"Duncan." I addressed the man as I got down from my horse, feeling my body creak ominously in many places from the long ride. A small red haired boy with numerous freckles rushed from behind the house and came to take the horse. My tired horse regarded the boy with regal indifference but allowed himself to be led.

Duncan wrinkled his crooked nose and three thin lines formed upon his forehead as he concentrated on me. I had taken the man by surprise indeed and it was unsettling just how much he was trying to not be affected. I smirked.

"You would have sent a man ahead my Lord. We would have been better prepared to receive you. I only heard of your arrival a few minutes so I apologize if our last minute arrangements are not up to standard." The man explained, his hands wringing together in patterns that only a seasoned spell caster like him would be able to do with such ease. He wasn't casting a spell, no, but he was nervous. He struggled hard to control his heart rate from my sensitive ears but I was as old as old got. The man was hiding something. But what.

He then extended his hand to me for a handshake but I just regarded it with only mild interest and spoke instead

"Lead the way Duncan. I am tired from my travels." I said and looked back towards the door even though I was observing the man in my peripheral vision. He took my rejection poorly and his face colored easily in distaste. His mouth turned down and something flashed in his eyes. That was when I remembered why I never really liked the man very much even when he was still Lyra's second. There had always been something mousy and suspicious about him. Like he was always doing something he was not supposed to be doing.

When I returned my full gaze on his, he neutralized his look and let out a small breath. I smirked again at his attempt of being neutral.

"Of course My Lord. Pardon my indifference. This way." He spoke and with a gesture of his hand he led the way to the house. Only then, did my men get down from their horses. I turned and gave a nod at one of them to keep the perimeter secure and I followed Duncan.

The door flung open on its own accord when he reached it and my brow raised, impressed. The magic in this place was so old and so powerful it chilled me down to my bones. Such power was enough to make a newly turned vampire run mad. I suppose it was part of their defenses as well. I felt it but I was not affected negatively. My mother had been a born witch after all.

You see, my mother and Aunt were two of the greatest witches from one of the oldest covens in the whole of Lakaiyah. As a young man, my father, the great and now late El Diavolul had been greedy for power and might and so he acquired magic by all means necessary. He also became a vampire in that quest for power somehow. He thought he could transfer power by old and ancient methods so he married my mother, a great witch to bare him children. His grand plan was to sire children of a great witch and have children who were both vampire and witch. Then with old magic from the covens, he would transfer our power to him. Well that was a total failure.

While I and my brothers Dalkyr, Isaak and Lucien were only born vampires, the very first after our father, our sister was a witch. Our father did try to transfer the powers but that failed and that failure drove him mad. Even more mad than he was. Anyway, despite my lack of powers, from my family tree you could see that I had witch blood and could feel strong magic.

"I did a little redecorating once Lyra...died." Duncan explained as we got into a lit hallway and his words hesitated while his heartbeat picked up when he spoke of Lyra dying. I raised a brow but didn't comment on it. I looked into the hallway. Redecorating was an understatement. He had changed the entire place.

Where there had been magical items and a hallway of portraits of the ancestors and former leaders of the Ragna coven was now an empty walled hallway except for one large and very ugly picture of Duncan. I wondered how the other coven members had felt about it. Taking off a former leader's portrait and their personal items was almost like taking away their magical contribution from the coven. It must not have gone well. The man looked nervous but at the same time his ego was massive enough to fill the entire hallway. He looked smug about what he had done.

"I see." I offered simply. It was witch politics and the treaty of supernatural beings stated that I was not to get involved unless it affected me and the rest of the territory directly.

We passed more hallways, meeting more witches and warlocks here and there, some old friends of a sort and we acknowledged each other. The place was very different, having an off feeling attached to it but maybe it was just the change of the ruling bloodline.

We arrived at the room that I usually stayed in when I came here and there were a few slaves inside doing finishing arranging touches. When they saw me, they all bowed their heads, and rushed outside but not before saying "Welcome My Lord." I didn't pay attention to them and instead stepped into the room with Duncan. The magic here practically sung. The beat and rhythm of the magical cords in here were familiar and soothing. They had been a bit modified but I recognized the pattern. My mother had set up one of the ground magical wards in this place. The presence of her magic was comforting.

"I'll leave you to settle in my Lord. A blood slave will be sent up for you...." Duncan started to say but I interrupted him.

"Call a coven meeting. We have a lot of things to discuss don't you think Duncan?" I spoke sternly and the man halted, his face darkening considerably at the weight of my words. It may sound like I was looking down on him but he was below me and something didn't sit right about him with me.

"As you wish my Lord." He bowed stiffly, his hands wringing more. I watched the movement with interest. When he rose again, he paused, and then spoke.

"Will you need the blood slave before the meeting my Lord?" I thought about it. I had not had a blood slave in so many years. I had lost the taste for them.

"No. I shall take my blood in a glass. My men will need the slaves." I spoke and he raised both brows in interest. My expression dared him to comment on it but then he kept quiet, bowed again and left, locking the door behind him.

I made sure he was really gone and then sighed, running my hand through my head. My head was pounding like a siren was singing in it and my entire body was weary and exhausted. There was just too much going on. When would I ever have some sort of reprieve?

Lady Karayan had been out to get a new slave after her previous one ended up suspiciously dead when I left. They must be back by now. I still frowned upon the use of slaves but I was a leader and the South was already in too much panic at the moment. Banishing the use of slaves might spark a war. One I was not in the mood for.

Lady Karayan would be on top of things once she was back. She was not my second in command for nothing. So at least I was at ease on that front. I let out a deep sigh again and walked to the adjoining washroom.

'ordddd.....my Lord......' A croaky small voice whispered in my ear from deep within the troubled dream I had been dreaming and I woke up with a start. It was completely dark out and the room had been immersed in darkness. The voice was unfamiliar and I had had my fair share of spooky moments but for some reason, the hair on my body stood on end and I went into alert, my fangs aching to be released.

I waited for a bit...listening for the voice but I heard nothing more. That was strange. That was very strange. After my bath, I had fallen into a very deep slumber and that voice had woken me up. I ran a hand across my face. Just as I was about to leave it be, the voice came again.

'Find me my Lorddddd....find meeeee. You are not safe." The voice called out like a whispered echo carried in the wind. I stood up with a start trying to find the source. There was no one else in the room but me. Had I finally gone mad?

"Who are you? What do you want?" I called out into the nothingness. The voice paused and then that chilling feeling settled over me again.

"Find meeeeee." It spoke again. I was about to call out once more when the door opened and the face of a curly haired, dark skinned old witch peered through the door. The second she opened the door, the eerie stillness lifted from the room.

"Sorry for the intrusion. I knocked and there was no reply. The coven awaits your presence my Lord." The witch spoke with a small bow. I looked one last time around the room but the voice, the presence was gone. It was unsettling but I shook my head and nodded my head at the witch, dismissing her.

"I shall be right there."