Madame Butterfly filtered through the expensive apartment, decorated oddly, abstract sculpture on one side, French Impressionist art on the other. Red and black, bright, angry colors in some rooms, neutrals, beige, brown, gray, and white in others. For some reason, it seemed to fit. The air was lightly scented with perfume and roses. An Asian woman, tall, poised, sat on a comfortable looking couch, half-asleep, flipping a cell-phone in the air with one hand, arranging red roses in a hand-blown vase with the other. The opera continued. The girl rolled her eyes. "It's not the first time you've lost one of those freaks. Stop being a drama-queen." The sound of heels clicking in another room, the shuffling of cloth. The song changed, a piano solo. "Cut it out," the woman said. "Stop moping. We'll find them again." "Not the point, Celeste. Failure is not an option." The second voice was colder, slightly hinted with an Italian accent. She pronounced her words carefully, as if she played around with them in her mouth before she spoke them. "I don't answer people who talk to me from other rooms," Celeste said. She looked and sounded bored, played with a silver bracelet on her arm, watched it flicker against the light. A curse in some sort of foreign language, then angry, quick steps into the living room. Celeste stopped arranging the flowers, stopped playing with her phone. She stared at the woman in front of her. "The dead has arisen," she drawled. "Done beating yourself up?" "Quite. Thank you for your backwards, yet well-meaning concern. Have they called?" Celeste shook her head, the other woman sat down, crossing her long legs in front of her. Celeste wore black slacks, a red shirt, a black jacket, deceptively simple, but more than likely incredibly expensive. Her silver jewelry, bracelets, rings, a necklace, tinkled at any slight movement, played an odd, discordant song. She tapped her boots on the wood floor. One, two, three taps. It matched the melody of her bracelets. She was only an inch shorter than the other woman, but toned, stronger. Her eyes, an odd mix of gold and silver, flickered like fire, warm and cold. She hummed a song, and the other woman leaned against the couch. Her skirt hiked up slightly, she sniffed and pulled it back into place. "I do hate skirts," she said. "Why are you still dressed like that? The meeting ended hours ago," Celeste muttered. She had slipped out of her own work clothes as soon as the meeting ended. She hated business meetings, so boring. It took all her power to keep awake, to continue listening to those droning middle-aged men talk to her as if she was too stupid to understand anything. She was no dippy secretary. She was a powerhouse, and damn proud of it. "Because we'll probably have another soon." This woman was dressed for work, black business suit, crisp, off-white shirt, her long brown hair up in a severe bun. She wore a watch, and a necklace, both gold, decorated with tiny diamonds. She seemed to be more fine-boned than Celeste, with high cheekbones, a long neck, cold golden eyes. Her skin was darker, like mocha. Her cell phone was silver, sleek against her hip. Wire framed glasses, used more for show than actual need, sat at the tip of her nose. The cell phone on her hip vibrated, she jumped slightly, then answered. "SpYder Incorporated, C&M Division, Mia Repiamseu speaking. Yes. I understand. Thank you." The call ended, she smiled and leaned against the couch. Curiosity tugged at Celeste and she frowned, forced to take the bait. "What happened?" Mia turned to face her friend, her eyes glittered. She looked absolutely giddy. "The queen has returned." Celeste groaned, rubbed her temples. "Jesus pogosticking fucking Christ. Great. Now on top of Demando's grunts, we have to deal with the crazy bitches." "Such language," Mia laughed, spun around. "Don't you get it? We'll have more fun than we did in college." "I dumped a lot of guys in college. I um, studied. I don't know what you did." Celeste raised an eyebrow. "What did you do?" Mia scoffed. She almost seemed to pout. "Well, that's no fun." Celeste gawked at her. "Did you do drugs?" "Heaven's, no!" "Did you drink?" "Rarely." Celeste thought for a moment. Then she cringed, covered her face with a pillow. "You freak. You are such a freak. That's why you don't date anymore." Mia laughed. "Well, I lived in a boarding school half my life. I had to do something with all that free time. Sowing my wild oats and all that." Celeste threw a pillow at her. "Who gave you the hint?" Mia threw the pillow back. "A private caller. Name didn't show up on my caller ID." Celeste caught the pillow. "Is the voice familiar?" "Not really." "You should have tracked the call." "The call was five seconds. And what