Chapter 9 - Chance Encounters

[Davian]

Aspia had been less than helpful aside from finding him a place to eat a tasty meal after she had met him back at the dayroom in the inn. After eating their fill, he had dismissed Aspia back to Lian for the next day or two as she had not volunteered much of anything worthwhile to the cause. Davian lingered over her smell in his mind, it certainly was intoxicating.

As darkness really settled in, and the busy city calmed, Davian found himself in a neighborhood not far from the Administration building where he had met Griffin previously. It was a fairly well proportioned place, houses that were not small, but not opulent. Government and working class people mostly. The goal this night was to do some old-fashioned digging and watching. Get sightings and clues to see how far the extent of vampirism had spread. Since he knew of at least one higher level official who was nightborne, he would start his search here.

Hours passed as Davian wandered the streets and alleys of that section of the city. Even the furry night-dwellers were lower in number here than elsewhere. In the chill hours of morning Davian finally saw, from the corner of his eye, a furtive movement down a small alleyway. Pretending to have not noticed, Davian maintained his pace for a couple of steps then slid over to the opening of the alley. He paused, barely breathing, waiting to hear something further. After a minute or two, when nothing new had occurred, he glanced slowly around the corner. Nothing, it was empty except for a few small piles of debris. Sliding into the alley, he noted one of the lumps near the wall appeared different than the rest. On closer examination, it was a cat, or at least had been a cat. Something had ripped the poor beast's throat open. He could find no tooth marks per se, but nothing aside from a dog would cause such damage in a city like this and he sorely doubted a dog would have been so quiet or have left the carcass there against the wall.

It was something at least. And, actually, more than something he thought to himself as he tossed the carcass onto a garbage pile in the corner. He had two options now. Find the culprit, who was likely a fledgling vampire and uninitiated into its new state or ask around about dead or missing pets recently. People in an area like this would certainly have more care over a few cats and dogs than people in the slums would.

Glancing up at the sky, the darkness marred by reflected light from the city's streets, Davian figured he had a few more hours until people started really waking up. Time to go on a hunt. Checking the alley for all possible exits, he was not surprised to find a gap in some old brick and ironwork that separated the alley from the properties behind. Leaping to the top of the crumbling wall, he maneuvered around the rusty iron points and slid down the far side of the wall, a small skid of debris chasing him down to the cobbles. If that vampire had been truly hungry, which it likely was if it were feeding on small animals, it would likely try to feed again as need drove it recklessly on. Sticking to the alleyways and streets, Davian combed the area searching for further signs. Back in the same alleyway in which he started, Davian made a gruff indistinguishable noise of frustration and looked about once more. The rooftops were an option, but he really didn't think such a fledgling vampire would take to the rooftops if it were still on the search for a meal.

A few minutes more indecision and Davian was climbing the drainage pipes for the shorter building on the north side of the alley. Perhaps the view from above would help. Certainly couldn't hurt. The occasional light blinked through windows now, as those who had service jobs awoke before the dawn. Morning was still some time away, but people were really going to make this job harder. Davian purposefully strode to each edge of the building in turn, still noting nothing of consequence. Climbing onto the tarred roof of the adjacent building, Davian once again moved to the edges of the building and looked around. Nothing.

Moving toward the next building's wall Davian leapt back, his weapons coming into his hands as he moved. A harsh hiss, originating behind a water well nearby, had him in a crouch and moving forward. A figure crouched there, watching his movement. He could see the glimmer of light reflected from the eyes. Coming to a standing position, his blades still held before him, Davian approached the figure cautiously. A man stood as he neared, his once fine clothing torn and dirty. He had distinct fangs and twitched slightly. A sure sign of early vampirism. Davian slid his left hand to his waist, discreetly removing a powder mixture he found to be very irritating to this kind. He placed the powder on the flat of his blade and continued his measured approach to the thing. In a blur of movement, he whipped the blade forward, not meaning to hit, but to spray the powder around the creature. It had the desired reaction, although it dodged the feint with true skill. A fit of ragged breathing and the scratch of strong nails on wood told Davian he had hit the mark, and he stepped forward to finish the job.

"Hold fool." The voice was raspy, but held a commanding tone. Whoever this vampire had been in real life was used to a position of authority.

"Why should I wait to destroy you?"

"Destroy me?" That brought a cackling, rough laugh. "A simple thief hunter? Do you not know what you face?" Davian didn't respond, instead he took a step closer which caused the vampire to retreat a step.

