Nine Swords

As he entered the mansion, Richard Sonnac felt his breath forcibly sucked from his body. Outside, the mansion could be called a true work of art. It could even be called an architectural masterpiece. Breathing in the mansion's artistry was magical. It nearly swept you away into a fairy tale world. Inside the mansion was a different story. Sonnac felt that he was in a place where time had no power or authority. Every room looked as if it were literally plucked from the past then stitched together carefully with the other rooms of the mansion.

The foyer Sonnac stood in was large and seemingly endless upon first glance. The architecture along with its decorations and carvings made him think of ancient palaces where honored knights walked through as they went to see their king. It was incredible, all of it, and it made him feel humble if not exactly mortal. And as he breathed in the atmosphere and magic of the foyer he did not notice that The Dead Woman was watching him. She had a look that was playful and fun as well as comically subtle and mischievous. Every time Sonnac paid a visit he would always be taken by everything he saw and no matter how hard he tried he just couldn't escape that awe. The Dead Woman found that utterly amusing.

"You like what you see dahlink?" The Dead Woman asked casually attempting to look as if she wasn't amused by Sonnac's child like awe but failing miserably at it.

Her words was the cold water he needed to come out of his trance. Every single time he came to this place he became a little boy who was in mesmerized and taken by everything he saw. Every single time he came to this place he told himself that he would not allow himself to fall prey to the mansion's magnificent charm. Every single time he came to this place he would fail on keeping his promise which would make The Dead Woman chuckle at him. He blushed; embarrassed that he had failed again in his task of keeping himself professional and turned his head away to hide his childlike shame saying, "I am always quite fascinated by your collections."

Lily, The Dead Woman, took a moment to admire the pieces in her foyer and smiled and as she did so she walked away from it leading Sonnac into the next room which was the living room area. As she did this she said rather dismissively, "Rather simple pieces to be perfectly honest. My truly important pieces are down in the basement."

This was something Sonnac had not heard before. He had always believed that Lily, whether she was being true to herself or acting like the dumb blonde socialite, would always leave her priceless antiques out in the open for everyone to gawk at. To know that she had really special items that were kept away from the public, so to speak, piqued his curiosity. He held onto that feeling as it gave him clarity and focus enough to resist the charms of the house itself. He said simply, "Oh? I would love to see them some time."

Once in the living room, Lily smiled and said to him, "That won't be possible."

Feeling very disappointed but keeping his calm up, Sonnac asked, "Why is that?"

"My brides always attack the living."

An immediate sense of humor and horror washed over Sonnac. The stereotype of any vampire was that they wore excellent finery, had expensive tastes, and of course had their immortal beloveds beside them. It was campy. It was ridiculous. It was in no way at all terrifying. Could anybody, or creature for that matter, act that silly? But now Sonnac found himself just a little bit nervous and a tiny bit scared. Why? It was because he understood that fiction and reality were two vastly different things. Vampires were monsters in the truest sense of the word. What made them that way? Well it wasn't the fangs. It wasn't the cold dead flesh either. And it certainly wasn't the pointed ears. They were monsters because they were the darkest of reflections of their former lives. More to the point, they would willingly open their arms and embrace that new idea of evil happily and cheerfully. And with their new found freedom from humanity they would do the most unspeakable things with joy. In those moments of horror nothing would ever be sacred. That was why Sonnac was unnerved by Lily's admission of having brides in the basement. It was taking the most absurd most ridiculous thing imaginable the Bela Lugosi/Christopher Lee Dracula and really making it evil.

But why mention it at all? Sonnac pondered this as he entered the living room. It gave him something to hold onto lest the charm of the mansion overtook him again. Why show a tell? Why give up something like that? Was it to brag? Sonnac believed that Lily wasn't the kind of person who wanted to brag at all. He reminded himself that Lily always acted the part of the ditzy socialite. She did that to make people drop their guard, to come closer, and to allow a false sense of security to overtake them. A vampire who did that was cunning to say the least. So from that alone, Sonnac realized that she didn't make the ultimate mistake in bragging. So why mention it? Was it a mistake? Again, Sonnac felt that Lily wasn't the kind of creature to make a mistake in explaining a security feature of her home. So why mention it? The answer then came suddenly; she was taunting him. It wasn't about the brides at all, no, it was the fact that she had mysterious relics that were probably worthy of being placed in a Templar vault. But those relics were out of his reach because of vampire brides who were more or less guard dogs than partners in life. Those relics were probably also secure to by other spells and traps and devices that she would never ever mention. In short, she was saying in her own way that I have them and you don't and was sticking her tongue out at the same time.

