Beneath The Moon - tiramisu

Genres: Yuri, Fantasy, Romance, Supernatural

Chapter 1

Agnes Lunae stalked across the main hallway of the Hunting Compound with loud, sure steps. Her boots, knocking against the wood floors, tracked a pattern of mud and blood behind her. Yet she did not stop to remove them, nor did she care about the filth splattered across her leather overcoat and capelet. It dripped from the silver-plated hunting sythe strung from her back, and coated both her leather gloves and the grip of her pistol. 

As she neared the great doors of the meeting hall, she pulled down her mask to reveal a face twisted in fury and removed her hood. Black hair spilled out of its ponytail and over her dark skin, intermingling with the filth on her shoulders. None of this was paid any mind. Instead, she slammed one door open in fury. 

“What is this supposed to be?” 

From where she was leaning over a map of the city of Cordis, General Ariadne Lunae, elected head both of the Hunters and Clan Luna, glanced up. “Ah, Agnes. I see you received your assignment.” 

“Assignment?” Agnes growled. “This is subterfuge!” 

Ariadne smiled. Her eyes, the same moon-silver as Agnes’, were sweet and cold all at once. “I thought you would be pleased. It is the greatest mission any Hunter will ever receive.” “It is a waste of my skills,” Agnes retorted. Her ears flicked low, her sharp teeth bared. “I should be out in the streets, hunting night beasts.” 

Ariadne’s smile widened until her teeth poked out like fangs. “I trust the rest of clan to hunt. But I believe you are the only one capable of completing this mission. You are, after all, the only night beast on our side.” 

Her smile irritated Agnes more than it should have. It was, at times, difficult to believe they were related. But despite Ariadne’s silver hair and Agnes’ black tresses, they had the same pale eyes and tan skin, the same tall frame. 

Agnes spoke through her bared teeth. “But I am not capable of doing this.” With that, she reached into her pocket for her assignment. It was already crumpled, now stained with the ichor of the hunt. Slamming it onto the table, she crossed her arms. “I can stalk vampires for hours across rooftops, following their stench alone. I can win any fight you give me, subdue any beast. I cannot. Play maid. To a vampire lord!”

Smiling, Ariadne laced her fingers together over her chest. “You are patient, sister. You are as silent as the grave, and your mind is strategic and focused. And, when the time comes to subdue Lady Rosemary, you are the only one I trust to do the job.” 

Agnes shut her eyes. “How about this? Why don’t I simply go in there, pretending to be a maid, and kill her as soon as I have the chance?” 

Ariadne shook her head so pleasantly that Agnes’ blood boiled. “I’m afraid you must wait, and gather intel. We must know how her blood is distributed.” 

Of the great vampires who ruled the outer woods, Lady Rosemary was the most elusive. Clan Luna had been searching for her for centuries, for it was her blood, as pure and clear as the north star in the night, which had caused the plague of vampires in Cordis in the first place. It had bubbled up in dark glass bottles, labeled in cursive, distributed secretly and consumed alone. 

The Hunters, who had always been the guardians of the mountainous city state, had long sworn to rid Cordis of the vampiric pest. But no matter how many bottles they destroyed, no matter how many sires they staked, there always seemed to be one more, sprouting from the earth like flowers. 

Defeating Lady Rosemary, Agnes finally reasoned, would curb the night beasts significantly. Without Rosemary’s clear, healing blood, they would not be nearly so powerful or numerous. 

“Fine,” Agnes admitted, crossing her arms. “I’ll do it.” 

“Thank you,” Ariadne hummed. “Your supplies are almost ready. You’ll be picked up at the crossroads outside the eastern gate two mornings from now.” 

A moment passed. “Couldn’t I at least be a butler?” Agnes asked, somewhat sheepish. “No,” Ariadne said, smile still dazzlingly bright. “You must be her handmaid. Someone she can trust, who will be with her at almost all times.” 

“And she’ll trust a werewolf?” 

Ariadne smiled. “There may be historic tension between werewolves and vampires, but both fear the hunters. You’ll be united by a common enemy, and she will not suspect you. You’ll profess your loyalty, and this will be enough.” 

“How do you know?” 

Ariadne reached across the table and produced a letter.