"I know what you are, and I know that you will not live through this night."

The vampire stood straighter and stared hard at Davian. "I am not as you think." Davian slowed his approach but did not stop. He was slowly backing the vampire toward a corner. "This was done to me against my will, I despise what I must do to survive and the hatred I feel for the daytime. I had everything� and now nothing of interest. I survive by feeding on children's pets in the night. Never have I tasted human flesh. The one who created me looked healthy and full of life, perverted though that is, but I do not feel that fullness. I think I decompose myself."

"No, you just deny the inevitable. You will not die this way."

"That is not what the rumors in stories tell."

"They tell wrong."

The vampire paused and chewed his lip, a distinctly human trait, as he digested the new information. He seemed to take Davian at his word. "If that is the case, then I must change my direction and bring down the one that created me." He looked up, a glint in his dark eyes and a grimace on his ivory pale face.

"You can help destroy that one by giving me the information you have."

Again the vampire laughed. He seemed willing to take Davian at his word, but had no faith in his ability to kill the undead.

"You think yourself holy?" He again laughed that crude, cracked laugh. Davian again made no reply as he stepped on more foot closer.

"Tell me and I will end your master's miserable life."

"Master? There is no master above myself."

This time it was Davian's turn to laugh. "Until he wants your attention, then you will do as he asks without question. Tell me what you know."

A low growl escaped the beast's throat. He was getting angry. "I know little truthfully. The bastard that bit me that night a year ago has only come back around once that I know of and then only briefly. The only thing of note that I can recall from that night is the smell of ink. It sticks in my ragged memories for some reason. I forget much of what I was and what I knew."

Davian paused this time and stood straighter, without lowering his blades. He was hoping for more information from the beast.

"Enough," the creature barked. "I will make it my task to hunt that bastard down." The vampire turned, and began to run for the wall.

Davian intercepted it with both blades, one held high, one low. The lower blade hit the vampire's right thigh, the higher the left side of its exposed neck, just above the dirty silken shirt. The vampire fell forward, surprised by the sudden attack, but Davian was fast and did not relent as he drove both daggers into the beast's filthy heart. As it lay on the ground twitching, but not fully dead, Davian muttered, "No you will not." He then whipped the blade across the creature's neck and removed its head. The morning sun would find little more than ratty clothing and dust on this rooftop.

[Griffin]

"Hello, Janise."

Janise Drenden looked up from her writing table. Her fatigue was evident. Her normally shiny brown hair was dull and sticking out here and there from the tight bun at the base of her neck. Her fingers were smudged the same color as the dark circles under her eyes. Those eyes brightened noticeably when she saw who was standing before her.

"Thad! Thad Grouseman. Why it's been ages." Janise gave him a quick peck on both cheeks. Please, sit, sit!" She cleared a chair of a stack of parchment, waved her visitor into it and then settled back into her own. "What brings you here?"

Griffin took the proffered chair. "Business for Count de Gould, as usual. Thought I'd stop by and catch up on the gossip while I was in town." He leaned in close. "Something strange is going on here, Janise. I can't say I've ever seen you so...out of sorts."

Janise brushed a strand of hair back from her forehead. Griffin suppressed a smile. She was always so self-conscious when Thad was around. "Things have been very busy around here, Thad. I've been working twenty-hour days. I haven't slept much."

"I can tell. You're missing your normally radiant smile." Janise blushed at that. "What's been going on?"

"You haven't heard about the murders?"

"Murders? Janise, darling, people are murdered in this city every day."

"Not kingdom officials."

"You don't say. I hadn't heard a thing, but then again, I'm so rarely in town these days. Please, fill me in. Who was killed?"

"There have been three. One man was a big shot over in the Ministry of City Development. Woods, I think his name was. I saw him around occasionally, but never met him. The second guy worked with imports and exports. I don't remember his name. It's the other victim that has me working so hard these last few days. Horice Ferintal."

Griffin put his hand to his chest and gasped. "Not Sub-Minister Ferintal?"

"The same."

"Why ever would someone want to kill the Sub-Minister? From what I understand, he was an honest, upstanding man. True, he worked for the Ministry of the Treasury - and no one likes a tax collector - but I heard he was actually lobbying for a reduction in taxes."

