Claimed by the Prince of Darkness

As tears blurred Ruelle's vision, the green smoke that had spread around them moments ago was completely swallowed by the black smoke, leaving behind only the lingering sting in the air that pricked at her nose and throat. It took her a second to realise the old witch was gone. The doorway stood empty and the house suddenly went quiet until Peyton's voice rang from somewhere outside.

"Stop there!"

The hurried footsteps that followed grew fainter, making it obvious Peyton was chasing the witch. Ruelle instinctively turned back to Lucian, only for her face to turn pale. He calmly wiped the blood from the corner of his lips with the back of his hand as though it were nothing more than an inconvenience, yet the red staining his pale skin made her heart sink. Tears bled from the corners of his eyes.

"Lucian! Are you alright?" She crossed the distance between them almost without thinking, the question leaving her lips before she reached him.

"Master Lucian!" Claude hurried inside the house, only to stop abruptly after taking one breath. Raising a hand to cover his nose, he frowned at the lingering green haze that continued to drift through the place now.

"I am fine," Lucian answered, though another cough escaped him before he continued. "The witch filled the jars with toxins harmful to vampires. They were placed here for her protection."

"We need to take you to the physician," she whispered, hastily pulling the folded handkerchief from her pocket and her fingers trembled.

"I will be fine, Ruelle," Lucian took the handkerchief and lightly pressed the cloth beneath his eye. "The toxin will purge itself within a few minutes. Are you alright?"

Ruelle nodded immediately. He was the one who was bleeding and not her.

Lucian's gaze slowly travelled across the house as they walked further inside. "Something wasn't right about that witch. I made up the location spell and there's far too much scent of that herb."

Ruelle had picked up the overpowering scent of herbs earlier. She looked towards Lucian and asked, "Do you think she was hiding the bodies of children?"

Lucian didn't answer immediately. His gaze continued to move around the house as though following something only he could perceive. Finally, he stopped before an ordinary-looking stone wall. Resting his fingertips against the rough surface, he slowly traced along it before saying, "It's coming from here."

Ruelle's eyes followed his hand and she heard him say, "Step back and close your eyes."

She stepped back without questioning him. The next moment, Lucian swung his hand at the wall for it to crack. Dust and fragments of stone burst into the air, forcing her to shield her face until the cloud of dust gradually settled. When she opened her eyes again, part of the wall had collapsed inward, revealing a narrow passage hidden behind it.

The smell of herbs reached them immediately, which turned stronger with every cautious step they took into the darkness. Ruelle instinctively lifted her sleeve over her nose but the unmistakable stench of decay still found its way through the fabric, making her stomach tighten.

Following the sound of Lucian's steps, Ruelle moved right behind him through the darkness, until they finally stopped. After a moment, the place was lit. Every single candle and the fireplace in there brightened the room. Their eyes immediately fell upon the figure of a woman lying motionless on the ground.

But upon a closer look, Ruelle's hands turned cold at the sight of the woman's face that was peeled out. Feeling her stomach twist she looked away from it.

On the other hand, Lucian crouched beside the body, his expression remaining unreadable as he examined the dried blood pooled beneath her. He said, "She's been dead for several hours. The blood has already darkened. I would say somewhere between seven and eight hours."

Ruelle's mind immediately returned to the woman they had spoken to only moments earlier. How was that even possible?

"...then who was with us?" she asked, feeling goosebumps raise on her skin. "She... she wasn't a twin of this witch, was she?"

Lucian looked up at her from where he knelt. "No," came the answer without hesitation. "It was someone else. Someone who was using this witch."

"Is that even possible?" Ruelle struggled to comprehend what Lucian was suggesting. "The person would have to be the same height... the same build. Even the voice..." There were simply too many things that would have to change.

Her thoughts were interrupted when her eyes landed on a large iron pot resting in the corner of the chamber. She didn't want to know what was inside. Yet the uneasy feeling that had settled in her chest only grew stronger the longer she stared at it. Before she realised it, her feet had already begun carrying her towards it. She instinctively raised the edge of her sleeve to cover her nose, the smell of blood becoming more distinct with every step.

Pieces of flesh floated amongst the darkened liquid and she tried hard not to throw up right now.

Lucian came to stand beside her, his gaze dropping into the pot before he said, "It resembles… Harold's remains."

That's what she thought too...

She had wanted to believe the old woman had merely been another misunderstood witch. She had offered a glimpse of her future and had lent her books. Had all of it been a lie? But she was lying here dead now.

Then another thought struck her with such force that it almost stole the air from her lungs.

"My father..." The words caught in her throat as the realisation. "The man who came back...That wasn't really him, was it? Another witch?"

"It's difficult to say."

