Italy

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Dark Alleyway | Somewhere in Rome | 11p.m.

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The night air was cold against his skin. Jarlath let out a sigh, watching as his minty breath formed crystals in the air as it swirled up and out of sight. It was cold but it was almost like it didn’t affect the man whom was crouching on a rooftop, his eyes ever wandering towards the two banging figures in the alleyway below. For heaven’s sake, make it quick. He thought as he twirled a knife in between his fingers. Though the two figures below were Jarlath’s targets, the Cacciatori second-in-command felt as if he had no right of robbing the two of their last bit of pleasure of being pseudo-alive- though the panting was getting on the last of his nerves. Sighing, Jarlath took a swig from the beer bottle that sat right beside him on the ledge of the building roof, taking a silent gulp as a contemplative look passed his face. This brand is alright. He thought, giving the label on the glass a glance before setting it down once more. A final groan came from below as the two figures leaned oppressively against the wall, their disgusting forms twisting in the moonlight once again before settling down, shoulders heaving, bodies untwining. Now. Twirling the knife between his fingers one last time, Jarlath glared down at the two as he chose his target and let the knife fly in a deadly arc in the night air.

A dull thunk filled the alley. A choking gurgle followed suit as Jarlath jumped down from the roof, clinging onto window ledge after window ledge until he could safely land on the floor with no problem. “You fucker!” The male figure snarled, rounding on Jarlath as the female slumped onto the floor, hands clawing at her knife. “Oh, but it was just a silver knife coated with holy water, nothing more.” Jarlath responded innocently, shaking his index finger at the vampire. “Don’t be so crude with your language. Ah, yes, and seeing as we are going to fight, please avoid hitting my face.” In the middle of Jarlath’s sentence, the other vampire had already swung his clawed hand at Jarlath’s face, intent on hitting the human- but Jarlath ducked down in a speed most definitely not of a human. And yet there he was, a human to the last cell in his body.

Bending his knees, Jarlath pulled another knife from his jacket, the blade glinting in the moonlight as his smile did as he lunged at the vampire’s stomach, shoving the immortal back into the dirty wall that was the backdrop of their fight. “Tah.” Jarlath laughed as he moved along with the vampire, slamming his long knife into the vampire’s right hand with a force that pushed most of the knife- and the vampire’s hand- into the wall. Reaching into his jacket once more, Jarlath quickly grabbed another knife and stabbed the vampire’s other hand, while, with another hand, he grabbed a vial of holy water and splashed it onto the two wounds, making sure to enhance the vampire’s pain and decrease the healing speed of the other man. “So,” Jarlath said, wiping his forehead with a handkerchief he had produced out of his suit jacket, “How does it feel like to see your life passing in front of your eyes?” The only response he got was a pained snarl. “Too bad. Pass the word along that missy here will be dead very soon, okay? Say that the Cacciatori were the ones behind it.” His sentence faded into a low whisper as Jarlath glared down at his opponent, slowly digging into the man’s body more holy water coated knives making sure he wouldn’t be able to slip off anytime soon (along with a normal knife to the vampire’s throat.) “Well, then.” Jarlath said, clapping his hands together as he turned around to watch the struggling female vampire. “Did anyone tell you that it isn’t good to trust a man who’d take you out into a dark alleyway to shag you? Dangers hide in every form- and in HIV and AIDs, though your kind might not get it, right?”

A guttural noise came from the female vampire as she ripped out the knife from her delicate flesh in response, wincing at the powers of the silver and holy water against her neck. But before she knew it, another knife replaced the one she had just pulled out as two more landed straight through her heart, shoved in by Jarlath’s cruel hand. “Cac-ciat-tori!” She snarled out as her final fake breath left her already dead body. “Yes, Cacciatori. Well, then, good night.” He turned and grinned at the male vampire struggling to release himself from the wall before walking away into the darkness of the alley.

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Vitale Main House | 11:32 p.m.