Janise glanced around then leaned so close to Griffin that their noses almost touched. Her voice fell to a whisper. "Can you keep a secret?"

"I am the model of indiscretion."

"What you say was true, up until last week. There was an important vote in the Parliamentary Sub-committee on import tariffs. The Sub-Minister had worked for weeks to gain support on a tariff reduction for Rishmalian silk. Then, out of nowhere, he cast the deciding vote against the reduction. Several of the committee members were furious, but he refused to speak with them about his change of mind."

Griffin shrugged. "That's politics. It's hardly a reason to murder a man."

"Maybe, but it was extremely out of character. Marta from Treasury said the Sub-Minister had been brooding for days before the vote."

"Brooding?"

"Um hmm. She said he got a visit from one of the grain factors down by the docks. Such visits were apparently pretty common, but the Sub-Minister got all worked up after this one. Went storming out of the office without a word. His attendance at work was sketchy for the next couple of days. Then came the vote and they found him dead."

"You don't say." Griffin leaned back in his chair. He had read about the vote in the Elite Forces file, as well as the sub-minister's absence from the office. This tidbit about the grain factor was new information, however, and it seemed highly relevant. What could a grain factor tell a sub-minister that would lead to changing his vote on a completely unrelated factor such as imported silk? Griffin had a suspicion, but to check it out, he'd need to track down the factor.

"Amazing what one misses when one is away from the RAB for any length of time," Griffin said. "Janise, you have been a font of information and a joy to speak with, as always."

He gave the clerk a quick peck on both cheeks. Janise blushed.

"When will I see you again?"

"Never quite sure," Griffin replied with a grin, "But I hope it's sooner rather than later. Ta ta." He swept back in a courtly bow and left the clerk to her work.

[Across the room]

The vampire looked up from its stack of parchment to see a man whispering with Janise Drenden. This was nothing out of the ordinary. Janise was an acknowledged gossip and spent a large chunk of her day talking with anyone who stopped by about anything - the main reason the girl was so behind in her work. What made this time the exception was the nature of the man with whom she was speaking. No one else in the room would have noticed, but to the vampire's supernatural vision it was obvious.

The man was a Were. Not a full Were - not yet, anyway. The auric taint that accompanied full transformation into the Were state had not yet been achieved, but the man had been infected - the vampire could feel it from where it stood.

It restrained itself as the conversation played out. It took some small amount of willpower to let the filthy beast leave unmolested, but the vampire was nothing, if not intelligent, and the information it might obtain about its enemies' movements was more important than eliminating one of them at this exact moment.

It watched as the Were left, then walked casually over to Janise's desk.

"Who was that?"

"Hmmm?" Janise continued to stare off in the direction the Were had gone. Her scent made it obvious she was infatuated with the beast.

"That man who was just here. He was quite attractive."

"Yes, he is...."

There was a pause. "He is...?" the vampire prompted.

Janise shook her head and seemed to come out of a trance. "Oh, sorry. That was Thad Grouseman. He's a clerk for Cound de Gould."

"Count de Gould. I haven't heard of him."

"I'm not surprised. Count de Gould is a retired knight who lives in Kerrsburg in the Eastern Province. They rarely make it to Almedea, but when they do, Thad always stops in to say hello and catch up on things. Can you believe he hadn't heard about the Sub-Minister's murder?"

"If he's from that far away, it isn't really surprising. I suppose you filled him in?" The vampire's smile was condescending, but the girl didn't seem to notice. She was too busy getting defensive.

"I didn't say anything inappropriate, Minister. Honest I didn't."

"I'm sure, not, Janise. Not get back to work, please. We have a lot to catch up on."

"Yes, Minister."

The vampire left as the clerk began pouring over documents. A Were asking questions about Ferintal. This was too soon after the Sub-Minister's death to be a coincidence. It would have to find out more about this Thad Grouseman, and soon. He would be much easier to dispose of before he fully changed. Perhaps he could even be persuaded to change sides.

[Davian]

Davian stared into his mug of ale. The surface had little foam, but his mind wasn't on his beer. The flatness fit his mood fairly well. Davian's normal job included finding and sometimes destroying vampires and that was fairly cut and dry. This business of interacting with government agents, juggling thief den leaders, and trying to find not only vampires but their source was aggravating. His confrontation on the rooftops of the residences near the Administration building had left him with a small clue, but only a small one. The aristocratic and mislead vampire he had destroyed knew very little and had been surviving night to night on cats, dogs, and for all Davian knew, rats as well. The thing had been leading a pitiful life with the only purpose being its own self-degredation. The thought to preserve that vampire's rotten life never then, nor now, crossed his thoughts.