Lucian picked up a piece of firewood and tossed it into the hearth before breathing fire into the dying embers. Orange light spread across the narrow chamber, revealing more clearly the bloodstains that marked the stone floor. He said,

"There has never been any record of a witch possessing such an ability. The person we encountered earlier didn't feel human." His gaze shifted briefly towards the corpse lying deeper within the passage. He said, "If I had to guess, it was likely the same individual who assumed your father's appearance before we discovered his body."

Ruelle lowered her eyes.

She didn't like the sound of it. It felt as if whoever this person was, was circling around the people she came in contact with.

Something caught Lucian's attention. His gaze shifted towards the fireplace, where the flames had begun to burn steadily again, and he stepped away from Ruelle without a word. Leaning forward, he reached through the warmth and picked up two crude stick dolls that had been tucked behind the iron pot.

"Ruelle," he said, still looking at the dolls. "The days Harold Belmont spent in your new home. Did he touch you?"

The question caught her off guard.

Her eyebrows drew together as she searched her memory. After a moment, she replied,

"He never struck me." If anything, he was trying to be different. It almost felt as though he wanted to make up for everything that had happened. He wanted to be affectionate."

"Did he embrace you?" Lucian questioned her.

Ruelle nodded. She remembered how strange it had felt at the time. Curious, she asked him, "Why are you asking?"

Instead of answering, Lucian held one of the dolls out to her. Ruelle took it from him, and it was then she noticed her name on it. Ruelle Belmont.

"The other one bears my name," Lucian said, lifting the second doll slightly. "I doubt whoever made these has any connection to the courthouse. A voodoo doll requires the person's true birth name to function, and those records are kept within the treaty archives."

As he spoke, his thumb brushed over the crimson thread wound tightly around the doll's body. He explained, "This thread, it represents the one carrying out the action."

Her grip unconsciously tightened around the doll before she looked back at Lucian. She questioned,

"But what would she gain from that? I don't believe she even knew who my mother was."

Lucian remained silent as he thought about it.

The doll slipped from Ruelle's hand and landed softly on the floor. As she bent to pick it up, her fingers instinctively tugged at the strip bearing her name before pulling at the crimson thread wrapped around its body. The thought that someone had prepared something like this specifically for her... Why couldn't they leave them alone?

She was about to throw the thread into the fire when something caught her eye beyond the flames.

"What is it?" Lucian asked, noticing the way her gaze had fixed on the back of the hearth.

"There's something behind the fireplace." Ruelle narrowed her eyes, trying to make it out through the dancing flames. "It... looks like a piece of fabric."

"Let me," he said.

Lucian reached into the fire. The flames curled around his hand before he drew out a folded piece of cloth, untouched by the heat and held it where she could see it.

"These stitches, they are mine." Ruelle murmured, her thumb brushing across the familiar pattern where some of it was burned. "How did she even get her hands on it?"

Her father had never paid attention to such things. His days had revolved around gambling, drinking and finding ways to borrow more money. Megan Belmont rarely bothered herself with her things and Caroline... Caroline would have turned into a victim before she could ask for a witch's help.

"Ezekiel..." the name left Ruelle's lips. Some parts of it made sense, while the others didn't. But the longer she thought about the days with Harold Belmont, the chillier the place turned.

"I should have killed him the second time he appeared," Lucian remarked as his eyes narrowed.

Ruelle lowered her hands from her face, her thoughts refusing to settle. The woman she had sought out for answers had also crossed paths with Ezekiel. The more she uncovered, the less she understood.

"But Ezekiel was there," Ruelle said, looking up at Lucian. "He was standing right beside my father when we were at the courthouse when Caroline went missing."

Lucian didn't answer immediately. His gaze remained fixed on the dying fire as he pieced together everything they had discovered. After a long silence, he finally spoke.

"Perhaps neither of them was who we believed them to be. A double substitution. The person wearing Harold Belmont's face wasn't Harold and the one we believed to be Ezekiel wasn't Ezekiel either. If both were replaced at the same time, no one would think to question what they were seeing."

Perhaps that explained why the courthouse had not been able to find Ezekiel, thought Ruelle to herself. His face had been plastered across towns and villages for days, yet he hadn't been caught.

When they stepped away from the room, Ruelle heard hurried footsteps echo through the corridor before Peyton appeared. A strand of hair had come loose from her usually neat appearance and she bowed her head before saying,

"The witch escaped. I followed her as far as the market but her scent disappeared amongst the crowd. What would you like me to do, Mr. Slater?"

"Inform Carnifex immediately and notify the officers. Not the local officers assigned to this town as they're no longer to be trusted with information of this nature," Lucian instructed.

"Understood." Peyton nodded and was about to leave when Lucian spoke again.

"One more thing. How good are you at spreading gossip?"

The vampiress's eyebrows furrowed and she repeated, "Gossip?"

"Yes. I want word to spread that Ruelle has been turned into a vampire. Make sure another version claims she's become a halfling instead," Lucian stated, and he pressed the corners of his eyes where they continued to bleed. "You can start it before you inform Carnifex and the officers. The sooner the better."

