Chapter Text
The sun had begun to sink from bright yellow to a bruised orange as the day bled into the evening.
Lamps were being extinguished in some homes while elsewhere, many others had just awoken to start their night. Among those waking was a certain blue-haired fiend.
It had been an eventful start to the night for the nobleman, Scott Goldsmith.
He was woken from a week-long slumber by a loud uproar, far too excessive to ignore.
He stretched lazily, spine arching until a sharp crack echoed through the room, exhaling as if it was strenuous work.
Not that he needed to breathe, but it was a human habit he’d never quite managed to shed after all these years as a vampire.
"You're finally awake."
Looking down, Scott noticed one of his incipients, or human fledglings as others would call them. Incipients were humans that worked under vampires either hoping to be eventually turned, used as a bloodbag, or for their own personal reasons.
"Abolish, what is that horrible noise?" Scott scowled, hanging upside down from his position.
The butler, who was sitting down at a desk writing something in a journal, set down his quill as he looked up, seeing Scott in his bat-form.
"I believe it to be the townsfolk." He replied curtly.
He would've congratulated the vampire on his new accomplishment of staying in his bat form the whole week he was in vampiric slumber, but he already knew it would probably fuel his ego, so he opted to remain silent.
Abolish had been human the entire time he served Scott—by choice, of course. That alone set him apart from others who only served in hopes of being turned eventually. The day that really solidified them growing closer was the week after Abolish had first started working for him.
It was the first time they were introduced after he'd entered the noble’s service. At first, Abolish had thought him spoiled.
He didn’t think that anymore.
The first week tested his patience.
Scott was particular, demanding, and careless with human limits. Abolish had nearly quit.
Then Scott returned one night barely upright, blood soaking as it darkened his clothes, one arm held stiffly at an unnatural angle. There was no triumph in him, no satisfaction, only the dull controlled focus of someone forcing himself to remain standing.
Abolish took him in without a word. As he cleaned the wounds, he noted what Scott did not say. The direction of the gashes, the absence of preparation. And then the blood beneath Scott’s fingernails, dark and unmistakably not his own.
Scott had fought back. He was not one to fall easily.
A massacre had occurred. Of that, Abolish was certain.
But it had not been sought.
Scott never explained, never justified himself. He only allowed the butler to work.
From that night on, Abolish stayed.
"Why are the townsfolk so loud?" Scott glared toward one of the enormous windows, all of them still hidden behind heavy curtains.
Abolish shrugged, as he rose from his seat, crossing to the window, drawing the curtain back just enough to see the commotion outside.
A mob crowded the bridge below. Faces unfamiliar, pitchforks and torches raised as the sun dipped beyond the hill behind them.
"It seems you've managed to anger some people. I can't say if they're the townsfolk," Abolish said, scanning every face for any familiarity. "But they don't look friendly."
Scott groaned.
There was a brief flutter of wings behind Abolish, then a soft thud as the bat-form vanished and a vampire stood in its place.
“Everyone in town adores me,” Scott said matter-factly. “So who are these miscreants?"
Unfortunately, Abolish silently agreed with this statement.
Stepping up to the curtain, the vampire scoffed upon seeing the mob on his bridge. "Is this their attempt at intimidation? Measly pitchforks and torches?"
The crowd outside the window erupted, a wall of voices crashing together as the manor lord appeared.
Torches flared and pitchforks thrust upward, flames and the jagged steel tips swaying with the shouted threats. One torch rose higher than the rest, its fire licking the night air while a hundred voices hurled insults, their stomping shaking the stone beneath them.
One torch swung too close to the stone railing, sparks scattering across the bridge, and a shout went up as someone stumbled over another’s foot.
They were disorganized, desperate and Scott’s amusement deepened.
He stepped forward and pushed open the window with a deliberate creak. The cool night air spilled into the room, carrying the scent of smoke and sweat as his voice, calm and cold, rolled out across the bridge.
"Why, hello,” he called, low but carrying, each word measured. “Do you all really think you can frighten me?”
Abolish stood just behind him, silent as ever, eyes scanning the crowd. He noted the uneven spacing between the men, the hands gripping torches a little too tightly, the nervous twitch of a few shoulders trying to hide fear beneath anger.
None of them had the coordination to breach the manor, but he didn’t need to say that. He already knew.
