▪︎ Chapter 131 ▪︎ “That’s not your concern.”

Lavinia had barely finished typing her reply when she noticed a hand reaching toward her.

Without looking away from her phone, she caught the approaching fingers between her own. Then she raised an eyebrow and turned toward the culprit.

Gwendolyn was staring at her.

The white-haired vampire had somehow managed to arrange her beautiful features into an expression of such pitiful longing that Lavinia almost laughed.

Almost.

“Gwendolyn?”

Gwendolyn sniffled.

Lavinia looked down at their joined hands, then back at her face. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“That doesn't look like nothing.”

Gwendolyn lowered her head slightly, allowing several strands of white hair to fall across her cheeks.

Rosaline glanced over from her chair and smiled knowingly. “I think Valerie was a little too quick. Poor Gwendolyn feels left out.”

Valerie immediately raised her head from where she'd been resting beside Lavinia.

“Of course I was quick!” she declared proudly. “I was first!”

Lavinia blinked.

Valerie grinned at her. “Besides, I practically had to chase you. You're a little dense, you know.”

Lavinia rolled her eyes.

“I am not dense.”

“You are!”

“No, I just didn't want to do anything that might ruin our relationships at the time.”

Valerie giggled. “That's what makes you dense.”

Lavinia gave her an incredulous look. “How is being considerate dense?”

“Because you were being considerate about something nobody was actually worried about.”

“That is not how it works!”

Rosaline laughed softly, apparently finding the exchange considerably more entertaining than anything on her phone.

Gwendolyn sniffled again.

Lavinia turned toward her, only to discover that the white-haired vampire had somehow made herself look even more pitiful.

“Oh, goodness.”

Valerie leaned forward and inspected Gwendolyn's face.

“Hmm. I don't see any tears.”

Gwendolyn's lips trembled.

“Not even one,” Valerie continued cheerfully. “Are you sure you're crying?”

“Valerie!”

“What?”

“Stop teasing her!”

“But she's pretending!”

Lavinia sighed, then tightened her fingers around Gwendolyn's hand and gently pulled her closer.

“Come here.”

Gwendolyn needed no further encouragement.

She practically melted into Lavinia's embrace, wrapping both arms around her waist and burying her face against the golden-haired vampire's midriff.

Lavinia giggled as the sudden movement pushed her farther back against the pillows.

“There. Better?”

Gwendolyn nodded against her dress.

Cordelia watched them from the couch with a gentle smile.

“It's perfectly normal, you know,” she remarked. “Not wanting to feel forgotten or left out by someone you like.”

Lavinia looked toward her.

Cordelia rested her hands in her lap. “Especially when that person is someone you're particularly close to.”

“That makes sense,” Lavinia admitted, lowering one hand to stroke Gwendolyn's long white hair. “Although nobody's being forgotten.”

Gwendolyn tightened her embrace.

Lavinia smiled.

What she didn't see was Gwendolyn turning her face just enough to look directly at Valerie.

The white-haired vampire stuck out her tongue.

Valerie stared at her.

Then she burst into laughter.

“Oh, you're asking for it!”

Gwendolyn immediately hid her face again.

Lavinia glanced between them.

“What?”

Valerie pointed accusingly. “She stuck her tongue out at me!”

Lavinia looked down.

“Gwendolyn?”

The white-haired vampire remained perfectly still.

Valerie laughed harder. “If I weren't a vampire, you'd really be asking for a fight!”

Lavinia sighed and gave Gwendolyn's bottom a light smack.

“Don't provoke Valerie.”

Gwendolyn lifted her head, looking up at Lavinia with another pitiful expression.

Lavinia stared at her.

“Oh, don't give me that look.”

Gwendolyn's pointed ears drooped slightly.

Valerie snickered beside them.

“She's getting away with everything.”

“She's not getting away with anything!”

“Then punish her.”

Lavinia turned toward Valerie.

“Valerie.”

“What?”

“You're enjoying this far too much.”

“Of course I am!”

Evangeline snorted from the couch.

“I feel like I'm being force-fed a romantic comedy.”

Rosaline smiled at her. “You could join in if you wanted.”

Evangeline looked over.

“Join what?”

“The drama.”

Evangeline considered that for a moment before grinning.

“Hmm. Tempting.”

Lavinia pointed toward her without releasing Gwendolyn.

“Don't you dare.”

“See?” Evangeline said brightly. “She's already acting like a brat.”

“I AM NOT!”

The room erupted into laughter.

Lavinia groaned and dropped her head back against the pillows, wondering whether this was simply what her life would be like from now on.

