The storm outside rolled through the moors of England, causing rain to beat against the glass windows in sheets. Thunder boomed somewhere off to the north.

The Winslow siblings lounged about in the large library within the family manor, joined by the Count Vlad Dracula Dex. The eldest of the siblings, Thorne, stood by the window, looking out into the rainy night. When the next strike of lightning struck, it illuminated the man's towering figure.

Thorne Winslow was one of the tallest men for his generation at nearly six-foot-six. His chocolate-russet hair was pulled half-back and secured, his hands folded behind him. He turned to look at the other occupants in the room with his hazel-brown eyes.

Hadrian, the second eldest, had taken up residence by the fireplace. His dark auburn hair was also pulled back, showing off the scrape across his face from Logan's blade. It had yet to heal entirely, and the man was pissed the fledge had managed to strike him. He glared at the fire, brooding.

"How long is this going to take?" he asked, his deep voice and British accent sounding like a growl.

"Patience, Brother," Seren warned from his place in a chair as he watched the local witch light the candles on the large desk. She laid out a cloth next, marked with occult symbols, and began to place crystals in their proper place atop them. The youngest Winslow sibling was not quite as tall as his older brothers, with a kind face and demeanor. His golden-brown hair hung loose around his chin and neck, one section tucked back behind an ear. Like his eldest brother, he had a strong nose and high cheekbones and shared his sister's light green eyes.

"This best reveal something," the Count said from the armchair. As was his custom, the immortal was wearing all black from head to toe. His black hair was braided down the back of his head and hung over one shoulder. A silver earring adorned his left ear, his fingers all covered in matching silver rings. He drummed his knuckles on the arms of the chair, his blood-red eyes drilling into the witchcraft items on the wooden surface. "It's pertinent we validate this omen."

"And so we shall," the human said from the opposite side of the desk. She picked up a deck of cards and began to shuffle.

Dracula watched as the witch spread the tarot cards face-down across the table in the shape of a half-circle, spanning across the dark wood in perfect form. He stroked his chin, waiting. He noticed she had her throat covered, the collar of her dress going up to her chin with a wide choker fastened around it.

Smart woman, he thought before his eyes traveled to the Winslow siblings.

Kendall, the only sister of the Winslow vampires, had taken up a position on one of the velvet divans, stretched across it like a cat in heat in a dark blue gown. She sipped from her wine goblet, looking bored, as if she already knew the answer to the question being asked.

Seren stood, relaxed and patient, as Thorne came to join him. He took great care in watching the witch's technique as she arranged the deck. His brothers, on the other hand, were not as tolerant. Thorne was staring down at the cards, his hands braced on the desk, as if trying to silently will them to perform their duties faster than the witch was prepared to reveal their fortunes.

Hadrian played with his favorite dagger as he waited, a scowl placed permanently on his brow.

"Any night now, Agatha," Thorne goaded, his tone irritated.

"You cannot rush Fate, Lord Winslow," the woman responded, her voice light and crisp. "Sometimes Destiny likes to think out all of her options before presenting her final say." She inhaled slowly through her mouth as her eyes closed. The woman held her hands above the cards, palms facing downward to them. "Pueri fata tenebris revelare."

The cards began to move, seeming to vibrate with energy. Seconds after, four shot forward into the empty space on the desk. Three aligned themselves in a row while the fourth sat alone above them. They flipped over to be face-up, revealing their fortune.

The witch opened her eyes and looked at the four-card spread. The stand-alone card showed a man with a crown. "The Emperor," she said, explaining to the vampire elders. "The Dark Child will bring structure, stability, and power—"

"We assumed this already," Thorne said harshly, giving her a glare.

"Silence, Lord Winslow. You grow too hasty," Dracula warned.

She rolled her eyes. "Accompanied by the King of Swords who will teach control and intellect. He is a serious character. They will also be brought forward by the Queen of Cups, who is nurturing and intuitive."

"And the last card, Agatha?" Seren asked, his voice calm.

"The Three of Wands," she named. "It means the reaping of rewards for tireless efforts. Your Dark Child will be hard-working and honest with suitable mentors."

"Whose bloodline do they come from? I want to know where the keys to the lock are," Thorne pressed.

The cards began to shiver again before sliding back into their place. The deck reshuffled itself in a fast movement, making Thorne take a few steps back just as Seren and the Count moved closer. Finally, four more cards came forward to take the original set's place. The first flipped over to face upwards.

"The Lovers," Agatha read the arcana card that sat by itself. "There is passion and choice, two people who unite over all odds... They are destined to be together. Nothing can keep them apart."

The three others slowly flipped.

"The Knight of Swords," she said, looking up at them. "This is not a man to be dealt with lightly. He is fierce, determined, unafraid of a fight. He is not a king on his own, but he is well-known. A warrior. He is tied to the Ace of Wands..." The witch paused, turning her head to the side slightly, looking at the card that was decorated with a wooden wand that blossomed into the sun with petals of a rose, the background full of red roses behind it. "She is his new beginning from his old life, his revelation that there is more to be had than fighting and war. And she is the only one who is fertile to bring forth the Dark Child."

Dracula's eyes widened slowly as he laid eyes on the cards but he quickly regained his resolve so the others did not notice. I should have known... It isn't the Linhall child.

"What does that mean?" Kendall asked sarcastically. She rolled her eyes and took another sip from her goblet. "Brother, surely you don't buy into all this nonsense."

"Hush," Thorne scolded. "Are you saying he can only have children with one woman?"

"It's possible," the witch said, shrugging a shoulder as she stared at the cards. "The cards say that there is only one specific woman who can give the Knight the Dark Child. It isn't just any woman he may take to his bed."

Her dark eyes passed to the fourth and final card. "The Three of Swords. There is much heartbreak for this pair. Someone is trying to keep them apart, and there is betrayal."

"I s'pose the honeymoon never lasts," Kendall admonished with a giggle as she sat up in her seat.

"It is not betrayal of vows, my lady," Agatha warned. "It is betrayal of the mind. She would take any steps to protect him, even if it means pretending her love for him isn't real. Whomever is keeping these two apart has made her feel this is the safest way. But Destiny always finds a way. And when The Lovers are in play, there is no doubt that they will meet and will win the battle before the end."

"Can you tell us who's separating them?" Seren asked. "If we want the Dark Child to save this shadow world, then it's best we remove the wrong part of the puzzle to bring them forth."

The cards flipped over and repeated their act of reshuffling. A single card slid across the wood and turned upwards, revealing a red-skinned demon cloaked in flames.

"The Devil," Agatha answered the youngest Winslow brother. "But do not be fooled, my lord. The card does not mean the actual Devil himself, but the archetype. You will be seeking a man of great power who has an obsession with the Ace of Wands. He is destructive, cold, and familiar with bringing pain to those around him. In the end, when it is The Lovers' time, he will lose his power and, ultimately, fall."

Seren nodded slowly, contemplating the fortunes. If the cards were to be believed, the prophecy would happen...