The victory at the racetrack had left a fragile warmth between Lucy and Luna, a thaw in the glacial silence of years. They walked back towards the Academy district, not quite hand-in-hand, but with a shared space that no longer felt charged with hostility. The cheers of the crowd were fading, replaced by the evening sounds of Hexian.
"You still live in the dorms?" Lucy asked, her voice careful.
"Yes"
"You're staying at the Bloodmoon estate in the city?"
"Temporarily. Edward insisted." Lucy's lips tightened at the name. "It's less a home and more a… gilded office for his dealings."
As they turned a corner onto a quieter, wealthier street lined with glowing lampposts, a familiar figure hurried towards them. It was Emma, her maid's uniform immaculate but her eyes wide with a residual fear she couldn't quite mask.
"Miss Lucy! There you are. I was… I was hoping to find you." Emma's gaze flickered to Luna, and a flicker of surprise, then recognition, crossed her face.
"Emma,"
"Master Edward was asking after you, Miss Lucy. He seemed… pleased with the recent Bloodstone shipment's arrival. The Tahara Church representatives were furious about last second decision."
Lucy's crimson eyes turned cold. "Of course they were. But higher payers are always a priority ." She looked at Emma's carefully neutral face, at the way her hands clenched slightly at her sides. "Let's not talk business in the street. I'm famished. Luna, join us. There's a place up ahead that caters to our… particular tastes."
The restaurant, *The Crimson Gilded Lily*, was a testament to vampiric aristocracy. Dark mahogany, velvet drapes, and crystal chandeliers that cast a soft, rosy light. The air was perfumed with rare incense, barely masking the underlying metallic scent that was both enticing and unsettling. Patrons spoke in hushed tones, their fine clothes and pale complexions marking their status.
They were seated at a secluded booth. Lucy ordered a bottle of 'Vintage 97' – a famously potent and expensive blood-wine – and a platter of rare meats for Luna and herself. Emma stood politely to the side until Lucy gestured sharply for her to sit.
Lucy began, pouring the deep crimson wine into crystal glasses.
Luna took a sip of the blood-wine. It was rich, complex, and powerful, a far cry from the desperate sustenance she'd found in the forest or even the bottled blood from Victor. "It's smoother than Nox's," she mused aloud without thinking.
Lucy paused, glass halfway to her lips. "Nox?"
"My… friend. The cursed elf. His blood has a… cinnamon note. Quite unique."
A strange, almost imperceptible emotion flashed in Lucy's eyes—curiosity mixed with something darker. "Is that so?" She set her glass down. "Emma."
"Yes, Miss Lucy?"
"Give Luna your wrist."
Emma paled further but didn't hesitate. She rolled up her sleeve, revealing a pale forearm with faint, faded scars among newer, pink lines. Without ceremony, Lucy took a ceremonial silver pin from her hair and made a quick, precise incision. The blood welled up, dark and promising.
"Taste it," Lucy said to Luna, her voice low. "Emma's blood rich and deeper than any other blood bag. Compare it to your cinnamon elf, and to this," she swirled her wine.
Hesitant, Luna leaned forward and took Emma's blood filled empty wine glasses. The blood was rich, laced with the subtle flavor of mortal life—a hint of herb, a touch of fatigue, and the unmistakable, iron-clad tang of subservience. It was nourishing but carried a bitter aftertaste of resignation. She released Emma's arm, and the maid immediately covered the cut with a clean napkin, her eyes downcast.
"It's… strong." Luna said quietly, the words feeling inadequate.
"Like i said Emma's blood tastiest blood i ever tasted."
"I still prefer the sweetness and cinnamon in Nox's blood," Luna said, pulling a small vial labeled 'Nox' from her pocket. "Want to try it?"
"I have been curious about this blood you praise so much," Lucy said after wrapping Emma's wrist with her own napkin. She took the wine glass Luna had filled with Nox's blood. "The cinnamon scent is really there, just as you said. Let's see how it tastes." She tilted the glass slightly and took a small sip.
"Sweet, almost like cranberry syrup, but the cinnamon notes balance it perfectly," Lucy remarked, using the tip of her tongue to lightly clean the remaining traces of blood from her lip.
It was then that Emma, who had been silent and watchful, cleared her throat. "A messenger came just before I left to find you, Miss Lucy. From Master Edward." She produced a sealed letter with the Bloodmoon crest—a droplet of blood suspended in a crescent moon.
Lucy took it, her expression turning to stone. She broke the seal and read, her eyes scanning the elegant script. As she read, her knuckles whitened around the parchment. A low, almost inaudible growl emanated from her throat. Luna could see the fury tightening her jawline.
"What is it?" Luna asked, concerned about cutting through the moment of reconciliation.
Without a word, Lucy held the letter over the flame of the table's candle. The expensive paper caught fire, blackening and curling. She dropped it into an ashtray, watching it consume itself.
"Edward is… *pleased*," she spat the word. "So pleased with the 'stability' I've brought to the Hexian end of the operation that he's decided to expand.
He's brokered a new, exclusive contract. Not just with the Tahara Church. With a consortium of alchemists and minor nobles he doesn't name. He's doubling the Bloodstone quota.
Luna felt the world tilt. The restaurant's opulence suddenly felt grotesque. The taste of Emma's blood turned acidic in her mouth.
A sharp pain spiked behind her eyes, a mix of psychic shock and overwhelming dread. The rosy light of the chandeliers swam, the voices around her melted into a distant roar.
"Luna?" Lucy's voice sounded far away.
Luna tried to stand, to say something, but the strength left her legs. The last thing she saw was Lucy's alarmed face leaning in, and Emma's hand reaching out, before the darkness rushed up and swallowed her whole.