On May 23, 1940, while all eyes were on Germany, a great evil was quietly laid to rest in hallowed ground in France. The lives lost and the sacrifices made to put an end to one of the last great vampire bloodlines were forgotten to the danger from the east. All that remained of that great struggle was a tomb near an old, crumbling castle and the young vampire hunter set as groundskeeper, to keep an eye on the undead.

Two Months Ago

Exactly an hour before sunset, Robert N'Daiye set down his rake and reached for his cane. Leaning heavily on the battered wood, he left his garden and started down the rocky path past the castle ruins. The evenings were beginning to get chilly, and he pulled his scarf closer around him as he walked. His breath could be seen as frequent, short puffs that grew more labored as he walked. He eyed the overgrown path. It got less and less attention from him as the years went by. Weeds grew freely in the gravel. Bushes and trees slowly pushed their way into the path. Nature was trying to win back this small section of the French countryside, and Robert no longer had the energy to fight it back.

As gravel gave way to mud, he paused, and then pulled out his flashlight and peered closely at the ground. Footprints winded their way up the trail towards the ruins, footprints not accompanied by his cane. With a shaking hand, he patted his side and the old revolver shoved into his coat pocket, then he started up the path. He called out as he went, “Is anyone there? You shouldn’t be here. The ruins are dangerous.” When lights flashed ahead of him, he hurried up the path, out of breath by the time he reached the castle gate.

The lock on the gate had been cut and tossed away, and the rusted iron stood open. The stone entrance was marked with fresh paint. Kids. Robert leaned on the gate and tried to catch his breath as he surveyed the courtyard beyond. “You…you really need to leave. You’ll get hurt in there. Can you hear me?” He held onto the wall for support as he started through the gate.

He didn’t get far. As he passed a pitch-black doorway, he heard movement within, and he turned. A leg moved out of sight through another doorway ahead of him, and Robert immediately followed. “Stop! Stop right now!” He almost fell as he hurried to catch up to the fleeing intruder.

They descended, the intruder always just disappearing out of Robert’s sight. The stone stairs grew wet and the air around them hung dank and stale. Robert came to a halt and held his chest, coughing as he surveyed his surroundings. “You need to leave this…” A scream cut him off. Robert cursed and rushed into the darkness.

In the doorway to a darkened room, he stopped and shined his flashlight around. There, in the center, a sight made his heart falter. A coffin stood open. A trail of blood led away from the coffin, and Robert followed it with his flashlight, until the light fell upon a lump of rags and wide, glassy eyes slumped against the wall. Robert reached up to cross himself, but before he even finished the movement, a strong hand pulled him around.

“What are you doing in my house?” The vampire’s flesh was stretched tight across his bones. He was discolored and desiccated, like a mummy. His clothes hung in rotten tatters around him, with a clear hole over his heart. The flesh there had not yet sealed, and inside, Robert could see wriggling maggots and the wet, ruined mass of his heart. The vampire grabbed Robert by his shirt collar and hoisted him up to eye level. His long, talon-like nails dug into Robert’s throat as the vampire pushed him into a wall. He leaned over him, red eyes glaring from behind long, unkempt blond hair. His mouth was stained with blood. He said, softly, “I asked you. What are you doing in my house?”

Robert’s heart beat erratically. He hung there, wheezing from exertion and fear, staring at the red blood that drenched the vampire’s body. When he found the strength to look up, his gaze caught on the vampire’s small fangs and could go no further. He closed his eyes and murmured a prayer. “The cross of Christ be with me. The cross of Christ overcomes all water and every fire.” He fumbled at his shirt, and the vampire barked out a laugh and let him go.

“I simply asked why you’re here. But you don’t need to answer now. As if the beating of your heart wasn’t enough, I recognize your voice. The young hunter.” One gnarled hand splayed on the wall behind Robert as the vampire leaned over him, baring his fangs. “We have history, you and I.”

Robert shook his head, almost violently. “I…I’m just the groundskeeper! There was a boy! I didn’t want him to get hurt in the ruins, that’s it, I swear!”

The vampire spat blood in Robert’s face, and his free hand curled around Robert’s neck. “Don’t lie to me. I do know you. We never met in battle, but the Order conspired to help you and your people put me down, didn’t they?” He grinned and stroked Robert’s neck. “I’ve heard you up there, year after year. Decades, you’ve been here. You’ve never wavered, have you?” His nail dug harder, slicing open the thin skin. “There’s enough blood left in the boy to take the worst of the edge off of my hunger. Should I let you live, I wonder?”

Robert’s free hand closed around the revolver in his pocket. He gave a cry as he pulled it out and shot. He fell with a sickening crunch of bone as the vampire shoved him away and huddled against the wall, clutching at his ruined stomach.

The vampire laughed softly. His dark, viscous blood already stopped flowing, and the bullet wound was beginning to heal. “Death it is, then.” He whirled in the blink of an eye, crushing the hand holding the gun before tearing out Robert’s throat with his teeth. “Pity.” He bent his head to the blood and began to feed.