From the mob came a sudden shout, half a challenge, half a panic. Someone lifted a pitchfork higher, waving it as though that made them dangerous. Scott didn’t flinch; instead, he leaned slightly out of the window, letting the shadows gather around him like a cloak, his presence stretching across the bridge like a living warning.
Abolish’s eyes flicked over every detail. The gap in the mob’s left flank, the uneven weight distribution on the bridge, the slight hesitation in those who shouted the loudest. He already knew which ones would break first.
Scott’s lip curled in amusement. “Careful,” he said, voice smooth and cold. “You wouldn’t want to hurt yourselves before I even greet you all.”
The mob’s roar wavered, a ripple of uncertainty spreading through them.
Abolish remained unmoved, hands clasped behind his back. He didn’t intervene, didn’t need to, the message was already clear: the manor was untouchable, and the lord within it, untouchable still.
Most froze under Scott’s gaze, but one figure stepped forward. Calm. Collected. Unlike the others, she did not shout, wave a torch, or lift a pitchfork. She simply stood, shoulders relaxed, chin high, eyes fixed on the manor.
Her presence made the others falter.
Whispers ran through the crowd, nervous murmurs and uneasy glances. Though none spoke her name aloud, everyone knew who had brought them here.
Scott leaned slightly out of the window, curiosity flickering across his features. “Ah,” he said, voice smooth, amused. “And who might you be?”
Abolish stiffened beside him. He did not know her, yet something about her made his chest tighten. Something wrong like the quiet was warning that something was off in a way he could not name.
Thankfully, he has served Scott long enough to trust his gut feeling as he peered down at her.
The figure tilted her head, lips curving in a faint, knowing smile.
She said nothing, yet the quiet carried weight, a pressure that seemed to press against the stones of the bridge and the shadows of the manor alike. Even Scott’s smirk faltered slightly at her presence although he didn't show it.
And for the first time that night, the wall of voices behind her fell almost completely silent, as if the mob sensed the calm before a storm they could neither see nor understand.
As she strolled closer towards the manor, she revealed something she'd be carrying.
In her hands, was a folded parchment.
She made no move to throw it but somehow a sudden gust of wind carried it upward, tumbling through the air and landing neatly on the windowsill in front of Scott.
Scott arched a brow, leaning slightly out of the window. “Well,” he murmured, amusement flickering across his face. “How convenient.”
Abolish remained in the shadows, quiet as ever.
Even from a distance, he noticed the unnatural precision of the paper’s landing. It was too deliberate and controlled to be a coincidence.
Scott picked up the parchment, eyes glinting with curiosity. “A message..” he said, glancing briefly at Abolish. “Let’s see what this is about.”
Abolish stepped forward, still in the shadows, as he was handed the paper. He unfolded the parchment carefully, holding it close as he scanned the neat, precise writing.
Scott leaned casually against the window frame, one elbow resting on the sill, eyes glinting with curiosity but clearly unwilling to do the work himself.
“Hmm,” Scott murmured, voice smooth, amused. “Well, read it aloud, why don’t you? I’m far too entertained to strain my eyes.”
Abolish’s lips pressed into a thin line. The words were deliberate, measured, but they carried more than just information, they carried intent.
He read steadily, spilling the information on the paper quietly since he knew the manor lord could hear him.
Scott hummed in appreciation, tilting his head. “I see,” he said lazily. “I wonder why she took effort to write it instead of confrontating me to my face.”
He smirked, glancing back down at the woman like he already knew why.
Abolish’s eyes flicked to the figure at the front of the crowd as well.
Even through the shadows, he could feel the calm purpose in her stance. There was precision in her movements, confidence in her quiet authority and something… unspoken. He didn’t know what it was yet, but he knew it wasn’t ordinary.
Done reading the message, Abolish folded the parchment back carefully and handed it to Scott, who merely smiled, tilting his head.
Understanding, he turned on his heel, heading straight towards the fireplace, throwing the paper in, as the information on it was too dire to keep.
“Thank you, Abolish,” the nobleman said, voice light, teasing. “You always make the tedious parts seem so… professional.”
Abolish’s jaw tightened ever so slightly as he walked back to Scott's side. He did not speak, but his mind cataloged every detail, every posture, every glance, every subtle signal from the front of the crowd. Whoever this was, they were dangerous in a way that mere mob anger could never be. And he intended to understand exactly how.
