[img]http://i.imgur.com/ofT4L1v.jpg[/img]

[b]Amelia Draculesti[/b]

On the outskirts of town, perched on a densely wooded patch of land in the hills outside town, the morning fog rolling off the ground giving a smoky haze. A surreal blind to the surrounding environment. The mansion was in the neo-Victorian style with a more modern gothic finish to the outer edifice of the building. The gentle glow of light fixtures, the chandelier in the main foyer, and on the second floor to the left of the main hall a gentle glow of candlelight. 

The room was large, with a California king sized bed, a desk with neat stacks of paper and pens held in a dish, whoever lived here was artistic within the realms of calligraphy. Illuminated texts, hand made, were fixed in cases along one wall. The lush carpet was soft to the touch. Heavy black drapes masked the windows, diminishing the blue glow from outside, and giving a pleasant atmosphere. 

[i]pat pat pat[/i]

The pitter-patter of feet on the hardwood floors outside in the hallway resounded down the corridor. A figure dressed in a black tuxedo with a red-black bow tie, coat tails fluttering, moved rapidly down the hallway. Fitting a key into the lock at the door, the handle turned, and the man entered the room with a bead of sweat running down his face. Wiping it away with a handkerchief he faced the Northern wall. 

A second pitter-patter of feet erupted down the hallway, the man turned a second before pulling one of the light fixtures near a book case and it swung out of the way, a second individual came into the room right as the first man was entering from the opening in the wall. A vault door having swung away internally. The second man gave chase. Down the stone, cold, dark passage way they entered a secret bowel of the mansion. Moving into a circular chamber located below the mansion that was finely furnished. But with older antique furniture that would be priceless on today's auctions. Ancient and medieval weaponry hung neatly on wracks on one side, suits of armor on the other, along with plastic wraps pieces of old clothing from various eras. Chests and lockboxes dotted the place. It was cold. Eerily cold. But most of all was the presence of a black coffin in an alcove set into the Western facing wall. 

The first man dropped to his knees before the coffin, "My Lady some--."

The second man erupted in, "A familiar doesn't get to---."

"What. Is all this---ruckus."

Both men froze in place, and slowly turned, a woman dressed in a white gown was behind them. The coffin had been empty. It's occupant stood before them, not decayed, not dried skin hanging limply from bones. No, the woman before them was tall, and most of all her flesh was perfectly intact. Her gorgeous face and body, skin soft and unblemished, lips smooth, eyes of an electric green-yellow, hair like black silk, and it was almost bare to them. The gown not quite see through but made no illusions to her form, bust, and physique. Her eyes bore into them like a cat, like a predator, and the second man gulped. In her right hand was a silver goblet, lifting it to her lips it became clear that the redness of her lips was not natural, a crimson liquid filled the vessel.

"My lady a fami--." the second man made to speak but was cut off by a raised hand from the gorgeous woman before him. "I care not for trivialities so you might as well dispense with the pleasantries Kornelius, or should I leave someone else in charge of my affairs when I sleep?" The second man was silent as he looked at the ground. His tail between his legs. The butler was a familiar, not a vampire, a human retainer. 

"Speak." said the woman to the man kneeling. He looked up at her, "Lady Amelia, there has been a development in Middleborough." A moment of silence as Amelia peered down at the man. Her electric green-yellow eyes locking with his dull brown. He spoke once more, "A body, murder is what the police say, you know what this could mean." 

Amelia's eyes winced, not in fright or surprise, but with a righteous anger. The seething in her voice apparent, "Time to make a social appointment. Does Father Luca still reside within Middleborough?" 

"Yes." replied the familiar. 

"Time for a phone call." said Amelia with a slight smile.