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Do You Want To Live Forever?-New Chpt 10-6-5	By : Lin Category: Rurouni Kenshin > General Views: 11246 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Rurouni Kenshin, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 17
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A/N:I have new picture gallaries open on my website. One of them is dedicated to this story and
all the pictures people have drawn for it. You can reach my website by going to my author’s page
here on fanfiction and activating the ‘homepage’ link. The gallaries banner is at the bottom of my
navigation page. It is new also. A gift given to me by Female Hitokiri Battousai. Oh... and
before I forget. On my front page, there is an announcement about her new fanfiction contest.
Read it! God Bless....................Knt

Chapter Seventeen

A General for All Seasons

            The Vampire, Machavelia, had been with The Master for 212 years. They met during The
French Revolutionary War when the peasants were in the business of be-heading the aristocracy
and Machavelia was trying to save the melon of thoughts that still bounced upon his neck. Born

The Baron of Linesse’, he stood to inherit a fortune from his grandfather, The Duke of Parlei’,
who was a great merchant dealing in imported linens and dress goods. His own father escaped
the sharp judgement of the guillotine by dying of diphtheria ten years earlier leaving only
Machavelia and his elderly grandfather to face the rising masses of lunacy as they swept over the
french countryside.

            Saitou found the two of them hiding in an old, moldy tomb inside one of the ransacked
cemeteries, huddling together like frightened children in the night. He dispatched the old man in
moments without giving a thought to whom he might otherwise be, and then turned to the
remaining man. Struck by the stunning blue eyes and pale blonde hair, the great vampire had
stopped and considered the human being before him. It was not everyday one came across such
beauty, and Saitou was not immune to such things.

            Making Machavelia into a vampire had been a spur of the moment decision, but one he
never regretted. The golden-haired vampire was one of his most loyal, and trusted of servants.
Indeed, he was one of the few who was not slitting throat and scrambling for every scrap that fell
Saitou’s table. This was a vampire with class, education, and a suave elegance that The Master
himself often studied and tried to emulate. Manners and eloquence were always things Saitou
sought out in his subordinates after that, at least as much as was possible. That was one of the
reasons he had stopped ‘siring’ offspring of his own. The selection of honorable and decent
humans was getting thinner the farther into the future he traveled.

OooooooooooooooooOoooooooooooooooOooooooooooooooooooOooooooooooooooooooOoooo

New York, upper Eastside

Late Sunday night... 11:43 pm

April 2004

Machavelia

Jordan Armstrong

Stalking Vampire

Victim

            The night turned cold and the mist hung upon the ground like a furry blanket of cotton
and gossamer threads. The moon was only a sliver of white in the midnight blue sky, and the stars
barely twinkled at all. No breeze stirred the air and the silence that prevailed was as deafening as
any cannons blast. It was the perfect night for a hunt.

            Warmth. He could sense the warmth of fresh blood nearby and it sent his salivation glands
into overdrive. Too many nights without a healthy feeding did this to him, and he knew he
needed to be careful not to make a mess of his meal once he took it. The increased hunger caused
from going without the necessary quantity of blood for basic survival tended to make him
ravenous bringing out the wild, frenzied demon that lived just beneath the surface of his flesh. He
became more beast than vampire and the remains of his kills would often be spread out in pieces
of bloody chaos.

            A low, chuckling growl crawled up his throat as he lost himself in the shroud of the mist.
He loved the whole ambience of the ‘predator and prey’ relationship, and over time he had
learned to enjoy it as completely as possible. This slow stalking game of cat and mouse was
nearly as much fun as the devouring itself. The sensations that could be experienced as the
human’s growing unease turned propelled itself into fear were intoxicating. The taste of terror
was by far the most satisfying part of the game, and he had become a consummate expert at
wringing every ounce of it from every one his victims.

            The quick staccato ‘click’ of heels on the pavement identified the human as a female, or so
he assumed. He had not met many males who deigned to wear a shoe or boot with a substantial
heel, but there were some. A smile of saccharin sweetness curled his thin lips as he recalled the
last ‘high-heel’ wearing male he devoured. That was a memory to be savored and one of the few
that had the power to make him laugh. The poor little ‘girly-boy’ had whimpered and pleaded
better than any woman, and screamed much louder as well. He tasted of screwdrivers and
margaritas... too much salt.

            ‘They’ covered about a block and then turned a corner. The sense of anxiety drifted back
to him and he settled deeper into his tan-colored trench, flipping the high collar up around his
neck and ears. His hands disappeared into the deep side pockets and he quickened his pace, just a
step or two, letting the sole of his heavy boots make a ‘scuffing’ sound as it scraped over the
ground. A cold feeling of satisfaction slithered through his vitals as the sensation of anxiety
within his prey intensified and the clicking staccato gained speed.

            “Where are you running too so fast, little bird?” He called in a soft, sensual voice. “Do
you think I am not finding you in the dark, humm? Are you feeling more safe if you tug your coat
tight and scamper into the mists, eh?” The lilting inflection of his odd accent hugged the words as
they dripped from his mouth and oozed into the air.