Scott leaned back against the window frame, letting the murmur of the crowd drift below like distant static. His eyes, however, never left the woman at the front.
“You,” he called casually, voice carrying over the mob without strain. “Tell me, what is it you want?”
The woman’s gaze met his without hesitation.
“I am here to deliver a message,” she said, her voice even and precise. “It concerns your rulings and the repercussions that may follow. I was sent so that there would be no misunderstanding.”
Scott hummed, a faint smile tugging at one corner of his lips. “Ah. Direct and polite.” He leaned one elbow further on the sill, tilting his head lazily. “And I take it you’ve been briefed well enough to know what I already understand?”
Her eyes flicked ever so slightly, a micro-gesture unnoticed by the crowd but caught by Abolish. “I have,” she said simply. “They requested... clarity. So, now I am here to deliver it.”
Abolish’s hand brushed lightly against the curtain on the windowsill as he observed, noting how the woman managed the tension of the mob without appearing to. He couldn’t yet understand the full weight of her words or the depth of her precision, but he felt a subtle pull in the air, a quiet authority that demanded attention without force.
Scott’s smirk deepened, lazy amusement shining in his eyes. “Well then. I hear you,” he said lightly. “Your message is clear, and so is your intent. Consider it… noted.”
Abolish watched as he straightened, brushing imaginary dust from his coat. “Anything else to add, or is that the sum of it?”
The woman held her stance, perfectly still. “That is all. I’ve delivered what was requested,” she said, tone measured, leaving no room for misinterpretation.
"Very good. Efficient, and polite. I like that,” he said, turning from the window.
"You could learn a few things from her," he teased, glancing at Abolish who looked far too serious.
"I will now do this of my own accord."
Both Scott and Abolish heard her words, quiet but carrying across the bridge. In the next instant, the woman moved subtle and precise.
Abolish looked at Scott who grinned, watching as the woman gave a signal.
Torches jostled, pitchforks tilted, and the mob began to press forward as if drawn by an invisible tether.
Scott leaned lazily against the sill, smirking. “Well, well… someone doesn’t like to waste time,” he murmured, amused. “I do hope she’s as clever as she is direct.”
Abolish didn’t hesitate. Though still human, he moved swiftly through the manor, down into the crypts alerting Scott’s fledglings to the approaching danger.
There were only 3 in the manor at the moment, so it'd have to work for now.
“Louis! Upstairs, Scott’s manor is under threat,” he called quietly but urgently, keeping his voice calm. “We need to secure the entrances and be ready. Something’s coming, and it’s not just a crowd of townsfolk.”
Louis, one of the newest fledglings stood up, alert, as he nodded immediately. “Understood. Lead the way.”
Abolish inclined his head. “Follow me. Get in position, and keep your eyes open. We protect the manor, and you all have to prevent them reaching your sire.”
The other fledglings stirred nervously, unsure what to do, but Abolish gestured toward key corridors and staircases, pointing out vantage points where they could watch for movement. “Stay near the windows. Keep the doors covered. Don’t engage unless necessary. Wait for my signal.”
Even as he moved through the halls, Abolish’s mind cataloged every detail; the mob outside, the woman at the front, the subtle way the crowd obeyed her. Scott might not care, but Abolish couldn’t allow the manor, or its lord, to be caught off guard.
He squared his shoulders, determination hardening his movements. He was human. He was outmatched. But he would not be outwitted.
Louis moved first, quick and sure, already slipping into the role Abolish needed him in. He took position near one of the tall windows overlooking the bridge, eyes sharp, posture ready.
Abolish followed, stopping just short of the light.
He peered out carefully, keeping himself out of view. The mob had drawn closer now, their movement less chaotic than before. They advanced in uneven clusters, but with direction, subtle and guided.
“She’s somehow controlling them,” Louis murmured, not taking his eyes off the bridge.
“I know,” Abolish said quietly. “That’s what worries me.”
He moved again, checking the main doors, the side halls, the stairwell that led deeper into the manor. Each route was mapped quickly in his mind, escape paths and choke points alike. He had never prepared for a fight, never needed to, but preparation, he realized, wasn’t the same as combat.
It was anticipation. Awareness.
The other two fledglings hovered nearby, uncertain. Abolish paused, choosing his words carefully.
“Stay close to the entrances,” he said, measured but firm. “If they breach the grounds, you slow them. Not recklessly. You buy time. That’s all. Make sure you all have blood bottles to refill health.”
