CHAPTER 215

BANG. BANG. BANG.

A loud and rapturous knock banged furiously against the door of Tristan and Malia's house as if trying to bring it down.

Like the early mornings for the past few days, Boyd and Allison were already at their favorite hanging spot in Tristan's kitchen as the boy made breakfast for the three palefaces and the easily irritable furry, when the furious knocks started coming in.

"Ugh. Who the hell knocks this loud so early in the morning?" Malia grunted and softly massaged her temple to ease the throbbing the rude knocking was causing.

All it took was one whiff from Tristan, followed by three simultaneous whiffs, to know who was at the door. If the expensive perfume wasn't a dead giveaway, the series of self-conceited complaints being spat out behind the door told them who it was.

"Does anyone mind letting her in before she knocks it off its hinges?"

"Nope. This is all you, Allison."

Allison groaned and pushed herself to her feet to open the door and let Lydia in.

"You guys are a bunch of inconsiderate friends, you know that?" She practically started screaming her lungs off the moment her feet stepped inside the house. "I've left over a hundred missed calls and text messages in each of your damned phones and no one replied, except Allison but she only did that once. What the hell guys!? I spent a whole week worried to death about you guys because my head started spinning and all I could hear was gunshots and dying screams… and here you all are, enjoying a damned breakfast without so much as a word to me. SO. NOT. COOL."

Everyone paused and soon, one by one, their heads started hanging low as embarrassment and shame took over them. The ones who had it worse were Allison and Boyd who were quickly overwhelmed by their feelings as they felt genuinely ashamed.

Malia and Tristan noticed that Lydia was really as worried as she said, so worried in fact that even till now – after the unending tirade of rebukes and shameful remarks – all they could feel from her was relief. So much relief that it basically flowed out of her like a stream.

They all took turns apologizing and reasonably explaining why she couldn't get to any of her friends. Yeah, it was lazy patch work at its best but it did its job for now.

After having been caught up to speed, it was now Lydia's turn to gape in disbelief at what they had been up to these last ten days. She was both mortified and stunned into silence respectively by the events leading to the Nogitsune's death and then with the revelation that at this point none of her closest friends were human.

Well she wasn't human too – technically, which could also be argued – but all she got was psychic Morse codes and some black voodoo channeling. Aside from drawing up deathly scenarios, she was not different from humans.

Now, Allison and Boyd were vampires. Bloodborns like Tristan.

Oh and there was an eradication vendetta, in other words a full blown war, on the Argents by another Hunting Family.

"You guys are the absolute worst. Why do I keep doing this to myself?" She muttered under her breath.

"In my defense, not contacting anybody the Nogitsune hasn't gone for was the best available choice. Bringing you and any other person from our pack would have only served to expand the range of the Nogitsune's targets."

She rolled her eyes exaggeratedly at Tristan's poor attempt at a good sounding excuse.

"So what now?" She asked tiredly. They were alright and that was all that mattered.

Malia raised her fork that was wrapped in pasta and pointed it at Allison. "Kill them. Those two have a hunt to complete, meanwhile Tristan and I, along with Barbie's parents, will take care of any Calavera we find."

It was easily put when said in such a way, but what none of them did was act as if the Calavera Hunters were at a complete disadvantage. Their enemy knew all about them and would have prepared enough plans to exploit their weaknesses.

Lydia looked at all of them, focusing mostly on the trio of Tristan, Malia and Allison, and remarked despondently.

"You guys are just high school students and you're talking of killing a Family of Hunters from another country. When did our life turn into this?"

The question was rhetorical and even if it wasn't, none of them felt like hearing the answer to that question.

...

Chris was down in the cellar of his house cleaning his guns and sorting out rows and rows of ammunition, each of them having uniquely different uses and effects. Only most of them were effective against werewolves and creatures of that nature, not humans. Well, a normal bullet does as much as a special one when shot at a human.

"You stayed up all night? You need to get some sleep, Chris." Victoria stood behind him and started massaging his wide shoulder blades, causing him to moan a deep groan of satisfaction.

"Come with me to bed, Chris." She said to him as his eyes fluttered close in relaxation.

