Captive

On the outskirts of Boston, inside a huge renaissance-styled manor with its own walled park, stables, and servant houses a woman woke up from her slumber. Red, curtained, royal-sized bed covered in comfortable pillows of all sizes perfectly suited her graceful figure in a black nightgown lazily stretching for a minute. Long black hair tangled up between a mess of duvets and her limbs, silky smooth and glowing healthily even without light. Finally, she sat up and opened her big brown eyes set off by meticulously plucked brows and a shapely nose.

Off to deal with clothes and toiletries, she emerged from separate bathroom and garderobe more enchanting with each passing door. Clad in a tight-fitting black dress with lacy finishes on her neckline and long sleeves, her hair slightly curled hanging down to her bare calves, and holding a black lace fan ribbed by a blueish metal set off an Empress temperament and looks to match. Leaving her completely shrouded in darkness bedroom to a dimly lit by candles hanging every ten steps corridor with a capable-looking woman in white-collar clothes awaiting her kneeling on one knee, she sighed and spoke.

"I told you to stop kneeling for four hundred years, can't you listen one day?" perhaps millionth time feeling exasperated after waking up, she looked at her cousin standing up, strikingly similar but much colder, focused-looking face and more voluptuous figure hidden behind her buttoned to the top blouse.

"No." deadpan locking their eyes answered Isabel Blanco.

"Whatever, how is search for origins of that blood going?" two nights ago one of the thralls belonging to Catherine Blanco bought her a gift, Luca's blood acquired for a full six million dollars due to its quantity and recent fame, written guarantees from the Massachusetts Underground Association on it being the best wizard blood any vampire could want. Upon deliriously drinking all the bottles, she shockingly realized an unprecedented occurrence: her heart started beating again, albeit briefly and slowly, she could feel scalding hot blood circulating through her veins, literally bringing cursed and necrotic flesh of undead back to life.

Immediately she gave orders to silence all who know, own, or drank even a drop of this miraculous liquid and carry to her in shackles the wizard it comes from. If not for a few hours left to dawn and lack of definite locations of people involved, she would run around herself. Her hundreds of low-purity servant bloodkin accumulated over the centuries sprang motivated to action, daydreaming about earning their goddess reward.

Despite her family's short time settling in Boston, all of the underground forces knew and respected Catherine as a former Blood Senate member. Rumors regarding her "exile" from New York circulated in the black market for some time until Isabel on an errand overheard a third-rate romance drama script regarded by one particularly ugly warlock as a truth of the matter. Not a week after, most of the idle gossipers mysteriously disappeared, putting an end to her Lady slander in this city and cementing her as the number one power in the state.

"We know it came from Luca Granger, a ten-year-old orphan at st. Joseph's Orphanage. Place is guarded by Father Roberts. Surely you remember him from my reports?" said Isabel with a questioning look.

"Uh, yes, yes. Old priest?" while Catherine did indeed read all her cousin's reports, she long did not pay genuine attention to them.

"Exorcist, just last year he killed a dozen vampires in a lair raid and another thirty at the disco party. I investigated him since then and he has quite a remarkable record, served the Church for forty years, and lived. I included him as the only 'not to provoke' target in Boston." explained patiently Isabel, then went quiet again.

"...just tell me where is the kid immediately." not willing to tolerate the usual teasing her secretary liked to perform, anxious Catherine couldn't wait to have Luca in front of her.

"Day came so we had to recall vampires, they managed to dispose of all involved with Luca's blood without loss. Two seasoned mercenary thralls got the mission of kidnapping, they should be here any minute. Very professional, they requested Invisibility Cloaks and Silent Circle from the warehouse before going." informed Isabel.

"How much time it takes to kidnap a kid, I'm going personally. Those idiots don't understand importance of Luca at all, what if they hurt him?" annoyed with Luca not yet inside her mansion, she headed outside, Isabel following.

"When is the last time you really fought? Father Roberts isn't a simple character, I don't think you can match him. He slaughtered Ottawa families down to the last of them, completely cleaned up the city of dark forces with some backup helpers directly from the Vatican before moving here a decade ago. Wait a bit, if he dies on our turf we would have to run away again either way." Isabel persuaded her Lady earnestly to stop.

"I can always run for it, but maybe you have some point. Let's take the belt." Catherine clenched and unclenched her fists, new power stemming from drinking liters of Luca's blood made her hyperactive since yesterday, tossing and turning in bed all day. Before going out, they went to the basement where her safe was located. Turning around a wheel of the ceiling-high steel door opened with a combination, two women entered the vault. Piles of golden, silver, and bronze coins on the left side along with display cabinets for jewelry and gems were of no interest to both of them. Right side occupied cabinets filled with bottles of potions, rare magical ingredients, and more precious enchanted items got ignored too. At the end of the middle pathway was only one pedestal, a thick golden chain of a belt studded with rubies and emeralds, runes glowing silver written on all of its surfaces.

