Nightly Pursuit

"Franz Leopold wasn't the only one who noticed how Alisa, Luciano, and Ivy had disappeared through the secret gate. Malcolm waited for a moment, then slipped out as well. But unlike Franz Leopold, he wasn't interested in following the others. He wanted to enjoy the freedom of the night alone, as he had long been accustomed to in London. With his hands behind his back, he strolled northward across the ruins. He absorbed the scents of the night and let his gaze wander over the starry sky. It was quiet and peaceful here, like in the countryside, but beyond the ruins, the nocturnal life of the great city pulsed, never completely coming to a standstill.

He had no desire for company tonight. It was so hard to stay away from them, to resist them. They smelled so delicious. Malcolm sighed. One more year he had to wait. Then finally, he would become a full member of the clan and be allowed to hunt with the others. The longing was so great that he already imagined the scent of a young girl wafting into his nose.

How sweet and tempting! It grew stronger and more urgent. This was no imagination! He froze. There, behind the bushes, he noticed movement. Another dark cloak, a hood over the head. Silently, Malcolm approached. He pushed aside the admonitions of his reason. He had to take a closer look!

Latona was angry. Once again, her uncle had refused to take her along. After pacing back and forth in her room for a while, she couldn't bear it anymore. She threw on his cloak and left the house. Passing by the Capitoline Hill, she wandered to the ruins, deserted under the starry sky. It was lonely, dark, and a little eerie here.

Latona loved the thrill of the forbidden. As she walked, she pulled the red mask out of her pocket and tied it over her face. What if she were really accepted into the circle? Would she be in danger then? Would she have to look around with every step to see if no enemy was following her? Latona stopped and looked around. Wasn't there a shadow moving? Wasn't a dark figure sneaking from one bush to another? Or were they just branches swaying in the night breeze? Her excitement about the nocturnal adventure turned into fear. She retreated to the remnants of a wall. Her heart beat faster. She had to overcome the fear if she wanted to become her uncle's assistant! She tried to breathe slower and walked on with firm steps.

Malcolm silently approached. Yes, it was a human girl hiding under the old-fashioned cloak. And what did she have in front of her face? Malcolm couldn't imagine that the Romans wore masks outside of carnival time. Or was she on her way to a masquerade ball? He took another step closer. The girl looked around cautiously. He could feel her fear. No, she was wearing trousers under the cloak! Not a ball gown.

This was getting stranger and stranger. What was a human girl doing here at this time, alone, and moreover, in this attire? He edged even closer to her. It was only curiosity, he defended himself against his admonishing conscience. Perhaps he could learn more about her and her nocturnal excursion. He felt her heartbeat accelerate. He smelled the blood flowing faster and faster. He was only two steps away from her. Her consciousness hadn't yet perceived him, but her body reacted to the danger. She gasped softly, turned around, and started to run. She gathered the long cloak to avoid stumbling. A slender branch got caught in her hair. In panic, the girl tore herself free and ran on. She probably didn't even notice that the band came loose and the mask fell down. She just ran towards the lights and the life of the city, which began again at Piazza Venezia.

Malcolm resisted the urge to chase after the prey and stop it. Instead, he approached the bush and bent down. The red mask lay velvety soft in his hand. He lifted it to his nose and absorbed the scents, among which he clearly perceived the scent of the girl.

Franz Leopold ran so fast that his feet barely touched the ground. He heard the panting of the pursuer. The young vampire was quick and agile, but he was no match for this beast. He felt it stop, duck, and leap. He tried to throw himself to the side, but the wolf was faster and landed with all four paws on his back. Franz Leopold fell flat on his face. He tasted moist earth on his tongue. Although he wanted to fight and scream, he didn't move from the spot, because he felt all too clearly the fangs in his neck. Then he heard fast steps approaching. "That was a clean catch," Alisa called out.

"'Yes, with one leap, he falls like a tree!'" triumphed the Roman. Franz Leopold swore he would make him pay. Under no circumstances would he ask Ivy-Máire to call the wolf back.

"Nicely done, Seymour," he heard her melodious voice. "Now step aside so we can see who you've caught." The wolf only growled and didn't move from its spot.

"At least not a human," Luciano observed.