They nodded, reassured more by his calm than by his authority.
From the window above, Scott’s voice drifted lazily through the open air, still carrying amusement, still unbothered.
Abolish didn’t look back. He trusted Scott to be Scott. That wasn’t the problem.
The problem was everything else.
Abolish returned to Louis’s side, watching the woman at the front of the crowd. She hadn’t raised her voice. Hadn’t gestured again. And yet the mob continued to move exactly as she seemed to intend.
“She’s careful,” Abolish said under his breath. “This isn’t a riot.”
Louis glanced at him briefly, then nodded. “No. She's only trying to pressure Sire right now.”
Abolish exhaled slowly, steadying himself. Whatever this was, it had been planned. And while Scott might not be worried, Abolish knew better than to mistake calm for harmless.
Not this time.
Running back upstairs, Abolish caught Scott sighing, the sound faint but deliberate, as he leaned farther out of the window.
“This is becoming dreadfully dull,” he called down, voice smooth and unhurried. “You’ve made your point. Kindly stop pacing my bridge before someone trips.”
A ripple passed through the mob. Not quite fear, not quite obedience. The woman at the front did not turn to them. Her attention remained on Scott, calm and assessing.
“You misunderstand,” she replied evenly. “This isn’t pacing.”
She lifted her hand slightly.
Abolish felt the shift before he understood it.
The crowd didn’t surge forward. It spread. Angling outward, cutting off retreat paths, testing distance. Controlled.
He moved without thinking.
Stepping closer to the window, Abolish leaned out trying to cover Scott as he anticipated the woman's attack.
But it didn't come.
Instead, the moonlight caught him, shining on him shielding the vampire manor lord.
The woman’s gaze snapped upward—not to Scott, but to him.
For the first time, her expression changed.
Not surprise. Not hostility.
Interest.
Abolish stilled, realizing too late what he’d done. His heart kicked hard against his ribs as her eyes lingered on him, sharp and curious, as though she’d just discovered something unexpected.
Scott noticed.
“Oh?” he murmured, glancing sideways. “Careful, Abolish. You’ve caught her eye.”
The woman tilted her head slightly, studying him now. “That’s curious,” she said calmly. “I wasn’t told you kept humans so… involved.”
The mob murmured at that, uncertain, but she didn’t look away from Abolish.
He straightened slowly, refusing to retreat, even as instinct screamed at him to step back into the shadows.
“I serve the manor,” he said evenly, like he was justifying himself. “...that’s all.”
Her lips curved, not quite a smile, but something close. “So I see.”
Scott laughed softly, amused rather than concerned. “He’s terribly useful. I’d advise against fixating on him.”
Her gaze flicked back to Scott at last. “I don’t fixate,” she said. “I take note.”
She lowered her hand.
The mob stilled.
Abolish exhaled slowly, forcing his pulse back under control. He didn’t know why her attention unsettled him more than the crowd ever could, but he knew one thing with absolute certainty.
Whatever this was, he had just become part of it.
The woman’s gaze lingered on Abolish a moment longer than necessary.
“You’re attentive,” she said, voice calm, conversational. “Most humans in your position hide when a crowd gathers at their lord’s gate. You stepped forward instead.”
Abolish held her stare, measured his breathing.
“Someone has to pay attention,” he replied, glancing at the vampire he still shielded. “Especially when others prefer not to.”
Scott laughed softly at that, the sound light but deliberate. He leaned farther out of the window, inserting himself cleanly back into the exchange.
“Oh, do be careful,” he drawled. “Flattery works on me but it might make him think you’re fond of him.”
Her eyes flicked to Scott, assessing. “Fond? No. Curious.” She tilted her head slightly. “He understands what’s happening faster than most. That makes him… relevant.”
Scott’s smile didn’t fade, but something sharpened behind it.
“And that,” he said pleasantly, “is where your curiosity ends.”
He straightened just enough to block Abolish from her direct line of sight, resting one hand casually on the window frame. The gesture looked idle. It wasn’t.
“You came for me,” Scott continued smoothly. “My rulings. My decisions. My town. If someone is to be watched, questioned, or weighed," his eyes gleamed, "It will be me.”
The woman regarded him for a long moment, then inclined her head a fraction. “As you wish,” she said. “But you should know, people like him change outcomes.”