"What a junkyard in here, you added some things lately?" commented Catherine, the belt upon her wearing turned to resemble a silver scarf wrapped around her thin waist had an internal space created by casting Undetectable Extension Charm inside one of the hollowed-out gems.

After Isabel's meticulous explanation of new equipment designed to save her Lady in case of various scenarios she came up with while reading boredly about weird hexes and creatures, Catherine felt a bit dizzy trying to save all this information in her brain, nonetheless, she had to admit ultimate practicality and convenience of some gadgets present. Now not worried at all for her possible fight with Father Roberts, she left and run the kilometers separating her from Luca as fast as she could.

Approaching within a hundred meters of the orphanage, she felt the connection of power left in her heart to a human child. Smiling happily she slowed down and thought how to make the best use of him, how to treat her first exclusive bloodslave.

Close enough to see the entrance, she saw an Audi 5000 parking in front of it. As a gray-haired priest got out of it, their eyes met. Not very concealed standing there in high heels, old and expensive dress, and an odd-looking metal fan in her hand, she wondered what to do.

Father Roberts not concerned much about exchanging pleasantries with a woman that could be eighty percent identified as a vampire just by a look surged into action. His right hand went inside his robe and took out a crusader sword inscribed with stylized golden 'Deus Vult' along its fuller, left hand touching his cross earring.

"Bless me, Father!" he shouted activating his equipment and lowering his center of gravity leaning forward, he got ready to close the distance and cut off Catherine's head. She still perplexed about how to deal with him, tapped the tip of the fan against her full sensual lips.

Practiced thousands of times sudden charge against an opponent with a tricky upwards-slanted cut began another battle against the evil of this world. Catherine took an elegant step back as the blade started its motion, Father Roberts not fazed by his opponent's faster speed stopped his sword in a position ready to thrust one-handedly from the elbow behind his body, second hand inside his robe yet again. Catherine spotted this tempting opening, whether planned by him or not, the chance was good for her to attempt to sink claws into his flesh. Closed fan striking aside the unsteadily held sword, she transformed her hand into a claw and reached to puncture his shoulder. Father Roberts's second classic move anticipates just that, borrowing the kinetic energy of a vampire's strike equal in strength to several men's worth, he spun like lightning following his blade and cut horizontally at her waist. Risk of him exposing back to an opponent offset by her investing into two moves simultaneously, not ready to block or attack differently at all. One side of his body underneath the robe scarred almost unrecognizably, a testament to many determined or mindless creatures, not giving up on scratching his skin even when faced with a halving strike that ended them.

Catherine didn't commit this mistake, long years without going to a fight left her with a timid mindset. Dancing backward yet again, she got ready to respond to Father Roberts's follow-up. Strike hitting air, his left hand completed the motion of taking out a black Glock 30, sent to him straight from the military training site by a colleague amazed by its performance. Catherine looked curiously at a strange metal object pointed at her torso, if Isabel was here she would definitely facepalm and regret watching only the romantic movies without guns alongside her Mistress.

Pulling the trigger without hesitation a mere meter away from her, the distance too short for most that Father Roberts faced to survive, she felt a premonition of danger and in panic activated one of many spells sealed inside her belt. Opaque red barrier unfolded around her, vague screeching of tormented souls marking it unmistakably belonging to Hell's repertoire. Bullets hit one after another, full thirteen shots. Not yet piercing through, Father Roberts's brows rose in surprise. Both bullets and pistol blessed by a cardinal, made of pure silver, and soaked in Holy Water failed their only reason for existence.

Not stupid enough to come and strike with a sword, that would leave him open to other magic or a counterattack, he dropped the Glock and grabbed his necklace, tearing the cross off his neck. This one was made personally by pope Innocent the Fourth seven hundred thirty-six years ago as a reward for an inquisitor's service, 'ad extirpanda' engraved on the opposite side of Jesus' figure.

With just a light poke, the barrier collapsed and Father Roberts could see the inside. It was empty, at this moment door leading inside the orphanage opened with force enough to pull it off the hinges and flew towards him. Dodging with a side roll, he got up and ran after Catherine heading to the infirmary. Her smoking skin invalidated the disillusionment charm her belt was capable of casting, walls and corridors of the orphanage were regularly sprinkled with Holy Water and filled with innocent prayer of children, evil creatures long forbidden to stride freely.

Hissing through her gritted teeth, Catherine persisted to open the last door separating her from Luca. Her eyes shrunk witnessing Sister Collins dual-wielding Glocks-17, a slightly older model than one of her partner priest, a hail of bullets unleashed towards her. Pincered and desperate, with no room to dodge if she wanted to go inside, she spotted her target laying beside Sister Collins.

"Protego!" another version of barrier, this time transparent white and much weaker than the previous one, blocked first shots while she took out an ashtray from her belt and leaped towards her prey. Barrier collapsed, three bullets hitting her long legs in midair.

"Portus!" one hand holding a marble ashtray, the second one touching Luca's arm she yelled in pain. Their silhouettes warped around the ashtray vanished from the room leaving furious Father Roberts and surprised Sister Collins looking at the place of their departure for a long time.