"Seymour!" The sharpness in that single word surprised him. The wolf's jaws receded. Slowly, it lifted its four paws and stepped away from its prey. A hand reached for his shoulder.

Franz Leopold slapped the hand away and turned abruptly. "Get your thick fingers off me!" He tried to appear as composed as possible, which was difficult given his dirt-streaked cheeks and tousled hair.

Alisa rolled her eyes. "I knew I recognized that hair ribbon. What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same," Franz Leopold retorted coldly. "Did I interrupt your forbidden feast? My apologies if I did!"

"Feast?" Luciano was confused. "What do you mean? You don't think we were lurking after this woman, do you?"

"A woman? Very interesting. What could she be doing here?"

"We'd like to know that too," said Alisa.

Franz Leopold raised an eyebrow. "Don't even try to deceive me with cheap tricks."

"We have no idea what she was doing here," Alisa snapped. "But maybe we would have found out if you hadn't blundered in like a clumsy human!"

The jab hit home. How dare she insult him like that! The two glared at each other angrily until Ivy's calm voice broke in.

"I suggest we end this quarrel and return to the Domus Aurea. We were merely on an outing under Luciano's interesting guidance." The Roman beamed at her. "So there's no need for you to make a conspiracy out of it and secretly follow us. If you want to come along, just say so!"

He couldn't hold her gaze, which infuriated him immensely. But even more infuriating was that she could read his thoughts and feelings better than he could hers.

"Come, let's go back," Ivy said once more. Seymour stepped to her side, but kept Franz Leopold under close watch. "Look, the sky is already brightening."

The others looked eastward, where the stars had already faded. Only now did they notice the fatigue that always preceded sunrise. They hurried back and entered the Domus Aurea undisturbed through the side gate.

They parted ways in the deserted lounge. The boys went to the right, where they encountered Malcolm, who was obviously also running late. Alisa and Ivy entered the first chamber on the left. Their hope that no one had noticed their absence ended here. Hindrik sat on Alisa's closed sarcophagus and greeted them with an assessing look.

"What do you want?" Alisa asked challengingly. "Would you please get up so I can retire?"

A twitch played at the corners of his mouth as he complied with her request. "I hope your outing was enjoyable," he said, alternating his gaze between them.

"Yes, thank you," Ivy said politely, inclining her head.

Hindrik grinned. "Don't look so glum, Alisa. I have no intention of giving you a sermon. I never assumed that you would confine yourselves to the Domus Aurea for a year or only go outside accompanied by the professors. I trust your judgment is developed enough not to put yourselves in danger. Additionally, I get the impression that the Conte always has a few of his servants patrolling vigilantly among the ruins. However, I cannot allow you to roam around in these rags. That wouldn't be in Lady Elina's best interest. Take off the tunic and trousers and give them to me."

"Never!" protested Alisa passionately. "How do you expect me to do that? Am I supposed to constantly walk around in this horribly uncomfortable dress? Besides, it's torn!"

Hindrik approached Alisa's chest and lifted the dress that had been cleaned and mended. "I found a nice little Roman girl named Raphaela who knows how to handle a needle and thread." Alisa opened her mouth to speak, but he didn't let her get a word in. "And besides, I got you this." He took a bundle of fabric and handed it to her.

Alisa unrolled it. It consisted of a white silk shirt, a simple but well-cut jacket with short tails, and long black trousers. A frilled necktie, white silk stockings, and flat leather shoes completed the outfit. Alisa looked up at him speechlessly.

Hindrik smiled. "I think the tight skirts are really a bit hindering for your exercises - but now it's high time for you to retire!"

He nudged the lid of Ivy's sarcophagus, waited for her to lie down, and then closed it again. Seymour jumped onto the stone sarcophagus and settled down, snout between his paws.

Alisa quickly slipped into her new clothes. "Thank you," she said as she handed him her old things.

Hindrik opened her sarcophagus. "No problem. Nothing against your dress, but this suits you better."

She looked down at herself and then smiled at him. "Isn't it? And I'm sure I'll be much happier with the much more practical trousers on many occasions!"

