Chapter: The lodge

That night the yard in front of the white villa was swarming with black cars, the lights from the windows gleaming in their polished lacquer and tinted panes. Each lodge member had brought their own mistress, and they were let off at the entrance stairs up to the house. Matthew arrived as one of the last members, but not the least important, on the contrary. At his hand he held Rose in a tight grip. She had been told to let her headless doll stay home. She was going with her father to one of the important meetings. Pouting, she had agreed.

They went up the stairs and were greeted by Jared and his beautiful wife Lena at the front door. Both prominent beings, with their dark skin like bronze and grey eyes like stars. Dark elves had always fascinated him, but he kept telling himself why: their easily manipulated origin, their pride and their community built upon the idea of old values and yet saturated by taboos.

They greeted each other with a formal nod.

"Lord Darklighter, I'm pleased you could make it tonight," Jared said and guided his guest inside the entrance hall, not noting Rose's presence, although he was awkwardly aware of her.

"The pleasure is all mine, it's been a while now, I thought I'd come by and see how things were," Matthew explained as a servant hastened forth to take his cape and Rose's little coat which barely covered the pink dress.

"Well, then it's good that we're so many tonight," Jared said with a smile. Sure, because they knew I was coming, Matthew thought.

They were led into the dining hall where the dinner table had been set for 14 people. The women were going to dine by themselves in a small lobby. There was no talk of them, due to the fact that almost every one of the lodge members had mistresses. Discussing private matters such as marriage and relationships were prohibited during the meetings. They were solely for the purpose of political and financial subjects. And the irony was that almost every time there was a lodge meeting, the members had new mistresses escorting them there. The matter seemed always pressing, the questioning of their new companions, but there was never one word exchanged about this.

Matthew was seated at the end of the table, Jared at the other end, as the lord of the house, but Matthew had the seat as the guest of honour. It was customary to do so. The lord of the vampires was not to be degraded into something as simple as a business man, although everyone around him had almost as high a position as he had. He was just that slight bit higher, which made him impossible to compare to and easy to wish dead.

A chair was brought in for Rose. She insisted on being at her father's side, and neither would he allow her to be left out of his sight. The men at the table were known to be just as easily tempted by a child as they were tempted by the lush women they brought with them at every meeting, but Rose they only observed. She was out of their reach, and she had made that perfectly clear at the first lodge meeting where Terrios Philippe had tried to reach for her and she had planted her sharp teeth in his hand. Blood had gushed from the wounds and her poison had infected the wound. Only Matthew had been able to draw it out again, and for the rest of his days Terrios would have a scar reminding him to keep his hands of Matthew Darklighter's dolls.

The bell rang, the doors to the adjacent lobby were closed and the guests were seated around the table. There was quiet chatting all around as the meals were brought in. One plate for each, special dishes for everyone. A pitcher with steaming hot blood was passed around, as was red and white wine along with a nectar-like liquid which smelled sweet and subtle. Rose was served a plate full of raw meat, and Matthew kept an eye on her to make sure she didn't dig in with her bare hands but used fork and knife as he had taught her.

Nobody addressed him as they ate. Actually it was a tradition not to speak at the table, a test to see if any of the dishes had been poisoned, but those were the old days, and the silent conversation gained strength as people finished.

"So, Lord Darklighter, I hear you've had some trouble with yet another nosy detective," the man at his right asked, a young shadow creature no doubt, clad in a robe with a long hood and the face invisible beneath it. Arthos was his name.

"Indeed," Matthew smiled lightly. "Mortals," he chuckled to himself as he lifted his glass for another refill from one of the servants who stood at the walls. "They seldom know when one warning is enough. Usually I can pay them to keep their mouths shut, but what good is that if their lips don't stay sealed?" acknowledging laughter spread across the table. He lifted his glass to a silent toast and the blood tasted magnificently delicious.

"But what end did she meet?" Arthos asked.

"A kind one," he said.

"We also heard of your deal with Mr. Parpijetsky." Matthew eyed out his friend and rival, Count Alvanion, dark haired, pale and with that sleek smile he so hated and adored. A true vampire-count, by his standards, and a rival among the business companies no doubt. Alvanion had hoped to get the deal with Mr. Parpijetsky before Matthew, but as it seemed now, he just had to accept the fact that his superior had had the better of him.

