Robin took another long draw out of the carotid artery, feeling the woman's body writhe and spasm in his hands. Her soft skin would slowly be draining of color as he emptied her life force from her. He never compelled them into his bed, never compelled them to silence nor being still.

No! He would lull each into a sense of hope, feeling their emotions wane as he promised undying love for them as the ecstasy from the night proved too much for them to keep their guard up. Then, in the height of it all, he would begin the feed only stopping to see the realization of hopelessness on their faces, that they would always be the prey.

It was that look he wanted to be left on their face after they stopped breathing. If it was there, then their heads were added to his growing collection. Something to amuse him from time to time and to help him remind his enemies what would happen to them if they wished to stand against him. There, standing amidst those heads in a place of such esteemed honor, was his father's.

A knock came at the bedroom door. Robin lifted his head briefly, calling the interloper into his bedroom, not bothering to cover up his naked body nor the body of tonight's entertainment. He carefully reinserted his fangs, making sure to keep the venom spurs that were located behind his fangs in the hard palate from contacting with her skin.

An embarrassed cough of a man clearing his throat. Robin's sensitive hearing could pick up the last flutter of the human's little heart. The Shtriga detached with a satisfied sigh and finally looked at his visitor.

"AH! Sampson, I trust you are back with some news," Robin pushed the woman off unceremoniously and lightly got to his feet. He grabbed a robe to make his Dhampir feel better.

"Is that better Ol' Chap? I wish Shtriga could blush the way you Dhampir can. It would make for a damn fine time at assembly," he gave Sampson a genuine smile of friendship, "So, our Dhampir disappears on the overworld, and the feared Ms. Karen returns with the lifeless husk of our dearly departed crown prince. I could kiss that lad out there right now. Offer him the Writ of Port Sigur in my house just to spite Gerald. What news after?"

"Karen has left again." Sampson's deep voice still trying to carry far enough to find an unmuffled wall to echo from.

"What?!?" Robin hissed as he wheeled about, astounded.

"My Vetalas trailed her from a very far distance for a while but she was holding a course, unwavering south. Last I heard, the boy had crossed into Bucharest territory."

Robin looked thoughtfully at the ground, "Well, my old friend. Do you still have those contacts in Lousiana? We might not have to wait for Gerald's natural death after all," Robin's light purple eyes shown with anticipation, "If the Grand Maestru of Bucharest finds out that Gerald has violated the Territory Truces without the consent of the council, he will take care of our leader by himself and avert a war. "

"I still have my contacts Master," Sampson said with a slight smile.

"Good," Robin replied with a slight nod, "Get a message through to them about what is going on, and oh, I have new artwork that needs to be prepared."

"Kyle..."

The voice called out to him from a great distance, echoing back into his innermost being, causing pain. It was not his true name. He had been living a lie against a code that had been taught to him from birth. Honor, distinction, sacrifice, bravery...and he had ignored all those things as it slowly eroded at his inner energies. The name hurt the most. You were taught to never hide from your enemies but to confront them.

"Kyle..."

The name came with a forceful shake this time and a bounce. He slowly came to and noticed that they were in the back of a truck. He was bound, both hand and feet, with thick cables, meant for constraining both Shtriga and Dhampir. Jane was beside him, clenching his arm but unbound, and his captor sat across from him, smiling at him somewhat amused.

"We all inherit different traits from our Shtriga parents. You see, my father happened to be extraordinarily strong, one of the ceremonial warrior cast members in Bucharest. I am blessed with his strength," The big man gave a slight flex of his muscles to punctuate his statement.

Jane glared at him, angrily, "Narccisst much?"

"Can't be this good-looking dear without being one," he said with a small chuckle.

Jane looked back at Kyle, "What is going on here? Why are these people after us."

"So no questions about how fast everyone was moving, feats of strength, or weird names?" the big man asked intently. Jane just looked at him with a puzzled look, "Well, this is a fortuitous turn of events. Kyle, now I know my Master just must talk with you."

"Jane," he began slowly, "You remember back when we first met, I said I was running from my past, things that went bump in my night?"

She nodded but said nothing.

"It has finally caught me, and I think it might have swallowed you whole."