Ruelle looked at him in surprise.

Peyton looked apprehensive about it at first but then nodded. "I will get to it right away." She turned and left the place immediately.

As they stepped out of the house, Ruelle's attention remained fixed on Lucian. Every so often, tendrils of corruption escaped from around him as if they no longer answered entirely to his will. Without thinking, she reached for his wrist. Before her fingers could wrap around it, Lucian said,

"Don't." His voice wasn't harsh, only firm enough to stop her.

Ruelle frowned and replied, "I want to help you. Whatever that witch said, Ezekiel could have been lying. Everything we've learnt today points to deception after deception. There's no reason to believe his words were any different. It will be something simple."

"Ezekiel's words might be false, your mother's cause of death cannot be invalidated. Besides, my body will return to its original state soon enough. You don't need to use your ability for this," Lucian responded as if using her ability were out of the question.

Lucian had no intention of allowing her to shorten her life for his sake. If there truly was a cost to her abilities, he would rather endure the poison a hundred times than let her sacrifice herself for it.

"I promise it won't harm me." Ruelle held his gaze, her voice softening. "You'll see. Trust me to take care of you, Lucian. The way you've always taken care of me."

Lucian didn't seem very convinced about it and she smiled at how much he cared about her. She said, "Not that anything is going to happen to me, but if something were to happen to you, I don't know what I would do." She gently led him to the garden where the plants had continued to thrive.

She asked him, "What was that about the gossip?"

Lucian's gaze shifted to look around them as if to make sure there was no one around. He responded,

"Carnifex has already removed the treaty's conditions, so the council will manage the rumours. If Ezekiel is truly behind this, he will be eager to reveal that you're a witch. But if people have already heard conflicting stories that you've become a vampire or a halfling, they'll treat the truth no differently. It will sound like just another rumour."

Her mind had been occupied with the old witch that she hadn't realised that the false person knew she was not a human anymore.

"Four seconds," Lucian said, breaking her thoughts. "For you to try, remove the toxins."

"You know... you are my first patient and I haven't tried this on anyone before," Ruelle reasoned with him. Her fingers wound themselves around his forearms and using another hand, she placed her hand on the tall tree.

Closing her eyes, Ruelle reached for the corruption that had seeped into Lucian's bloodstream. At first, she found nothing but the familiar warmth that belonged to him. But then her breath hitched when she felt the countless tiny thorns clinging to his veins and pricking at them from within. He had insisted he was fine, yet the poison was far more potent than she had imagined.

Slowly, she drew the toxins towards herself and as they entered her body, she felt a sharp sting beneath her skin. It was only for an instant before she guided it away again, letting it flow from herself into the old tree beside them. The sensation reminded her of muddy water passing through clear running water until only the murk remained behind.

Before she could finish drawing out every last trace, Lucian's voice reached her, "Ruelle. That should be enough."

She opened her eyes and noticed the black tendrils that had been slipping from around him moments earlier were gone, leaving only the usual corruption that rested quietly beneath his control. A smile spread on her lips and she said, "It worked."

Maybe if things ever went too far with Lucian's corruption, she could always use this method. The thought of having a solution made the smile on her lips broaden.

Suddenly a loud crack echoed behind her and just in time, she caught one of the tree's thick branches breaking away from the trunk before crashing onto the ground, only to disappear into a gust of dust.

"See?" Ruelle smiled, relief finding its way into her voice as she opened and closed her hand. "I told you I would be fine. This is the easiest exchange."

"Let us get you home before the officers or ministers decide to drop by," Lucian remarked, gently pulling her closer as they began to walk. Though his eyes stayed ahead, his attention was focused on her heartbeat.

Before getting on the carriage, his eyes moved to the dust that belonged to the broken branch. His expression gave little away, yet his lips pressed into a thin line.

By the time they reached the Slaters' Mansion, the afternoon sky had begun surrendering to evening. The carriage had barely come to a halt when the entrance doors were opened. Warmth spilled out into the cool evening air.

"Welcome back, Master Lucian and Miss Ruelle," Maude greeted them, her eyes lingering for only a fraction longer on Lucian's shirt that had spots of blood before she stepped forward to take their coats.

Lucian removed his gloves one finger at a time before handing them over. "How have things been here?" he asked.

"Mr. Hawksley has been in his room and missed lunch. Mrs. Belmont has remained in her room throughout the day. She appears rather fatigued from the fever," Maude answered as she folded the gloves neatly over one arm. "Miss Caroline stayed with her in the morning, though later she asked for a carriage so that she could head out for some air."

That caught Ruelle's attention and she asked, "Did she say why?"

Maude shook her head before continuing, "I reminded her it would be unwise to leave the estate alone after recent events. When I offered to accompany her, she decided against going."