            Short panting breaths reached back and tingled his sensitive hearing and he smiled,
showing sharp canines as they pressed into his full, lower lip. It would be soon. He could almost
hear the pounding of the human heart as fear rose up from her belly and began to squeeze the life
pumping muscle. Soon the sound of her blood would be rushing through his ears as it poured
down his throat, and the frail, thrashing limbs would crumble beneath the strength of his hands
and body. His tongue appeared and lapped hungrily at his lips as excitement and anticipation
filled him. He could almost taste her...

              As ‘they’ passed beneath the dimness of a street light, she paused and took several deep
breaths trying to calm her rattled nerves. She knew it was probably just because of the mist and
the fact that it was such a dark night, but the hair on the back of her neck was standing on end for
over three blocks now and she had the strangest sensation that someone was following her.
Tugging the collar of her coat closer around her throat, she wondered if that breathy voice she
heard was just her imagination or if she had really heard someone say something about
‘scampering into the mist’? The whole thing was starting to get her frazzled and she just wanted
to get home behind a locked door.

            Looking around as far as the dim light would allow her, she couldn’t see anything except
herself and a small section of empty street. That did nothing to salve her burgeoning emotions,
and as the first twinges of panic started to tickle the edge of her mind, she decided it was time to
move along and put some distance between herself and her fears. After all, wasn’t she being a
little over-reactive? Perhaps not.

            He watched with keen interest as she gazed with huge doe-eyes into the opacity of the
mist looking right at him and seeing nothing. How gullible and fallible these humans were, he
thought watching her teeth chatter and knees knock. She was on the verge of pure blown terror
and yet continued to mind-talk herself out of the fact there could be any real danger. The mist
and the dark were playing games with her, that is all it was.

            He laughed to himself as he saw her make the decision to run. ‘Typical. Predictable.
Futile.’

            Materializing out of the gray-white wall of nothingness, he reached out and grabbed a
handful of her blazing red hair as she turned to run, yanking her back with enough vicious
strength to separate many strands from her scalp as well as pull her off her feet. A wild disarray
of flailing arms and legs followed her as she tumbled backwards into his outstretched arms
screaming with surprised terror. One of her dark brown pumps flew off her slender foot and went
sailing off into the netherland beyond the mist where it was lost to the darkness.

            Terror. Pure, unrestrained and growing by the second surged up and flooded his senses as
he threw her small body over his shoulder and bounded into the night. The intensity was electric
and was sending violent shocks of emotional lightening stabbing through his starving system
creating a haze of hunger and desire so extreme, he nearly threw her on the ground and tore her
into pieces right then. Instead, he vanished with the speed of the undead and sought out a quiet
place where he might enjoy her to the fullest.

OoooooooooooooOoooooooooooooOoooooooooooooooooooOoooooooooooooooOooooooooooooo

            “Agh, disgusting...” Machavelia raised a handkerchief covered hand to his nose and
delicately dabbed at his upper lip as if he were still human and could suffer from such frailties as
nausea or swooning. As it was, he continued to play the French Aristocrat down to his very
attire, preferring the velvet vests, long cotton breeches, balloon-sleeved shirts complete with ascot
and lace cuff, gentlemen’s coat, and walking stick. Several years earlier he was convinced that
the powdered wigs, hats, and buckled shoes were not acceptable attire in the modern world, and
he had finally foregone indulging himself in those particular things. Otherwise, he was every inch
the french gentleman he had been in life.

            “What shall we do, Monsieur? The Master’s plane will be landing at your private airstrip
in less than three hours.” Jordan Armstrong, Machavelia’s Lieutenant, gazed dispassionately at
the carnage and gore that covered the ground at their feet. The remains of what had once been a
young, red-haired human girl was strewn across several yards of the vacant lot and smeared over
the pale stucco of the abandoned building beside them. In the middle of the desecration lay a
blood-soaked, unconscious, happily smiling vampire. Obviously the subject of their obtuse
conversation.

            “Get Nathanial and Jeremy and pick him up.” The golden vampire waved an irritated hand
toward the fouled vampire. “We must clean him before the Master comes. It would not due for
any of us for him to be seen in this... state. That is, if you like your head where it is attached,
nay?”

            “Indeed, Monsieur. I do not want to lose my head over one such as him.”

            “No, my friend. He may be a magnificent General, but he is a terrible vampire. So
messy.” Once more, the handkerchief dabbed beneath the stuffy vampire’s nose as his clear,
shining blue eyes judged the amount of repair needed to fix the damages this one man had cost
him so far since the Master sent him to help them. “How long will it be to clean up this... this
disaster?”

            “At least a few hours, Monsieur.” Jordan shook his head as he motioned for his comrades
to come pick up the unconscious man. “I will call for a back-up crew to come and take care of
this.” He said taking out his cell phone. “It will all be just a fond memory before morning
comes.”

            “Oui, and make certain there are no pieces left behind this time. I do not want the Master
to hear of this on the late night News, nay?”

            “Yes, of course. It will be done, Monsieur.”

            “See that it is, Jordan. There can be no more mistakes. We cannot afford them. Do you
understand?”

