Part 21

"As of now, we have made no progress on finding the whereabouts of Wolfgang or his hostage," Malcolm Gould explains solemnly.
Saint Germain stands before him in the grand hall of the Order's headquarters, awaiting his next assignment.

"Seeing as how we have peace to upkeep, regardless of your personal matters, I'm afraid I must give you some work to do," Malcolm says, a little smirk forming in the winkles of his aged eyes.

He continues.
"For this mission, Gabriella has eagerly volunteered to be your partner. I trust you two will take care of each other, as you always have in the past."
Saint Germain glances to the side, taking notice of the female vampire's presence behind him. He says nothing.

"There is a location that has recently become popular for black market blood in Del Sol Valley," Malcolm explains. "I trust you still understand why this is a bad thing, despite your many years of being cooped up in your lofty mansion." He passes Saint Germain a map.
"Please go to this location and secure a meeting with their dealer, by whatever means necessary. We can find their vein and take appropriate measures to secure it once we apprehend him."

"Thy will be done," Saint Germain says, taking the map and turning towards the main doors.

"It's a fairly far distance, so I recommend flying... oh, and--do try to enjoy each other's company while you're out there, won't you?" Malcolm teases.
Saint Germain says nothing, and heads for the door.

[Del Sol Valley -- location of the "Blood Bank"]

Saint Germain and Gabriella make their way to a set of metal stairs leading down to a grungy basement.

Gabriella steps closer to Saint Germain.
"Saint... it's so nice to be on assignment with you again," she says cheerfully, "You know, I know you probably think I'm angry you left us before but--"

"Now is not the appropriate time to discuss this, Gabriella." Saint Germain interjects coldly, and without giving her a moment to respond, he makes his way down the stairs.

Saint Germain opens the heavy door and walks into the bar. The stench of blood is overwhelming and floods his senses as soon as he enters the room.

There is no music, only silence and the occasional groan from the drug addled patrons.

"Oh, my..."

Saint Germain and Gabriella make their way towards the bar, their steps echoing loudly against the brick walls.

"Never seen you here before..." the bartender says, looking both vampires up and down. "I know all my regulars."

Saint Germain looks at the bartender slyly, "We have heard of this establishment's prestige and desired to come see for ourselves if it lives up to its reputation."

The bartender gives them both the once-over again, and shrugs his shoulders.
"Heh, well, not like we been here long, I guess... boss is always happy to get some new customers."
He smiles a toothy grin at them both.
"We also, uh... supply other services, if you're interested in some fun tonight. Since you're new, I could get'cha a discount."
He glances to the right of Saint Germain where two female vampires are sitting.

The one in white lace makes a kissing noise in Saint Germain's general direction.

"No, I believe all we need for tonight is the blood," Saint Germain replies calmly, "However, we would like to arrange something long term."

He glances towards a couple of sacks in the corner.

The bartender notices Saint Germain's gaze and confidently remarks, "Oh, that? That's what makes us the most popular 'blood bank' in Del Sol Valley... Boss's got lots of good connections."
He chuckles to himself.
"Since you wanna strike a deal, how about I give you a quick sample of what we offer... on the house."
"...How very kind of you." Saint Germain replies.

Saint Germain watches the bartender making his concoction.
The female vampire dressed in white lace comes out of the cage and saunters towards him, smiling.
"Hey... you're new." she says, her voice is high pitched and girlish.
"New guys get one free taste... haven't had a customer who didn't come back yet."
She looks Saint Germain up and down, and her eyes sparkle and glint as if they are liquid silver.

"Hey, did'ja hear me?" the vampiress says rudely.
Saint Germain remains fixated on the drink being prepared in front of him and doesn't look at her.
"My apologies, miss... I believe I already stated why I am here." he says, "If you'll excuse me."
She looks dejected and walks back towards her cage.

The bartender sets the drink down on the counter.
"Alright, here you go... who's drinkin'?"

"I am." Saint Germain replies without hesitating.

Gabriella turns to Saint Germain.
"Saint... no, let me do this," she whispers to him, "You'll get--"

"That's enough." Saint Germain cuts Gabriella off coldly. He looks her in the eyes with a serious gaze, silently warning her not to blow their cover.
Gabriella stares into his face for a moment, regaining her composure, and relents.
"Sorry..."

Saint Germain picks up the glass. The liquid inside swirls a sickeningly dark purple and red color.
He puts the glass to his lips and takes a large gulp.

The bartender chuckles to himself again.
"So, what'dya think? Pretty good shit, huh?"

Saint Germain's grip on the glass tightens slightly, but only enough for Gabriella to notice.
"It is indeed." he says to the bartender. "I believe this will be to our liking."

"Excellent," the vampire replies happily, "All our blood is made to order, so to speak, so give us a couple of days and we'll have it ready for you, Mr..."
"White," Saint Germain responds.
"Sure... Mr. White, then. This is our drop off location," the bartender slips a small piece of paper to Saint Germain who slips it into his breast pocket.
"Meet our guy there in two days, 23:00 hours exactly."
"23:00 hours." Saint Germain confirms.
"Yeah... pleasure doing business with ya." the bartender grins his toothy smile once more at them.
Saint Germain and Gabriella make their exit.

