world.

Violet shivered, she could feel the evil rolling off Daniel's body, could hear the tinge of insanity in his voice.

"Who do you want me to kill?" Even asking the question made her feel sick. She was no murderer not matter what anyone thought. She had spent her entire life chasing a murderer down so she might extract revenge. 

Revenge was not the same as murder, nothing like it.

"Why the same person you failed to kill before, my dear. Lord Patrick Bruce, Leader of the Northern Clan of Vampires. You see, all clan leaders must die so our ways can prevail."

Patrick was the Leader of a clan of vampires? The blood drinkers had clans? Everything Daniel said only led to more questions in her mind. She held out her hands.

"Fine. Then give me a knife, Daniel."

Violet had no intention of killing Patrick. In fact, she had every intention of warning him about Daniel and the True Vampires whoever they were. But, if she got a knife, she would first do everything in her power to kill the bastard who murdered her father.

"Oh, it is not going to work like that my dear slayer. You have to convince Patrick of your innocence and get yourself out of this mess first. If you can do that, you will be useful to us and we will initiate you. Then we will help you find a fool proof way of killing Patrick and many more." He took two steps away. "If not, well then, I'll be watching your execution."

The heartless words echoed in the little cottage as Violet thought frantically. She needed a plan, needed to stall him, needed to know more!

"When?"

"When, what?" Daniel's scent came from further away now. He was leaving!

Violet said the only thing she could think of, "When will I be initiated?"

"I will contact you with a time and place. Just get yourself out of here first."

Violet nodded and then stepped forward. She had to ask one more question, just one. "Do you know why Ismail hated my father?"

Violet held her breath, waiting for the answer she had been asking herself for over fourteen years.

"You're father? Your father was a gardener. Lady Dewberry introduced us once, she thought I would find it as amusing since the man had no idea you were his," he stopped, then chuckled. "I see you did not know. Well, no matter, you were better off not knowing. The last time I went up there, two years ago I think it was, the servants were in mourning. Several workers had died of a fever, your father included. Anyway, why would you think Ismail hated him? I don't think Ismail hates anyone. He's a mystic of some sort, it's quite sickening."

Having said all he would say, Daniel opened to door, letting the winter air blast into the small cottage. The loud thud that marked his departure fell on deaf ears.

Violet lowered to the ground and curled into a ball, rocking like she used to when she was a child. And then she threw up, retching miserably while one thought turned round and round in her head.

Her father had died two years ago from fever...Ismail hadn't killed him.