            “Yes. We all do.” He spoke quickly into his phone and then flipped it closed. “They are
on their way and everything will be done. I give you my word, Lord Machavelia.”

            “Oui,” The golden hair danced around his face as he nodded, and then Machavelia turned
one last baleful look upon the departing menace. “Make certain he is in clean clothes as well,
Jordan. He must be at least physically presentable for the Master when he arrives.” The Vampire
favored his Lieutenant with a cold, meaningful stare. “I am still quite fond of my head, oui?”

            “Yes sir.”

            “Then let us leave this terrible place to the ghosts that choose to linger.” Turning on his
heel, the tall blonde vampire spun his walking stick out in front of him and gingerly tapped the tip
upon the gory obstacle in his path. “Pretty eyes... lovely hair...” he murmured as he looked briefly
upon the severed head of the dead girl. “Pity he always has to tear them to pieces, nay, Jordan?
I’m thinking this one was perhaps quite beautiful... such smooth skin.”

            “Yes, a pity indeed, sir.” Behind his departing commanders back, Jordan quietly muffled a
nauseated ‘erp’ as his dinner tried to come up and say a second ‘hello’ to his palate. Sometimes it
just didn’t pay to still be a human.

OoooooooooooooooOoooooooooooooooOooooooooooooooooooooOoooooooooooooooooooo

New York, Upper Eastside

Linesse’, Estate of Gardens

Early Monday Morning... 2:37 am

Haijme Saitou

Machavelia

Jordan Armstrong

Shishio Makato

            “Welcome, Great Master, welcome to my humble home.” Machavelia gracefully
approached the tall, lithe figure standing in the center of his parlor and sweeping in a low,
flamboyant bow tried to cover up his growing sense of unease. Jordan had yet to return with the
guest of honor and he knew that would be one of the first things the Master asked about... if not
the first.

            “Thank-you, Machavelia, but all of this pomp and bullshit really isn’t necessary.” Saitou’s
voice was sharp and it stabbed through the golden vampire bringing him up abruptly to face the
stern features. “Where is Shishio? I’ve been hearing a few, shall we say, interesting tales about
his activities since his arrival.”

            “I... ah... What have you heard, my lord?” If vampires could sweat, Machavelia would be
drenched in a cold one at that moment. He knew exactly what the Master had heard, but he was
trying to stall for time hoping Shishio could answer for his own actions instead of himself being
held responsible.

            “Don’t give me any of your pretty french manners and double talk, dammit! You know
precisely what I’m talking about, and now I want to know what the fuck is the matter with you
that you can’t keep control of this outpost without my constant intervention?” Fury crackled
around Saitou’s body like snaking tendrils of wild energy as he started to pace back and forth
across the polished, hard wood floor. “I don’t want to hear anymore excuses, Machavelia. I
don’t want to hear you whining about ‘Cel’ and power waves that wake you up at night, and I
don’t want to hear anymore about wavering resolves. Do I make myself quite clear?!”

            “Oui, oui, my lord, but if you will permit me to try and explain about the General...”

            “What you talk about me, you over-stuffed, peacock?”

            Saitou swung around with narrowed eyes and observed the loud-mouthed, swaggering
vampire as he wandering jauntily into the room as if he had all the time in the world. “And just
where the fucking hell have you been?” He demanded.

            “Sleeping off my last one-night stand, Uriel. Surely you know how good it is to drink
until the oblivians take you away, eh? Or have you forgotten everything... old friend?” Shisho
dropped down into a chair of velvet brocade and satin plush. Languidly he hung one leg over the
overstuffed arm and took out a pack of cigarettes. “Have one?” He offered negligently. Saitou
shook his head. Shrugging noncommital, Shishio slipped the fag into his mouth and lit it.

            “How often must I remind you, General Maketo, not to call my by that name?”

            “It would appear at least once more... Lord Diamond.” A puff of smoke, an ash flicked on
the floor, and a pair of flaming vermillion eyes bearing hard into the tall vampire. “What is the
difference to us what we call each other, Uriel? Whether I call you this or that, or you call me
Shishio or Milos?”

            “Shut-up, you fucking disgrace! Don’t you understand anything inside that scrambled egg
you call a brain? Don’t you see that every time you go out on one of your ‘one-night stands’ you
put the whole out-post in danger? Can’t you see anything past your own arrogant, self-serving
nose?”

            “Tsk, tsk... Hajime, but you do get worked over the smallest of things.” Another puff of
smoke, another ash on the floor. “You should learn this stress relief everyone talks of, eh? Or
perhaps you will be dying so young.” The level of maliciousness evident in the cascade of
chuckles that accompanied those statements made Saitou seethe... and Machavelia flinch. “Come,
have a smoke and calm yourself. Your golden-child, here, has taken care of all things. There is
nothing to be fearing.”

            “Meaning what, exactly?”

            “He cleans up after me, no?” Shisho burst into laughter as the blonde vampire gasped and
covered his mouth with his hand. “See, he thinks I know nothing about his little mop-up parties
trying to save his own bloody melon, but I do know, and believe me when I tell you,
Machavelia–if Uriel wants to lop off your head, all the bowing and ass-licking will help nothing
for you. He will still take it off–right at your rediculous shoulders.”

