[Private] Eat Me, Drink Me.

Dinner is served. Oren stood in the doorway to my office dressed in a child’s tux. I wasn’t even kidding. Looked like he had climbed right out of a casket in the middle of his own funeral. Blonde hair neatly brushed. Fringe just barely touching his long black eyelashes. Cold pale green eyes locking on mine to make sure I had heard him before disappearing out into the corridor. Henry had been at work for the better part of two hours. From the moment he had awoken. I hadn’t banked on either of them taking this all so seriously. Blake had moved in according to the wait staff. As of yet I didn’t know if she had chosen her own room or moved into mine. Wasn’t like I slept there anyway. Like all of the bedrooms the windows were double glazed. Protecting those inside from the harmful rays of sunlight but I preferred to rest in the basement. The entrance from the kitchen was now pin coded and secured since the party. My coffin sat in the middle of the vast space. Though we didn’t need to be so cliché in our sleeping arrangements as Vampires I had gotten into the habit even before becoming what I was. Going to ground within it was now the only way I could get an unbroken days rest. It was big enough for two, not that I had intentions of inviting anyone to share it with me.

I closed the laptop in front of me, having found no information on what the Soul Lacrime did. Lilith had not told me what it was for. Why I should wear it at all times. That uncertainty bothered me. My Goddess had shown me she had no direct control over my actions but perhaps this necklace would give her reigns. Dedications of loyalty came freely from my lips but there was no way I wanted to put myself in a position where I couldn’t retract my statements when I so chose to. Especially since it was clear that Gayle and Lilith were opposing entities. That I couldn’t rightly be with one, without shunning the other. Remaining in the middle for as long as possible was the game. Dancing that fine line that I enjoyed so much. There was only one way to find out what this object did. What properties it held. Mr Greenmantle had to know something about the damned thing.

Xavier had contacted me. I had returned his call. We had met in person in the billiard room for a drink. My assumption had been incorrect. My old friend was asking for a favour. Unfortunately for him after my message from the Supremacy I wasn’t going to offer my services without further information. The plot had thickened. Everything was connected. The Wolf who drank blood was under his control. He had been the one to get her hooked in the first place. Ursula had no idea that her underling was using a pawn to try and usurp her position and neither had a clue that Lilith was also utilising the very same bitch. She was apparantly a Warlord and a Lone, both of which meant nothing to me but now I had a name. Luxx. Lilith Alysbury. What the hell? The poodle had the same name as the demon goddess. It was madness. Utter chaos and I loved every stitch of the tale. Every single damned word. Xavier wanted me to make sure she was still drinking Vampire blood since she had not requested as much of a supply as she should need at this point. He suspected she was now looking for her own sources which displeased him. Leave the Alpha and the Warlord alone Daron. Lilith had at one point pressed me to the drink from the Alpha again but now she had changed her tune. All of this was so intriguing. In exchange for information about Blake’s maker I had agreed to introduce myself to Luxx.

Walking down to one of the many courtyards I laughed out loud at what greeted me. Henry had moved one of the long mahogany dining tables outside. Underneath it was one of many rugs that had been unsalvageable from the party. Bloodstained permanently. Upon the table were crystal glasses arranged around a plump girl laid out naked. Her distant wide open eyes indicated she had been compelled. More than likely by Oren as I suspected Henry hadn’t grasped how that trick worked yet. My youngest and oldest progeny himself looked very proud of his handwork, dressed in a grown-ups version of the same suit Oren wore. Fuck me what a circus. Henry gestured grandly to the torches that lit the outdoor dining space, eagerly pulling out a chair for me. Rubbing a hand wearily over my forehead I ignored my chosen seat and moved over to a torch to light a cigar. Leaning back against the vines of Jasmine curling up a metal trellis to blend in with the shadows. I suddenly realised that technically none of the bushes in the maze should have flowers. It was too early in the season. Strange. Blake should be down presently, Oren is calling her down. Henry sat down barely able to contain himself, pouring a glass of red wine with excited shaking hands. Have to tell you Daron I have been looking forward to this. Very, very interested in this new girlfriend of yours. I bit back another round of laughter.

