Two: Blood

"Oh, come now. The pizza delivery boy. How coarse." comes a delicate yet mocking voice from behind the door.

"Yes, yes. We can hear you in there… skittering about. Aren’t you going to open the door?" the voice is like silk. Enticing… and yet there’s something like a threat behind it.

Martin only grunts, and shunts himself towards the door, as the others take up their positions inside his apartment.

"Can’t say that I recognize your voice…" the man calls to the figure outside as he approaches the front door.

"Well then aren’t you the lucky one?" the voice shoots back instantly.

Martin merely blows air out his nose at the retort, and opens the spy hole he has situated about half way down the door. Looking back at you all for a second, he turns and places his eye up to the lens.


"Aren’t you a handsome one?" the voice calls, already peering into the lens from the outside. Then her voice changes, and she’s more business like:

"The Lady will see you now. We think you’ll find the meeting to our mutual benefit." she says with a wave to Martin as he watches on.

"Come, come. Open up."

Martin looks to each of you once again, and nods finally to Galaine.

"Not your first rodeo." he grunts, with a wink. It’s a grisly sight, that wink; face and hair still slick with grime and blood and sweat.

"Can’t let you in, sweetheart. Sorry to disappoint." he calls out as he unlatches the door and swings it open, wheeling back slightly as he does so.

In the door frame is Marianne, as close to inside as she can be. She cranes her neck to look inside, before wrinkling her nose.

"I love what you’ve done with the place. Really quite charming." she says, not at all genuinely.

Out in the hallway, you see the large vampire than you had encountered earlier at the bar; blood still covering his hands, face and clothes.

"Your friend there… with the sword… has a very distinctive scent. Did you know?" she says, perhaps by way of explanation as to how they followed you.

Without a word, but with a bow to Marianne, the large vampire from earlier turns to leave.

---

A moment later, Marianne steps aside. She bows to a person as yet unseen. In a matter of seconds, a woman is filling the frame of the doorway - impossible tall, thin and angular. Undeniably beautiful, though in an odd, ancient way.

A creature from another time…

"How barbaric…" she starts, and the accent is hard to place. "… conducting business in a place like this." she says, throwing her hands up to denote the hallway.

"And yet…" she looks inside the house, perhaps deciding that it might be better to remain here.

She catches the tooth effortlessly, sparing not even a look at the thing as it sailed towards her. Once it’s in her palm, she brings it up for inspection:

"Oh, yes! We had been looking for that, hadn’t we? From that rabble at the bar! And look how small it is!"

She looks back to you, with those ageless eyes; eyes that have seen a hundred… a thousand men like Brydon, and had the better of them:

"Its agreed then. Something for me…" she remarks, pocketing the fang "… something for you."

She weaves her hand around, and then turns to leave. In her place, Marianne steps into the doorway.

"The Art Gallery." she remarks simply, betraying the lair of her vampiric kin in a few words.

She turns to leave herself, but comes back, with a finger raised. "The Caravaggios. Dreadful things. That’s where they keep their lair. Just pull the lever. You’ll know it when you see it.

A pleasure doing business with you, hunters. We’ll be in touch."