            Machavelia was spluttering and looking nothing like the elegant, classy french gentleman
he was known to be. Instead, he was starting to appear more and more like a panicked chicken
trying to escape a crafty fox. Frustration filled the room and Saitou angrily gritted his teeth. If
Shishio wasn’t so valuable an asset, he would kill him himself, but he was valuable. More than
most understood.

            “Get out,” Saitou growled to the flustered frenchman. “And take your men with you. I
want to talk to the ‘General’ alone–if you don’t mind.”

            “Oui, oui...” Machavelia waved all of his people out of the room and he quickly followed
suit turning to close the double doors behind him. “Forgive me, my lord... I did try.”

            “Of course. I will deal with you later.” An audible gulp was the only reply he heard after
he spoke, and then the doors shut with a loud ‘click’. “Alright, you bastard,” he gritted out
between his teeth. “Let’s have it. Just exactly what is your problem? Why are you acting like
this when there is so much depending on you?”

            “You mean, why am I acting like this when ‘little brother’ is close here and could start
causing difficulties for you? Isn’t that what you are really meaning... Uriel?” Shishio blew the
last puff of smoke out and dropped the used butt on the floor where it fell close to the pile of
spent ashes. “Let us at least being honest with each other if we are talking. You are afraid of
him, no?”

            “No, I am not afraid of him, but you should be.”

            “Hmm, and why is that? I am not thinking I have anything to fear from so small a man.”

            “He may be small, Milos, but he has the blood... he is The Fang. Don’t you remember the
Prophecy?”

            “Bah,” He waved a hand through the air dismissing the significance of that statement.
“The Prophecy is just words running from a dead woman’s mouth. They mean nothing to me.
Your little ‘Cel’ cannot bring harm to me, Uriel. He is insignificant like bug. I will squash him
beneath my boot.”

            “And if you can’t? What then? Have you thought of that?”

            “Perhaps it is you who needs to be thinking of that, my friend. I am only to fight your
war, not your battle with ‘Cel’. You said to me you would kill him yourself. Why am I needed to
be afraid of him? I will probably not even be seeing him, only his little soldiers who come out to
die under my sword.”

            “Your arrogance is intolerable, Milos.” Saitou moved across the space that separated
them and sat down in the chair opposite the lounging vampire. “Why must you behave this way
when there is so much at stake now? Surely you can sense who much his powers are growing as I
can. The very atmosphere here within the city feels electrified in a way I do not remember and I
must admit to feeling surprised by it.”

            “That must be unpleasant for you, Uriel.” Shishio turned his gaze toward the closed
double doors and frowned. “Are you certain it is not fear you are experiencing rather than this
surprise?”

            Saitou’s glittering amber eyes narrowed dangerously. “No, it is not fear. The boy may be
more powerful than I was originally betting on, but he is inexperienced and naive which still gives
me the edge I am looking for.”

            “How do you see that as an edge?” The glowing vermillion eyes continued to stare at the
door as if he could see something on the other side. “Naivety is one thing, but inexperience can
be easily washed away by the right teacher. Even you know this to be truth, yes?”

            “Yes, to some extent, but he can’t learn everything we have learned over hundreds... or
thousands of years. He doesn’t know how to be a ‘vampire’ or fight like one.”

            “Perhaps, old friend, that is not the issue.” Suddenly Shishio bolted to his feet and flew to
the doors on silent feet. In a flash of pale hands he yanked the portal open thinking to surprise an
unwanted lurker on the other side, but the hallway was empty. “Hmm...” Delicate, sensitive
nostrils sniffed the air trying to catch even the slightest hint of a scent but there was nothing.

            “What has gotten into you?” Saitou rose from his chair regarding the other man with
strained curiosity.

            “Nothing it seems, although I could have believed there was someone listening to us talk
through this door.” Blood-red eyes narrowed into suspicious slits. “It seems I was mistaken,
eh?”

            “So it would seem.” However, Saitou now had the strangest feeling of discomfort that
perhaps the paranoid vampire was right after all. Something seemed out of place but he couldn’t
put his finger on it. “Come back inside,” he said at last and motioned Shishio to come sit with
him again. “Let’s have a cigarette and talk seriously. There is much to do.”

            “Yes, and plans to make.” One more intense look up and down the dimly lit hallway
reassured him no one was about and he shut the door with a slow, deliberate motion. “You have
not fooled me, little spy.” He whispered just as the lock ‘clicked’ into place. “I know you were
there... I know you were. I could feel your eyes through the door, and I am never wrong. I will
find you soon, and when I do, we will be having such fun, you and I. Such bloody fun.”

            “And where are you off to in such a hurry? I don’t remember anyone having orders to go
out tonight?”

            “It’s alright, Jordan. Leave the boy alone. He’s probably hungry.” Machavelia appeared
out of the shadows and gently chided his Lieutenant. “I have not seen him feed on anything
substantial for two days so he is most likely starving, oui? Is that it? You are going out to hunt,
nay?”