Scott smiled wider. “So do people like me.”
Behind him, he lifted one finger slightly, not turning his head. The signal was subtle, almost dismissive, but Abolish knew it instantly.
Leave.
Abolish hesitated only a heartbeat. Then he stepped back, retreating into the shadows without a word, even as every instinct screamed to stay and watch.
He trusted Scott. He always had.
The woman noticed his absence a moment later. Her gaze flicked briefly to the darkened interior of the manor, then returned to Scott.
“Protective,” she observed, raising at eyebrow.
“Selective,” Scott corrected lightly. “Now, unless you intend to redecorate my bridge further, I suggest we conclude this little visit.”
The mob remained still. Waiting.
And for the first time since she’d arrived, the woman smiled.
The woman’s smile lingered for only a moment before it vanished entirely.
“Very well,” she said calmly.
She didn’t raise her voice.
She didn’t gesture broadly.
She simply spoke.
“Now.”
The response was immediate.
Torches flew.
Flames soared through the air and shattered against stone and wood alike, fire blooming where they struck. Shouts erupted, not wild, not panicked, but urgent and purposeful. The mob surged forward as one. Their pitchforks raised as boots pounded against the bridge, swarming the manor grounds.
Scott sighed, standing up straight.
“Well,” he murmured, already stepping back from the window, “I suppose that answers that.”
Inside, the manor came alive.
Louis was the first to move, darting forward with practiced precision as one of the doors splintered inward. He struck fast and clean, disarming a man before he could even recover from the breach. The other fledglings followed suit. Less graceful, but no less effective.
Humans were strong in numbers, but clumsy in close quarters, and the manor corridors narrowed every advantage they thought they had.
Bodies hit the floor.
Torches were kicked aside, stamped out beneath boots and inhuman strength.
Somewhere deeper within the manor, Abolish heard the crash of breaking doors and felt the heat bloom along the walls. His pulse raced, but he didn’t freeze. He moved, pulling tapestries down, smothering flames where he could, retreating where he had to. He trusted the fledglings to handle what they were made for.
And Scott?
Scott vanished.
One moment he was there, coat draped neatly over his shoulders, expression amused.
The next, nothing.
Invisible, he slipped through the chaos like a ghost, descending the stairs and into the corridors below. He moved faster now, more focused, his presence felt only in the aftermath.
A scream cut short, a body thrown aside, a torch extinguished mid-arc.
A man charged blindly down the hall and was suddenly lifted off his feet, slammed hard into the stone wall with bone-cracking force.
Scott appeared only long enough to smile.
“Really,” he said lightly, stepping over the fallen body, “you should’ve brought better tools.”
He blended in with the shadows this time, reappearing farther down the corridor as another group poured in, their confidence already crumbling under the precision of the defense.
Above, flames licked at the manor’s outer walls.
Inside, the corridors belonged to him.
As far as Scott was concerned, the advantage had already shifted. This was merely cleanup.
He moved through the manor like he was tidying up a mess someone else had made.
A man burst from a side hall and swung wildly.
Scott stepped aside without looking and hooked a hand into the man’s collar, spinning him neatly into the wall. There was a sharp crack, then a dull slide as the body folded to the floor.
“Honestly,” Scott muttered, stepping over him. “Indoors is a terrible place for this sort of thing.”
Suddenly, another came at him with a torch.
Scott caught it mid-swing, snuffed the flame between his fingers, and used the smoldering half to drive the man backward until bone gave way. He released him without thought and kept walking.
He didn’t rush. There was no need.
They came in groups, then singles, then none at all.
Each encounter ended before it properly began. Necks turned too far, throats opened, bodies dropped wherever they happened to be standing.
At some point, Scott began humming.
When the noise finally died down, he paused in the center of the main corridor and glanced around at the wreckage. Blood streaked the stone. Smoke curled lazily toward the ceiling.
"Mm... That should hopefully discourage repeat visits,” he said lightly, dusting imaginary lint off his clothes.
At the far end of the hall, three humans stood frozen, their silver weapons abandoned, eyes wide.
Scott noticed them, head tilting. “Oh?” He smiled. “I see my fledglings left dinner.”
He was among them before they could react.
When it was over, only silence remained.
Scott straightened and continued deeper into the manor, expression faintly bored. He passed broken doors, extinguished fires, bodies cooling where they’d fallen.
Then he saw Louis.