She supposed there were worse possibilities.

Quite a few, actually.

Gwendolyn settled more comfortably against her, apparently satisfied with the attention she'd received, while Valerie resumed leaning against Lavinia's shoulder.

Lavinia absently stroked Gwendolyn's back with one hand and returned to her phone with the other.

She'd barely reopened the forum when her pointed ears twitched.

Footsteps.

The others noticed almost simultaneously, their ears turning toward the entrance.

A soft electronic chime sounded.

Then the door opened.

Violetta stepped into the suite.

Her long purple hair shifted gently as she closed the door behind her, and her crimson eyes swept across the room.

For a moment, she simply regarded the gathering of vampires.

Then she smiled.

“Well. You're all here.”

“Violetta!” Evangeline exclaimed.

The Brigadier General crossed the room and took a seat on the couch beside Evangeline and Cordelia.

Lavinia leaned forward slightly, careful not to disturb Gwendolyn.

“Did you only just finish your meeting?”

Violetta nodded.

“It lasted a little longer than I expected.”

“Everything okay?”

“More or less.” Violetta settled back against the cushions. “I don't have any particular concerns, although a few old men are being stubborn, as usual.”

Evangeline frowned.

“Are they trying to punish you?”

Violetta regarded her for a moment.

“I wouldn't go quite that far. The President remains opposed to removing non-human personnel from their positions simply because of their species.”

She paused.

“However, some of my recent decisions are being scrutinized.”

Lavinia's expression changed.

“Which decisions?”

Violetta exhaled softly and ran one hand through her purple hair.

“Enlisting vampires to help explore the Diverged Lands. Sharing classified military information. Coordinating vampire participation during the Tide.”

She smiled faintly.

“Apparently, I'm giving certain people the impression that I doubt the capabilities of the soldiers serving under me.”

Evangeline stared at her.

“What?”

“And that,” Violetta continued, “could lead civilians to question whether the military can adequately protect them without supernatural assistance.”

Evangeline's expression darkened.

“That's ridiculous!”

Violetta looked toward her.

“How is not wanting to endanger human lives a bad thing?” Evangeline demanded. “Or not wanting to waste time? If we can do something faster and more safely, why shouldn't we?”

Celestine nodded from her seat beside Evelyn.

“During the Tide, the vampires helped prevent casualties. If we hadn't been there, far more soldiers would have died.”

She glanced toward the television, which continued showing footage of the Diverged Lands.

“And that's without considering all the soldiers we rescued. Or the people who were healed afterward.”

“Exactly!” Evangeline exclaimed.

Violetta reached over and gently patted Evangeline's head.

The red-haired vampire blinked.

“I'm aware.”

Violetta's smile became warmer.

“The criticism is coming from people higher up the chain of command. The soldiers who actually fought beside us have generally been much more appreciative.”

Evangeline huffed.

“They should be.”

“They are,” Violetta assured her.

Gwendolyn lifted her head from Lavinia's stomach.

“Did the people criticizing you fight during the Tide?”

Violetta turned toward her.

“Some have combat experience.”

“That's not what I asked.”

Lavinia smiled faintly.

Gwendolyn frowned.

“If they weren't there, how can they criticize what you did? They don't know what it was like.”

Violetta laughed softly.

“That's not quite how military oversight works, Gwendolyn.”

“But still!”

“I understand what you're saying.”

Violetta folded her hands in her lap.

“The problem is that they're questioning my loyalty. And in a certain sense, they aren't entirely wrong.”

Lavinia's smile faded.

Violetta continued calmly.

“I'm not loyal to humanity as a species. Nor am I loyal to my position above everything else.”

Cordelia tilted her head.

“But you want everyone to coexist.”

“Very much.”

Violetta looked around the room.

“I believe there's a difference between serving humanity and serving the public good. At present, those goals overlap considerably, but they aren't necessarily identical.”

Lavinia frowned.

“Even so, you haven't done anything treasonous.”

Violetta looked toward her.

“Sharing information with us isn't a betrayal when you're asking us to help,” Lavinia continued. “And you haven't endangered anyone by doing it.”

She shifted slightly, allowing Gwendolyn to settle against her again.

“Using vampires to explore the Diverged Lands makes sense. We're fast, strong, and can survive things ordinary humans can't. Why wouldn't you use those advantages?”

Violetta smiled.

“That's more or less my argument.”

“Then they're being unreasonable.”

“Some of them are.”

Cordelia leaned forward.

“Are you certain you won't lose your position?”

Violetta nodded.

“I shouldn't. As I said, it's a few stubborn old men making things more difficult than necessary.”

