MY SUGAR MUMMY IS A BEAUTIFUL VAMPIRE

Reggie let out a low whistle. "Welcoming, isn't it? Makes you just want to pop in for tea."

Randal elbowed him, but there was a hint of a smile on his face. The joke, weak as it was, helped ease some of the tension.

As they passed the inner castle, oddly, there were no knights insight.

Approaching the main entrance, Blake reached for the large door handle. Before he could grasp it, the gate swung open with an ominous creak. Standing before them was Marlowe's knight stood there.

The vampire was tall and rail-thin, with skin so pale it was almost translucent. His armour was pristine, not a crack or speck of dust to be seen. But it was his eyes that caught Blake's attention - milky white and seemed unseeing, yet somehow giving the impression that they missed nothing.

"Good morning," the knight said, his voice as dry as ancient parchment. "How may I assist you?"

Dumphries stepped forward, bowing slightly. "Good day. We seek an audience with lord Marlowe. Tell him, Dumphries the forger, is outside,"

The knight's eyes seemed to study them for a long moment. "Just a moment, please," he said finally, turning and gliding back into the house with unnerving grace.

The companions exchanged nervous glances as they waited. Minutes ticked by, feeling like hours.

Finally, the knight returned. "My lord would like to see you now. Please, follow me."

They were led through a grand entrance hall, their footsteps echoing on the marble floor. Portraits of stern-faced vampires lined the walls, their eyes seeming to follow the group's progress. Randal muttered something about "creepy dead guys," earning an elbow from Reggie this time.

The living room they were shown to was a study in opulence. Rich velvet drapes blocked out most of the sunlight, leaving the room in comfortable dimness. Antique furniture, each piece probably worth more than everything they owned combined, was arranged around a massive fireplace.

They had barely settled into the plush armchairs when they heard footsteps on the stairs. Marlowe entered the room with the fluid grace of a predator, his ageless face betraying nothing of his thoughts.

"Gentlemen," he said, his voice smooth as silk. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this... unexpected visit?"

Dumphries cleared his throat, his expression grave. "Lord Marlowe, we've come seeking your aid in a matter of great urgency."

Marlowe's eyes narrowed slightly, a faint smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Oh? And what matter brings such an... eclectic group to my doorstep?"

"We need your help to save a life," Dumphries continued, his voice steady despite the tension in the room. "An old friend of mine is suffering from a rare blood disorder. It's causing them to lose their vampiric abilities. We've exhausted all other options."

Blake stepped forward, introducing himself. "I'm a specialist in blood magic. We believe a small sample of blood from a vampire leader like yourself might be the key to completing a ritual that could save our friend."

Marlowe leaned back in his chair, his gaze sweeping over each of them in turn. "Intriguing. And why, pray tell, should I care about the fate of some vampire I've never met?"

Randal spoke up, his voice filled with barely contained emotion. "Because we're asking. We know it's a lot to request, but we wouldn't be here if it wasn't absolutely crucial."

"We're putting our reputations on the line coming to you like this," Reggie added softly. "We know the risk, but we're out of options."

Marlowe's expression remained impassive, but there was a glint of curiosity in his eyes. "You're either very brave or very foolish to make such a request. Perhaps both." He paused, studying them intently. "Tell me more about this... friend of yours."

Just then, Randal produced a text from his pocket, handing it over to Marlowe. Dumphries looked genuinely baffled as he saw the paper manifest.

He took the text, examining it with practiced ease. "Interesting," he murmured. "Very interesting indeed."

Marlowe's seemed to have been locked in on the piece of paper. Not blinking or taking his eyes off it. Reggie and Randal exchanged quick glances. It appeared the shadow inscribe had taken its full effect.

Blake's heart was pounding. This was it. Their chance. Reggie had whispered their back up plan to him along the way and he was on board. Anything to get that blood for Rose. He nodded imperceptibly to Reggie, who produced a small, sharp blade from his sleeve.

But just as Reggie was about to make his move, Marlowe spoke without looking up from the text. "I wouldn't do that if I were you, young man. My senses are far keener than you might imagine. This....trick, should I call it won't work on me.

At least they would have if I didn't have my mind sealed off a long time ago from compulsion seeing what Dravena was able to do to the entire city with her last order,"

The room froze. Their plan, so carefully crafted, lay in tatters.

Blake felt a surge of desperation. They had come too far, risked too much, to fail now. Without thinking, he stood up abruptly, his chair scraping loudly on the floor.

"Enough!" he shouted, his voice echoing in the cavernous room. "We don't have time for this!"

Marlowe raised an eyebrow, setting the text aside. "My, my. It seems our little charade has come to an end. What, pray tell, is so urgent that it drives you to such... rudeness?"

Blake's fists clenched at his sides. "It's my wife, Rose. She's dying, Marlowe. We need your blood to save her."

A cunning smile spread across Marlowe's face. "Ah, so the truth emerges. I had my suspicions, you know. So, Rose has always been... special to you. But tell me, why my blood specifically?

What makes you think it holds the key to her salvation?"

"There's no time for questions!" Blake snapped, his patience wearing thin. "Will you help us or not?"

Marlowe leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. "My dear boy, you can't simply barge into an elder's home and demand their blood. It's not... civilized."

Blake felt his control slipping. The thought of Rose, growing weaker by the day, of Celena watching her mother fade away... it was too much. "Civilized?" he snarled. "I'll show you civilized!"

He lunged forward, fangs bared, but Marlowe was faster. With a wave of his hand, Blake found himself frozen in place, unable to move.

'What is this?! Isn't he a shelly?! His ability should be the same with both Rose and Elena's, right?!'

"What's that? Shock?! You don't understand do you? Well I'll help you cure your curiosity. I'm not the one doing this. One of my knight's stationed outside who has a unique trapping ability is the one currently holding you" Marlowe said with amusement.

"Tsk, tsk," Marlowe said, rising from his chair. "Such impetuousness. It's clear you're desperate, but that's no excuse for poor manners."

The other companions tensed, ready to spring into action, but Marlowe's next words stopped them cold.

"However," he continued, circling Blake's immobilized form, "your plight intrigues me. Rose has always been... unique among our kind. Her condition must be truly dire if you're willing to risk so much."

He snapped his fingers, and Blake found he could move again. He stumbled, caught off guard by the sudden release.

"Perhaps," Marlowe said, a glint in his eye, "we can come to an arrangement. My blood doesn't come cheap, you understand. But I might be persuaded to help... for a price."

Blake's heart raced. This was unexpected, but it might be their only chance. "What kind of price?" he asked warily.

Marlowe's smile widened, revealing the tips of his fangs. "Oh, nothing too onerous. Just a small favor. A task that only someone of your... unique talents could accomplish."

The room was silent, tension thick in the air. Blake exchanged glances with his companions. They had come this far, risked everything. Could they afford to trust Marlowe? Could they afford not to?

"What kind of task?" Blake asked, his voice hoarse.

Marlowe's eyes gleamed with an emotion Blake couldn't quite place. Amusement? Hunger? Something else entirely?

"Tell me, Blake," Marlowe said, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. "How far are you willing to go to save your beloved Rose? Would you betray your own kind? Would you risk plunging our world into chaos?"

Blake swallowed hard, feeling the weight of Marlowe's words. Whatever the vampire lord had in mind, it was clear the stakes had just been raised exponentially.

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