They head back into the alleyway.
Saint Germain clutches his forehead with his hand, clearly in some sort of pain.
"I wish you would have just let me drink that shit," Gabriella says quietly. "I know what blood does to you Saint--and it was laced..." Her face falls and she looks at the dirty bricks in front of her.
"I will die before I let a lady put herself in that kind of danger, Gabriella." he says, his voice strained. "If you know anything about me, you surely know this to be true."
"Even so... Saint, I--"
"Enough, Gabriella... I cannot remain here. We will talk again before the deal is made."

Without waiting for a reply, Saint Germain transforms and flies off, leaving Gabriella there alone.

"Saint..."

The doors creak as Saint Germain walks, unbalanced, into the parlor where Noah sits reading.

Noah stands and greets Saint Germain as he heads for the stairs.
"Oh, master, you're back... were you with the Order today too?"
Saint Germain stops in his tracks, avoiding eye contact with the young man, and lifts his hand weakly as if to try to wave him off.
"Yes... no. I am sorry, I am feeling a bit under the weather, so please leave me be."

Noah doesn't reply, but he worries as he watches Saint Germain retreat upstairs.

Pain spreads throughout Saint Germain's body, pulsing in time with his heart beat.
"Hhnnngh...!" The cries that he tries to stifle escape from his lips and he crumbles to the marble floor, clutching his ears to muffle sounds only he can hear.
"No... please... I am sorry... I am so sorry...."

"Saint Germain...?"

Aylin cautiously opens the door to Saint Germain's chamber, finding the pale man crumpled on the cold floor, his head hanging in his hands. Silver tears drip between his gloved fingers. He sways back and forth as he rocks himself gently, shuddering with each deep sob.

"S-Saint Germain...?" Aylin's small voice interrupts his cries, breaking the sad silence like a crack of thunder.

Saint Germain begins to stand, bewildered by the female voice behind him. His breathing is labored and his face is streaked with tears.
He swings around to face the young woman.

"Saint Germain... what's wrong?" Aylin asks in a hushed voice.

Dizziness and shock overcome the pale man as he stares into the eyes of the young woman standing before him.

"Saint Germain?"

He looks at her in bewilderment.
"This cannot be..." he mutters to himself, his gaze askance.

"What... what can't be, Saint Germain?" the young woman says. "It's me... don't you recognize me?"

In one swift motion, he lurches forward.
Saint Germain's arms are suddenly wrapped tightly around Aylin.

"It is you... it really is you... Moira."

"My love... my life, you are finally returned to me... after all this time." He clutches Aylin's shoulders tightly, breathing into her ear as he speaks.

"S-Saint... Germain..." Aylin's voice is small and weak and she feels crushed within his embrace.

"Saint Germain... stop, it's me. It's me... Aylin. Not... Moira." she says sadly. Clearly Saint Germain is seeing something she cannot.

Saint Germain releases Aylin from his embrace and stares intently into her eyes. "It's ME, Saint! Aylin, don't you know me? You remember me, don't you?"

Saint Germain stares at the young woman.
The face of his long dead wife fades before his eyes.
His senses return, accompanied by a crushing loneliness.

"Ayiln... my apologies, my dear."

"Have a seat, kiddo." Luka says, sensing Noah's presence.

Noah sits.
The fountain before them burbles quietly and cricket chirps fill the summer night air.
His mood is clear without the need for words. Luka glances at him.

"Lemme guess," Luka says, sighing and looking back down towards the ground, "Women troubles?"
Noah rests his hand on his chin silently. He nods.

"Look dude," Luka says, taking a drag off his cigarette and flicking the ashes to the ground, "If you have something to say to someone, you just gotta say it. You never know when the chance'll be taken away from you. Nothing in this world is permanent... you might as well give it a shot when you know you have one."
Noah listens intently, saying nothing.

Saint Germain takes Aylin into a small room in the mansion. An ancient picture hangs in a lavish frame above the mantel.

"I know I mentioned her name to you," Saint Germain says sadly, "This... was Moira. My wife... long ago."
Aylin looks at the picture sadly. She remains quiet, letting the pale man speak.
"She was taken from me tragically. Murdered... in this house."
He continues speaking, his voice deep and serious, a type of voice Aylin has never heard from him before.
"There was so much blood... I vowed to never drink from a living being again. The sight of it... haunts me... the smell and taste of it are enough to push me over the edge completely. Tonight... you have had the unfortunate experience of seeing what the results can be."

Aylin doesn't speak, she only looks down at the crackling flame in the hearth.
"I know it is not my place to speak on such things to you, but I feel I must..." he says to her, "because I feel I did not have enough chances to do so myself, back then... If you care for another, make it known to them. Make it known without a shadow of a doubt... Do everything you can to make sure they know how you feel."