"I don't doubt that," the servant murmured. "Oh, by the way, there are newspapers in Rome too!" He reached into the pocket of his cloak and handed her a new edition of the Osservatore Romano. "If you diligently learn Italian, you'll be able to read them soon."

"Oh, that's wonderful. I was already missing my newspaper reading." She unfolded the paper and glanced over the pictures and the foreign words.

"Not now! Put it aside," Alisa sighed as Hindrik closed the heavy lid over her.

"I'm curious to see what Signora Enrica will show us today," Alisa said to Ivy, who had seated herself beside her on the bench with the golden cover.

Luciano came in yawning, ran his hands through his tousled dark hair, and sat down next to Chiara on the bench opposite. "Signora Enrica? No, I don't think she'll be teaching us today. I heard she's going to visit some catacombs with Professor Ruguccio."

Tammo, who sat on Alisa's other side, craned his neck. "The professors aren't here? Does that mean we're free? Fernand said he'd show me a game they always play in their labyrinths under Paris." Luciano shook his head.

"Fernand? I thought you didn't like him?" Alisa asked.

Tammo shrugged. "Oh well, he's grubby and smells bad and talks a bit strangely, but he's actually alright. You just have to be careful not to provoke him. He hits quite hard." He rubbed his upper arm discreetly. "Anyway, I prefer him to all the overdressed Dracas bunch who always look at me as if I were a cockroach."

Alisa glanced briefly at Franz Leopold, who sat with the rest of the Dracas somewhat apart. "Yeah, there's something to that. And he's such a sight to behold as long as he keeps his mouth shut."

"I've never seen a more beautiful boy," Ivy confirmed, but without the longing tone Chiara used when talking about Franz Leopold.

"I don't understand it," said Alisa. "How can a vampire have such wonderful skin, such a noble face, majestic stature, and yet be thoroughly repulsive?"

"He's not," Ivy disagreed.

"No?" The two Romans and the Vamalia from Hamburg looked at her perplexed. "Then you haven't listened to him for longer than three words!" claimed Chiara.

Ivy inclined her head, allowing the candlelight to glide over her long silver hair. "Yes. I've listened not only to his words but also to his thoughts and feelings."

"And you claim he's not the worst monster walking around here?" Chiara exclaimed.

"Yes, I do."

"True, I think Karl Philipp is even worse," Luciano agreed. Alisa wasn't listening to him. She looked back at Franz Leopold, who, judging by his expression, had just said something derogatory to Joanne. She would have liked to know what prompted Ivy's statement, but she suspected that the Irish girl, unlike Franz Leopold, wouldn't divulge what she had picked up on due to her special ability to read thoughts.

The pretty young Unruled, assisting Zita, entered the hall with the squealing baby in her arms. In her other hand, she balanced a tray laden with cups and two pitchers. The child wriggled, and the cups clinked as they slid.

Luciano smiled at Raphaela but made no move to get up and help her. Alisa jumped up and helped her safely place the tray on a table.

"Thank you. You really didn't have to do that," Raphaela said somewhat embarrassed. She had a really pretty smile!

"That was obvious!"

Alisa returned to her seat. Raphaela distributed the cups and then hurried back to the door. "I think I need to feed the little monster quickly, or there'll be no peace at all! The smaller, the greedier, I have the impression." She gently booped the child's nose and left. The squeaking faded away.

Ivy sipped at the fresh blood, her sharp fangs shimmering snow-white in the lamplight, while Luciano downed the contents of the cup in a long gulp, as if he hadn't had a drink for nights.

"It's an impure child, isn't it?" Alisa said to Luciano.

"Yes, and Raphaela will have it on her hands for the next eternity. It will always be like this!"

"The thought is dreadful," Alisa muttered.

Luciano agreed. "The Conte and the venerable Giuseppe have warned Melita repeatedly, but she wouldn't listen, and now we have the screaming bundle here, who will never grow up. Melita has long lost interest in taking care of the child!" They fell into an uncomfortable silence until Tammo spoke up.

"But who will then hold the lessons if the professors aren't in the house?" Hope tinged his voice.

"I'm afraid there are still a few here in the house that you will get to know better than you might like," groaned Luciano. "Look over there. That's Signora Letizia. And next to her stands her brother Umberto. They are, so to speak, the scholars among the Venerables. And their appearance here tonight fills me with the nasty suspicion that we'll soon find ourselves in their clutches again!"

