Ashby sits in Lore’s lap during breakfast. Angel whispers to Reegan and Hyun Woo, likely about the incident this morning. And I sit next to Darika, who’s smug smirk informs me that she took great pleasure in making a monster out of me. That jerk move feels like something my brother would have done, if he were still here with me…

Suddenly, Draven enters the room dragging a half conscious Cyan by the collar of his shirt. Odd. Cyan constantly wears long sleeves, practically covering every inch of skin even on hot days. Isn’t he warm?

Cyan’s so tired he actually sits across from me to eat. I’m invisible, which gives me an opportunity, but then Draven whispers something to Lore.

Lore kisses Ashby’s temple and likely tells him something reassuring before announcing our departure. The mention of my name causes Cyan to sit up so abruptly that his neck cracks loud enough for all to hear. He doesn’t seem to care as he stares wide-eyed at me, then glares, practically challenging me to try talking to him. I would, if Lore wasn’t already behind me.

“Wait with Draven in the car, I will join the two of you momentarily,” he says, then heads upstairs to change into something other than that accursed robe that looks just as goo--ridiculous from the back as it does the front.

Cyan’s spared of my questioning today, but I want to hear from him eventually. More so out of my personal curiosity than the church seeing as they didn’t give orders to bring him home. Why did he leave? Why stay here, of all places? What did Lore offer that was so tempting? Is he actually safe here?

After retrieving my axe from upstairs, I head to the front door. Arline waits there. She doesn’t speak until I stand in front of her, “If anything happens to His Grace because of you, know that there’s nothing the church can do to save you.”

I snort. “I’m not surprised that the first words I hear from you are a threat.”

“If you were surprised, it’d prove that the church sent the wrong man for this job. Whatever it really is,” she growls the last bit, then walks back to the dining room where the children's laughter echoes.

As expected, none believe I’m here for the reason the church stated even if it is a believable cover. They're as paranoid as I am, possibly even more so. I’ll have to work hard to solve any case Lore allows me to be a part of, regardless of whether it pertains to my true mission. Perhaps it’ll ease their suspicions enough to give me more breathing room. The longer the mission takes the more chances there are for Lore to kill again, if he truly is the serial killer, and if there actually is one. I hate all this running in circles, not having answers. Out in the field, everything was easier. If a vampire or dhampir killed a human, I killed them. Simple as that.

Draven already has the car running when I step outside. I’m not used to someone opening the door for me so I almost run into him when he goes to do so. Although his expression remains apathetic, there’s a glint to his eyes that says he doesn’t want to open the door for me either, but does so anyway. What a faithful butler. I hope he’s at least paid well.

I slide into the back while adjusting my axe so it sits on the floor between my legs. Lore joins us a few moments later in another extravagant burgundy suit that holds him in all the right ways. He joins me in the backseat that’s far too small. When his thigh brushes against mine, I press myself against the door. That does little to separate us or lessen the sudden heat. Do all cars heat up this much when they’re driven? I’ve never spent much time in them, seeing as chasing vampires in a vehicle is never a good idea. They know far more about mechanics than mortals ever will. The machinery that exists today is thanks to them, even though it pales in comparison to what they have in Vexsis, so I've been told.

“Does something trouble you?” Lore asks while leaning closer. “Worried I might bite?” he snickers and retreats to rest comfortably against the leather seats. “A trained paladin such as yourself shouldn’t have to worry about that. You were tortured--”

I glare at the bastard who snickers before correcting himself, “I meant you were trained to withstand the toxin in our bites.”

“All seraphics are trained against the atrocities of your kind.”

“My kind?” he echoes, brushing his hair over his shoulder. “What vampire have you met that welcomes a dhampir with open arms?”

“I admit I haven’t met many who wanted to have a chat with me.”

“Or many that you were even willing to have a chat with. It must urk you that there are monsters around you now that you must tolerate seeing as you’ve only ever cut them down.” He watches me for a reaction that I don’t try to hide.

“It does bother me, so I’d like to get this job done as quickly as possible.”