Robert’s tongue darted out. He licked away the blood on his face. And then he gave a last, shuddering breath.

The D’Ambrosio twins rule jointly over their family’s territory and their seat on the council. They are two of only three surviving original vampires, and they claim Venice and the surrounding area as their hunting grounds.

Danilo D’Ambrosio is the hotter tempered of the two. He believes very strongly in vampire supremacy and their policy of keeping humans in the dark. He’s deeply involved in human politics and has been subtly influencing political races for centuries. What his money can’t buy, his magic can tip in his favor. Oddly enough, the volcanic temper drops away at home, and Danilo is a dedicated family man, helping his wife, Kelly, with Antonio and the twins.

Gregorio D’Ambrosio is the quieter of the two brothers. Cold and logical, he’s been accused of being as unfeeling as some of the machines he favors. Gregorio is a former priest who turned to the dark arts and now heads a team of vampires who use a blend of sorcery and technology to try to isolate and remove the weaknesses in the vampire condition. Most of the household, their staff, and the assorted hangers-on and lab assistants assume Gregorio is married to his work, but he and Dylan Woods have been sneaking out for long walks with Priest…

Kelly D’Ambrosio is Danilo’s wife. She’s been a vampire for five years now. In addition to her thriving sculpture business, she also has three children under the age of six. Given the difficulty that vampire women have with pregnancy, balancing her work, her health, and her family life is an immense source of pride for her.

Antonio, Cecilia, and Salvatore D’Ambrosio are Kelly and Danilo’s young children. Antonio is the oldest and so far wants nothing more than to learn to be a knight. His father indulges him with sword practice. Cecilia and Salvatore are twin babies at the moment. Salvatore spends a lot of his time in and out of his uncle’s lab, being treated for all manner of childhood illnesses.

Dylan Woods, a human musician. He doesn’t know about vampires and assumes Gregorio is an entirely ordinary overworked research doctor living with his politician brother and his family. Dylan is an American, a cousin of Kelly’s, and is using music studies in Venice as an excuse to keep an eye on Danilo for Kelly’s family. Dylan and Danilo do not get along, but Gregorio has so far managed to smooth over all of their fights.

Priest is the family’s greyhound. The dog is especially fond of Gregorio, and they’re a common sight along the canals at night.

“Look, this isn’t a battle of good and evil, here. Well, not the Good and Evil.” He was shaky, pacing, a mouse with a cigarette and a lighter. “These are people. Just like you and me. Well, not really like you and me. They’re backwards, see? Born greedy, self absorbed. Nothing human at all. Then life happens an’ they got a choice. Embrace the evil or, ah…”

"Or what? They choose to be monsters?”

“Look, Adrien, it’s not that I don’t agree with you. I do, but…”

“But you’re too cowardly to take a stand? Come on, Gregorio, you know this is our best chance to remain undetected.”

“Or our best chance to be found out for certain, this time. We barely managed to escape the last outbreak. If it had taken place ten years later, the humans would have found the toxin in the victims’ blood, and it would all be over. And now I’m getting word that at least a few of the deaths in Africa aren’t from the plague, but from us…” He shook his head.

Adrien gave a grim laugh. “I wouldn’t be surprised. An opportunity to expand territory makes the young bloods greedy.”

Gregorio gave a sigh. “I can’t condone keeping humans closer to us than they already are. You know what’s happened every time we’ve tried keeping them for food. The toxin is carried in our saliva, too. A low dose over a long period provokes a response. They grow ravenous, heedless of all but hunger. Afraid of the sun and fire, but precious little else. We were lucky in earlier times, we could mask our purges as the Plague, polio…even damned dysentery. Plant a Plague victim in view on the pyre, and they were all too happy to let all the bodies burn.” Gregorio scowled at Adrien. “Now they have medicine. They ask questions. They’re very, very close to answers that would hurt us.”

“Which is why I want a feeding population. With careful control, it can be done.” Adrien spread his arms wide. “Look, you know where my territory is. The United fucking States. I can’t take a piss without worrying it’s on camera. It’s getting uncomfortable having to dispose of a body or more per week. Soon my son is going to need a supply as well…I’m going to draw unwanted attention regardless.”

“You would rather draw hunters than police?” Gregorio raised an eyebrow.

“I can take the hunters. Police would run me out of my territory and back to Moulins for good. I had a taste of that already. I like this age, I’m not giving it up.” Adrien’s voice was harsh. “Can Danilo be convinced?”

“Maybe, but it isn’t the house of D’Ambrosio you should worry about.”

“And who should I worry about, Gregorio?”

“Marcello Rovigatti leads the Sanguinarium now, and you and his mother, Velia, have never been on good terms.”

Adrien gave a snort. “That’s not true, once we were on very…intimate terms. That might be why she wanted my heart that one time.”