The Secrets of Lore Seymour

56. Seren's Only Family

If Lore was bothered by my sudden departure and obvious avoidance, he makes no mention of it. By the time he arrives in our room, I'm already laying in bed. He doesn't attempt to wake me. In fact, he's oddly silent, trying to get into his own bed without making a fuss. In a way, I'm grateful. In another, I wish he wouldn't be considerate. Wake me. Tell me I'm a mess. Ask if I'm alright. Tease me like you always do. Something to ease this constant anxiety.

Sleep doesn't grant me any release either. I dream of Lore, the two of us dancing without a care. He smiles at me, like he did earlier. He rests his forehead against mine. I feel his lips and want another, then I wake up in a cold sweat.

Lore sleeps on the bed across from me, oblivious to what he has caused; disruption. Disruption of my life and all I've ever known.

So when morning comes, I'm desperate to escape, although the form at which the Holy Mothers provided is not what I had hoped...

Lore awakes with a start from the loud ruckus outside our door. I'm half dressed in my robes, having done so quietly in hopes not to wake him and hear his complaints about my attire. These robes make me feel safe, protected from the outside world. I had hoped wearing them would ease me, but that momentary comfort vanishes as the noises grow louder outside. There's even a terrified scream.

I hurry out the door in search of the commotion. Some people stand within the hall, hugging one another. Others dash through the halls in the direction of the lounge. When I arrive, there's a crowd formed around the dance floor; the one Lore and I were at last night.

"Excuse me," I say, gently nudging my way through the crowd. People step away easily, allowing me to see what has caused the horror. At the center of the dance floor, a priestess lays dead, drained entirely of blood. Golden nails, like those from a railroad, impale her palms and feet. She's sprawled atop the Red Moon's symbol; a horizontal, red crescent moon impaled by a golden sword. The perpetrator wrote a message beside her; Another will follow. Soon.

"Not trying to hide themselves, are they?" Lore asks, appearing beside me.

"No, they are not, unless this is another trying to make the Red Moon seem at fault," I reply, somewhat hating how relaxed I am. This is my element. I know what to do, so I break away from the crowd to speak with what I perceive to be the captain. She wears a uniform slightly different from the others, medals adorning her vest.

"Are you the captain?" I inquire.

She faces me, frustrated until she notices who, or rather what I am.

"Paladin, what an honor, though I wish this to be under better circumstances," she whispers, pressing a hand over her chest where I imagine the Holy Mother's necklace lies. "Yes, I am Captain Reggie. I am relieved that you're here. I had just requested a log of visitors in case there were other members of the church on board."

"Good, we have to find them and warm them. It's likely that will be the next target," I reply.

Reggie's gaze turns to Lore behind me.

"This is Lord Lore Seymour of Silra," I introduce him, causing Reggie to bow her head in respect.

"If you would be alright with it, I want to help," I add, glancing at the priestess who's expression of fear remains frozen on her face. She peers heavenward, eyes dull and mouth agape in terror. I've long forgotten how many others I've seen in such a state, those I lost during vampire rebellions or a vampire high on blood lust. One minute you're speaking to someone, and the next you'll never hear them again.

"We would be honored to have your assistance," she replies, then frowns. "But what if you are the next target?"

"That's unlikely," Lore interjects. "I bought our tickets under my name and Seren came dressed as a lord. Seeing as this had to have been planned for them to kill her, bring the body here, and set this up without being caught, I doubt they knew a paladin was on board, otherwise this plan would have been postponed."