"The rumours travel fast," Matthew said and held Alvanion's eyes. "It was only yesterday."

"Be the ears and eyes of the invisible children to achieve every truth of your world," Arthos said solemnly. Matthew laughed and they all imitated him.

"No more wine for this shadow," he said with a grin. Rose who had been sitting quietly digesting her food looked around as if she had only now realized that she was at a party.

"Father let us play with Mr. Parpijetsky in the dungeon," she said, her voice so thrillingly innocent and yet chilly and cold. Matthew glanced at her before looking back up at the prominent men all around him.

"Take what has been given, and take even more when the game isn't good enough," he elaborated.

"My latest addition to my dungeon was my former mistress," Terrios Philippe remarked. Laughter yet again.

"Had she been unfaithful?" a werewolf across the table asked with a cocked eyebrow in Terrios' direction.

"No, she burned my dinner."

Laughter again.

"Now, isn't it a waste to put a mistress in a dungeon?" Alvanion asked. "Their blood gets so cold."

"But they shut up," Terrios said eloquently.

"Must be a question of taste," Matthew said. "Warm blood or silence? I don't know which I'd want."

"But that detective business was rather harsh, wasn't it?" Jared asked from the other end of the table.

"Indeed it was," Matthew said.

"And it all originated from..."

"Some missing children," Matthew gave a shrug and swallowed the last of the contents of his goblet. "But mortals being what mortals are... I have no regrets."

"Who has regrets?" a werewolf by the name of Harry Cunningham asked.

"Don't trouble your mind with regrets, that's what my old mistress used to tell me when I broke the spine of a disobedient servant!" a ruddy, broad demon by the name of Carlos Magenta boomed. He had already downed three goblets of wine and was on to the nectar-liquid.

"Did she end up in the dungeon?" Terrios asked scornfully.

"No, I buried her in the backyard along with the servant," Magenta answered. Laughter yet again.

Decadence, Matthew thought as he looked around. Who can surpass the others with their bestial and brutal stories? A simple competition for respect. Their mistresses were mere play toys, sweet, delicate and easily tempted. He, on the other hand, took mistresses to persuade business men. He would never end up with whores like those girls next door. They had no influence; they were useless like pieces of torn paper.

They finished dinner and rose to walk into the parlour where they walked around, the air buzzing with conversations about previous businesses. The door to the glass covered terrace was opened and a gush of fresh air rushed in to the warm room. Candles flickered violently. A box of cigars was passed around. Matthew had none. He put Rose in an arm chair and went to the open terrace door to gaze out into the darkness. Alvanion joined him silently. He had as much confidence in Alvanion as Zacharias, which was unfortunate now that their businesses rivaled.

"So, I presume it went as expected with Mr. Parpijetsky," Alvanion said.

"He was just as easy as the rest of them are," Matthew answered quietly and turned to look at the noble count, who averted eye-contact out of respect of his lord. He had always admired him, his visions and determination.

"I guess I'll soon have to admit my betting was wrong," Alvanion said taking a long drag on a cigarette.

"Betting?"

"Yes, Magenta was confident that I'd be able to overrule you one day in this, and Mr. Parpijetsky was the actual reason for the bet," Alvanion explained. Matthew let out a light laughter.

"Well, Alvanion, I appreciate your self-confidence, that you'll bet on something that you're not even sure of," he said. "However, your skills serve you well. I'd like to ask you to consider something."

"Which is?" Alvanion frowned.

"An offer and I'd be surprised if you backed out."

"Enlighten me."

Matthew took a deep breath and managed a smile. "I'd like to offer you a position within my company."

Alvanion blinked, slightly taken aback by the sudden opportunity. "And I'll be sure you won't hang me in your dungeon?" he asked hesitantly.

"Quite. Consider it. I'm in need of visionary men like yourself, and you seem quite up to the task, let alone that your company would benefit from such a bargain," Matthew said.

"I'll... I'll give you a call when I've discussed it with my partners," Alvanion ended.

"So, what are you two rascals up to?" Magenta's voice boomed as he stepped over to the open door, his cigar fumed violently. Compared to Magenta, Matthew was tall and spindle almost, like a tree, but far more graceful and charismatic. He merely threw an overbearing glance at Magenta, wondering how on earth he managed to hold on to his ladies.