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Jarlath quietly opened the door to the large hall, sighing quietly as he closed the door behind him with a loud click. “Back home so early, Master Jarlath?” A familiar voice said from his left, causing Jarlath to jump slightly as he turned his head to see the old man. His trusted butler- companion and good friend. “Arnold. Don’t scare me like that.” He muttered, shrugging his suit jacket off for the old man to hold. “Also, send some men to this address and send it to this one,” Jarlath took two notecards out of his pants pocket and handed it to the old man, “and have them finish the job that I left behind. They most likely will still be there. I changed my mind; kill the male vampire.” The old man only let out a sigh and shook his head as he took the card- and Jarlath’s coat- and walked away, presumably to find some men that would finish Jarlath’s earlier hunt.

He knew it would be done.

Pacing up the large stairs, Jarlath sighed as he looked up at the family portrait of his father, sister and the matriarch- the family portrait that lacked his own presence. But it did not matter anymore to the Cacciatori second-in-command; his own hair would have been too jarring amongst the sea of blonde. Turning, he quickly paced up the last of the stairs as he turned towards where his sister and his own study was located at, raising an eyebrow as he saw a young man- a new secretary?- knocking timidly at Annabella’s door with a bunch of files in his grip. “What are you doing?” Jarlath barked, his brow furrowing as he walked up to the boy. “I-I,” The boy stuttered as Jarlath towered over him, scared of the reputation that the second-in-command had garnered. “I’m sorry, I’m new here and I was told to bring these papers to the head-,”

“Ah, I see, you’re new boy who was supposed to come in today?” Jarlath asked, holding out his hand to take all the files from the young shivering boy whom nodded in response, obviously too scared to speak any further. “It’s okay. I’ll let this mistake slide this time; but remember that all paper work come my way, okay? Next time knock on the door on the other side of the corridor.” Smiling, Jarlath nodded at his own door as he took the papers and took his leave, patting the boy on the shoulder as he did. “Go and get some rest. You might need it in this household- you never know.” With that, Jarlath closed his door and paced across the room to his large desk that was pristine clean with but a few articles of paper. Placing the new pieces along with the old, Jarlath rounded his table and slumped down in his chair, yawning widely as he pulled off his tie and threw it across the room. It wasn’t late but Jarlath was tired. The hunt hadn’t done much to his energy levels but the lack of anything to do- or the surplus there of- caused a yawn to roll out of his mouth once again. But there was no time to waste: Jarlath had to find Annabella. Shrugging himself off of the chair once more it took all of Jarlath’s energy to not slump down onto the carpet floor but to rather walk across the room once again and turn down the hallway, quickly ascending to the third floor before coming to a stop at a large door. His knock was sharp and loud as he cleared his throat and opened his mouth.

“Annabella?”

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Dark Alleyway | Somewhere in Rome | 11:10 P.M.

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"Oh my God, I am so sorry!"

The hushed voice came from the brunette girl who immediately bent down to gather the books she had dropped onto the ground. The darkness practically swallowed the objects on the ground, and the girl seemingly dropped her glasses, her hands searching in the darkness. "No, no, it was my fault." The older man appeared to notice the girl's distress and immediately bent down to help her with her belongings. After all, he had accidentally bumped into the small shadow leaning by the wall. "Here you go." Handing the girl her glasses, the man gave her a smile which was returned graciously by the brunette. "Do you need anymore assi-" Perhaps she was lost, or perhaps she was waiting on someone, the man continued, but she immediately cut him off. "No! It's alright. I'm waiting for my father. He should be here in a moment." Reassured by her voice, the man nodded before standing up, giving the pretty girl a small bow before continuing on into the darkness.

And the young woman's gaze darkened as the steps faded into the night. That was far too close, for she had been listening intently to the conversation beyond the alleyway. Next time, no such mistakes will be made. Even so, she gracefully dodged the human's probing. No hints of doubt had been detected in his eyes.