Davian took another sip of the flat beer, looking through the windows of the moderate restaurant in which he now sat, the midday sun glaring off of the clean building walls across the street. It was difficult to assess what to do next. His only lead pointed straight back into the RAB, although it could just as readily be a scribe or transcriptionist nearby. Not terribly likely though since his last victim didn't know of his whereabouts. So the one that attacked the aristocrat left him for the future as little more than one more pawn in a bigger game. Perhaps it was time to go find Griffin and compare notes. Draining the remaining beer and finishing off the crust of bread he had purchased, Davian stood and glanced around. The crowd was tiny midday here, perhaps it would be thicker in the evening, certainly nothing to note in this place.

What Davian failed to catch as he swept from the small building was the glance by a kitchen servant in the back who was peeking around the doorframe. The man's clothing was dirty even for a kitchen worker. And torn in more than one place. The man turned back to the kitchen and hastily scribbled a note on a piece of paper, slipping out of the door to the stables. Soon after, a young stable boy with a fresh bruise around his eye walked from the stable with the note in one hand and a biscuit in the other heading in the direction opposite Davian.

The note said little, anyone intercepting it would have seen a very poorly written scrap with the words 'dead killer active and looking'. Delivered to the right hands, however, the note let the leadership of the were beasts know that Davian had been spotted and was apparently searching. They knew of his presence at the brothel fire, for there were dead were-brethren in the ashes, their corpses not entirely burnt up by the flames. They had been killed by blade not burnt. A pair of red reflective eyes sat in the near darkness of a rank cave a few levels underneath the cities sewage system, digesting the newest fragment of information. It sat perfectly still, the only apparent movement, the flicker of eyelids blotting out the reflective redness within. A few more pieces were needed and then they would hunt this killer of brethren and destroy him. He was just an annoyance in their conquest of the vampires in this hateful city. This war was costly. But, it was costly on both sides and for anyone caught in-between.

Wandering away from the tavern, Davian took his time and made one more circuit of the surrounding neighborhood, this time by the light of day. He searched for any sign of darkened windows or unkempt property that still had an apparent owner. One such place existed, so Davian noted where it was and continued on his way. No point in arousing local suspicion by waltzing in in broad daylight.

[Griffin]

The sunlight was just fading away behind the neighboring buildings as Griffin stepped into his flat. His nose was immediately assaulted by the aroma of vegetable stew and frying sausages.

"You're early," he said.

Kelisharii looked up from her post before the fire. "I thought you might appreciate a home cooked meal for a change."

"You thought right." Griffin was surprised that Kelisharii was here, but rather than annoy him as it had the night before, her presence filled him with a sense of comfort. So this is what it felt like to come home, as opposed to simply stopping somewhere to sleep.

"Let me change and I'll be right out."

"No hurry, I wasn't expecting you for a while yet, so the food still needs some time."

Griffin moved into the bedroom, shutting the door behind him. He wasn't sure why he did that. Modesty was not normally something that affected him, especially not around Kelisharii, but for some reason, he felt an urge to be alone while he undressed. The feeling was uncomfortable, so Griffin avoided dwelling on it by reviewing the information he had obtained at the RAB.

His late start had worked against him. Griffin had been unable to track down anyone who could verify the identity of the mysterious grain factor. That task would need to be tackled tomorrow. He had, however, found out a great deal of information about Rishmalian silk. None of it gave him the slightest clue as to why Sub-Minister Ferintal had been killed.

Rishmalian silk had a modest trade in Almedea. It wasn't the rarest of silks, or the best quality, and as such was favored by the wealthier middle class merchant families. Nobles of lesser rank made do with it when money pouches were light. The revenues brought in by the tariff on the silk were moderate at best. Griffin was no economist, but he was willing to bet that if tariffs were reduced the resulting drop in price would increase sales volumes sufficiently to more than make up for any loss in revenues - hence the Sub-Minister's campaign for the reduction.

Who would be against such an obviously beneficial situation? Not the silk merchants. Their profits would increase as both their margins and their volume went up. Not the Treasury, the Sub-Minister would never have started such a campaign in the first place if he thought the kingdom would lose funds. The clients? The merchant customers were unlikely to care, but the nobility.... Yes, the lesser nobility might care. If more people were given access to their only affordable supply of a rich fabric, the gulf separating nobility from commoner would be that much narrower.