"We are merely planning to take over the world, Magenta, but I suppose that's something you've never really been up to?" Matthew asked. Magenta laughed.

"Oh, Darklighter, you're a funny one at times. No, no, I benefit from the world citizens. To own a world wouldn't be my cup of tea to be frank. I prefer exploitation of poor souls," he said and if he hadn't had the respect he had, he would have patted Matthew's shoulder like a friend. But he stayed his hand. Alvanion didn't look at Magenta; the disgust with his attitude and mere presence was visible in the sneer at the corner of his mouth.

The slightly tense atmosphere between the three of them was dissolved when the door went up and the girls streamed into the parlour. The rustling of dresses and chuckling laughter mingled with the tingling of jewels and clinking of crystal glasses broke off the business conversations. Each mistress sought out her partner and was introduced now to the surrounding men.

Alvanion was joined by a rather beautiful werewolf girl, slightly avant-garde in her attitude; she wore a leather dress in a provocative design, high heels and rings up and down her ears. Her hair was a wild, black mane with wooden pearls and leather strings attached. Primitive but beautiful. Matthew suspected her of having a slight bit of dark elf blood in her because her ears were pointy and her skin was bronze. Therese was her name.

Matthew waved at Rose to come over and she skipped through the room in and out between the dresses to grasp his hand with a loving glance up at her father. Being separated for too long was almost heart-breaking to her. Matthew saw a lot of eyes follow her and instinctively the girls discovered the source. Now, no matter how rich their masters were, they couldn't compare to the Darklighter himself. And seeing a man of his position with a child at his side - his daughter no doubt - sent the most of them in a swoon. He could read their minds in the air waves, their wishes to carry his children, to raise them, to be at his side. But where was the girl's mother? He sure was still a bachelor. And he had a son who hadn't married yet either. Their interest in their masters' acquaintances was superficial and all the while as they chatted away about weather, home, wars and crises, their eyes turned now and then to observe the lord of darkness at the door to the terrace, with his little child by the hand.

"So," Therese turned and looked inquiringly at Matthew, her head lightly askew. "I hear that you've just opened a new headquarter for your firm. Fancy that? Doesn't it draw a bit too much attention from the mortals?" she asked. Matthew smiled at her. Her tone, there was something discreetly exciting and yet reserved about it, he liked it.

"Perhaps, but a man of my position can make many great monuments and still stay on line with my privacy," he answered. "Darklighter Tower is a monument of creation, inspiring mortals to create and not destroy."

"Isn't that a bit weird now that we're actually supposed to destroy them and rise to power one day?" Therese asked and cocked an eyebrow. Matthew held back a surprised expression. "That's what my good man here says," she patted Alvanion's arm and Matthew glanced at the count, whose lips were held together in a thin line.

"Rese, I told you not in public," he whispered. Therese held a hand across her mouth but her eyes showed that she had known all along to disguise the secret, probably a dream whispered in the dark nights of the bedroom gloom.

"Now, there's a thing I didn't know about you, Al," Matthew said. "I admire men of vision, but if they're trying to take over the world behind my back, I might think twice before offering them a new position in my company."

Alvanion smiled vaguely. "It was just an expression," he said. "I meant the whole nation of dark creatures of course."

"Indeed," Matthew said. He knew the teasing would cause Alvanion's desperation to get into his company, and Therese would pay. Well, at least if she went home with the count. Matthew would see to it that it wouldn't end that way.

They moved about in the crowd and eagerly, the prominent men introduced their mistresses to as many as possible, desperately trying to hold Matthew at their place for as long as possible with small-talk of politics and finances. They knew if they played their cards right their mistresses would end up on his hook and perhaps in the end could receive his secrets from a love-nest in the great mansion, secrets neither of them would ever possess unless they paid in flesh and blood.

After some time, the ladies were escorted to another room upstairs where they would remain for the rest of the evening. The doors were closed. Matthew called on Nathaniel who sat in the entrance hall waiting, and made him drive Rose home. This part of the night was not something for her. Some moments passed before the real dishes of the evening turned up. A group of four lustrous and provocatively clad women - whores specially delivered from London city - were escorted in and the fun began. They were his gift to the company, he always took care of those arrangements, and it was the easiest way to attract them. Four of the kind. To entertain at a party for 15 business men, among them Darklighter himself. No one asked questions. As always.

