Chapter One

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It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a vampire in possession of blood, must be in want of more blood. Never has this fact been more known, then the recent attack at Maison Manor, where a whole household was devoured by a single ageless. He turned out to be a traveler from the west, turned without a mentor the poor man wandered aimlessly for weeks before happening upon the household.

He made their ends quick. Or so the story goes.

High society, upon hearing of this ghastly venture, made quick work to dispose of the leach and all his accompanying carnage.

No one can quite recall what happened eight years ago. The only thing we know for sure is that it started in London. That a Duke, meeting with her majesty, refused his cup of tea, and not to offend her highness, offered her, his teeth. Sharp as daggers, he requested quite politely a small cup of blood.

"Any blood will do, pigs blood if you have it. Of course, I prefer humans, but that seems indecent to request at present."

Her Majesty fainted at the sight, but within a week she made the shift. In suit it trickled down out of London and into lavish estates of Barons and Viscounts. Within the year, all of proper society was nocturnal.

It became customary for women of age to wed, to court a vampiric noble. And thus upon their wedding, she and her family would rise to join the ranks of the ageless.

Now to introduce our protagonists, the former, now fallen Bennet family. Unturned in the first wave of aristocrats, they now linger on the edge of proper society, hoping to secure a match and assure their rise.

But not all the Bennet's are keen on this plan. Particularly one, Elizabeth Bennet. But you already know that and I am getting ahead of myself.

Our story begins in Pemberley. With a Mr. Darcy, who received a letter possessing a strange inquiry some time last week. It puzzled him greatly as he pulled at the ink stamp and it gave way to a blood soaked note. The stench was revolting and for a moment, the decorum Mr. Darcy prided himself upon slipped, as his fangs loosed from his gums. They poked against his lips and pricked silver droplets down his chin. If someone had seen, they would have watched his blue eyes blow in the moonlight and his veins bulge against his skin.

But as soon as it arrived, it vanished, mixing with the calming scent of lavender and jade. His fangs retreated and breath pulled into his lunges. He smoothed his black hair back, his fingers trembling a light line of uncertainty. He had come across an inquiry or two before, some of the most unsettling nature. Boasting of hunts and witches and unclean things. Things he both loathed and enjoyed as it did away with his time and kept his mind from wandering two far to things he wished to forget.

It has been nearly a full week since then. Since the words on the page once read sent a chill in the air. Perhaps it was the location. Or perhaps it was the blood. But he vowed when he read it, that he would handle this matter personally. Now as he faces the manor house, blood painting a cruel glow across the sky, he fails to think of any pleasantries and he brings a fist up to knock upon the door.

                                                                                        *

A nock as loud as thunder echoes through the desolate hallways of Netherfield Park. For as long as she can remember, Natalia Sinclair has not thought of herself as a brave person. Being a woman and all, she always thought of herself as something of a scholar, perhaps a poet. But brave, no, such a word has never echoed in her mind. Not as it does now, as her heart echoes the thunder and her hands shake the rosary in her fist.

Be brave, She begs herself as light footsteps echo from down the hall.

Be brave, She thinks and she wishes she could scream it to the heavens. Perhaps then, something would hear and give that feeling she most desperately seeks. Perhaps the knocking will prove to be something more than just another sound to add to the horror.

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