            “Yes sir. You are right. I haven’t had anything decent for days and I’m famished. I really
need something to sink my teeth into.” The smile was completely innocent, yet the large brown
eyes were filled with glittering hunger and malice. “I didn’t know I had to have permission to
leave the grounds to go trolling.”

            “I usually like to know where my vampires are off to. It is more of a courtesy than
anything else, you understand? I must be accountable for so many lives to the Master, and each
one is so much more valuable now with all these new goings on with The Fang and The Clans. I
must know where you are so I can keep my tallies accurate.”

            “Of course, Monsieur. Forgive me. I had not thought of that. I will remember in the
future to let someone know when I am leaving for something to eat. I trust I am not a prisoner
here?” The last was stated with a charming half-grin that made the blonde vampire chuckle.

            “No, dear boy, you are not a prisoner, but you are accountable for your whereabouts.”

            “I will remember that.” The dark-haired boy-vampire bowed low in a sweeping gesture
that obviously pleased his commander. “I would also like to visit some old friends who are
considering joining the Master’s cause. Is this permitted?”

            “Oui, Oui, of course. I will not expect to see you back until tomorrow evening then.”

            “Thank-you, Monsieur. You are very generous. Would you like for me to bring you
anything back? Some wine perhaps?”

            “Ah, some wine... that would be lovely.”

            “Anything particular?”

            “Something old, dear boy. Something old and very expensive.” Machavelia grinned and
tapped the boys shoulder with his walking stick. “I drink only the very best, oui?”

            “Indeed. I will search and find the oldest, most expensive bottle of wine New York has to
offer.”

            “Splendid! But be certain it is not bitter. I do despise a bitter wine.”

            “But of course, Monsieur. Only the best for the Baron of Linesse’.” With that, the boy
bowed again and disappeared into the night, a lilting whistle drifting on the breeze behind him.

            “I don’t trust him, Monsieur.” Jordan’s teeth ground together in agitation as he watched
the lithe figure dissolve and become part of the darkness. “He just doesn’t seem to be as sincere
as the others. I think you should be careful what you say and do when he is around.”

            “Oh nonsense, Jordan.” Machavelia thumped his stick several times on the ground as he
dismissed his man’s concerns. “There is nothing wrong with that boy other than he was ‘made’ at
a very young age and still believes he can behave in that manner. He’s carefree and impetuous
and perhaps a little insubordinate, but there is nothing untrustworthy about him. You are far to
suspicious, my friend.” He patted the frowning human on the shoulder as he turned to walk away.
“You see conspiracy in everything, Jordan, and that is a way of thinking that you must learn to
control if we are to win the Master’s approval again. If we cannot control ourselves, how can we
control an army, eh?”

            “But, Monsieur...”

            “Enough, Jordan. The boy is no threat to us. He is just a boy. Leave it at that. I will
hear no more of this, is that clear?”

            “Yes, Monsieur.”

            “Oui. Come then, let us share a glass of wine and toast to our good fortune that the
General showed up when he did and saved us from being the ones to try and explain his behavior,
nay?”

            “Indeed. I’ll drink to that.”

            As they walked back toward the Mansion, Jordan found himself dwelling on the young-boy vampire despite what his commander had said. He knew he was still going to keep an eye on
the brown-eyed menace no matter what he was told. There was just something about that one
that didn’t sit right with him. Just something...

            Okita raced along the outskirts of The Estate of Gardens, taking the long route around the
perimeter before vaulting over the high masonry wall. He landed on the other side without a
sound and then took off up the street towards the center of the ‘upside’ district where he knew
there was a subway entrance. That was his ticket away from the stench of innocent blood and
back to the real world where he could start to put his thoughts back into some sort of rational
order. He knew that foremost before doing anything, he needed to talk to Major Shinomori.
What he had just seen and heard was tantamount to the dropping of a nuclear bomb on the city
and he needed to get that information into the hands of someone who knew what to do with it. It
needed to find its way to Lord Cel wherever he was, and it needed to get to him quickly.

            So, with no time to spare, Okita dove down the crumbling cement steps that lead to the
abandoned subway station, and leaping over the broken customer barrier, he sped across the
empty platform and jumped into the tunnel. Turning to the right, he disappeared inside the
yawning darkness as his unnatural speed changed his body into nothing more than a blur of semi-colored mist. The tunnel, he knew, would take him straight up to the annex that led to the ferry
docks. From there he would repossess the boat he had stashed along the craggy banks of the bay
and beat a hasty path for the island... and then home.

            It would be comforting to sleep in a bed that did not stink of blood. He knew it was only
two or three days since he left the compound, but being out among the ‘Made’ with their
disgusting habits and lifestyle made him feel as though he were wearing a suit made of blood and
he desperately needed to wash it off. He needed the solace of his own kind around him, and he
needed something to eat that did not taste of human flesh. In the time spent away on this mission,
he had neither slept well nor eaten anything of substantial value, and his starving systems were
beginning to show the strain. He was exhausted.

            “Major Shinomori, sir? The outer beacons are signaling a disturbance in the water on our
northeast shoreline. It looks like a small boat is dry-docking, sir.”

            “Who is it, can you tell?” Aoshi leaned over the controller’s shoulder and tried to make
out the figure that was materializing on the monitor screen. “Is that one of ours or do we have
unwanted company?”