Alisa looked at the two vampires who had entered the hall with the golden ceiling and were scanning the gathered students. They looked so similar like twins: both were small, had only thin white hair left on their heads, and looked as dried out as two mummies. The parchment-like skin, stretched tightly over their cheekbones, didn't make their features particularly sympathetic. Their lips were so thin that they could hardly be discerned.

Beside her, Tammo emitted a soft gasp and reached for his blood cup. His hand trembled.

"Do you not think you're exaggerating?" teased his sister, standing up. Class would begin shortly.

"Let's hope not," he grumbled and followed her.

"Do you still think I'm exaggerating?" Alisa stared at the note in her hand, which Tammo had subtly passed to her an hour after the start of class. She wasn't sure if she could laugh about it. She was curious and therefore interested in Roman history, but how the two Venerables conducted the class simply left her speechless. While Letizia walked back and forth between the benches with a cane in hand, her brother sat in a comfortable armchair at the front, his claw-like hands folded over his lean body, rattling off names and dates from the time of the Roman empires.

How to remember all this? At the beginning, Alisa had tried to jot down the most important things. Almost reverently, she had unpacked her new school folder and laid out paper, ink, and one of the steel nibs, but now she just stared at the pages before her, covered with incomplete sentences, numbers, and names, unsure if they were spelled correctly. Not writing was even worse, as she could no longer distract herself from the unbearable voice of the professor. It sounded as if he were dragging his curved nails across a large slate with every word. Alisa shuddered.

"What are you doing?" The cane snapped down on the table in front of her. Alisa flinched. Before she could make the note disappear, the clawed hand had already snatched it from her.

"What does this mean? Do you want to complain about the Nosferas and their Domus Aurea? You offspring of insignificant families?" Again, the cane struck. Alisa pressed her lips together defiantly. "Hold out your hands!"

The cane began to dance. It struck with more force than one would have expected from her dried-up appearance! Alisa bit her lips to keep from screaming. Nevertheless, a groan escaped her. The other students stared at her wide-eyed, while the professor continued unabashedly. Tammo slowly rose from his seat. Did he intend to protest against her punishment? For the first time, she felt proud of her little brother, but she shook her head almost imperceptibly. What good would it do if he also got beaten?

She focused on the faces staring at her. Most displayed shock or even hatred, which surely wasn't directed at her. Joanne and Fernand, on the other hand, looked completely indifferent. Maybe it was normal for them? Thinking of the two rough brothers who led the Parisian family, she could well imagine that. Only in Anna Christina's face did she see a malicious smile.

Finally, the professor paused, and Alisa carefully placed her battered hands in her lap. "Why aren't you writing anymore?" snapped Signora Letizia.

Malcolm rose from his seat. "Forgive me, Professoressa," he interrupted in his refined British tone. She whirled around to face him. "What is it, boy?"

He too had tried in vain to take notes and had given up after a while. She stormed over to him, let the cane fall onto his desk, and exclaimed, "Recite the emperors to me. Who was the first? Come on, it must come immediately: Julius Caesar, then Augustus, Tiberius, Caligula, Claudius up to the year fifty-four, and then?"

"Signora, it's not possible to follow the explanations in the manner you've presented. So, if you would please continue a bit slower and perhaps repeat the most important parts?"

The cane struck the tabletop once again. "Nero, of course. Nero, Vespasian, Titus, Domitian!" She whirled around with a jerk and pointed the tip of her cane at Luciano. "And then?!"

The boy jumped up. Hands nervously clasped with chewed nails in front of his chest, he stuttered, "Trajan, Hadrian, Antonius Pius, and then, and then…" He looked around for help until his gaze fell on Chiara. "Marcus Aurelius," he weakly added before sinking back into his chair.

"That wasn't so bad, but you forgot Nerva, and Chiara will receive three strokes if she recites again." Luciano let out a sigh of relief as she turned back to Malcolm. "It's not your place to comment on our lessons. You only need to answer our questions, and if you can't, you will feel the cane. You will soon realize that it's healthier for you to pay attention. Hold out your hands!"

