There were things; things floating in viscous liquid, things suspended from hooks and chains, things on chrome tables, surrounded by bloodied instruments. Calponia couldn't look at any one thing too long without it searing into her synapses. She was going to have a lifetime of nightmares from walking down this hallway.

Its walls were made of glass; these grisly scenes were proudly on display. A display to make her knees shake as the vampire in his white lab coat and opaque goggles nudged and shoved her into her own little room on display, where two other vampires waited for her, bustling around a chrome table. They laid out clean instruments with shining edges, needles and knives and empty vials. All waiting for her.

Calponia gulped and swerved backward. It was a knee jerk reaction, trying to run, but she couldn't help herself. The lead white coat caught her by the scruff of her neck and flung her onto the table as if she were a stubborn cat trying to avoid a booster shot. She didn't have time to gain her bearing before his assistants blurred in her vision, cuffing her in place with flexible metal straps.

"Ah, there we go. Assistant Kreve, prepare the sample tubes," said the goggle eyed one, his smile wide and full of sharp teeth.

"Yes, Dr. Vanak." One of the lackeys blurred away as the other cinched her straps tight, leaving her with no wiggle room. Her head was tilted upward, giving her an unwanted level of vision.

A whimper escaped her throat as her eyes slid to the room across from her, and the thing on display. She couldn't tell what it once was, not exactly. Some thing that was once hairy, she could tell by the skin flayed from it and pinned to the wall behind it. The skinless thing met her gaze, still horribly alive, nothing but madness left in its lidless eyes. Calponia squeezed her eyes shut, fighting the urge to throw up. She was pinned on her back, it would have nowhere to go but on her chest or on Dr. Vanak if managed to aim.

She knew she had no luck.

Counting to ten, she carefully opened her eyes, pointedly staring at the blank ceiling. Mostly blank. The cleaning crew missed a few splatters. She forced her gorge to settle. Her eyes slid to the remaining assistant as he swabbed the side of her neck. Dr. Vanak approached her with a monstrous needle as his other assistant returned with a tray of empty glass vials. The doctor loaded one into the syringe. A tremor started in her limbs.

"What are you going to do?" It was an inane question. The answer was obvious: anything he wanted. She was helpless here.

"Relax, young lady. We are going to take some samples," said Dr. Vanak. Another tray of empty vials plunked beside the first. Long wide tubes to fit the long hollow needle of the syringe. Too many tubes, to big. A third tray appeared. They were going to sample her to death.

Now more than ever she wished she could wield her misfortune like a shield. But like everything else in her life, the bète noir stayed muted. The needle plunged into her neck without warning.

Calponia made a noise, tears pricking at the harsh sting. She could feel the draw on her blood. It hurt, it hurt like hell and she new this was just the kick off. Her veins throbbed.

Dr. Vanak plunged right into a main artery. She could feel the push of her blood, seeking freedom. The vials began to rotate, filled, ejected, replaced with an empty, and the drag on her veins continued. The light overhead was too bright. It stung her eyes. Her neck was numb where the needle pierced through her skin but a red hot streak of pain curled and shifted down her back, parallel to her spine as her nerves caught fire. Her vision wobbled. Too much. They were taking too much.

A muffled gun shot rang out, followed by the rending scream of tearing metal. The doctor didn't so much as twitch, replacing the filled vial with another empty one, topping off both. He frowned at his assistants. "See what that was."

They disappeared around the corner. Despite all the glass walls, Calponia couldn't see where they went, or what was happening. The edges of her vision were full of shadows.

Sounds erupted from the hallway. Screams and tearing, a wet rip that made her think of meat stripped from bone. Another shot rang out. A ricochet of debris clipped the doorway, popping into the meat of Dr. Vanak's forearm.

The needle ripped free. Calponia gasped in a deep drag of air.

"You son of a bitch," she snarled at Vanak. Blood trickled down her neck. The vampire ignored her, prying the shrapnel from his arm. It clinked as it hit the metal table. Even covered in blood, her vision wavering, Calponia recognized a tooth.

A small smile trembled on her lips. They'd come for her. Someone from the Edgewise had come for her...

One of the assistants sailed past the open doorway. At least she was pretty sure it was an assistant by the white coat. His identity was confirmed when his head sailed past a moment later, a surprised look still frozen on his face. Vanak fell back a step at the sight, clutching his forearm.