are we, the CIA?" "We're better. We're big business." "Hm. Are we working tonight?" "Let Her Majesty get settled in. Plus, I have a headache. That meeting...all that cigar smoke. How can you stand it?" "I smoked once. Cigarettes. A casual thing. Do it sometimes, every once in a blue moon, to ease my nerves." "Ugh. If I die of second-hand smoke, I'll haunt you for the rest of your life." "You'll be too busy with your brutal takeover of Hell to pay me any mind." "Touché." ~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~ "Are you comfortable?" Silence. Demando frowned, raking his fingers through his short, silver hair. Apparently Serenity did not see the need to speak to him. She would have to eventually. "Perhaps you would like something to drink?" Nothing. Her followers had acknowledged him, even spoke, referred to him as "Lord." But he had seen that their sincerity did not reach their eyes, that there was irony laced in those polite tones. No matter, he did not need their approval centuries ago; he did not need it now. But Serenity was different. She was special. He had not wanted to hurt her guest, to destroy her home, but it was necessary to escape. Serenity fled when she had somewhere to go. If she did not, then she would stay. At least, he hoped so. He smiled at her, and was not surprised when she did not return it. "I gave you your own room, as you can see. Your er, your girls have their own rooms as well...unless they requested to share." The two older vampires, Setsuna and Kazuki had. He had given it to them without batting an eyelid. Such things were not unheard of in their groups, usually, it was encouraged. Once bonded, vampires grew stronger, strong enough to destroy hunters easily. But just in case, he had asked his own followers to watch those two. Setsuna was older than he was, considered an ancient among them, and he had seen the almost murderous look her younger mate had given him. Wisdom and motive were dangerous together; he had learned that long ago. "Your room has roses," he continued. "I remember that you liked roses. White and red, if I recall? I put others, pink in some places as well." Still she was quiet. He counted backwards in his head to quell his frustration. "Your room is pink. Pale pink." A pause. "I even had someone get you a pet. A black cat. I haven't given her a name; I reserved that honor for you." "Thank you." Demando blinked in surprise, and then smiled. Finally, she spoke. "You're welcome. Perhaps you would like to join me for dinner?" "Perhaps later." She stared off into space. "I'm not very hungry right now." Demando tried not to sigh in disappointment. "Very well. I'll have a servant see you to your room." With a swish of his cream-colored cloak, he departed, leaving Serenity to her thoughts. "Thank you." She idly ran her fingers across the spot where Rei had shot her, and barely blinked when she heard the door shut quietly behind her. ~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~ "Well..." Ami took a deep, shuddering breath. "That was educational." "Disturbing." Rei muttered. She closed the book, and yawned, brushing stray bangs out of her face. Tired violet eyes came to rest on Mitsuki. "You think we should go look for them?" Mitsuki blinked, startled. "Well, I mean...is it safe? Can't we just leave them alone?" She wrung her hands nervously, and Rei scoffed. "Do what you want. As soon as I get out of here, I'm looking. I bet they're still in Tokyo." "Why can't you just leave well enough alone?" Ami muttered, exasperated. "That's not the way I function. Besides, even though she's nuts, Serenity is nothing compared to this Demando guy, from what I've heard. I wouldn't be surprised if he wanted to start some kind of revolution, an uprising of vampires. He's dangerous. To win a chess game, you have to capture the King." Mitsuki bit her lip, and solemnly replied, "But the Queen is the most dangerous piece of all. She's the strongest, she has all the power of every piece combined. The King needs his defenders. The Queen only needs herself. When you think about it, she could easily control the entire game." Rei had nothing to say to that. ~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~ If I was wrong about that chess reference, don't hesitate to tell me. I suck at chess, but from what I remember, the Queen is one badass piece. Also, I'd like to credit the character Celeste to my friend Etherealist. Usually her character goes around brutally murdering sorcerers, but I thought she'd have a lot of fun putting that energy into vampire hunting. By the way, if you're into vampires and the art of killing them, check out her FFVIII fanfic. Her fight scenes are really amazing.
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