Still, the conclusion that some minor noble would have a Sub-Minister murdered over the loss of prestige was laughable. Even if that noble was a vampire. _Especially_ if that noble was a vampire. The brutal killing of such a high profile kingdom official was bound to cause a full-scale investigation - something a vampire could not afford over something as petty as a loss of prestige. It made no sense.

Then there was the matter of why an alleged grain factor would care about tariffs on silk. That matter had Griffin completely baffled.

He sighed as he removed the last of his disguise and slipped into a simple cotton tunic and trousers. Hopefully he would find more answers tomorrow.

When he returned to the kitchen, Kelisharii was setting the table. She refused to let him help, so he sat and watched her as she ladled stew onto a plate, then piled on several sausages. Griffin's mouth watered and he realized he hadn't eaten for hours.

"This smells wonderful."

Kelisharii smiled. "It's my granddam's recipe." She filled her own plate then sat across from him. They ate in silence. Griffin thoroughly enjoyed the food. After two helpings he was forced to push the plate away.

"That was delicious, but I couldn't eat another bite."

"You ate enough for two as it was."

Griffin let the comment slide. Kelisharii started to clean up the table.

"At least you can let me help with the dishes."

Kelisharii's eyes hardened. "Don't you insult me, Thaddeus Griffin. You've been busy all day. I will take care of this."

Griffin acquiesced. He didn't want a fight, not after such a pleasant meal. "Actually, I wasn't out the whole day. That potion of yours really knocked me for a loop. I didn't get up until noon. Is there a way to counteract the soporific effects?"

Kelisharii scraped a plate into a waste bucket. "Not without interfering with potency."

"Then I'd like to take tonight's dose now. If I'm going to be dead to the world for a time, I'd prefer it ended earlier tomorrow morning as opposed to later."

Kelisharii paused for the briefest instant before answering. "As you wish."

The pause triggered Griffin's instincts. As she moved to the fire to retrieve the water kettle, Griffin allowed his eyes to shift to his auric sight. He studied her aura for a moment.

When she set the kettle on the table Griffin said, "There's something you aren't telling me. You're struggling to make a decision. Maybe I can help."

Kelisharii glared at him for moment. Griffin could see the indecision swirling in her aura. She was contemplating lying to him. He was relieved when she didn't.

"I put a sleeping draught in your tea with the Wolf's Bane last night."

"Why?"

"Because you were dead on your feet. Because I knew you would only sleep for a few hours and then be up before dawn, running around the city."

"That should have been my decision."

Her face tightened. Griffin saw her emotions churning in her. Her face reddened and tears came to her eyes.

"Maybe so," she said. Her voice was strained. "Maybe it should have been, but I know you, Thaddeus and it would have been the wrong one. You've been infected by lycanthropy, Thad - lycanthropy! This isn't something you just take a few herbs for and then expect it to go away. You're going to need all your strength to fight this...."

"And you didn't trust me to get the rest you think I need."

Her lips formed a thin line. She grabbed a mug and slammed it to the table. She filled it with hot water then took a pouch from her pocket and dumped in the contents.

"No extras this time. Get as much sleep as you like." She started for the door.

"Kelisharii, you don't have to go." She kept moving. "Kelisharii...."

She wrenched open the door then whirled to face him.

"You might be surprised to know that there are people who aren't out to get you, Griffin. People who actually care for you - who have your best interests at heart even if you're too blind to see it."

The door slammed shut behind her.

A thought flashed through his mind - a memory - of lavender on his clothing as he awoke that morning and Griffin suddenly felt like he had made a very big mistake.

[Davian]

Some time later, he had decided to return to the Inn where he had rested the day before, the drag of time was wearing on him. Aspia had departed his presence almost a full day before and it was time to take a rest, if for no other reason than to be away from people to gather his thoughts.

Passing the RAB, its walkway freshly swept and rinsed clean of the day's visitor impact, Davian came up short. The middle-classed man who had just exited the building was familiar. Too familiar actually. Turning into a shop that was not yet closed, Davian kept his eyes on the direction that the man traveled and waited. Apparently Griffin had been in the RAB looking for answers to their vexing questions. His wait was justified, as the sun was beginning to fall behind the buildings casting the entire street into twilight, a woman exited the building, staring down the street in his direction. Great, some infatuated lover. Odd that she was wearing robes of office though. She watched for a moment more and then spun on her heel and strode back into the building. She had a purpose in mind, of that he was positive.