Her tone was reassuring, although Lavinia noticed that she hadn't offered an absolute guarantee.

Then again, how could she?

Violetta couldn't control every decision made above her.

Lavinia lowered her gaze toward Gwendolyn, absently tracing small patterns across the white-haired vampire's back.

She thought about how much time Violetta had spent working since the First Divergence.

Vampires didn't require nearly as much sleep as humans, and they didn't experience physical exhaustion in the same way.

But even among vampires, Violetta seemed unusually busy.

Whenever Lavinia saw her, she was attending meetings, coordinating responses, discussing security, or trying to solve some new problem.

And there were always new problems.

The First Divergence had introduced vampires and werewolves. The Second had torn the world apart and expanded it beyond anything humanity had previously imagined.

Then came the Tide.

And now Witches and Elves had appeared, accompanied by enormous structures and entirely new forms of magic.

Through all of it, Violetta had continued working.

Not because she expected some extraordinary reward, but because she genuinely wanted the world to survive these changes.

Lavinia couldn't understand why anyone would choose this particular moment to attack her.

Even if Violetta no longer considered herself loyal to humanity specifically, her actions had overwhelmingly benefited humans.

She'd helped defend Oakridge. She'd cooperated with human authorities. She'd repeatedly placed herself in situations where her involvement reduced the danger to ordinary soldiers and civilians.

What more did they want?

Violetta's next words answered that question rather unpleasantly.

“They've also brought up Evangeline's release from containment.”

Evangeline went still.

Lavinia looked up sharply.

Violetta continued.

“Some are arguing that I overstepped my authority when I ordered her release. They believe that, had I not interfered, the researchers involved could have obtained a much clearer understanding of vampire physiology.”

Evangeline's lips pulled back from her fangs.

A low growl escaped her throat.

“They took me without my consent!”

Violetta nodded.

“I know.”

“I was trapped in a building because it was daytime! It's not like I could just walk out!”

Evangeline's voice rose.

“And if you hadn't gotten me out, I'm sure they'd have tried all kinds of things on me by now!”

The atmosphere in the room shifted.

Rosaline's smile disappeared, and Adelaide looked toward Violetta with a troubled expression.

Even Gwendolyn stopped moving.

Violetta remained calm.

“I agree.”

Evangeline blinked.

Violetta gave her a faint smile.

“I released you because I believed keeping you confined would eventually lead to something considerably worse.”

She rested one hand against the couch.

“The initial tests might have been harmless enough. Blood samples, physical examinations, perhaps measurements of strength and regeneration.”

Her expression grew thoughtful.

“But curiosity is a dangerous thing, especially when the subject of that curiosity can regenerate perfectly from almost any injury.”

Lavinia felt a faint chill that had nothing to do with temperature.

Violetta continued.

“Without strict oversight, the temptation to push boundaries would become enormous. A researcher might begin by taking a little blood. Then more. Then perhaps testing injuries that would be unacceptable on a human subject.”

Evangeline's fingers curled against her dress.

“And because the injuries heal,” Violetta said, “someone will eventually argue that no lasting harm is being done.”

Lavinia remembered the warehouse.

Rows upon rows of vampires restrained and harvested for their blood.

Their bodies regenerating endlessly.

Their captors treating that regeneration as justification for what they were doing.

She tightened her hand slightly against Gwendolyn's back.

Violetta looked toward Evangeline.

“There's another reason I intervened.”

Evangeline's ears twitched.

“What?”

“I didn't want humanity to understand vampires too thoroughly.”

The admission drew several curious looks.

Violetta smiled faintly.

“Knowledge is useful. But knowledge also creates confidence. And confidence can become dangerous when people begin believing they've discovered exactly how to control something.”

Lavinia considered that.

Violetta wasn't arguing that humans should remain ignorant forever.

She was acknowledging something rather simple.

The less uncertain humans felt about vampires, the more willing some might become to challenge them.

And given how easily vampires could be incapacitated during daylight, that confidence could have particularly unpleasant consequences.

Violetta continued.

“If researchers discovered every limitation we possess, every method of restraining us, and every way to exploit our regeneration, that information wouldn't necessarily remain confined to peaceful medical research.”

Ophelia snorted.

“Of course it wouldn't.”

Diana glanced toward her but said nothing.

Lavinia looked down at Gwendolyn.

The white-haired vampire had tightened her embrace, and Lavinia gently stroked her hair.

She thought of the Thing in the Darkness.

Of the countless worlds she'd apparently observed, and the futures she'd shown Lavinia.

How much of that conflict had truly been inevitable?