Ugh, forget it, this will work. I blurted out loud as I surveyed myself in the full length mirror. I had already changed my outfit at least five different times before begrudgingly giving up and selecting this bright red one. I wanted something sexy, but not too sexy, but not too modest, showed some skin, but not too much skin, Why was that so hard to find? I held the antique, wooden framed mirror with one hand and tilted it upwards so I could do a final smoothing of my hair. The jewels I stole from the party landed me a decent pay check even with the goons wanting extra because "I took too long." When my now previous employer asked if I wanted in on another job, I rejected him the best I could without telling him where I was going. I could still visualize his little rat face all scrunched up with disgust as he snarled after me, You going straight? Good fucking luck sweetcheeks, this world will eat you. You'll be back. his words still rung in my ear. At the time I just flew him the bird and walked out, a part of me wanted to tear him apart. Whatever asshat, I've been doing this longer than you've been a speck in the fucking universe. I now thought as I started putting my rejected dresses on the bed.

I moved into the mansion not long ago with only three briefcases. Leaving the studio apartment was easy. I left a note and a month's worth of rent. The landlord wouldn't have been able to take me to court anyway, they were literally renting an apartment to Frida Kahlo; those poor uncultured swine. Majority of what I moved over was a few disguises that had paid for themselves in usefulness and all of my thieving gear; lock-picks, flash light, gloves, and even a few knives to list a few. I debated on staying in Daron's room, but after some thought, I figured it'd be easier to keep my things organized and readily available if I had a space of my own. The rooms were very similar though. Wooden floor, dark painted walls adorned with antique landscape paintings, giant window with a beautiful view, and decadent blackout drapes that when closed kept all light out.

I breathed out one long sigh as I looked myself over one more time in the mirror. Yep. I hate it. I hate this dress. Hate all of it. I looked at the clock that sat, clicking peacefully on the dresser. Damnit, I don't have time to change again. Guess I'll work with what I got. A knock tapped against the wooden door and opened a few seconds later. A small child in a tux stood in the doorway not speaking a word. This must be Oren. I thought to myself. Daron was correct about him being so.... eerie. I could almost feel his cold pale green eyes piercing my soul. He didn't say a word but gestured for me to follow him.

I followed him out to one of the courtyards. I was not yet familiar with the layout of the mansion, so it was nice to actually know where I was going. Once reaching the courtyard, I was almost surprised at the splendor I saw. A beautiful mahogany table, adorned with crystal glasses and a single girl laid out on the table. The moonlight reflected and lit up everything beautifully. It was almost like something you'd imagine in vampire fairy-tales if such a thing would ever exist.

As soon as the sound of footsteps could be heard Henry leaped from his seat. My most recent progeny fidgeted with his suit, flicking off imaginary lint and debris. Straitening his tie. Smoothing back what hair he had left. He’d slicked it down like fucking Dracula. If it had been black in color I would have offered to magic marker him a widows peak to complete the idiocy. The gray haired Vampire gave Blake all of about thirty seconds to take in the dinner table before he grabbed her hand to theatrically kiss. You must be Blake. Enchanted. Daron didn’t say you were such a beauty. I stayed in the shadows. An unamused expression stuck on my face. Still puffing slowly on my cigar. I’d turned groupies before. Sabine had been one. I’d forgotten how utterly annoying they were. Believing that somehow they had to play a part now that they were Vampires. At least Henry hadn’t adopted the ridiculous Transylvanian accent Sabine had fed me for months after I had turned her. No. He just wanted to be this debonair ladies’ man even though he was going to be a grandpa for eternity.

Henry clicked his fangs into place and then dove in for another dramatic kiss on the back of Blake’s hand, actually swinging his arm across his midsection in a bow. I’d had about enough of this already. “Reel it in Henry.” Stepping into the light I blew a cloud of smoke up into the sky. Oren shifted silently into a seat, clasping his hands in front of him on the table top. At least one of my progeny was going to keep his mouth shut. My apologies Daron but she is a sight. Gorgeous dress don’t you think? My eyes took a tour to satisfy the eager look on his face. As if he needed me to validate his delight in what Blake was wearing. Since I’d seen her mostly naked I had to admit the clothed version didn’t spark anything in me. Red was one of my more preferred colours on a female but once again, not worth a comment. Don’t know what he was expecting me to say. Whatever it was he certainly wasn’t going to be satisfied with my observation. “You’re easily impressed Henry.” As I said it my gaze lingered for a moment on Blake’s cleavage before I sat down at the table, though pulling my chair back far enough that I could put my feet up on the nearby empty seat.

