The Parties

July 1, 1863.

The American Federal Army and the Confederate Army fought a decisive battle at Gettysburg. The South suffered a crushing defeat, with nearly thirty thousand dead. The initiative in the war had shifted entirely to the North, and this battle became the turning point of the Civil War.

"The young master sent a telegram saying he can't come celebrate the victory with you just yet. He has something important to take care of in Edmonton first. The victory at Gettysburg has practically decided the war. We won't play much of a role in the battles to come, either. Once the young master has taken care of his business, he'll go to Washington to meet with you," Jack Pitt told President Lincoln.

"Nothing's happened to James, has it? Was he wounded?" Lincoln asked anxiously.

Jack smiled, reassuring the president, and said lightly, "The young master is fine. He has other matters to deal with, though I don't know the details. There's one more thing the young master told me I had to pass on to you: Adam escaped. It was badly wounded and may need a long time to recover completely. But you must be careful. It may be scheming in secret."

Lincoln nodded slowly. The war was all but decided, but he still had to guard against the stubborn enemy and the surviving vampires seeking revenge.

"Give James my regards," Abraham Lincoln said solemnly.

"I'm grateful for the Howlett Family's help—not just personally, but on behalf of all America. The country and its people will remember the hope and support you brought us during these brutal years. Words are too feeble to express my gratitude. I look forward to meeting Mr. Howlett before long."

Edmonton, beneath the Howlett Estate.

"Are you really all right?" James asked, still eyeing Victor strangely as he wolfed down his food.

Victor swallowed his last bite of steak and growled irritably, "What stupid thing are you on about now?" He grabbed the napkin from the tray and wiped his mouth with a few rough swipes. "The war isn't over yet. There are plenty more fights ahead. Why'd you have to come back now? If you wanted to come home to be with a woman, why'd you drag me along?"

"You were bitten." James stared seriously at Victor, studying the whites of his eyes and his skin.

"I've been bitten plenty of times!"

"Adam's different."

"Yeah, right!" Victor sneered dismissively. "So you locked me underground and sealed the stone door?"

James gathered up Victor's used dishes, looking somewhat apologetic. "I didn't lock you up. It was... a quarantine. For your safety and the safety of everyone on the estate."

"Ha! Who knows what weird words you're making up now," Victor cursed in his gruff voice. He strode to a nearby water basin, grabbed a bucket, and gulped down its contents.

After that night's battle, Adam had barely managed to escape, its body in tatters. Judging by its condition, those wounds were beyond what a vampire's healing abilities could easily recover from.

And after seeing Victor get bitten, James had grown terribly concerned that the bite might cause unpredictable changes to his body and mind.

Without giving Victor a choice, he had brought him back by force. They'd fought fiercely several times, until Victor, beaten to the brink of death, finally gave in. He returned to the estate and spent many days underground.

What puzzled James was that Victor showed no unusual symptoms. James had also asked Marcus, the vampire imprisoned in the dungeon, about the process of turning into a vampire after being bitten. But Victor showed no aversion to ordinary food, nor any extreme thirst for blood. His physical features hadn't changed, either: no blood-red eyes, no sharpened teeth or claws. Well, Victor had always had sharp teeth and claws.

Looking at the claw marks scattered around the training room and the steel training equipment that had been torn to shreds, James sighed and said in a seemingly casual tone, "You should be... fine now. You can go."

Victor glanced at James in surprise, snorted heavily a few times, then strode away. As he turned his back, a glint of red flashed in Victor's eyes and vanished.

"Jack! Come here! And where's O'Hara? O'Hara! Where's that girl run off to now?" Vane, the butler, clutched a telegram and hurriedly fumbled with his monocle, calling for Jack Pitt and O'Hara.

"Jack, get some people together right now. Send Lauren and Chris to Victoria Harbour in Vancouver, O'Hara!"

"Coming, Uncle Vane!" O'Hara yawned. James no longer needed her help with his daily routine. That was mostly because of his unusual sleeping habits and the fact that he often trained underground at the estate, so O'Hara had started getting up later and later.

"Where's the young master? Go get him here, quickly!" Mr. Vane said crossly to O'Hara. Seeing her tilt her head curiously, he added seriously, "We've heard from Daniel."

James looked at the telegram in his hand, sent from the British resource port in Kenya, Africa. The message wasn't long, but he read it carefully for a long time before looking up at Vane. "Have people already been sent to Victoria Harbour?"

"Yes. As soon as I saw the telegram, I arranged for Jack to take some people there."

James thought it over, then said gravely, "That's not enough. Speak with the governor's office and ask the British government to send word, so the local people can protect them. Then send a telegram to the White House in my name and ask Mr. Lincoln for help directly. Have the American government use diplomatic channels to strengthen its ties with the relevant local authorities in Kenya. If Washington has any resources in Africa, ask them to send people to escort Daniel, too."

After hearing this, Vane hurried out of the room. James glanced at O'Hara and murmured, almost to himself, "Nothing can be allowed to happen to Mr. Daniel on his way back."

Mrs. Elizabeth had always been in good health, but her mental state had been unpredictable over the years. Just past fifty, she was the matriarch of the Howlett Family. She should have been attending aristocratic banquets and social gatherings with the wealthy and powerful, but she had lived in seclusion for years. Many outsiders didn't even know that Mr. James Howlett's mother was still alive.

The Howlett Family had long been one of the biggest estate owners in Canada. Since James had expanded into industry, manufacturing, real estate, and mining across North America, then risen to prominence during the Civil War, the family of colonial landowners founded by William Howlett had become a behemoth spanning the continent.

Yet the most honored lady of such a family rarely went anywhere besides church or an orphanage, dressed plainly and doing charitable work. When her mind was unwell, she could only rely on a few maids to care for her, shut away in her room.

Mrs. Elizabeth no longer lived with James and the others in the estate's original mansion. A few years earlier, James had built her a separate house beside the newly expanded castle. Since leaving the old mansion, her moods had become much more stable.

The rain was heavy tonight. She hated rainy nights; they reminded her of unpleasant things.

Elizabeth lay tossing and turning in her velvet four-poster bed, unable to sleep for a long time. She thought she heard a noise at the French doors leading to the balcony and wondered irritably if the maids had forgotten to close them. She pulled back the corner of her blanket and turned to look.

An impossibly tall giant stood on the balcony, so huge his head seemed almost to brush the ceiling. He stepped into the room, wearing a coat. Rain had soaked his disheveled long hair and trickled down his body.

CRASH! CRACK!

A flash of lightning streaked across the sky, illuminating the giant for an instant. It was Victor.