Eternal Night

(I) Chapter 12: Pushing Buttons

One Week Later

It was around 4:30 in the afternoon when Frankie finally arrived back home, admittedly sluggish from being up in the daylight hours when she should have been resting. But it had been a sacrifice well worth making. Placing her keys on the table near the entry, she gently nudged the door shut with her foot before making her way into the living area, absently running her fingers through her hair and tugging the roots as if it would help her focus.

It had been a long seven days.

Seven days of adjusting to two extra persons in her living space.

Seven days of being unable to sleep properly because Vesper deforested entire continents in her sleep.

So, as consequence, she had spent the last virtually sleepless week property hunting – and on foot, no less – so she could get Carmen and Vesper out of her flat... or, rather, certain other members of the alliance who had taken to congregating in her home night after night.

Well, the walk she had taken this afternoon to combat her usual restlessness proved beneficial in more ways than one, for at last she had a light at the end of her tunnel.

Frankie placed a file folder on the top of the dining room table, offering its hidden contents a small smile of satisfaction before moving into the kitchen. She returned moments later with a mug of blood in her hand before she sat down. She was grateful her mind and body were finally allowing her to keep actual mortal blood down in place of the artificial stuff she had been living off of since her return from stasis. It wasn't fresh, which meant it wasn't as beneficial as taking it straight from the vein, but it beat feeling lethargic ninety percent of the time.

It would appear, however, that the fiasco at Carmen's a few days ago had had unforeseen benefits – like the return of her stubborn persistence and will to get better. There was this small, nagging little voice in the back of her head that wondered if Mr. Leinhart was partially responsible, but she was usually pretty quick to squash such ridiculous propositions.

With every sip, she felt more like her normal self, the small aches in her body slowly healing.

Comfortable in her seat, she began to peruse the contents of the file she had brought home, rummaging quietly through the numerous deeds, blueprints, and photos of places she had visited in the last week, all as far from the north district as was humanly possible. She had found many favorable prospects but only one in particular was perfection in her mind and she was determined to present that one to Carmen first, as soon as the woman woke up.

It was 5:00 pm when there was an unexpected knock at the door and she glanced out the tinted window in the kitchen for just a moment, noting that the sun, though still up, would begin setting soon. Wondering who could be calling at this hour, she stood and made her way over to the door, cautiously opening it to find no one there. What she did discover was a small envelope sealed with a red wax stamp on the floor addressed to F.E. Chase.

Her brow furrowed as she bent down to fetch the missive, glancing up and down the hall briefly to see if she could spot its deliverer. Seeing no one, she turned the letter over to get a look at the seal. What she saw piqued her curiosity.

The Drăculea symbol.

Upon noting the infamous dragon insignia, she habitually lifted her other hand to touch the small scar hidden beneath her blouse just above her breast – a scar which bore a near identical shape to the dragon of Dracul. She could still recall the night she had been marked, the night the prophecy had been born and her life changed forever. For decades, she had kept the mark hidden – whether via strategically placed clothing or accessories, or even the appropriation of a special kind of concealer, which had been her go-to method for well over a hundred years.