Taking Griffin's path down the street, Davian sprinted to catch up. It was just as he entered an upstairs apartment in a serene square that Davian finally caught up with him. Unfortunately, it appeared that Griffin, it indeed it was the soldier, had a visitor. He could see two shadows moving about inside the apartment. Davian opted to wait outside in the square, he had no need to hurry and did not want anyone else knowing of his involvement with such an apparently well-to-do merchant type.

His wait wasn't long by his own reckoning. The time gave him the opportunity to think through the events and organize them somewhat. The RAB was definitely involved, they knew that from the beginning. What was more, they had three dead important types if the two they understood the history of were any indication. He destroyed a weakling vampire that was not a part of the operation of the unit within the RAB. That vampires master had smelled of ink. Admittedly a weak clue, but it was the only thing he had to run on. He possibly had the man's house located as well. What next? As he thought about the course they should take, his patience was rewarded by a slamming door. A woman stormed out of the apartment, tears shining in the last shred of daylight, grumbling under her breath with small sobs escaping. He recognized the woman as the gypsy that had visited them in the inn previously. So apparently Griffin had more interest in this woman than he let on. Davian gave an internal shrug and let Kelisharii pass without drawing attention to himself. He needed to speak to Griffin alone.

Sweeping up the stairs he knocked on Griffin's door. Hard enough to sound like a legitimate visitor. It was time to plan the next step.

[Griffin]

The knock came so soon following Kelisharii's departure that Griffin almost thought she was coming back. The notion was fleeting. If Kelisharii had wanted to come back in, she would have come back in. No knocking needed.

Griffin was so rarely home he almost didn't answer the door. Kelisharii's unexpected moodiness had left a foul taste in his mouth, however, and dealing with a visitor would give him a chance to settle himself. Or so he thought, until he peaked through the spy hole and saw who was on his porch.

M'Reaoux!

Griffin stood back from the door and opened it just enough for his erstwhile partner to enter.

"I'll have to say, this is a surprise," he said as he shut the door behind the vampire hunter. "You're either extremely well connected, extremely talented or extremely lucky to have found me here. My best guess says a little of each."

[Davian]

Davian slid in the partially open door and grinned in response to Griffin's veiled query. He knew it would drive the man mad thinking a lowly thief hunter had pried his way into his personal life. Other than the grin, he did not volunteer any information right away.

Crinkling his nose at the herbal stink coming from the table, Davian moved over and tried to mentally place the smell of the tea. It was unfamiliar to him, but certainly smelled horrid. Must have been some part of his disguise process.

"Kelisharii poison your tea and leave in a huff?" he asked as Griffin verified the door was closed.

Griffin gave away little of whatever emotion was behind his eyes. "That is not your concern..."

"Oh," Davian blurted out, interrupting Griffin's response to his playful banter. "As you were leaving the Administration building, I saw your fanclub watching you wander down the road. She looked like she had a goal in mind." Davian grinned at Griffin again, even though he looked slightly confused. "Playing two sides of the field at once are you?" It was meant to be a joke, but the confusion did not seem to vanish.

[Griffin]

Griffin bolted the door and returned to the table. M'reaoux's cavalier remark about Kelisharii's visit had hit too close to home and he found himself more than a little irritated by it. Davian's interruption didn't help matters. His comment about the fan club, however, perked Griffin's interest immediately. The annoyance was forgotten.

"Fan club?" There were several women Griffin had flirtatious relationships with at the RAB - Thad Grouseman was quite the ladies' man - and it aided his information gathering tremendously. This didn't sound like something one of those women would do. "What did the woman look like?"

[Davian]

Griffin's lack of response initially made Davian think that perhaps they had another clue. But his question about the way the woman looked made it all the more pertinent. Davian took a seat, but pushed the tea further away from himself, the stuff really was noxious.

Giving himself a moment to try and recall every detail he could, he gave Griffin the description. "Slightly tall for a woman, wearing black official looking over-gown. Stood very erect, as though she were used to power. Her hair was dark, but not black, her skin fairly pale." Davian added that to the growing list of possibilities. "Not really more pale than expected of someone who spends her time indoors. The only other tidbit I can recall, especially with her gowned the way she was, were the sturdy and tight black leather boots she wore. They looked well worn, serviceable, although well maintained as well."

