Post by Dacian on May 15, 2011 14:18:43 GMT 1
| [atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=background,http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v36/Tigeress/Random/postscripts/daci.png][bg=000000][atrb=style,background-position: top; background-repeat: no-repeat; padding: 220px 65px 65px 65px;]Dacian had mixed feelings about this. Spending the next score of decades with an unpredictably explosive man whose every whim he had to serve sounded close to torture. Beat being dead though. Inhaling deeply of car seat leather and coven guards, Dacian was just happy to be alive. It was quite a turn for the books; the usually cantankerous vampire sitting placidly while surrounded by watchful guards. He’d been fed constantly for the last fortnight, and had regained his usual form. His cheeks were no longer sallow, and the only hint of corpse about him was the lack of heartbeat. Of course he hadn’t come through his ordeal – a solid month of starvation – with nary a mark to show for it. He was still a little stiff at the joints from being trussed up, and his wrists were still held by the brutal forearm-piercing shackles. While physically the trauma would not be lasting, mentally was another matter. He could hardly control himself when presented with fresh blood, and he felt hungry almost constantly. It was too soon to tell, but it was likely the vampire would be craving more blood than he needed for some time to come. Presently though he was in a pleasant enough mood, with a full stomach and the knowledge that he’d be out from under the coven’s watching gaze within the hour. Almost pleasant enough to ponder on why Silas had claimed his wergild in servitude rather than blood. He’d had plenty of time to think about it while he started his recovery, but the best he could come up with was to mess with him. Dacian could only fathom that the man would have to go to the trouble of finding someone else’s life to ruin if he snuffed it. Sighing, Dacian stretched his legs and peered out of the tinted windows. He was starting to recognise the scenery. The whole journey would have been much easier if Silas had consented to let the coven use the floo network to enter his home, but the wizard was disinclined to invite more vampires than necessary into his home. Dacian smiled to himself. No mystery there. The covenmobile rounded the corner into the wizard’s stately street and pulled up outside the gate. Dacian was ushered out and lead down the pathed walkway to the grand front doors of the house. A rustle of feathers drew Dacian’s attention to a nearby statue. Atop it sat a rather large bird, talons scraping the stone it perched on. The vampire smirked and made a low growl in his throat, causing the owl to shuffle his wings and look mildly perturbed. Damn right too, if he knew what happened to his predecessor. The guards pushed Dacian onward and the prisoner acquiesced. Despite his predicament, the vampire seemed disproportionately happy. A new lease of life would do that to a man, undead or otherwise. One of the guards – a man named Caleb – stepped up to the door and on finding no knocker or bell pull, rapped on the door and stepped back just as it opened. Dacian’s attention snapped from the moonlit garden to the figure that stood in the doorway. Picking up on the sudden tension, the remaining three guards stationed around him tightened their hold. Caleb glanced back over his shoulder and back to Silas with a half smile, “Ding dong, special delivery.” |