And how much had begun with suspicion?

Fear could make people do terrible things.

But so could certainty.

A human who feared vampires might avoid them. A human who believed vampires could be safely restrained might decide that capturing one was worth the risk.

And a vampire who discovered humans were developing ways to imprison her indefinitely might decide that those humans needed to be stopped before they succeeded.

Lavinia frowned.

She wasn't under the illusion that vampires had always been innocent victims in the countless worlds the Thing had witnessed.

She'd seen enough of that distant future to know otherwise.

Vampires could be possessive, selfish, and cruel. They could kill humans with terrifying ease, and immortality didn't guarantee wisdom or compassion.

But even if peace was possible, how many people genuinely wanted it?

How many would accept coexistence when domination seemed easier?

Violetta wasn't loyal to her station above everything else.

She wasn't loyal to humanity simply because she'd once been human.

But she was working harder than almost anyone Lavinia knew to ensure that humans, vampires, werewolves, witches, and elves could inhabit this enormous, increasingly unfamiliar world without slaughtering one another.

Surely that counted for something.

Lavinia looked toward her.

“Violetta.”

“Hm?”

“I'm glad you're here.”

Violetta blinked.

Then she smiled warmly.

“Thank you, Lavinia.”

Valerie leaned against Lavinia's shoulder and nodded.

“Me too.”

Several others murmured their agreement.

Violetta regarded them for a moment before laughing softly.

“Well, since you're all being so supportive, I suppose I should mention something.”

Lavinia raised an eyebrow.

“What?”

“I'm planning to inspect some of the newly emerged structures in the Diverged Lands tonight.”

The response was immediate.

“I'm coming!” Evangeline declared.

“Me too!” Gwendolyn added, lifting her head.

“I'd like to see them,” Cordelia said.

Rosaline smiled. “Obviously.”

Adelaide nodded, while Celestine and Evelyn exchanged a glance before expressing their interest as well.

Ophelia leaned back in her chair.

“Sounds better than sitting here all night.”

Diana looked toward her.

“Can I come?”

Ophelia glanced at her.

“Why wouldn't you?”

Lavinia giggled.

Valerie wrapped one arm around her waist.

“And we're going too.”

Lavinia blinked.

“We are?”

Valerie looked offended.

“Lavinia!”

“I'm joking!”

“Good.”

Violetta watched the room erupt into overlapping conversation, a genuine smile spreading across her face.

“I thought you might be interested.”

Lavinia laughed.

“Interested? You're talking about exploring enormous magical structures that appeared out of nowhere. Of course we're interested!”

“Then I'll make the necessary arrangements.”

Violetta settled more comfortably into the couch, allowing Evangeline to lean against her shoulder.

For the moment, the arguments from her meeting seemed rather distant.

───

Vice President Gideon Rorke smiled as he looked over the report spread across his desk.

He'd obtained it through channels that would have raised uncomfortable questions had anyone bothered to investigate them.

Fortunately, very few people in Arlington were inclined to question the Vice President's access to information.

He adjusted the papers.

Brigadier General Violetta.

A vampire.

Even the name irritated him.

“Ridiculous.”

He tapped one finger against the report.

These creatures couldn't even retain the names their parents had given them, yet the government expected him to accept that they remained the same people.

A Brigadier General was supposed to represent the United States military.

Discipline. Duty. Loyalty.

Not some supernatural species that had appeared without warning and immediately begun gathering influence.

Rorke leaned back in his chair.

If the decision were his, every non-human occupying a position of authority would be removed immediately.

Their abilities could be useful, certainly.

But usefulness wasn't loyalty.

Before any of them were permitted to serve humanity, they should be subjected to rigorous examination.

Physical testing. Psychological evaluation. Controlled experimentation.

Whatever was necessary to establish exactly what they were and whether they could be trusted.

If they truly supported mankind, why would they object?

Surely a few examinations were a small price to pay for the privilege of remaining in positions of influence.

And if they refused...

Well.

That would tell him everything he needed to know.

Rorke turned another page.

Vampires fed on blood.

Human blood, preferably.

They possessed extraordinary strength, unnatural speed, and the ability to recover from injuries that would kill any ordinary person.

Worse, they apparently didn't age.

Humans could never compete with that.

A vampire could accumulate wealth, influence, and knowledge over centuries while generations of humans lived and died around her.

What happened after a thousand years?

Ten thousand?

How could humanity possibly maintain control of its own civilization when surrounded by creatures who could outlast entire nations?

And now there were Elves.

Ageless Elves.

Witches who could manipulate reality through some poorly understood form of magic.