            “It looks like Captain Soushi, sir.”

            “Okita? But he isn’t due to check in for another 72 hours. This can’t be good news.”
Reaching out, Aoshi pressed the necessary sequence of buttons to deactivate the perimeter alarms
and let his swiftly moving subordinate enter the compound unhindered. “He’s in an awful hurry,
isn’t he?”

            “Yes sir. I think you’re right. It’s not good news.”

            “Shit!” Cursing, the glacial quality of the dark-haired vampire’s eyes grew even colder as
he turned to the other controller in the small room and barked a harsh string of orders. “You,
Corporal, fetch the General and The Source, and bring The Keeper while you’re at it. I need the
main clan leaders here immediately.”

            “Yes sir. Do you wish for me to any of the other Slayers?”

            “No, just the leaders. Now move!” The man snapped a hasty salute and disappeared out
the door, his footsteps echoing through the superstructure as he ran towards the main Operations
Center. Aoshi watched him leave, eyes narrowed into slits of deep concern, and then turned back
to the monitor. “Where is Captain Okita now?”

            “He just entered the outer doors, Major. He should be getting on the elevator any
moment.”

            “Good. You stay here and reactivate the perimeter. I’m going to go meet him and bring
him back. Understand?”

            “Yes sir. Major?”

            “What?” Turning back, Aoshi favored his controller with an impatient look.

            “Where do I tell the others to meet you, sir? I’m sure the General will want to know.”

            “In my office, Jory. Tell them to meet me in my office. Got it?”

            “Yes sir.”

            “Right.” Slipping out the door, Aoshi raced up the incline leading to the newly repaired
Northgate. When he arrived, he was forced to stop and punch in the security code that would
open the massive steel doors before he could pass through. Thankfully it still worked. There was
so much internal structural damage to the wiring and relay circuits after Lord Cel had torn the
doors open that it had taken several of their best engineers working around the clock together to
repair it. At this point, he was just grateful the damn doors opened on the first try.

            The hallway was still brightly lit and it didn’t take him long to find a squinting Okita
making his way along with one hand on one wall. He looked terrible to Aoshi who rushed over
and immediately wrapped a supporting arm around his waist. Grateful brown eyes looked up into
the thin, chiseled features.

            “Do I look that bad?” He asked with a lopsided smile.

            “Yes, you look that bad. How do you feel?”

            “Like I’ve been run over by the 7^th street bus.” The two men shared a companionable
chuckle and then Aoshi was trying to help Okita stay on his feet. “Funny, I didn’t feel this weak a
little while ago.”

            “Let’s get you inside and some food into you. That should fetch you around in no time.”

            “Thank you, Major. You have no idea how good that sounds. That and a decent bed to
sleep in for a change.”

            “What? You mean the Baron doesn’t have every creature comfort known to man
available to him at the Gardens?” Aoshi was laughing as his helped the exhausted man through
the steel gate, but as he turned to punch in the code to close the doors, the look on Okita’s face
pulled him up short. “What’s wrong, Okita? What happened over there?”

            “It’s just the way you said it, Major... ‘creature comforts’–the estate is more of a lavish
palace than a home for vampires--except for the smell. The smell of blood is soaked into
everything–the carpets, the curtains, the linens... I swear it’s in the paint on the walls themselves.
It was almost more than I could stand.”

            “I’m sorry, my friend. I didn’t know.”

            “No one does, not unless you’ve been among ‘them’, and then it’s something you just
want to forget as quickly as possible.”

            “I understand. I wish it didn’t have to be this way.”

            “So do I, but it does.” The narrow jaw set into a hard line as the youthful looking vampire
gathered up his emotional strength. “I will find a way to cope and survive this assignment, Major.
The information I already have is more valuable than we could have dreamed it would be.”

            “That is what I hoped for, Okita, and what I feared. It isn’t good news, is it?”

            “No, Major, it isn’t good news but it has to get to Lord Cel as soon as possible. It is
imperative he know about this. Absolutely imperative.”

            “Alright. Come with me, let me help you to my office. I’ll have someone bring you
something eat and then I’ll see about getting you a bed to sleep in and some clean clothes. But
first, you have to tell me everything you know.”

            “I will, Major. But, sir... you aren’t going to bloody believe it.”

            “I was afraid of that.”



            Hiko demanded Okita eat and shower before they heard his report. One look at the
exhausted vampire and the General had nearly exploded in righteous outrage. No matter how
important, the report could wait until the Slayer was sufficiently recovered to give it. His care
and comfort became the main priority and all other things were put on hold until the Leader was
satisfied he was taken care of and all of his basic needs were met.

            Okita was astonished. It was the first time he was treated this way by the leader of the
clans, but then again, Hiko Seijuro was not longer ‘first’ leader. Perhaps that had something to
do with it, or, then again, perhaps his bonding with Lord Cel was more the reason than anything
else.

            “Are you feeling better, Captain?” The large, white-haired man walked into the room and
regarded the now clean and newly fed vampire with concerned eyes. “Is there anything you
require that would help in your present circumstances?”