There’s only four chairs. Oren stated the obvious eyeing my footstool. I’m sure he doesn’t mean that Blake my dear. Henry slobbered. Not very forthcoming with compliments is our Maker. My eyes narrowed and Oren cleared his throat. Henry as of yet had not experienced what happened if any of them dared tried to speak for me. This dinner was not going to go smoothly if Henry decided to give running commentary on what he thought I should be saying or thinking. Actually that’s not true Henry, he’s very complimentary of Gayle. This time I snarled and leaned over in a flash to slam my cigar down into Oren’s jacket arm. The boys pale green eyes just observed the embers burning a hole down through the fabric. Knowing full well that he had spoken out of turn. Perhaps I should have given them both a list of cleared topics of conversation for this dinner party. Not that I expected Henry to bloody remember any taboo subjects nor Oren to remotely care when he had the opportunity to quietly state something, even if it resulted in a broken neck.

Henry was off in his own private universe, which consisted of only himself and Blake. Shamelessly staring at her like she was the first woman he’d seen since waking up in a puddle of his own blood in what was now my study. As I removed the cigar from Oren’s attire, locking eyes with him to give a warning glare, Henry moved to the only unoccupied chair pulling it out for Blake. Here we go Blake. He grandly gestured to the fucking thing like it was a throne and I sniggered. Oren placed his hand over the smouldering fabric of his suit muttering under his breath about their only being four chairs again. “You could take the old man’s chair, or you can have the best seat in the house.” I patted my lap to indicate exactly where that was.

Thank you, I am quite flattered, Henry. I wasn't expecting to be showered in so many compliments. I supposed the dress was mostly worth the effort, though I wasn't fully intending on impressing the old man. I was enjoying myself until Henry attempted to get a word out of Daron. I instantly felt a change in the atmosphere. Easily impressed? Of every phrase and word in the language and you mustered that up? Really? Please. I thought to myself, trying to not give him the satisfaction of seeing the discontented look on my face.

I raised my brows almost startled as the cigar burnt a hole into Oren's sleeve. Henry continued talking to me as if nothing had happened, but I didn't hear a word of it. Oren's blank face as he stared at the cigar had my full attention. Whoever this Gayle was, she was important enough to burn a hole into a beautiful tux. Would it be inappropriate for me to ask about her? Maybe I should let this settle a bit before I say anything. I thoughts to myself focusing my attention back to Henry who was still talking about who knows what.

I lifted my dress slightly as I was about to take the seat that Henry had pulled out for me until I heard Daron's stifled laugh. I looked over in his direction and somehow refrained myself from rolling my eyes after he patted his lap. As tempting as that sounds, I gestured towards him with my hands, I'll politely accept this chair. I nodded my head in Henry's direction as a thank you notion as he slid the chair and myself closer to the table. Not compliment a women then expect her to sit on your lap? While I was thankful to not be dead after being caught stealing, I still knew my self worth. Plus I kind of enjoyed toying with Daron. Even still, I knew I had to tread carefully until I knew for sure I wasn't going to be stabbed in my sleep for saying something the wrong way.

I looked back and forth at the others folding my hands in my lap, I wondered if they knew all about my art of stealing or if there had been some elaborate story to explain who I was and why I was here. Then again, Daron didn't seem the type to go gossip to anyone about anything, so it seemed unlikely I was brought up at all in conversation. Considering Henry's enthusiasm, it seemed pretty safe to assume they knew nothing about me.

I've been taking in the new atmosphere of this place and I must admit the art that's on display here is wonderful. I said trying to strick up a conversation with anyone who would listen and/or reply. I had felt this sense of awkwardness, almost nervousness, in myself ever since I moved in and this whole thing actually felt real.

