Alistair de Soirs
As Shaylee and the vampire were walking deeper into the blooming forest, the angel, Adonael, suddenly got up, spread his broad black wings, and took flight. Alistair watched while the pair of black wings disappeared passed the border of green trees lining Shaylee’s forest and into the snowy drift of the New Zealand wilderness.
Alistair looked towards Shaylee. ”I didn’t make him mad, did I?” he said half jokingly, half seriously. He really hadn’t meant to pry, but curiosity, he supposed, was something that seized him relentlessly. It was something to be expected, however, for the vampire never really had a chance to grow out of it. He paused for a moment, not speaking so that he wasn’t talking up the faery’s ear. But after a while, he asked, ”So Shaylee. What other supernaturals live in the area?” Alistair was still concerned about just how concentrated the area was with his kind. The last time he was in an area so concentrated with supernaturals, he found his master and himself running away from a crew of hunters, bred from the Paris Syndicate. Though the hunters seemed to be no match for his master, much less a match for both his master and Alistair himself put together, there was one hunter the two did fear running in to, one that the older vampire knew from his younger vampire days in Germany.
”He no longer should be around,” Alistair remembered his master saying, ”But that same vampire hunter, the one I used to hear about from the legends the townspeople spread in Germany, has somehow managed to stay alive or something.”
”How do you know?
”I’ve heard from the Brotherhood that killings similar to the style of this old hunter have started sprouting up in areas leading up to and in New Zealand," said the old, Anglo-Saxon vampire to Alistair, "But when I talked to a friend of mine in Germany, he told me that to say the killings were just similar to those of that supposedly dead hunter, would be an understatement,” a few seconds, suspended in the tense, French air, elapsed before his master finished by saying, ”I wouldn’t be caught dead going to a place like that. New Zealand is a place that is off limits. We could travel the whole world, but New Zealand is not an option, okay?”
”Sure.”
Suddenly, while inwardly reflecting over his old memories, Alistair realized he had been staring intensely at the ground while totally missing what Shaylee had just said. He didn’t want to be rude and admit that he had totally blanked out for the past few minutes, but he was still interested in hearing her answer. ”Sorry,” Alistair said, reverently towards the faery, “but could you please say that again?”