The fledgling stood near the wall, bloodied but upright, eyes bright and alert. He straightened when Scott approached.
“Ah,” Scott said, smiling. “There you are. Still in one piece, I see.”
Louis nodded once, swallowing. “Yes, sire.”
Scott’s gaze drifted past him.
His smile didn’t vanish—but it thinned.
Among charred wood and fallen debris, two bodies lay unnaturally still. Stakes jutted from their chests, pinning them where they’d fallen.
“Oh,” Scott said softly.
He stared for a moment, head tilted, as if considering a minor inconvenience.
“Well,” he added after a beat, tone light but no longer amused, “that’s irritating.”
His eyes flicked back to Louis, who was trying his best to stay upright.
Scott looked at Louis for a moment longer than necessary.
“You,” he said calmly. “Leave.”
Louis blinked once. “Sire?”
“You’re the only one still standing,” Scott replied, almost conversational. “That means you’ve done your part.” He gestured vaguely toward the far end of the corridor. “Get out of the manor. Don’t stop until you reach the treeline.”
Louis didn’t argue.
“Yes, sire,” he said, and turned immediately, moving fast but controlled, footsteps fading as he disappeared into the smoke and broken halls.
Scott watched his silhouette turn into a back and fly away, glancing once more at the bodies of the other two fledglings pinned to the wall.
“Shame,” he murmured, already losing interest.
He turned away.
That was when it tugged at him.
Not danger. Not fear.
Something… misplaced.
Scott slowed, head tilting slightly as he followed the sensation, not with urgency, but with curiosity, like a loose thread caught on the edge of his awareness. The manor above was settling now, fires dying, noise receding.
Below, something waited.
He descended the back stairs, deeper than the living quarters, past the rooms no one visited unless summoned. The air cooled with each step, stone giving way to older stone, the walls narrowing as the corridors stretched into the crypts beneath the manor.
The silence there was different.
Intentional.
Scott’s footsteps echoed softly as he moved through the halls, shadows clinging to the corners as though reluctant to retreat. He passed sealed doors, iron grates, old markers carved with names long forgotten.
Then he stopped.
At the far end of the corridor stood the woman.
Abolish was in front of her, one arm twisted back at an uncomfortable angle, her hand resting lightly at his shoulder, not gripping but also not forcing.
Holding him very still.
Scott took in the scene with mild interest, gaze flicking from Abolish to the woman and back again.
“…Ah,” he said pleasantly. “There you are.”
The woman’s eyes lifted to meet his.
“Lord Goldsmith,” she greeted calmly. “You took your time.”
Scott smiled, unbothered. “You have something that doesn’t belong to you.”
Her hand remained where it was. “Borrowed,” she corrected. “He was unattended.”
Abolish didn’t look at Scott. He kept his eyes forward, jaw tight.
Scott tilted his head. “You know,” he said lightly, “Most people don’t make it this far into my home.”
The woman smiled faintly. “Most people aren’t invited.”
The crypt seemed to tighten around them, shadows deepening as Scott stepped closer.
“Well,” Scott said, tone easy but eyes sharp, “now that you have my attention, do tell me what you intend to do with my butler.”
The woman did not tighten her hold when Scott spoke.
If anything, she relaxed.
Abolish stood rigid in front of her, one arm drawn back just enough to be uncomfortable, not enough to break. Her hand rested at his shoulder like a reminder rather than a threat. He stared at the stone floor ahead of him, jaw set, breath shallow.
Too still.
Too quiet.
Scott noticed immediately.
“Well,” Scott said lightly, eyes flicking to Abolish’s averted gaze. “That’s unusual. You’re normally quite eager to tell me when I'm at least standing too close.”
He didn’t respond to Scott's tease.
Didn’t even look up.
The woman smiled faintly. “I told him why I was here,” she said, almost conversational. “He didn’t take it well.”
Scott’s brow lifted a fraction. “What, no wayyy, I’m shocked.”
Abolish’s fingers twitched at the sarcasm.
“I have no interest in harming him. I made that clear.” Her grip shifted, not tighter, just firmer, more deliberate. “But he objected. Passionately.”
Scott hummed. “Yes, he does that.”
His gaze returned to Abolish, sharper now. The lack of eye contact was telling. Abolish never did that, not unless something had rattled him deeply.
“So,” Scott said mildly, “you’ve frightened my butler. That alone is impressive.”