Malcolm hesitated. The venerable one barely reached his chest.

"Hold out your hands!" the professor repeated, growling softly.

Malcolm complied. He didn't flinch or groan as the Signora struck him. Perhaps even stronger than with Alisa, whose hands burned like fire and surely wouldn't be able to hold a pen for a while.

Did it not hurt him at all? His expression remained unchanged, but then Alisa saw his fangs protrude slightly between his pressed lips, and she could feel his rising anger.

When the Signora finally released him, he said with a calm-sounding voice, "After Marcus Aurelius, in the year one hundred eighty, there was Commodus, and in one hundred ninety-three, Septimius Severus." Alisa could only admire his self-control and was pleased by the bewildered expression on Signora Letizia's face.

"Uh, yes, you may sit down. Let's continue with Constantine the Great, who converted to Christianity."

"That was the worst night of my life," Tammo lamented as the venerables finally dismissed the students. Alisa grimly touched her fingers.

"At least you managed to get through the night without beatings."

"Yes, I survived this night, but it probably won't be the last in their company, will it?"

Alisa reluctantly agreed with her brother. "Perhaps we should find out a little about Roman history ourselves?"

Tammo looked at her as if she had suddenly gone mad. He turned away and left his sister alone in the courtyard. Alisa watched him go when a chuckle made her turn around. It was the venerable Giuseppe, reclining on a gilded chaise longue with red velvet cushions. He beckoned her over. Hesitantly, she followed the invitation.

"Good night, venerable Giuseppe," she said, wondering if the address was correct for the former clan leader. Or was he still the Conte? In any case, he didn't correct her.

"Signorina Alisa," he said in a croaky voice, much weaker than it had been a few days ago upon her arrival. "Have you endured your first lesson with our learned siblings?"

"Yes," she replied, drawn out, and then didn't know what else to say. He surely wouldn't want to hear complaints, and Alisa couldn't say anything good about those tormentors.

The old Giuseppe chuckled once more and settled back into his cushions. "Did those wretches torment you vigorously?" Alisa nodded. "They've always enjoyed doing that. I mean, tormenting others. The Conte could tell you a thing or two about that. When my dear grandson was still a child, there were some clashes that were very painful for him. I remember Letizia even bit him in the throat once." Alisa didn't dare ask if he was joking with her.

"Now they're naturally in their element with this academy." He groaned, pressing his flat hand to his abdomen and contorting his face into a grimace.

"Are you not feeling well? Is there anything I can do for you?" Alisa asked. He truly looked awful, as if he had aged centuries in the few nights.

"I'll be fine," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand, laughing hoarsely. "It's the absinthe coursing through my body."

"Absinthe?"

"Devil's brew. Slow decay for humans who destroy their minds, and also ruin for us if we drink their blood. I've long accustomed myself to the taste of nightly wanderers whose blood is heavy with wine. It used to cloud my senses. The young ones still need to be careful who they catch! You can smell it from afar when humans have indulged too much. But absinthe is demonic. I know the circles where caution is needed, but with this girl, I didn't notice that she was almost incapacitated. It was my luck that one of the boys from Enrica's line found me and brought me back here. Now I've been lying useless on this makeshift bed for the second night and have to be fed like a toothless infant!"

"Will you regain your strength?"

"Oh yes, oh yes. The absinthe can't paralyze me forever."

"May the night be with you, venerable Giuseppe, and may it always lead you to fresh blood." Alisa bowed and was about to withdraw, but he held her back.

"Tell the first shadow you find to send Leandro to me. I want him to bring me a book from the library. I need to look something up!"

Alisa looked at him with sparkling eyes. "A library? Here in the Domus Aurea?"

"Yes, indeed. In the eastern wing of the venerables, whose task is to preserve and protect."

"Do all those who wish to read have access?" she asked excitedly.

"Who cares about the old, about traditions and history, and about the great poets of my time?"

"I'm very interested in people and their inventions, and I would also like to learn more about Rome's history."

The old Giuseppe smiled. "I'll pass it on to Leandro. Perhaps he'll show you the rooms and tell you which books you're allowed to read—if you catch him in a good mood!"

"Thank you! I'll have him sent to you immediately," Alisa called out and hurried away.