The wine flowed, the blood coursed through their veins and the intoxication was high. The girls knew the game. At first they served the men, pouring drinks like waitresses until their touches and contact became more and more intimate. The parlour rang of laughter and moans now and then, when they served at the best of their abilities. In the couches, arm chairs or even on the carpeted floor.

The conversations never really stopped. Matthew, for one, never participated other than observing with a smile, encouraging his men. At the beginning he was always invited, especially by the girls themselves, but he knew their price and wouldn't even dream of drinking their blood. Jared as well, being the lord of the house, didn't participate either; he knew Lena would check on him later. When the two of them had married, there had been a lot of problems between them, especially about Jared's mistresses and lovers, but in the end he had resigned and acknowledged his wife's demands. They seemed to love each other, somewhere at least, a thing which wasn't quite the ordinary in those circles of society.

Matthew admired his will-power when he watched the whores unfold their skills on the floor, but on the other hand, they were easy. He wouldn't sink to such a level. He knew Nathaniel did now and then, but then again... that's Nathaniel. Alvanion too, and Terrios, perhaps the four most prominent persons in the party.

It always escalated at some point. Cunningham was never able to contain himself and changed into his werewolf-shape, frightening the girls, which just resulted in even more laughter. Only now did Alvanion throw himself into the game as he and Terrios shared one of the girls, Terrios tearing her apart, Alvanion drinking her blood. It spilled on the carpets but to the attentive eye it was obvious that it had happened before. Three girls were down; the last lay naked, sprawled on a couch, in pain from several rough rapes. The men stood around her smiling, debating what to do with her. Matthew felt for her. At least one soul should go to hell in peace. He'd have fun with her down there later.

He rose and went to the circle of men who fell silent as they parted, letting him through. She opened her swollen eyes and her bleeding lip trembled as he stepped closer. The kindest of all kind smiles spread on his lips, his eyes were full of sympathy and mercy as he advanced and stopped in front of her. The men around him held their breath. It was an unusual sight to see him interact with the toys he had brought for them.

Slowly he bent down and kissed her forehead, such a light touch of his lips, and she shut her eyes tight as convulsive sobs stuck in her throat and tears began streaming down her face. He put a finger to her lips and hushed her down.

"There, there, my love," he said and ran a hand through her tousled, platinum blonde hair. "Did you think it would be a fun night?" She nodded, weak, defeated. "Did you think it was going to help you out of your work, seeing these prominent men, seducing one of them - perhaps even me - to buy your freedom?" She nodded again, blurred sounds coming from her lips. "Now, you see, we're not men to be believed in. We're not saints who buy anyone's freedom. We're not saviours, who carry you away from prison. We do not thrive on love for individuals. To believe that you - of all people - would win one of our hearts, now that's a dream, but a shattered one. Just like your life," he tossed a strand of her hair away from her face as he looked sadly into her wet eyes. "To us, you're dead, even before you enter our midst. You died when you were born. And we thrive on the dead and the dying. Their pain is our pleasure, their cries of pain, our moans of passion. Now you, I will save you," a light was ignited in her eyes. "I will save you for some fun later. In the pits of Hell where you'll be accompanying several others suffering your own fate." He straightened up and bared his right wrist where he gashed the flesh with one of his fangs. The black blood swelled to the surface slowly. She stared wide-eyed and disbelieving at him as he bent down again, placed a hand under her chin to keep her head steady, before allowing one drop of the black liquid to trickle down her throat. She shut her eyes, the taste seemed abominable. It took less than a second before long, thin black lines stretched across her pale, naked body. She looked at the transformation with horror, the shriek stuck still in her throat, and when she looked up at him her eyes were wet as the white colour and the iris were slowly engulfed by black. She sat motionless, a statue, a corpse. Dead.

Jared called the servants to come and collect the corpses. The show was actually over, but some stayed and chatted on. When the worst traces of the misdeeds had been removed, the ladies were led downstairs again. At least Jared greeted Lena with a heartfelt kiss. The other mistresses sidled in between their masters, still thinking they were going to have a shot at Matthew.

But the ball was over. They were dismissed slowly as they went for the entrance hall where their coats hung ready. Matthew went through as the last, eyeing Alvanion and Therese in a quiet but intense argument. Alvanion stormed out with his coat, leaving Therese in tears.