Davian shook his head, there were wasn't any more than that. "She stormed back inside in a very objective way, if you know what I mean. She had a purpose.

"Sounds like anyone you've done business with?"

[Griffin]

"The general physical description fits many of the women who work at the RAB. The black over-gown, however, limits the field dramatically. Over-gowns are only worn by top-level kingdom officials: ministers, sub-ministers, magistrates and the like. I can think of only two individuals in those positions that match the physical requirements you've described - Sub-Minister Loecca of the Ministry of Education and Magister Traversto of the Justice Ministry."

Griffin thought back to his movements earlier that day. He had been in both offices, and while he couldn't recall having seen either of the two officials, it was entirely possible that they had seen him. He didn't know either woman personally and it took a moment for him to dig up from his memory any distinguishing features which might allow Davian to identify the watcher.

"Loecca often has ink stained fingers from her extensive work creating and cataloguing documents. Traversto sometimes cocks her head to the left when she's contemplating a serious decision. Ring any bells?"

[Davian]

Davian sat and stared at Griffin. "Amazing," he said after a silent pause. "Almost too amazing really." He stood from his place at the table and began to pace, his long legs carrying him across the span of the room in two strides where he spun and repeated the movement.

"The ink. That vampire last night mentioned that his master smelled of ink. He claimed it was a male, although I got no other details so that might be irrelevant. The one clear memory he had of being attacked and transformed into a vampire was the smell of ink on his master."

Davian stopped in his tracks, looking back at Griffin. "Do you think that tenuous link could be real? Could we have so readily identified the vampire?" He did not think it likely that things would occur so readily, although he would accept his luck if they had.

"I am not into politics, what should our next step be? Waltzing into the RAB fully armed and killing the bitch would certainly create a stir in town." He grinned and it wasn't a pleasant site as he contemplated killing on of the vile beasts.

[Griffin]

"Vampire last night?"

Griffin listened attentively as Davian described his encounter from the night before.

"Interesting. I find it hard to believe that we simply walked into the master vampire simply by asking a few questions at the RAB, but I suppose anything is possible."

Griffin fingered the handle on the mug of tea. "Taking her in the RAB would be a bad move. It would publicize what the Council wants under wraps and likely put quite a few innocent people at risk. Not to mention hassle we'd have of getting into the building fully armed."

The tea had cooled to the point where it would no longer scald him to drink it. He took a sip. It was nastier than he remembered. The sleeping draught must have altered the taste for the better. Not wanting to prolong the inevitable, he swallowed the remainder of the cup as quickly as possible. His gag reflex kicked in, but he managed to keep the stuff down.

"No wonder the lycanths don't like this stuff. The taste is almost enough to kill you outright."

Griffin set the mug back on the table.

"I think our best course of action is going to be drawing the vampire out. I still need to ask a few more questions at the RAB to get a good idea of exactly what went down in the murder chain. I'll make sure I get seen in both departments - just in case - and mention meeting someone later to discuss the murders. Then we set up a little reception in the vampire's honor in a place of our choosing."

[Davian]

"Sounds like a plan. I'll spend tomorrow getting us some supplies in hand in case we need them. That pouch of money should have been delivered from your boss by now. I can use that to buy supplies and plant rumors."

Davian settled back across from Griffin, his nose wrinkling at the heinous smell coming from the now empty mug on the table.

"So where are we going to do this? It's your city and you know it best. I would only suggest a fairly open place, with little space to hide and no overhead construction. I've seen really irate vampires claw their way across ceilings and I would prefer to not have this one drop onto my head." He smiled innocently at Griffin, "unless of course you want to see if you can pick up another mild infection."

[Griffin]

"One infection at a time, thank you."

Griffin thought for a moment. "There's a place not far from the elder hostel that fits your requirements - The Hill. It's an old, open air amphitheater that fell into disuse about fifteen years ago when the Royal Opera House opened. It gets its name because it was built directly into a hillside. It's perimeter is guarded by a fairly high thorn hedge that keeps people out, but within it's very open. The occasional traveling troupe will rent the place from the city for a week or two every year for performances, but for the most part it stands vacant. The only other use it gets is by those who wish to conduct business dealings in an open area, away from prying eyes."