"Did anyone tell you that it isn’t good to trust a man who’d take you out into a dark alleyway to shag you? Dangers hide in every form- and in HIV and AIDs, though your kind might not get it, right?” Picking up the books from the ground, Annabella returned to listening in on the conversation, or perhaps monologue, her brother had with the two vampires. A faint shake of the head was seen in the darkness, her dark clothing cloaking her well under the faint moonlight. As she pulled herself up from the ground, the choking sounds of the vampire hardly seemed to affect her, for she was not there for that purpose. Rather, she was there for a completely different matter. "Cac-ciat-tori!" That caught her attention, but it was the sound of one that was close to death. "Yes, Cacciatori. Well, then, good night.”

It took all her will not to step out from the faint darkness, to confront the one that she had been following since the afternoon of that day. Jarlath. Her eyes narrowed at her brother's name, for it had been so long since she last had to confront him. After all, she had spent several months in France, where the details of her job there would be unsuitable for children's ears. However, she was hardly finished before she heard the call for the meeting. Rather, she heard from one of the members that desperately attempted to inform her of Jarlath's sudden plan.

It was time to come home. As the steps of her brother faded from her range of hearing, Annabella stepped around the corner, her eyes lingering on the male vampire that Jarlath left seemingly crucified to the wall. Uncalled for. However, she was not going to bother. Even as the leader of the Cacciatori, she did not intrude on others' kills.

Soft steps, unheard by anyone except the obscure girl that turned around the corner, her head ducked slightly as she stopped by the dark car that was parked in the side of the road, out of sight. "Where to, Mademoiselle?" Her chauffeur still retained the French tongue that had been their language for the past several months, and at that, she simply smiled as she stepped into the car. "Home." At that one word, the engine started and began going down that path she remembered so clearly.

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Vitale Main House | 11:25 P.M.

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Home seemed like such an unfamiliar word. It was almost as if she had forgotten the very definition of the word, or at least, attempted to forget. Yet, the second she entered the room, the gazes that turned to her seemed unfamiliar, and some were alarming. Almost forgot.

The brunette wig was dropped onto the ground, and one of the maids, in sudden recognition, dove to pick it up after the young woman as she continued forward without a hint of hesitation in her steps. Then the gazes turned, almost immediately, into recognizing looks, as if the blonde hair itself told the servants and maids of the identity of the young woman that walked into the door so unexpectedly. Suddenly, a flurry of "Miss Vitale" and "Mistress" were heard from those that stood almost as if frozen, but now are arching their backs to greet the young woman. Though, Annabella showed no signs that she even heard those greetings, for her gaze was kept straight in front of her, her hands unbuttoning the black rain coat as she pulled it off her shoulders and onto the ground, only to be immediately picked up by the maid.

"Miss Vitale, welcome home. Would you like any refreshments? Or perhaps your clothes prepared for y-" Without a word, the door to her chambers was slammed in the maid's face, the older woman immediately shutting her mouth. She should have expected this. Without a word, a small bow was given even to the door before the woman left, leaving Annabella in the peace and quiet she desired, already pulling off the dark clothing that shielded her in the night. Leaving the pile on the ground, she pulled a maroon-colored dress from her walk-in closet, the style resembling a vintage Italian dress and with practiced motion, pulled it on with hardly any effort. All this took around five minutes, and as she heard the door opening on the first floor of the house, she had a pretty good guess who it was that just came in.

Letting loose her ash blonde hair, the young woman remained motionless against the frame of her bed for a few seconds longer, listening to the steps as they grew louder and closer to her door. Though, they were not the ones she was waiting for, and of course, as the soft knocking was heard, the young woman did not move from her position. Jarlath would take care of it.

And so he did, her gaze remained locked on the door, waiting for those footsteps to return. Of course he would know that she had came home. Somehow, he always knew.

"Annabella?" This knock was sharp, much different from the one that she had heard just a few seconds before. By then, she was already at the door, pulling open the door that had remained closed for months before she had set foot into it once again today. However, her expression was not the kindred nor jovial one she had shown him years before. The jolly disposition of that young girl was gone, replaced by the blank look that now seemed so natural upon Annabella's expressions. Her eyes rose up to meet her brother's, and not a greeting was heard.