Dear Ms. Murray, it read, We are so pleased to hear of your vampiric loyalty. Lady Rosemary shall be much less lonesome with a handmaiden such as yourself as a companion. Castle Rosemary might be sacred, but it is also empty of companionship. Please take care of her, and protect her with your life.  The following words let Agnes ‘Murray’ know her duties, and a travel itinerary. Agnes scowled. “I am no vampire’s ‘companion.’” 

“You are if it means you can get information.” 

“I will remind you,” said Agnes, revealing her teeth, “that I am not known for my subtlety.” 

Ariadne clasped her fingers together. “I’m not asking you to be a perfect maid. I am asking you to gain your trust. And you can always simply... tell the truth, to a point.” “Tell her what.” 

“You were turned against your will. You have worked hard to master yourself, and to do your duties despite your... affliction.” 

Agnes huffed. “The silver bracelets.” 

“Exactly.” 

Ever since her fateful turning years ago, Agnes had worn a set of silver bracelets, to keep from transforming beneath the full moon. Whereas before she had been wild as a wolf, she had tamed herself into a fierce hunting dog. A werewolf who could wield the silver tools that hurt her. 

The bracelets had once burned on her wrists, despite. Now, despite the scars that they had left, she barely felt them. 

“How do you know she won’t ask me to remove them? How do you know that she won’t corrupt me?” Agnes pushed. 

“Because,” Ariadne replied. “I know you. There has never been a hunter as driven as you. You have a duty to fulfill, and you will complete it.” 

Agnes sniffed. “You speak too highly of me.” 

“I have known you for a long time, sister. Any other werewolf would leave the organization sworn to hunt them. You stayed. And you made yourself useful. And now, you will be useful again. I want you to cut to the quick of Rosemary’s entire operation. And then destroy everything that you can.”

“Fine.” Agnes scowled. “But when I return, you’ll owe me.” 

For a moment, Ariadne looked down at her own hands. “You had better return, Agnes. I won’t accept a dead sister.” 

“I won’t die,” said Agnes. “I am the best, after all.” 

“Don’t get cocky,” Ariadne warned. “I didn’t tell you all that just to get you overconfident.” 

“Overconfident? Who’s overconfident?” Agnes grinned. 

“You are,” Ariadne replied. “I am so happy I don’t participate in hunts anymore. You were so annoying to hunt bes

ides.” 

Agnes remembered. On one particular night, before her turning, the two of them had stalked a night beast down an abandoned side street. It had been a strange thing, formless, as silver-white as the moon, sliding down the cobblestone with long, sticky limbs. Ariadne had stopped them both to observe it, sketching its shape onto her notebook with a bit of charcoal. 

Agnes had watched a while, kneeling on the ground, one black-gloved hand clutched round the shaft of her hunting scythe. She had waited one minute, then two. The night creature had made an odd gurgling sound, and begun to pull itself across the ground once more, like a centipede over rotting wood. 

“Fascinating,” Ariadne had whispered, sketching evermore furiously. 

Agnes remembered making a face. “Disgusting.” 

“Oh come on, just a minute more.” 

“Nope. Not a chance.” Agnes planted her boots on the ground. “I’ve had enough of this. The last thing we need is more of these, propagating across the city.” 

“Agnes!” Ariadne had yelled. 

But it was too late. Agnes had spun her sythe in her deft hands and dispatched the creature without a second thought. It had made an odd little cry, and disintegrated into water. “Agnes!” Ariadne had chastised again. “Now we won’t know what that is!” “Well,” said Agnes. “It’s gone now, so there won’t be more of them.” 

“For all you know it is one of many! And now we’ve lost our best way to study it.” “Well,” Agnes said with a shrug. “We know that it doesn’t like silver.” 

Ariadne had huffed. “Unbelievable!” She stormed off in a flutter of her overcoat.

It was difficult to believe that the same girl who had once chastised her, face flushing red as an apple, was the woman who stood before her with such a calm demeanor. And yet, Agnes had changed too. 

“I’ll be patient, Ariadne,” Agnes said, with a sigh. “I won’t attack immediately. It’ll be like stalking my prey through the city streets. Gathering information. Waiting for the perfect moment to strike.” 

“You promise?” Ariadne asked, and for a moment she became that small girl again, watching Agnes run into danger with concern painting her expression. 

“I promise,” Agnes assured her, steeling herself. “I will return to you, victorious.” With that, she turned on her heel, and sauntered out the door. 

She had a vampire to hunt, after all, and so much to do to prepare.

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