Sonnac felt suddenly ill after that and it wasn't from the fact that he wasn't going to ever see what mysteries laid in the basement. No, he was sickened by the fact that he allowed her to get to him. Every day Sonnac would peruse the world wide web and see what conspiracy theories were more real than fancy. Should there ever be such a case he would then send a team to investigate the matter and then make a determination on what to be done. Rarely would such an action be done. However, on those days of perusing Sonnac would pick up little Internet idiosyncrasies. One of those characteristics that amused him dearly was trolling; the act of pissing someone off just for a bit of a giggle. There were those who were poor at the act itself often falling back to typing in caps and laughing at points someone would make. Individuals like that were easy to shrug off and even easier to forget. Then there were those who had made it into an art form. They could say something that sounded sincere, polite, and even intelligent and legitimate and know from the bottom of their heart that they were causing a firestorm of hate and rage. In those moments no one would ever grasp that they were played and made fool of. Some of course would suspect but they would never be able to prove it. And all the while the troll would sit back, eat popcorn, and enjoy the work they had made. No, it wasn't the fact that he would never see the treasures The Dead Woman locked away that made him ill. What made him upset was the fact that she trolled him and he could never ever prove it.

As he settled down in a large chair Sonnac looked over to Lily who was at a table that presented the tea and crumpets. Lily always wore expensive clothes but today she looked as if she dressed casually. She wore a button up silk blouse that was not tucked in. She had on a pair of leather trousers as well. Her snow white hair was up in a pony tail and she walked around barefooted. As he took her image in he thought to himself about how she trolled him. Underneath the lulz was a deeper message one that he picked up on. She knew that he would be able to figure it out and she had planned on that because she wanted him to remember that even though she was bound to The Templars she was still a danger. If I can make you feel this way through simple conversation imagine what else I can do. The point was obviously well taken.

Pushing himself away from the humiliating moment Sonnac changed the topic of conversation by asking, "Keeping in with the vampire mystique?"

Lily did not turn to face him but Sonnac could sense that she was both amused and smiling from the question itself. She poured his cup of tea saying, "There are some things that we the undead have done that you the living have made into an invention. Milk? Sugar?"

Sonnac responded aptly, "Both please." He then followed it up by asking, "What sort of things?"

Having added the milk and sugar to his tea Lily turned and brought the tea to him. When she handed it over she went back to pour herself a cup of tea. She never answered his question which was surprising to Sonnac. Normally she was very talkative on such things. He wondered if maybe she was messing with him again but then realized that she wasn't. In a sense, he understood why.

She understands that vampirism was nothing really to celebrate. Sonnac always knew that Lily was putting on a show. That was the reason why he never trusted her. A person who carried on an act always had something to hide. It didn't matter whether their secrets were innocent or out and out severe. If they were willing to go through the trouble of covering it up then what else would they be able to lie about? Still, there were moments where Sonnac could see through the facade and even get an idea of what Lily really was feeling.

Sonnac thought of a time when a young Templar who had gone through his initiation, still wet behind the ears, bragged that he had destroyed a few vampires. Another Templar, who was about to go through his initiation, listened on with child like fascination. He had said to his would be role model that he couldn't understand why vampires denied the idea of doing wonderful things. Why did they have to go about killing and destroying all that there was? At that moment, Lily, who was in the same room with the two young soldiers, closed the book she was reading and listened with a heavy heart. Sonnac watched her closely. He could see the socialite flare draining from her face as she asked herself the same question. Indeed, why couldn't every blood sucker do wondrous things? Maybe that was Lily's curse after all. Maybe she could turn someone but she would have to one day experience their natural fall from grace.

Feeling as if he made a faux pas, Sonnac said with apology, "If I offended..."

Lily interrupted him with a cheerful smile as she took herself and her cup of tea over to the couch and sat comfortably, "No my dear Richard you hadn't offended me at all." She took a sip of her tea saying with a gentle smile, "I was trying to pick out only the best elements to share with you. Nothing that would make my kind look bad."

Without missing a beat, Sonnac said, "You mean like vampires making mistakes?"

A cold chilling quiet went across the room. Sonnac knew that he was playing a dangerous game. Immortals were known for their intense arrogance. Their self centered arrogance wasn't unfounded either. After all, they were immortal creatures who had tons of experience more than the average mortal. When a mortal insulted an immortal it felt almost embarrassing. One immortal had said it best, "Being insulted by a mortal is like watching a child throw a temper tantrum in front of you at a public place with everyone staring." Immortals generally reacted in the same fashion by giving a small demonstration of their power and skill. Sonnac knew that Lily could easily break him in two for his commentary. That risk was something he was willing to take. It was his way of sending a message back to Lily saying that he won't be manipulated. Lily took a calm cool look at Sonnac as she sipped her tea and then said with a friendly relaxed smile, "So true, we do often make mistakes."

Sonnac found himself a tiny bit touched by that comment. It was Lily's own way of apologizing for her earlier trolling. Lily found that she had finished her tea and rose up saying, "Would you like some more tea Richard?"

For a moment, Sonnac thought about indulging in a second cup of tea but decided against it. He was after all on duty. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone once again. As he tapped in his personal identification into the templar database he said, "Actually I should get to the reason why I am here. How much do you know about Caine; the first child who sinned against his brother."

Silence once again flooded the room and this time Sonnac felt extremely nervous. It was an instinctive quality buried deep inside of him that was now erupting. It screamed out get up get ready to run because there is danger. That danger turned to face him.

Gone were the human qualities that made her breathtakingly beautiful. In its place was a monster that came from the darkest parts of a fearful imagination. And all it said was, "Tell me everything."