The second assistant stumbled against the door frame, his pale face streaked with crimson as blood poured from his mouth, choking on whatever words he tried to speak. Calponia could see the reason, through the massive hole in his chest cavity, as if something chewed through him. He fell at the doctor's feet, who took another step backward, slipping a vial of her blood into the pockets of his lab coat. He reached for another one, his expression determined, when another shape blurred into the room. The doctor released a startled cry, abruptly silenced as he disappeared.

Calponia fought to keep her eyes open, wondering what would enter the room next. What did enter through the doorway was the last thing she expected. Her eyes filled as Mack strolled inside, Munch's bone rifle slung over his shoulder.

His face darkened at the sight of her. He rushed forward, ripping the straps from her. Weren't they metal? Calponia could hear them tearing like tissue. How strong, exactly, was her boss compared to the vampires who put her here? Not to mention the elephant in the room. She stared at him, trying to focus on his bearded face.

"You were dead," she whispered. The words shivered from her mouth, shaky as the rest of her.

"It didn't take," Mack muttered, scooping her off the table. Her head lolled against his shoulder. Even through the thickness of his jacket she could feel his warmth, hear the solid beat of his heart, a calm pulse despite the violence of the moment. Calponia buried her face against his chest, squeezing her eyes tight as he carried her out of the room. She didn't want to see the hall of horrible displays but Mack paused. His body half turned.

"Burn the blood, all of it," he said. Calponia almost peeked but the act of opening her eyes made her head spin. Whoever Mack addressed answered in silence.

It felt like floating, her awareness sputtering like a wet candle wick. Calponia was only vaguely aware they left the Recruitment and Research building by the cool rush of damp air. It roused her senses enough to know they'd stopped.

Her eyes fluttered open to a problem.

There were surrounded by uniformed vampires, many of whom she recognized as the group that brought her here. A young vampire stepped forward. She didn't recognize him at first, no longer covered in muck.

"This is a rather unfortunate turn of events," said the youth, his pale eyes flicking from Mack's face to the loose circle of nervous vampires.

"You could just let us go," said Mack. "Consider it compensation for the unsavory situation you placed me in earlier." The muscles of his arms remained loose and relaxed beneath her, as if their current predicament was a minor inconvenience.

The silence stretched for a long moment between breaths before the young vampire stepped aside, snapping at the others to do the same.

"Get her out of here," he said to Mack, not quite looking at her as he spoke, "before she brings the whole city down."

Whatever incredulity or rush of adrenaline kept her awake abandoned her as Mack exited through the city gate. Her senses fuzzed until she slipped beneath the comforting blanket of unconsciousness.

Prince Valentinianus, the Bloody Prince, had a reputation for ruthless methods and breathtaking violence. In Sanguinheim, that was all he was. He would never be anything else here. It was a carefully constructed image, a far cry from the weak child his brothers believed would die before he grew into a man. He proved them wrong. He proved his mother wrong for leaving him to the mercy of the Blood Forest. He proved his superiors wrong when they threw him to the front lines, expecting the extraneous prince to perish to the snap of Wolven teeth. His emperor father would never acknowledge him beyond a title, never acknowledge the military ranks he clawed his way through in shredded flesh and shattered bones. He was the one who shouldn't have survived or thrived, but he had, and he hated every minute of it.

It was an accident, finding the Edgewise.

He'd come home from another victorious battle. The stench of death clung to him, gore still caked beneath his nails from their latest tussle with the ever invading Wolven. A never ending war that left him weary and worn. Valentinianus walked away from the parading entourage of soldiers, running his fingers along the smooth riveted walls of barracks as he sought some quiet corner to forget the violence, if only for a moment.

He passed a door that hummed under his fingertips. Valentinianus frowned at the door. The building was supposed to be empty. He'd knocked, once, twice, three times. To this day, he didn't understand why he knocked. He was prince, no matter how far down the royal totem pole he may be. Yet he knocked; it felt right. The door swung open with the rich scent of whiskey and wood polish. Valentinianus blinked into the warm light of the tavern, astonished by it, mesmerized by the play of light on gleaming wood. He stepped inside, a moth drawn to the flame. The door swung shut behind him. The room breathed around him, the very pulse of life. He wandered, dazed until he slid onto a stool at the bar. He almost steadied himself there but it wasn't right to place his filthy hands on the wood. Valentinianus didn't want to sully it.

The man behind the bar eyed him, polishing a glass with a clean white rag. Everything here was so clean.