            “No, no, General. I am feeling much better now, thank-you. You have been more than
accommodating in my time of need. I am most grateful.”

            “It is I who am grateful, Captain. What you are doing for The Cause is not only
distasteful but highly dangerous. If you are discovered, they will kill you. You know this, do you
not?”

            “Yes sir, I know this, but it must be done. This is the only way we can really find out
what they are planning. Were we to try and have one of our human counter-parts infiltrate their
ranks, the smell of his or her deceit could be picked up by even the most unsensitive of ‘Made’
noses. No, I am afraid this is the only way.”

            “I am afraid I must agree with you, but that does not mean I have to completely approve
of what is being done.” Hiko turned and motioned behind him. In short order he was joined by
the solemn trio of Aoshi, Kaoru, and Soujiro who filtered into the room and found seats. “It is
time, then, to hear what you have discovered, Captain. Major Shinomori tells me that I am not
going to like what I hear, and that I am not going to believe it either. Is this true?”

            “Yes sir. I believe both of those statements are correct. I have not spoken to the Major
of what I am about to tell all of you, so everyone is hearing this for the first time.” Taking a deep
breath to steady his suddenly fraying nerves, Okita folded his hands in his lap and trained his eyes
on the stern features of the General. “The Black Diamond is in New York. He flew in this
evening on a private plane.”

            “Hajime Saitou is here? Inside the city?” Kaoru leaned forward and gasped, her large
blue eyes grew round with shock. “Are you absolutely sure, Okita? Did you see him for
yourself?”

            “Yes, I saw him with my own two eyes, and I nearly dropped dead from the shock, I can
tell you that.”

            “No kidding.” Soujiro’s face drew into tight, stressful lines as he digested what the Slayer
turned spy was saying. “How many men did he bring with him? Do you know?”

            “I’m not really sure. I only saw two.” Okita’s brown eyes met and locked with The
Keepers dove-gray as the two men shared the intense moment. “He brought his dog, Arturo, of
course...”

            “That bloody Italian butcher.” Soujiro spat in the middle of his friends answer.

            “And another man I have not seen before. A blonde man with striking green eyes. He is
very young and still human. I heard them call him ‘Shiiba’.”

            “Must be a new ‘boy’. Saitou’s always on the look out for a new pretty face.” Aoshi’s
voice was cold, sharp as any steel as he folded his arms across his chest and frowned. “I wonder
what could have happened that would have brought him out of hiding?”

            “I... I was getting to that.” Okita cleared his throat and met the four pairs of eyes that
were now glued on his face. “He’s replaced Basil... the military leader they’ve had go missing the
last few weeks. No one seems to know what happened to him but he went out one night and
never came back. They are assuming he’s dead.”

            “Basil is... dead?” Hiko leaned forward, his emerald eyes wide and filled with disbelief.
“If someone took him out, they would have to be very good. Basil was as old as I am–as Saitou
is. He was Saitou’s second in command during the Revolution that destroyed the Monarchy and
began the War.”

            “I–I was not aware of that.” The hands in Okita’s lap fidgeted nervously and he broke eye
contact with the General. “Perhaps that is one of the reasons The Diamond has come out of
hiding then, sir. That, and because this vampire he’s replaced him with is... causing problems.”

            “Problems? What kind of problems?” Kaoru sat back and started to chew on one of her
fingernails. “Who is it? Anyone we know?”

            “Well, let me explain something first.” Okita shifted uncomfortably in his seat and then
leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “He’s different from anyone we’ve met before,
and he doesn’t hunt and kill like the other ‘Mades’... he’s... he’s a masochist.”

            “A ‘masochist’?” Soujiro turned to look at his sister and father, worry etched on all of
their faces. “What does that mean?”

            “He likes to stalk his ‘prey’ like a wolf or a lion or something. He likes to ‘feel’ their fear
before he attacks, and then once he does...” Discomfort filled the air around Okita as he tried to
find the words to explain. “He makes himself go without feeding substantially for several days so
he is very hungry. Very hungry.”

            “What are you getting at, Captain?” Aoshi looked almost as uncomfortable as Okita felt.

            “He goes sort of crazy once he starts feeding. I suppose you call it some kind of a blood-lust. He... ah... he rips his victims to pieces. Sometimes he feeds on their flesh as well as drinking
their blood.”

            “Dear God...”

            “Jesus...”

            “Holy Shit!”

            “Yes, exactly. Apparently, he leaves quite the mess when he’s finished. Machavelia has
been doing his best to clean up after him and keep it out of the papers and such, but who knows
how long that will last. This guy isn’t too particular about who or really where he eats. The last
mess he made was tonight in a vacant lot over on 12^th street behind the old boxing club. I heard he
left her ‘all over the place’... ate her heart and tore her head off. They found body parts strewn up
to 15 feet and blood smeared on the back wall. He apparently had a pretty good time with her.”

            “I think I’m going to be sick.” Kaoru’s face turned a sickly pale shade of gray-green and
she was pressing the back of her hand against her lips. “He sounds more like a monster than
anything else. I’ve never heard of a ‘Made’ doing anything like this before. I have never even
heard of anything like this. Is he insane?”

