The night sky was clear and air was cool and crisp. The moon shone brightly as the Lycans howled in the distance. Ivy and ferns grew through the crevices of the old winding stone path, which led directly to the colossal vintage structure. The mansion loomed proudly behind creaky iron gates, flanked by rows of venerable trees; their old branches creaked and moaned at being disturbed by the firm gentle breeze which carried on coercing them. The moonlight, partially obscured by the moving silhouettes of clouds, created shadows that danced and slid across the landscape. The light that filtered through, peacefully illuminated the mansion.

Nazmyr carefully inspected the gate before opening it and crossed the threshold into the courtyard. Clinging to the shadows, he silently traversed the old winding stone path that led to the mansion. The soft warm glow of lantern light marked the location of the front door. He did not need to knock, as the sturdy oak door opened for him at his approach.

Camille was there to greet him, smiling a silver grin, her fangs only just exposed. She wore a long black silk dress with red accents, close fitting to her form with a long slit up the right side that exposed her skin near up to her hip.

Nazmyr passed an eye over his hostess as he passed through the entry way into grand rectangular foyer. Her skin looked whiter than he recalled. Her hair was still the color of jet and her eyes were still green as emeralds. She was still beautiful.

Camille moved toward Nazmyr with elegance and grace. She was a half step away as she reached out gently traced the outline of his face down past his jaw allowing her fingers to graze the left side of his throat. She quietly mouthed, “Uvazheniye vash Gospozha.”

Nazmyr could feel the wound that had long ago healed begin to throb, the pain fresh as the day he had been bitten. He took a deep breath watching as the droplets of blood that he had felt trickle from the mark was wiped from his throat by Camille’s fingers. She brought her hand to her mouth as she slowly walked in a circle around Nazmyr who didn’t move.

“I am quite pleased with you Nazmyr. You have proven quite valuable.” she said with pure delight in her voice. If the reports I’ve received from Jade hold true, the profit from my Yin Fen distribution has tripled thanks to the success of our ‘Fight Club’ in Rilauven.

“Your elation inspires me my lady.” Nazmyr said trying to ignore the throbbing pain in his throat.

“I would like to make an additional feature to our parimutuel business I call it Tzameti.”

“You chose the Sanguinary word for roulette?”

“In honor of you my lady.”

“There is nothing new or exciting about roulette.” Camille said dryly.

“Ah! But there is! Players will choose a slave, prisoner, volunteer, what have you, as a game piece. The game pieces will be placed in a circle and point a firearm at the back of the head of the person in front of them. After a few rounds, the sole survivor will be the victor. It’s a marvelous way to get more out of a worthless or otherwise unwanted slave or prisoner.”

Camille grinned in approval. “You are a skilled entrepreneur….I wonder if you are equally skilled elsewhere.” She said coyly as she completed her slow walk around him.

“What would you have me do?”

Camille made her way to a overstuffed couch As she sat the open aperture of the garment fell softly to the side. She shifted slightly allowing the cling of the silk to tighten above her waist. She looked Nazmyr in the eye pressing the tip of her tongue against her right fang.

“Anything I ask.”