"Where is this place?"

"Ah, a newbie," said the barman, carefully setting the glass on the counter so he could brace his forearms on either side. "Welcome to the Edgewise tavern, lad. We have few rules of conduct but they are heavily enforced." He nodded to a plaque behind him, bearing a short list in no nonsense script.

Leave all conflicts outside. The simplicity of it flooded his veins with a sense of peace he'd never known.

"What can I get for you, lad?"

Valentinianus hesitated, bewildered by the sudden turn in his fortunes. His request was out before he thought better of it. "Do you carry blood whiskey?"

But the barman didn't bat an eye at his request, or the revelation his new client was a vampire. A fresh glass was placed before the prince, filled with familiar red umber liquid. He clutched it, seeking an anchor as he tried to process the wonder of the Edgewise.

No conflicts, no killing.

He sipped his drink, experiencing a true moment of quiet until another patron slipped beside him.

"Hello, name's Cesario. This your first time here?"

A hand, framed by a ridiculous amount of ruffles extended towards him, as if he were just another patron, enjoying the atmosphere of the tavern, and not the Bloody Prince.

The switch happened then, an internal eureka moment in a split second as he stared down that the soft palm of the unsuspecting Cesario. He wasn't in Sanguinheim anymore. He didn't have to be Prince Valentinianus here.

"Eugene." He shook the offered hand, sealing his new identity.

He wondered which one was his true self.

Dr. Vanak dangled from his grip. The temptation to pop the little man's head from his shoulders was a strong one, especially after an eyeful of Calponia strapped to the table. Rage colored his vision a brilliant crimson. He stared up at the gasping doctor, shaking with the effort not to end him as Mack retrieved her from the room. She didn't see him, he made sure of that. Angling himself so he would be visible from the doorway. Not that he had to worry. She kept her eyes shut, clearly horrified by her surroundings. He couldn't blame her. Recruitment and Research was the Empire's pit of deviance. Dr. Vanak had a full run of the show and the full support of the Empire backing him. Killing him would cause a great deal of inconvenience for Valentinianus and great displeasure from his father. That wasn't quite enough to stay his hand.

There was another reason he needed Vanak alive, driven home by the skinned Wolven in the room across from Calponia.

Valentinianus had the distinct impression Dr. Vanak knew about the incursions the former captain covered up. He needed to find out who the good doctor worked for.

Once Mack and his apprentice were safely out of the picture, he carried the doctor into the room, setting him on the floor as he gathered the vials of Calponia's blood into a tray. He doused them with a clear astringent alcohol and lit them up.

Burn the blood. Mack was very clear on that.

Dr. Vanak was furious as he did so but nervous around the Blood Prince. That much was clear in his careful tone. "There has been a mistake, your majesty. Destroying this blood is a waste. It could be a key to a much greater puzzle."

"A puzzle I am just becoming aware of, Dr. Vanak." He stared at the man, aware his eyes still burned red. "Who do you answer to?"

The doctor swallowed. His loyalties were not worth his life. "Your father."

Valentinianus licked a fang. It made sense but if his father was involved then something was happening on a much bigger scale than a pile of randomly dead Wolven in the Blood Forest. He leaned on the empty table. The metal was still cooling from Calponia's warmth. Her scent lingered in the air. He breathed it in, gaining focus. His eyes settled to their normal dark color as he gazed at Dr. Vanak.

"You're going to tell me everything you know," said Valentinianus. Between the good doctor and his newly appointed captain, he would gather the information he needed. He tapped his fingers against the metal table, causing the doctor to flinch. "You will report to me now."

Dr. Vanak nodded vehemently, opening his mouth to spill when the prince held up a finger. "And you will give me the vial of blood in your pocket."

The color fled the vampire's already pale face but handed over the vial without protest. He began to speak, revealing many things the prince suspected and more he hadn't been aware of in the slightest. Valentinianus turned the vial over in his fingers as he listened, the soft slosh of liquid a comforting sound against the grating buzz of the doctor's voice.

"That is all I know my prince," said Dr. Vanak, folding his hands on top of one another as he bowed his head.

The prince nodded, his jaw tight. He looked at the Wolven in the opposite cell. These developments were troubling, troubling enough for his father to conceal it from his own sons, his own people. 

"You will continue your work here," said Valentinianus. "Report all your findings to me first." His fingers curled around the vial of blood. Her blood.

He slipped the vial into his vest pocket.