If I had known whether she would accept my invitation or not I wouldn’t have asked in the first place. Nothing was ever worth my time if I could predict the outcome. I was not a man who enjoyed a riveting game of chess. Remove the rules assigned to each set piece. Discard the board entirely and allow the resurrection of the fallen to be allowed on a whim rather than advancing a pawn to the opposing side. Then you had a game. One that properly reflected the players. Chuckling through a smirk I kept my feet elevated while Henry awkwardly hovered without a seat now for himself. He kept looking at my boots, shuffling as if it would get me to move. Of course, it wasn’t going to happen. You’re an art lover? I closed my eyes wondering how long it would be before I grew tired of idel chit chat. Neither Henry nor Oren knew anything about Blake. Everything was always on a need to know basis and I didn’t care for their input. Most of it I have I collected myself. Henry was proud of what knick-knacks he had accumulated over the years. The ones I found the most interesting lay hidden in the labyrinth of the maze. Though that probably had to do more with where they were rather than what they were. Statues of Gods and Goddesses, mythical figures from every religion and culture to have ever played a part on Earth. One was missing, however. Maybe I would have to waste some money on a depiction of Lilith. I have a deep interest in- “While this is spine tingling conversation…” It wasn’t by any stretch of the imagination. “Blake and I have something to discuss.” Is that your way of saying you want us to leave? Oren’s voice was blunt and calm giving me a cold stare. He knew how much this dinner meant to Henry and for some reason always came to my progenies defense when I squashed all their dreams. "Not at all, I was just suggesting Henry shut the fuck up."

The old man's mouth clamped closed but didn’t stay shut for long. Shall get some glasses, that’s what I’ll do. Have some very fine crystal that would be perfect for this occasion. Directing another bow in Blake’s direction he scampered off back into the house. He probably didn’t even know where they had been put. Everything had been moved about by contractors prior to the party and shifted once again by cleaners. I didn’t have any attachments to anything in the house itself. Not even really in my own room. Made finding simple household objects to be more of an adventure than it should be. Anything of value I had most definitely wasn’t stored on the upper floors. Oren stayed. Slowly looked from me to Blake and back again. Like he could urge the discussion, to begin with the action. Finer details of what she and I needed to talk about I was going to leave until we were alone. Wetting Oren’s appetite with information was one of my favorite games.

“We have a conundrum. I now know that Mr Greenmantle shamelessly attacked one of my guests.” Drew himself had not told me. Of course, he wouldn’t want me to know that he’d been momentarily incapacitated by a lone Warlock. Oren’s eyes fixed on me. In their depths, I could tell he was trying to decipher why I would be bringing it up at all. Did I care about my progeny? Was it possible that Daron actually gave a shit whether or not someone had attacked Drew. Warranted or not. After all I’d said and done that I actually cared. Hilarious. “Stealing from him never weighed on my conscious.” I grinned wickedly at Blake. Was fun to insinuate I had the ability to regret a single thing. That I would have a reason to. “Though I now know what I need you to acquire I need further details on the item itself.” Was not going to admit that I had no clue what the necklace did. Lilith had not been forthcoming with details. While leaving some mystery to allow to be surprised was an excruciating temptation. It was difficult not to see the piece of jewelry that I had promised not to take off, as a form of collar. “How to get that information. I want to hear your thoughts.” Blake was a thief. The occupation suggested that she worked in the shadows. It would have been easy I imagined for her to sneak in and collect the item with a little research into what kind of defenses the Warlock might have. I was very satisfied with the fact I was going to make her job a whole lot harder. More, unpredictable.

“Theoretically what you would do. Feel free to be brutal.” The statement was intended to be taken in a variety of different ways. How much humanity did Blake have left in her? Did she yet have the capacity to inflict torture in order to get what she needed? She could speak bluntly. As long as Oren had no clue as to what it was Blake was retrieving it didn’t matter that he knew that’s why Blake was under our roof. In fact, I very much enjoyed the idea of him agonizing over what it was I needed from a Warlock's stores. Shuffling back in my seat as if I was making myself comfortable for an interesting story, I cocked a challenging eyebrow at the red haired Vampire.