Werewolves who could tear through ordinary soldiers.

Every Divergence made the problem worse.

Yet the President continued talking about cooperation.

Understanding.

Coexistence.

Rorke's lips twisted.

Naivety dressed up as compassion.

He reached for his phone and dialed a number.

The call connected after several rings.

“Dr. Strauss speaking.”

The voice was soft and composed.

“Doctor,” Rorke said. “I have some good news.”

There was a brief pause.

“What sort of news, Mr. Vice President?”

“We've managed to secure a vampire.”

Silence.

Rorke smiled.

“It will be transported to the Institute by the end of the day.”

Helena Strauss didn't respond immediately.

When she finally spoke, her voice had barely changed.

“May I ask under what circumstances this vampire was obtained?”

“That's not your concern.”

“Was the individual cooperative?”

Rorke frowned.

“Doctor.”

“Because if the vampire was taken without consent,” Helena continued, “this could create an extremely serious problem.”

Rorke exhaled sharply.

“Your responsibility is to study the subject.”

“My responsibility is to conduct research without causing a diplomatic disaster.”

Rorke's expression hardened.

Helena continued in the same measured tone.

“If this becomes public, it would constitute a massive breach of trust between humanity and the supernatural species. Particularly given the cooperation we've received from vampires during the Tide.”

“I'm well aware of what happened during the Tide.”

“Then you understand why this is dangerous.”

Rorke leaned forward.

“Let me make something perfectly clear, Doctor. If you don't want to conduct the research, I'll find someone who will.”

The line remained quiet.

“You may be the best in your field,” he continued, “but I don't need the best. I need answers.”

Helena's voice remained controlled.

“Does the President know about this?”

Rorke's expression darkened immediately.

“The President?”

He almost laughed.

“That naive fool can't even understand something as simple as fighting for mankind's future!”

His voice rose.

“He's more concerned with appearing compassionate than recognizing the threat standing directly in front of us!”

Helena said nothing.

Rorke continued.

“Do you think these creatures will remain content to cooperate forever? Do you think they'll politely accept human authority when they realize there's nothing stopping them from taking it?”

A few seconds passed.

Then Helena spoke.

“I'll be waiting for the vampire.”

Rorke relaxed slightly.

“Good.”

“However, I strongly recommend against taking such extreme measures again. Any information leak could be disastrous for relations between humanity and the other species.”

Rorke snorted.

“Relations.”

He shook his head.

“We also need specimens from the other species.”

Helena went quiet.

“Elves and Witches in particular,” Rorke continued. “We have almost no understanding of what they're capable of, and their abilities could prove even more dangerous than those of vampires.”

He looked toward the report.

“I'll find a way to secure one of each for your research.”

This time, when Helena answered, her voice was noticeably cooler.

“I see.”

“Good.”

“I'll be waiting, then.”

Rorke smiled.

“I'm glad we've reached an understanding.”

“I need to prepare for the incoming vampire,” Helena replied. “If you'll excuse me, Mr. Vice President.”

The call ended.

Rorke lowered the phone.

For a moment, he stared at the darkened screen.

Then he snorted.

Scientists.

Always worrying about ethics and procedures when decisive action was required.

Helena Strauss was fortunate he'd given her the opportunity at all.

He could have selected any number of researchers willing to do what was necessary without questioning every decision.

But she was exceptionally capable, and the Institute possessed facilities that would be difficult to replicate elsewhere.

For now, she would remain useful.

Rorke returned his attention to the report.

If he and a handful of others were the only people capable of recognizing what awaited humanity, then so be it.

Someone had to act.

Someone had to recognize that these creatures weren't simply another collection of immigrants or foreign nations with whom humanity could negotiate.

They were competitors.

Competitors with advantages humanity could never naturally overcome.

If allowed to flourish, they would eventually dominate the planet.

Perhaps not tomorrow.

Perhaps not in a hundred years.

But eventually.

Humanity would become dependent on them, then subordinate to them, and finally find itself fighting merely to survive.

Rorke refused to permit that future.

He would protect mankind, even if doing so required decisions weaker men couldn't stomach.

Even if those decisions eventually led to the extinction of every supernatural species.

Vampires.

Werewolves.

Elves.

Witches.

Such creatures belonged in storybooks, where their unnatural abilities could frighten children into behaving.

They had no place in the real world.

Rorke set the report aside and reached for another document.

History would understand.

One day, when humanity remained free because of the decisions he'd made, people would recognize him for what he was.

A hero.

Perhaps the most important man of his generation.

And if others couldn't recognize that yet, he would simply have to save them without their gratitude.