The woman inclined her head slightly, acknowledging the compliment. “Then you understand why I restrained him. He insisted on interfering.”
Abolish swallowed, finally speaking, voice tight. “Scott—”
“Not now,” Scott said gently, without looking away from the woman.
That was answer enough.
The silence stretched. The crypt felt smaller for it.
The woman stepped half a pace closer to Abolish. Not to threaten, but to make the point unavoidable. “I came to negotiate,” she said. “You don’t strike me as a man who appreciates wasted effort.”
Scott smiled. “I loathe it.”
“Good,” she replied. “Then let us be efficient.”
Her eyes locked onto his.
“You have two choices.”
Scott waited.
“I leave this place,” she said calmly, “while you watch your precious butler die.”
A pause.
“Or,” she continued, just as evenly, “you die here and now.”
Abolish stiffened sharply at that, breath hitching. He finally looked up then—not at her, but at Scott. There was something raw in his eyes. Anger. Fear. Something else he hadn’t had time to name.
Scott saw all of it.
He laughed softly.
“Oh,” he said, amused, almost delighted. “Is that all?”
The woman didn’t smile this time. “Choose carefully. I will not repeat myself.”
Scott tilted his head, studying her as though she were a curious artifact brought up from the earth. Then his gaze flicked once more to Abolish who was still silent, restrained, but still standing.
“Well,” Scott said pleasantly, spreading his hands a fraction, “you’ve certainly come prepared. Bringing humans to my manor, not to mention destroying it.”
His smile sharpened.
“But you’ve made one rather bold assumption.”
The shadows along the crypt walls stirred, just slightly.
“That I would ever allow either of those outcomes."
The woman lunged.
Scott met her with a lazy grin, stepping lightly aside as she swung, his movements almost effortless. “Careful,” he murmured, voice teasing, “or you might hurt yourself.”
She didn’t flinch. Her strikes were precise, calculated, unrelenting. Silver sword met shadow, and Scott danced between them, arms and legs moving in practiced, inhuman fluidity.
“You fight nicely,” Scott said, almost conversationally, blocking a strike with his claws, flicking her off balance. “But I do hope you brought more than etiquette to this duel.”
Abolish’s restraint slackened. “Scott—!”
But the warning came too late.
With a swift, tactical movement, the woman spun out of Scott’s immediate line of sight, and a glinting dagger drove straight into Abolish’s stomach.
Time slowed.
Scott’s grin faltered, vanishing like mist in the sun. The teasing edge in his voice snapped.
“You—!”
The woman’s eyes widened, almost imperceptibly, as she felt the shift.
The laughter was gone. Gone from Scott’s voice, gone from the air around him.
Every muscle in him tightened. Every shadow seemed to cling closer, following his motion as he struck.
He moved faster than she expected, faster than thought itself, and before she could react, a violent, precise sweep of his arm sent her crashing against the stone wall. The world erupted into chaos as she hit the ground, unconscious.
Scott didn’t pause.
He was already at Abolish’s side, kneeling swiftly, hands moving over the wound. His eyes, calm but sharp as a blade, took in every detail. The blood, the angle, the slight pallor creeping across his butler’s skin.
“Stay with me,” Scott muttered, voice low but firm, almost gentle.
Abolish coughed, a weak sound, but he blinked up at him, trying to force a defiant line of words that never quite came. Scott’s hand pressed down where the blade had entered, his other arm wrapping around him, steadying, shielding.
And in that moment, the teasing, mocking, infuriatingly confident nobleman had vanished.
Abolish was someone who was hard to replace.
Scott held Abolish close, pressing firmly on the wound. The flickering torchlight caught the nobleman’s sharp features, and for once, his usual smirk was tinged with something heavier.
“You’re not dying on me,” he said, voice low, clipped, but with an edge of uncharacteristic urgency. “I don’t care how much you insist on staying human.”
Abolish coughed, the sound ragged, but forced out a weak shake of his head. “I… I don’t want… to—”
Scott kept his hands firm on Abolish, pressing gently where the wound ran deep, but his expression was calm, almost calculating.
"Listen. I respect your stubbornness, always have. But stubbornness won’t save you from this.” He pressed harder on the wound, guiding him upright into a sitting position.
“You don’t get a choice when death is staring at you in the face.”
Abolish swallowed hard, nodding faintly. There was no enthusiasm, only acceptance and understanding.