"You left one alive." The words sounded cold, and her expression even colder as she leaned against the frame of the door. "Tell me why, Jarlath," Or perhaps she already knew why, for the message left by the member a few weeks earlier was what prompted her to return home. Yet, she needed to hear it from him.

It was odd, for Annabella had to look up to meet her brother's eyes. Though that did not seem to bother her. "The Cacciatori remains a secret organization. That's what keeps us safe. Yet, to be so reckless." The last word was breathed out, destroying the cold and nonchalant tone she had been trying to keep. After all, she can never keep it around Jarlath. Thus, she instead pushed past him, holding up the front of her dress as she turned toward the stairs. Then stopping. Turning, her eyes once again caught the familiar look of her brother's. He had hardly changed through the months, still so familiar to her sight. At that, a small sigh was released, almost as if she had been holding that breath ever since she had opened the door.

"It's good to see you again, brother."

&

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Vitale Main House 11:40 P.M.

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Jarlath sighed as he walked over and wrapped his arms around Annabella, pulling her into a warm embrace he knew he owed her everytime she came back from one of her self-given missions. Truth be told, Jarlath would have rather not let Annabella step out of the mansion at all, keep her locked up behind the safeties of the Vitale Mansion walls- but the girl would never have agreed. It had seemed as if she could read Jarlath's mind as he had sat her down to propose the idea of her not putting herself in danger. The answer had been an immediate no before Jarlath could even open his mouth. Though it pained him and worried him endlessly, Jarlath had made a life promise to Annabella's father- his own father- that he would respect all of her choices and keep her safe. Jarlath knew that Annabella probably already knew that he sent his best spies each and every time she went off on her little missions, making sure that they made everything much more smooth and much less dangerous. That was all he could do when he was miles away from the reckless girl. Jarlath was left with the ability to only give Annabella a hug everytime she came back, checking if she was safe, making sure that everything was fine. It was more of a self-reassurance than anything else; Annabella was Jarlath's last link to the world that he currently lived. She was the only piece of sanity he felt was left in the world of the Cacciatori. "I have missed you, Annabella." He muttered, his chin on the top of her head as he patted her back with one hand, the other on the back of her head. "And we need to talk about some issues. That's why I have come to talk to you."

If it had been up to her, the hug would have ended a lot sooner. After months of being away from home, any physical contact had been strictly on business terms. The sudden closeness was anything but comfortable, despite the fact that the young girl had once been so used to and so fond of such nostalgic moments. Yet, at this moment, her gaze held none of the sentiments it once showed. If she had learned anything in France, it was that these moments are the links that could one day destroy her. Yet, as much as she wanted to, and as insistently as she was to remain away from Italy, from the one link that could ultimately be her fall, Annabella could not find herself breaking away from her brother. Thus, without so much as a movement in her motionless limbs, the girl remained still. "I have heard," The tone of her words did not reflect the complexity that ran through her mind, merely icy words that she used with her fellow members. "And the answer is no." Eyes glancing up only to meet the nape of his throat, something that seemed so vulnerable against those creatures that stalk the night. How frail the human life was. And how unready she was at losing or even endangering the one life that stood in front of her.

Jarlath narrowed his eyes at her reply, his grip on her tightening as he kept his lock around her. "Why?" He hissed out through clenched teeth, turning his head slightly so that his mouth was against her head, the fragrance of soft lillys entering his nostrils. "It is time, Annabella, why do you refuse to see it?" While the sudden increase in the tension he placed on her was noticed, the young woman remained as rigid as always. After all, it did not bother her. Instead, Annabella closed her eyes, locking her jaws just the same way as she did as a child, the one that symbolized that there was no talking her out of her decision. "You refuse to see sense, Jarlath," She would never admit her wrong, but at the moment, she could hardly see where he was coming from. After all, all she got was intelligence from the mouth of a fellow member, and she learned enough than to trust the words of others. "The clandestine operations protect us. For generations, it had served as our shield. Break it, and you will leave us in ruins." But her response only garnered an annoyed growl from Jarlath as he glared at a maid that had stumbled into the main hallway from one of the smaller halls. At the sight of the two siblings stuck in an embrace, the maid blushed a deep red and quickly rushed back into the corridor she had come from, the rumors of the more than special relationship between the siblings repeating again and again in her mind.