            “Maybe,” Brown eyes shifted warily as Okita considered his next piece of information and
the weight it carried. “If anyone were going to be insane in the midst of this chaos, it would
probably be him.”

            “Why do you say that, Captain?” Hiko cocked his head and favored the younger vampire
with a questioning look. “Why would he be more likely to be crazy than any of the rest of the
‘Made’, or any of us for that matter? Just exactly who is he? You haven’t told us that yet.”

            “I am aware of that, sir. I–I am not quite sure how to tell you who he is. I don’t think
you’ll believe me.”

            “And why wouldn’t I believe you, Captain Okita?”

            “Because, sir, if he is who I think he is, he’s older than any one of us or ‘them’, and he
would be an abomination of monstrous proportions.”

            “You are being very evasive, Captain, and my patience is beginning to wear. Just speak
the name. We will deal with the legitimacy of the information after that.”

            “Yes sir, but remember it was you who asked.”

            Hiko’s eyes narrowed at that ominous sounding statement and he began to wonder at the
wisdom of his own judgment. “Very well, I accept that responsibility such as it is.”

            “He goes by the name of Shishio Makito.”

            “Wait a minute, I have heard of him,” Aoshi sat up, his eyes wide with alarm. “But I
remember the name from the Japanese Bakumatsu in the late 1880's. He was a hitokiri for the
Imperialist Government during the Meji Era.”

            “A ‘hitokiri’?” Kaoru looked confused. “What the hell is that?”

            “An assassin, Slayer, he was an assassin.” Aoshi’s face took on a look of pure disgust. “A
manslayer without conscience or regard for human life. A murderer of innocents and a defiler of
all that was holy back then. That’s when he was turned. Durning the Japanese Revolution. One of
Saitou’s henchmen, by the name of Larnock, got a hold of him and sired him into the ‘order’.
After that, his killings became even more notorious. The Japanese called him ‘Oni-tenshu’. The
‘Demon God’.” The icy gaze turned and came to rest with freezing intensity upon the pale face of
the man relaying the terrible information. “What else is there, Captain Okita? I sense you are not
finished.”

            “No sir, sadly I am not. Tonight, after Saitou arrived, he was ushered into Machavelia’s
private parlor. I waited around and watched to see what would happen... about ten minutes later
Shishio Makito entered and words were spoke. I was too far away to hear. Shortly after, I did
hear The Diamond demand everyone leave and I saw Machavelia and his dog, Jordan leave the
room. That was when I made my way over to the doors so I could listen.”

            “And what did you hear, Captain?” Aoshi wasn’t at all sure he wanted to know the
answer to that question.”

            “Shishio kept calling Saito ‘Uriel’...”

            “That is his ‘real’ name.” Hiko interjected. “Gustav Uriel.”

            “So I assumed, but then... Shisho called himself by a different name as well.”

            “What? What name?” Aoshi looked confused and on the verge of anger as he reached up
to scratch the back of his head. “He’s always been Shishio... since before he was turned. What
other name is there?”

            “He–he called himself... Milos, Major. He said his name was Milos.”

            “M-Milos?! Dear God, are you certain?”

            “Yes, and when Lord Cel was mentioned, he called him ‘little brother’.”

            “Oh my God!” Kaoru bolted out of her seat and was kneeling on the floor in front of the
stunned man. “Are you certain that is what he said? Think, Okita. Are you absolutely positive
that is what he said?”

            “Yes, I am absolutely positive. If I wasn’t, do you think I would have all but killed myself
getting here tonight to tell you?”

            “Okita, do you know who Milos is?” Kaoru’s eyes were filled with a level of anxiety that
squeezed painfully at her friends heart.

            “Yes, Slayer. Remember, I was here the night Lord Cel spoke to us about Milos and The
Great Sin. I know ‘who’ he is and I know what he did. It is because of him we are what we are.”

            “But that is impossible.” Aoshi stood up and began pacing back and forth, his agitation
clear. “Milos was a pure blood. One of Pythagorus’ own sons. How can he be a ‘Made’? It
isn’t possible. He cannot be both... can he?” He stopped and turned a confused face to his
leader.

            “I have never heard of such a thing. Soujiro?” Hiko turned to stare at his son. “Is there
anything in the Archives? Has anything ever been recorded about such a blasphemy happening
before?”

            “No, father. Everything known to us says that a pure blood will die if bitten by a ‘Made’.
The two are completely incompatable.”

            “Maybe that is because that is what was always believed or assumed. No one ever knew
for sure.” Kaoru stood up and walked toward the door. “Whatever the truth is, Kenshin needs to
know about this as soon as possible.”

            “Yes. You should leave now so that you can reach him before daylight.” Hiko checked
his watch and nodded. “It is getting close to four-thirty. That only leaves you about and hour
and a half. Two hours at the most if we have fog this morning, so go, go now and may The
Mother go with you.”

            “Thank-you, father. May The Mother be with us all.”

TBC

Thank you to everyone who took the time to leave me a review. Thank you to everyone who is
reading. I promise next time, K/K waff and romance. KnT
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Do You Want To Live Forever?-New Chpt 10-6-5