Winged Dagger

Threats To Life

Arthur led me into the empty drawing room, where a chess board sat in the center of the table. Offering me the seat at the white pieces, he took the opposite couch, gesturing for me to start.

Needless to say, ten minutes later, I lost big time. I sighed as Arthur picked up my king and twirled it around his fingers, his figure as relaxed as it was the whole game.

"Go on. You win," I said, sitting back.

"Well then. What should I ask you to do?" An uneasy silence for me, but an amusing one for him stretched. The smile on his face had me thinking the worst. "Would you assist me with my work?"

I stared. "That's all?"

His smile was pure mischief. "What's this? Was that disappointment I heard?"

I had half a mind to throw the queen at him.

"I'd be glad to help, but you could've just asked. Why go through this much trouble?"

"I just wanted to play a game with you," he said, setting the king down on the board again. "You held out much longer than Newt."

I nodded, deciding to pretend I understood what he was thinking. "And what assistance do you require?"

"I'm glad you asked." Gesturing to me, he got up and headed down the hall. I followed him into the library, where books lined the walls all the way to the ceiling. The floor was carpeted, bringing with it a sense of home.

"I need some books on poison, but it's rather tedious to search alone."

I pulled up my sleeves. "Well then, let's get started." Heading through the aisles, I looked through the titles of books, missing Arthur's soft smile. "Is this for another Holmes' story?" I asked, wondering if I were walking on eggshells. Theo had once told me not to mention Sherlock to Arthur.

"Why do you look so worried?"

"I was told not to mention that name in your presence," I said nonchalantly. I took a look at Arthur's amused smile. "I didn't ask them why, but I do have a vague idea."

"Oh?" He gestured for me to continue.

I pulled myself up the ladder and took a seat on it. I held up a finger. "First, it's common knowledge that Sir Arthur Conan Doyle attempted to murder Sherlock Holmes, but the backlash was so great that he had no choice but to continue writing." I held up a second finger. "From this, I can see that you either hated writing Sherlock, or you hated Sherlock."

"You're bright."

"So I've heard." I pulled a book off the shelf and handed it to him, which he casually flipped through. "You and Holmes are similar, I wouldn't deny that. But you're not the same. He's a character in a book, loved by many, and you are the author, someone who is loved by many more, perhaps because of a creation that stood out, but loved nonetheless."

Arthur laughed. "I would say more people knew Holmes than they did me. I received more letters addressed to him than me."

"That would have been confusing for you and entertaining for a third person," I said, tilting my head. I hopped down the ladder, Arthur seeming ready to catch me should I fall. "So why did you continue writing?"

"Because Holmes is a literal gold mine," said Arthur, mirth written on his face.

"Has anyone ever told you you're horrible?"

"But I'm the nicest, kindest person ever," he said, with a look of a wounded puppy. His eyes told a different story though.

I coughed as I pulled another book off the shelf and headed to the desk. "Dear lord."

Arthur and I sat at the table, reading. It took me a while to realize that he didn't ask for anything else, and it took me a while longer to realize that he had brought me here to keep me busy. I peered at him over the book, and he smiled as he turned a page. "Are you finally falling for me?"

"As if," I scoffed and continued reading.

At nightfall, I bade him a good night as I headed back to my room. The hairs on my arm rose as I turned on the light, sensing something was wrong. Asura walked in as well. I looked around the room for something out of place, searching for the source of my discomfort. My eyes landed on a piece of paper at the desk, a piece of paper I hadn't left there. A gentle breeze showed me the window had been left open. Asura hopped onto the desk, and I opened the paper, as we read words that chilled me to the bones.

This mansion and her residents will be lost. And then, so will you.

Asura hissed as I dropped the paper. My hands shook badly as I attempted to grip thoughts and facts as they slid away from me faster and faster. It must have been the murderer, but why scare me instead of attacking me here? He obviously knew where I lived.

'Get it together.'

I sat down on the floor, my back against the bed. There had to be something I could remember, something that would point to a clue, to where things had gone wrong. The people in the mansion were in danger because of me. Just because they were vampires doesn't mean they couldn't die. Just because they were strong doesn't mean they couldn't feel pain.

My nails dug into my arm, blood welling up and falling to the floor. My head started to hurt, taking the pain away from my hand.

'Stop it!'

I could almost feel myself going crazy, but something teased the edge of my memories. Someone died, someone on the floor, red surrounding a body.

"Cara mia!" The voice came from behind the door, and the words made it easy to know who stood there. I didn't get up, but Asura did as the door shook, almost as if someone was trying to break in. The memories and madness faded, leaving a light tingling in my arm, and exhaustion at having to fight my own head.

Asura managed to unlock the door, a feat I have yet to understand. Leonardo walked in to see me on the floor, and he pried my hand away, watching the blood fall to the floor. "Cara mia, what's wrong?"

Asura walked over to him with the letter in his mouth, and Leonardo's gentle smile hardened as he read it. "So you're attempting to force yourself to remember." He said it with a certainty that left no room for denial.

He pulled me up and Asura hopped onto the bed, perhaps deciding to sleep there for the night. Leonardo held up the letter. "I'll get this to le Comte, meanwhile..." His grip was gentle as he dragged me through the hall to another familiar door. "You'd do better not to be alone tonight."

"A midnight snack?" asked Arthur as he opened the door. One look at me and my bloodstained dress and he sidestepped, allowing Leonardo and me to enter. "Sebastian!"

Leonardo led me to the bed, and Sebastian appeared as if he were a demon that had been summoned. He disappeared just as quickly, and appeared again, bandages in hand.

"Sir Arthur," he said as he handed them to him. Leonardo tapped Arthur on the shoulder as he left, whispering something in his ear. Arthur reacted with only a raised eyebrow as he walked over to me, bandaging the injury.

"Better?" he asked as he stood up. I nodded, and Arthur pushed me back into the bed, a hand over my eyes. "Then sleep. We'll talk in the morning."

I didn't stay awake long enough to feel his hand move away.

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