“...do it.”
Scott didn't hesitate as he moved with fluid precision, fangs sinking into Abolish’s neck. The world narrowed to the metallic taste the nobleman felt rush down his throat.
Pulling back, Scott licked his mouth.
Then the transformation began.
Life pulsed through his body as Abolish gasped and convulsed, but Scott’s hands were steady, guiding him through the storm of pain and power, murmuring low, coaxing words.
“You’re going to be fine,” he reassured. “You’re going to curse me for this, but you’re going to be alive.”
Abolish gasped, strength ebbing and returning in strange waves, body convulsing as life and power twisted together. Scott’s hands moved expertly, holding, guiding, ensuring the transformation took hold without fatal misstep.
Seconds passed like minutes, every pulse and shudder of Abolish felt through Scott’s grip.
Then it ended.
Abolish’s eyes fluttered open, unsteady at first as his body trembled with new strength.
Scott held him upright, supporting him with a soft smirk tugging at his lips.
“There,” he said, voice lighter but still underlined with emotion. “You’re still alive. That’s all I care about. Everything else… you can complain about later.”
Then came the sound of movement.
A low, wind-whipping laugh echoed through the chamber.
Scott’s head snapped up.
The woman was on her feet. Full power, no hesitation. Her eyes glowed faintly, runes of her making rippling across the stone walls, and the air around her seemed to hum with authority.
Scott’s jaw tightened. His teeth flashed briefly, his tail of irritation and anger coiling tightly. “Oh, you're a witch? That's... inconvenient.”
Abolish's new strength surged but still disoriented, he leaned slightly on Scott, looking between him and the woman.
She was no longer hidden in shadows, no longer constrained by subtlety. Her hands traced arcs of power through the air, the faint glow of runes flickering across the stone walls.
Scott’s teeth flashed again, annoyance twisting into alert, predatory focus.
Scott moved like a shadow, every step precise, every strike measured.
Abolish stumbled at his side, still adjusting to his own newfound strength, as Scott’s hand remained steady on his shoulder, protecting him.
The witch was fast and clever, her hands tracing arcs through the air as she conjured blasts of light and shadow, each one narrowly avoided, each one countered with deadly efficiency.
“Really,” Scott muttered between strikes, ducking a magical surge, “for someone so fond of theatrics, you’re remarkably predictable.”
The woman didn’t answer. She smiled faintly instead, eyes glinting with intent.
Abolish tried to step in, hesitated, then froze as Scott gave him a sharp glance to stay put.
Together, the two moved in a deadly rhythm, battling as witch versus vampire.
Scott struck, blocked, taunted, always testing her limits, always keeping Abolish behind his shoulder, shielded from harm.
For a long moment, it seemed the witch had no answers.
Her attacks grew more desperate, her stance more tense. And Scott grinned, leaning casually as though he hadn’t been dancing on the edge of life and death for minutes.
“You can try all you want,” he said lightly, teeth flashing, “but really, you’re just tiring yourself out."
Then her hands moved differently. Faster. Subtler.
Scott barely had time to notice the change. A spell, delicate, almost imperceptible, struck him.
There was a soft, insidious pressure in his mind.
“What—?” he murmured, eyes narrowing.
The next moment, the world tilted. His body felt suddenly heavy, unresponsive. Each breath came slower, each blink longer.
The witch stepped closer, her voice low, amused. “I could not kill you,” she said. “But that doesn’t mean you get to leave unscathed.”
Scott’s grin faltered, though only slightly. The sleepiness crept up, thick and unrelenting, wrapping around him like a shroud.
“Scott…” Abolish tried to speak, the tremble obvious in his voice, but Scott could barely lift a finger as he crashed down onto the floor.
The woman’s eyes gleamed, cruelly triumphant. “And your little fledgling?” she asked, gliding toward him. “I’ll take very good care of him while you… rest.”
Scott’s vision blurred, the edges of the crypt fading. He saw Abolish one last time, standing uncertain but alive, strength trembling yet intact.
A hint of a smirk remained on Scott’s lips, sharp even as his eyelids grew impossibly heavy.
He knew Abolish was safe now, the witch had no need to kill him. And so he happily embraced the sleep which washed over him from her spell.
“Don’t… forget…” he muttered to Abolish who looked too concerned, voice already slurring and fading...
And then the world went black.