But Jarlath paid her absolutely no attention as he started to loosen his grip, his lower hand once again growing gentle as he felt the usual cues of stubbornness showing in her actions. "Annabella. We are strong enough- the coven and the werewolves have grown senile over time." He stroked his hand through her hair as he had done when she was younger, placing his cheek on her head as he did so. "We have grown in numbers, money and power. It is not as if the Cacciatori name has not been known by the world already- and if you are still worrying about the vampire from earlier I have already sent men to kill him. Skilled men. You need not worry."

Yet, just as his grip began to loosen, the young woman took the chance to make her point. "Perhaps," Not a hint of change was heard in her tone, the seemingly genuine consideration was made far too real by the natural-born actress. "Or perhaps not." This tone was much deeper, her hand moving toward the center of his chest before pushing back, the previous consideration only created to coax him into lowering his guard. Jarlath lifted his head and allowed her to push herself away, letting his hands fall back to his side once again. Then again, she did not expect him to have his guard raised in the first place. The movement was quick, far quicker than that of a human, for the next second she stepped forward, and rather than moving away, she held him close to the pristine white walls of the mansion. Jarlath made no attempt to resist her as he felt his back hit the wall behind him, a sigh exiting him as he looked directly down into Annabella's eyes. "Young members, both skilled and unskilled. Older members, those that are beginning to turn frail with age, because, brother, we are not immortal. We live and we die, but we die for a cause." She did not loosen her grip, the force of her hand far stronger than any he would use on her. "Believe what you want, but until you can prove so, take care with what you say."

His sigh echoed throughout the hallway once more as Jarlath looked down at Annabella, trying to calm the tumultous anger that was on the edge of spilling out. "I have yet to grow senile, Annabella. I know what I say with a clarity that I can assure you I still have." He snapped, moving his hands so that Annabella was gently pushed back away from him once again. Like him, she made no resistance at taking a step back away from him. The scene reminded Jarlath of so many memories that the two had shared back at his mansion beside the large lake, with no company besides the two of them with one another. He had braided her hair, made her food, watched over Annabella as she had slowly grown up into a fine young woman. A fine young woman with stubbornness issues. Jarlath huffed as he sighed once again. But what else can I expect from a Vitale. And rather than relenting, the blonde girl continued. "No, but you have grown ambitious," Raising her eyebrow ever so slightly, Annabella allowed that small, meek smile grow on the corner of her lips. "And crankier. Shall we always fight fire with fire, Jarlath?" Her sudden action had been brought on from the fire she could detect within the depths of his eyes. As patient as he can be with her, such fiery ambition and anger would be hard to disguise.

Turning from him, the young woman declared herself implicitly victorious, her hand lifting the hem of the dress slightly as she started down the familiar staircase. "Maybe you should be let out of the house more, rather than stare down those dull paperworks. Join me in Paris, you would be surprised what hides there." Her words implied far more than what they seemed, and the playful glance she had hid underneath that business countenance in the beginning was just now showing through those bright irises. But Jarlath only shook his head as he followed his little sister, a small smile tugging on the sides of his mouth as he descended the large stairs. "On the contrary- I have a good view on the entirety of the Cacciatori from every member to every single coin that flows through our bank account. I hope that our young Leader knows this as well?" Chuckling, Jarlath allowed his own long strides match Annabella's as he wrapped an arm around her waist, placing a light kiss on her head as their usual normal, laid-back air was back once more. "Oh, yes. A new restaurant opened up down the street. It's pretty good- let's go there for some late dinner." Waving his hand dismissively at the butler as they descended down into the lobby, Jarlath reached for the two coats that were offered and draped one around Annabella's shoulders as the large doors opened to reveal the cold night outside.