"Not… yet. I still need to figure out how we should confront the Calavera." Chris protested weakly, trying to sit upright but his wife held him down strongly by his shoulders.

"What kind of wife will I be if I let my husband work in such a tired state? You can come back to this when you've rested both your body and your brain. Come on."

They both knew that their family was in a very dire spot but Victoria did not let that stop her from performing her duties and obligations as a Hunter and a wife. What she could do as a Hunter was extremely limited and she had prepared herself as much as she could.

If this was the introduction to their end then she wanted the majority of her last memories to be about her being a wife and mother to her family.

She smiled fondly when she saw how quickly her husband fell asleep after she tucked him into their bed.

"Sleep well, my love. The day has not forsaken us yet." She placed a kiss on his forehead and laid against him, letting the nursery of his troubled heartbeat sing her to sleep.

For better or for worse.

…..

[Somewhere in Mexico]

Two elderly people, a man and a woman, sat facing each other as they discussed a very important issue under the ambient setting of a small local bar, with the cacophony of noise from the other patrons masking everything they were saying.

Of the two elders, the woman, Araya Genoveva Calavera, matriarch of the Mexican Calavera Family, held a bloodstained tarot card along with a skull indented silver bullet, and softly placed them on the table.

"I see you're really serious about raising your silver blade against one of your own – the same crimes you accuse them of. How long has it been since we last met? Fifteen , twenty years?" The man, who appeared to be even older than Araya, spoke softly like how an elderly grandfather would speak to little children.

"Know this, Araya Genoveva, that should you resolve to pick up this blood debt, the Seat bearing the mark of Calavera will be removed from the Seat of Elders. And should the Calavera remain standing after the blood debt has been paid, it will face heavy sanctions along with the Seat of the Calavera only allowed its former position at the Seat of Elders after 100 years. Knowing this, do you, Araya Genoveva Calavera, still seek to repay blood with blood against the Ancient Family of Argents?"

"Thus saith I, blood in blood shall this debt be paid." She replied without any hint of emotion on her face, being neither warm nor cold.

The man shook his head and sighed tiredly. "I, Alexander Fandrin Van Helsing, bear witness to this petition for blood." He took the card and bullet and deposited them inside his pockets.

"Now that the tiring stuff is out of the way, tell me Araya, why are you really going after Argent?" He asked offhandedly. Even if Araya, as old as she was, wanted to remain silent, she couldn't because even she would have to call the jovial old man sitting across from her her elder.

"I know you, Alaya. Even if you lost your son, you won't take such drastic actions, not under the name of Calavera. So, intrigue me."

"A Bloodborn has emerged—"

"Ah yes, the Bloodborn. I've heard quite a bit about this young vampire. Fending off the Demon Wolf along with Hale and Satomi Ito was quite something to hear about… but that is not the reason, my dear."

Alaya glanced at the table between them and then back to the face of the old man with smiles for eyes.

"Argent has allied with the Forsaken One. And not only with it, but also with the Hale Pack and the Buddhist Pack. His daughter was possessed by a Nogitsune and instead of killing her and warding off the chaotic spirit for another century, he agreed to turn his daughter into a vampire; an Argent willingly siring a Forsaken. And from what I know, the vampire has bonded intimately with a werebeast, a werecoyote. I am nipping a calamity in the bud since Argent has forgotten their code."

Alexander smiled after hearing Alaya's words and slowly stood up. "Quite a nice little exposé you've got there. Yes, now I can see what you really want. At least you fashioned your ambition under a justified guise."

He straightened out his suit, picked up his walking stick and adjusted his hat.

"A little knowledge to you, Alaya. From a senior to a junior; there's a reason why we let nature run its course. If you try impeding it in any way , regardless of your intentions, you will end up drawing nature's ire. It's extremely fickle that way."

At this point, all the patrons in the bar had gone silent and were now standing at the door, forming a path for the elder to walk through.

"As for the Argent, there's a reason why they are one of the remaining Ancient Hunting Families. Goodbye, Matriarch Calavera. Hope we never meet again, except at my funeral."

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