Van

Van ran her finger around the rim of the goblet she was holding. She'd laughed out loud when her requested sprite was delivered in the gilded cup, but neither her father or the person offering her the drink found her response humorous. So, she'd covered it with a cough and looked at the walls of her father's office with intense interest.

Her father had his back to her while he talked on the phone. The words being spoken were quiet but rushed, and he he would turn to look at her from time to time. Either to assure himself she hadn't tried to run or that she wasn't eavesdropping, she wasn't sure. Probably both.

But to be honest, she didn't know what she would be listening for. This strange place was overwhelming, and while she wanted to believe her father was a few fries short of a happy, there had to be something to this place. There were too many people on the bandwagon, too much organization, for it to just be some hippy cult. Though, really. The Holy Asylum of Light? It was a terrible name.

"Alright, sorry about that," Father said, turning back to face Van. He looked years younger, his green eyes vibrant as he smiled at her. "It's time to show you what we do here."

Van pulled her lips tight and raised her eyebrows as she put the goblet on the desk. She wiped her palms on her pants and stood. "That would be nice. I'd like to know what was so important you had to drag me from my sickbed."

"Vanessa," he sighed, the smile fading. He stepped across the room and opened the door. She went out first, and he shut the door behind him and locked it with a key he put back in his pockets.

"Father."

Putting a hand on her shoulder, he guided her down the narrow hallway. It was dimly lit by sconces, and the sound of their steps against the cool, stone floors echoed. After s few minutes, Van noticed condensation forming on the wall, and she paused to touch it.

"Why are the walls wet?"

"We're moving underground."

"You work in a cave. Fabulous."

"Vanessa, I'm going to tolerate the snark for just a few more minutes. What you're about to see will completely change you."

"Shouldn't I have to sign a waiver for this? I didn't give you permission for anything life changing."

"You certainly received her acidic wit," Father said dryly before stopping in front of metal doors.

They looked out of place, all sleek and silver next to the drab brown rock around it. He pressed his hand against a black pad to the left, and it flashed green. The doors responded by whooshing open, releasing a flood of light that made Van's eyes water.

Where the upper floors of this place had been exactly what one would expect in a castle- stone everywhere, tapestries on walls, and firelight to guide the way- this new area was the epitome of the modern world. Glass and chrome. Open spaces and sleek machines that ran so quietly their hum was barely noticeable. A woman standing behind a glass partition frowned when she spied Van, and she tapped the barrier with one finger, turning the once clear glass opaque.

The people here were not dressed in red leathers. Most wore lab coats or white jumpsuits, and they all bore the same symbol- a round circle filled with lines like one of the maze games she'd played with when she was younger.

"What do the mazes stand for?" she asked.

Father's lips turned up. "Labyrinth not maze."

"What's the difference?"

"You can become lost in a maze, but a labyrinth only has one way in and out. Like life- we are born and then we die."

"Well that's not bleak."

"But it is right. And that's what we are here to do- protect innocents from those who seek to violate the natural laws of life and death."

They passed a man who was tinkering with a beaker of a bubbling, pink substance. He held it with beaker tongs and lifted it over a lit bunsen burner. The pink darkened to the color of wine, and a sickly sweet smell filled the air. Removing it from the heat with a satisfied grunt, he held it aloft in one hand while he jotted something down in a notebook.

"How exactly does someone violate the natural laws?" she asked when her father nudged her to continue walking. They were almost to the back of the room. It was noticeably darker and cooler here, and a long tube of smoky glass extended from the floor to the ceiling. It was wide enough that at least two dozen men could loop arms around its girth.

"Charissa."

A glass wall close to them lightened, revealing a petite woman with dark blue hair working at a desk. She jumped and spun around in her chair. When she saw Van's father watching her, she hopped to her feet, pushing the bridge of her glasses up her slim nose.

"Su-supreme. Was I expecting you today?"

"You should always be prepared for a visit."

"Of course," Charissa spluttered. She grabbed a chart lying on a rolling cart and thumbed through it. She snuck a curious glance at Van. "I'm not unprepared. I only wanted to make sure I hadn't made an error."

"The subject is available for viewing?"

"Yes sir. But, he's not fed in some time. He'll be more sensitive than usual."

"Good, I want him on edge. We will take the upper observation deck. Van, this way."

Father pointed to a flight of stairs she'd missed. They curved around cylinder, stopping about midway. Nearly all of her earlier trepidation was gone, replaced by a burning need to know what was hiding in this tub. And her father appeared keen to reveal its mysteries.

