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The night guards bowed when he walked in the humongous building.

They didn't try to engage him in any conversation because they could see the red flags on their young master. He  seemed more distraught than usual.

Over the edge.. . .

One slight push and he would kill.

Damien pushed back his jet black hair angrily, the deep blue eyes troubled. He didn't even bother using his power to reach the office in one blink of the eye. Instead he was. . . walking.

Making her wait.

If she was going to pull him in without his consent then he was going to do everything to irk her. But knowing her, it was hard to do just that.

It was hard to put frowns on her forehead.

The blood castle was the same the last time he remembered. Only he knew why it was called that.The castle served more like an office , a running body of government than a castle . The grand building was a sight to behold . The marble having a tinge of red to it as if speaking of it's residents. The enormous fountain , the oak doors welcoming everyone. .upon entering everyone could see the framed pictures of the royal family. One generation after the other.

Treaties, conventions , laws. .every important document was right on the wall for everyone to see.

Vampire workers were rushing in and out of the building, no one dared cross his path or tried to talk to him. Everyone kept a wary eye on his frame.

Everyone knew better .

The young man was . . unpredictable.

Unreachable.

Unreadable.

As he reached her office , he didn't bother knocking on the black door. Nor did the secretary sitting outside tried to tell him to do so. In fact she acted as if he wasn't here. Tapping away on her laptop nervously.

But the slight blush on her face was giving away her uneasiness

No matter how he put fear in others, he still couldn't get over it. The feeling of making people feel unstable. .the want to run towards him and then run away from him.

He made everyone run away from him except her, he grimaced visibly.

Entering the office , he shut the door behind him.

The woman occupying the chair behind the mahogany table lifted her eyes from the documents in front of her. The hair as black as her opponent. The eyes as blue as him. She was beautiful , the kind of beauty that demanded instant respect. Staring at him, she closed the file .

"What do you want?" He asked ,more like snapped. Annoyance underlying his voice.

And she clasped her hands together , tucking her chin on top. Looking at the handsome man standing with a slight glare , his hand in the jeans pocket . .the black button down shirt contrasting against his pale skin. Anyone with eyes could see the beauty he hold was unbearable and that wasn't even half of what he had.

"I'm hearing strange things , Damien." She said as she watched him walk towards the big French windows that overlooked the beautiful garden of the building.

"About what?" The moonlight was hitting on his face making him look even more ethereal.

Sighing, she stood up . . pushing the chair back and standing up in one swift movement . In the blink of an eye she was standing right beside him. . looking out of the window.

"About strange tales of priests being burned alive. Throats slit, left to bleed out to death. " She said calmly.

"What's that got to do with me?" He shrugged carelessly.

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