At Davian's nod of approval, Griffin rose from the table and fetched a small pouch from his nightstand. He tossed it to the vampire hunter. It made a clinking noise as Davian caught it.

"There should be enough gold there to meet your needs. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to get a little sleep. No need to give this infection more to work with than it already has."

[Davian]

Davian concluded his discussion with Griffin early. It appeared that Griffin was at least thinking about that scratch of his and trying to do something for it. He would leave it well enough alone at that and hope nothing came of it. Griffin looked tired as Davian took his leave. He sure hoped nothing came of it, he didn't want to have an additional fight on his hands.

Davian glanced up at the haze that showed were the moon was and that it was nearing full. He almost sighed aloud. So preoccupied with that contemplation was he, that he missed the shifting of shadows as he passed a stack of barrels on the side of the road. Something had been watching his progress and darted off faster than a human could run. It would have sent Davian into a pursuit had he seen it. Instead, he meandered down the dark road lost in his own dark thoughts.

He needed to find Aspia or perhaps Lian himself. Things were about to come to a boiling point if he was any judge of the situation. An apparently irrate vampire hiding out in the RAB who had a new target. Certainly enough to trigger them to act if only to protect themselves.

It took him nearly an hour of walking around to find the house where he had met Lian previously. He had stopped and gone through the building where he had first run into Aspia and the place had been empty. Quite an operation if they kept rotating their positions regularly. Very discreet and professional. He expected no less from Lian though. He was allowed to enter immediately on arrival and was flanked, as last time, by two agents. They had seen him coming. Heck, he thought to himself, they probably saw him slip through the other building earlier.

His escort remained silent, but stood just out of range on either side of him, fairly at ease. Certainly not the types to be trifled with. Neither was a large man, but both had that dangerous way of standing and moving about them. He was left standing there in the silence for nearly a second hour before being given an audience with Lian. The place was functionally appointed, no doubt about that. It appeared to be a fairly middle-class merchants home. Gaudy baubles stood on shelves and in alcoves, devoid of any real value except that they looked pretty. Just what you would expect from a merchant's wife's perspective. The carpets were plush enough to muffle most sound, but not too expensive, and the flowers left around the place were fresh. He wondered if there was actually someone who "lived" in the place during the day.

Lian was as he had seen him before. Totally engaged in what he was reading on the desktop. That desk still sent chills up Davian's spine. He knew that it wasn't wood. It was ivory, and from the size of the slabs, the bones used to make it were not from pets. He seriously doubted the man would use a horse's bones to make such an ornate desk. That desk was a message in and of itself. One Davian wasn't likely to ignore. That message also spoke of a huge potential for its owner to be manipulated like a weapon. A very sharp and dangerous weapon.

Davian took a seat without waiting for an offer. Lian waved a hand and the two escorts turned and left. Again without a whisper of sound. Davian casually watched them leave and waited.

"I assume Aspia was not much use to you?" Lian asked without raising his head from his paper, as his quill scratched a rapid signature across the page.

"I had nothing she could be of assistance with at the time. That has changed." Davian would not engage in small talk, it wasn't necessary.

Lian placed his quill pen aside. Davian noticed that it had a metal tip. Very high quality and more than likely a weapon as well in Lian's hands.

"I believe I've have located at least one of those responsible for the recent murders of city officials. Not only that, but I believe she is ready to act. Very likely at any time she's given the opportunity. So, I'll provide that opportunity."

"We, you mean."

Davian paused and looked at Lian, he wasn't meaning himself. He knew about Griffin, or at least that he had a partner. That was really no surprise. He continued as though it were of no consequence, "we'll leave ourselves exposed and in the open tomorrow night." Davian outlined the generic plan for Lian, not letting onto any more specifics than he had to. He wanted a helping hand nearby, but he didn't want to ruin the fun for himself or get he or Griffin into trouble in the interim.

The meeting was short, Lian not offering any plans, only saying that he would think it over. Davian expected little else, but knew that Lian would have people placed nearby, even might show up himself. The man hated vampires with a passion that matched, if not exceeded, his own. Davian expected that Aspia would show up again sometime that night or the following day even. He kept that in mind as he openly walked his way back to the Inn she had shown him to. He even passed a trio of city guards on the way, each giving a nod to the other as they passed.

Back in his room, he relaxed and waited for the city to re-awaken. He had some banking and some planting to do in the morning.