"Vanessa," Father grabbed her hand at the top of the stairs. She almost yanked it away, but the earnest expression on his face stopped her. "What you're going to see in here will be... unsettling. And you cannot go back to not knowing. Do you understand?"

She looked at the door and back at him. "Do I have a choice?"

The earnest expression became somber, but only for a moment. They were both placed with conviction. She could see it in the muscles of his jaw as he clenched his teeth, and he gave her a curt nod. "No, you really don't."

"Then show me what I'm here for."

"That's my girl."

Van bit back the reply that she was no one's girl, but Luca darted through her mind. But all thoughts of him vanished when she stepped inside the tube.

The floor beneath them was thick metal mesh, allowing her to see below her feet. Not that she could make out much. The only light in the tube came from the platform they stood on. The center of the room had no floor; the empty space stretched six feet across and ended at another mesh platform. On that platform Charissa stood, the chart from before in her hands, and a strange black device similar to a taser was now hooked on her belt.

"Whenever your ready, Supreme."

"Bring him up."

She nodded and pressed a button on the wall. Hissing and scratching erupted from below, and Van gasped when a sleek, black cage zipped into the empty space. Father reached out and tapped it, returning the material to its see through state.

On the bottom of the container was a man shaped pile of rags. Van crept closer and peered at it, wondering if this was some kind of joke. It too motionless to contain a living human. There was no rising and falling of a chest, no slight ticks or twitches.

"What is it?" she whispered, only to fall backwards with a shriek when the man leapt to his feet and slammed his fists into the wall.

"I smell you," he howled. He licked the barrier. His black and bloated tongue left a trail of rust colored saliva, and bits of his fingernails broke off as he clawed his cage. "I won't harm you. Just a little taste."

Van was trembling as she crept forward. She half expected her father to stop her, but he stood off to the side, his arms folded across his chest. It felt like a test.

The man- no she could not call him a man- the beast, squatted and scraped at his arms. Gray skin flaked off, floating to the floor like polluted snow. It started to rock, and it's eyes- eyes that suggested maybe once it had been human- filled with tears.

"Merciful beings, just end it. Please!"

"Drop a bag, Charissa," Father said into an intercom.

Charissa hit another button and a pouch filled with red liquid fell into the cage. The creature's nostrils flexed, and he crawled over to his package. Van froze, her heart pounding, knowing what was coming next but still not truly believing it would happen.

Long, sharp canines grew beneath his top lip, and he pierced the bag. His movements were deliberate, efficient- not the crazed fever she would have expected from someone starved. But it was as if he knew one false move would waste the precious blood.

"Do you understand yet?" Father stood beside her, his jade green eyes hard and flat as he watched his captive feast.

"H-how?" Her gaze never moved from the scene before her. The vampire- she knew it had to be one- grew less pale, stood straighter, and became more human with every gulp.

"He chose to seek out immortality. He is a violator of the natural order, and we are its keepers."

"B-but this is torture," Van shouted. This need to defend the person in the cage made no sense to her. It was a monster that would feast on her if it had the chance, but what her father and his minions had done was cruel.

"Do not speak on what you do not understand," her father said, every hint of warmth leaching from him as he snatched her by the arm and dragged her out of the room.

"Then mansplain it to me," she snapped while trying to free herself.

They were back in the lab, and across the room, people started to shout. "What is going on?" Father demanded, his grip growing tighter as he stormed towards the racket. Two of the red clad soldiers from the castle were standing next to a cage, their faces solemn.

"That's a baby panther," Van exclaimed, putting her hand to her head. The sight of the sleek, black cat mewling was almost more unsettling than discovering the existence of vampires. "What the actual hell do you need with this? You're not going to let that thing eat it are you?"

Father glared at her, and she couldn't help the smirk that formed on her lips. It would appear the take your daughter to work day wasn't going quite as he imagined. "Richard, is this who I think it is?"

"Yes, sir. The devices we planted in the house alerted us to the underaged shift. It was as you expected."

"And did the family cooperate?"

"Yes," the woman spoke up, the single syllable harsh. "We promised we'd see if we could return him to his original form." Richard and Father shared a look Van couldn't read, but the other woman could. "Sir!"

"Enough, Trixie. Take him to Jones. Keep me updated on his progress. I'll be back in after I take Vanessa home."

She waved her hand in their faces. "I prefer to be called Van."

"And Trixie," Father said, stopping her as she reached for the cage, "I'm taking you off your regular rotations."

"Did I do something wrong, Sir?" Van cheered inside. She liked this woman. There was no attempt to disguise the venom in her question.

"No, not at all. I want you training Vanessa. Immediately."