“Likewise.” Lore hums. He retrieves a small notepad from the inner pocket of his jacket to hand to me. “You have quite the timing. There has been a horrific murder last night--”

I recall this morning; seeing this very car parked slightly out of place. The possibility of what that means lingers in the back of my mind.

“The body was found by the victim’s brother this morning. We’re heading there now. I thought you would want to accompany me since the police have discovered narcotics hidden among his belongings. He may be involved with the Red Moon,” Lore finishes.

“How sad though,” he adds while crossing his legs. “I had hoped to give you a tour of our great city so you could send a good word about me back to the Holy Church. I want nothing more than to impress the great and generous leaders of our kingdom.”

The emphasis on kingdom was done purposefully. There has been a lot of talk among civilians, nobles, and faithful alike concerning the dwindling power of the aristocracy. Everyday we lean closer to the new and rightful rulers; the Prophet herself. Obviously, as a member of the aristocracy and a dhampir, Lore isn’t fond of that inevitable future. I’m not sure what he, or even the aristocracy, expect. Their screw up during the Vampire Wars are proof enough that they aren’t worthy to rule. Although it happened almost a thousand years ago, the consequences still affect us today. The Holy Church saved us and do far more work for everyone than nobles have ever done.

Lore smiles kindly enough to fool most. The softness to his voice even makes me hesitate before growling, “I’m already growing tired of your offhand remarks. Don’t think I’m too dull to realize the implications. If you have something to say about me or the church, then speak it honestly.”

I hate that I shiver when his eyes drift over me in one, slow fluid motion. Then his smile disappears, replaced with an almost disappointed scowl, “And here I was hoping that you’d play along with me a while longer, but alright.”

He leans in so that his quiet whisper is heard over the roar of the engine, “How old were you when the church abducted you from your family? Eight or nine? A bit older, if you were lucky.”

Though I told him to be honest, the question annoys me all the same. How dare he accuse the church of abducting children. What further blasphemy has he accused of them or will accuse them of in the future? If I hadn’t been ordered to remain by his side, I’d have punched those fangs straight out of his mouth, at the very least.

“I was saved from bloodthirsty beasts, not quite different from this butler of yours or you.” I spit, keeping my eyes locked on his quiet blue gaze. “Saved by a now champion of the church when I was seven. I witnessed the demise of my family. Had they survived the vampire attack, they would have been honored to know their son’s divinity granted him the chance to become a seraphic and now a paladin.”

Lore doesn’t hesitate to coldly reply, “No, had your family survived, you would have never seen them until the church deemed you brainwashed enough to no longer view them as your true family.” Then he scoffs at my glare. “See? You react immediately at the mere implication of an insult upon the church, but speaking of your brutally murdered family doesn’t even make you flinch. The church really did a number on you.”

I grasp my robes tight enough to rip. What does he know of my family? What does he know of what I went through? Of what I'm still going through? The nightmares. The fear of looking into the past. This... repugnant asshole!

Lore grins, waiting for my response that never comes because the only response I wish to give is one of violence.

The sounds of blaring sirens suddenly appear. Draven parks the car a moment later alongside the road. Police vehicles line the street ahead of us outside of a thin, towering metal building where the smoke stacks spit out clouds that remind me of home.

“We’re here,” Draven states as if we don’t have eyes to see it. He steps out of the vehicle, obviously heading over to open Lore’s door.

I clasp Lore’s wrist, who stares silently at me when I growl, “We’re not done talking about this.”

“Of course, why don’t we continue tonight over tea?”

His attitude truly pisses me off. But then his eyes grow seriously dark. Though Draven has opened the door, Lore doesn’t leave. He speaks to me in a growling whisper, “While we’re on the subject of family, from this point on, you will keep that axe of yours out of the sight of the children. And this is not up for debate.”

“Can I be assured that you and your staff won’t do me harm since I’m unarmed?”

Lore laughs. “Oh, my sweet Seren, it’s absolutely adorable that you think that axe can save you.”

Then he rips his wrist free and steps out the door.