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Description
Berlin, Germany - Twenty years ago.

A heavy rain descended on the streets of Berlin, a wet chill working its way into the marrow of those pedestrians unfortunate enough to be caught in the deluge. The slick streets reflected illuminated lampposts; cars speeding by displaced water with their windshield wipers swinging like a metronome keeping time with the rhythm of life. For several months, it seemed neither sun, nor moon, shone the same way it once had, but that could have been Karl Wagner's perceptions conspiring against him.

Either that, or he had been working too hard lately.

Digging his hands into the pockets of his heavy, wool trench coat, Karl continued walking toward a large estate nestled deep in the heart of the city. His cheap, brown loafers splashed in puddles, soaking his feet while a sigh escaped his lips. It produced a billow of steam which mingled with the rain. As Karl lifted his eyes from the dirty sidewalk to the wrought iron gates protecting the largest vampire nest in Berlin, a frown tugged at the corners of his mouth. It might have only been months, but it felt like years since the world was the way he remembered it. He feared it would never be the same way again.

Karl couldn't be sure when it started, because the earliest reports all formed a steaming pile of conjecture on his desk. It wasn't until an injured seer sat across from him weeks later, cigarette dangling from his shaky fingers, that Karl realized some of the rumor was truth. "They were old vampires," the seer said, his hands continuing to tremor, his emerald eyes wild as they took in everything and nothing all at once. He drew from the cigarette again. "All congregated together. I swear one of them resembled a vampire I shot through with my crossbow five years ago, but that's impossible." A wild laugh escaped his lips. "Vampires don't coming back from the netherworld. Ashes to ashes and dust to dust, right?"

The thirty-five year old sorcerer frowned, assuring the younger man that vampires, in point of fact, did not return from the grave no matter how old they were. As the next few nights passed, however, he found the limits of his imagination being tried. Another seer carried in on a stretcher screamed of the world ending. His watcher's body had been found mutilated three kilometers away. Spray painted on the wall next to where her broken, bloody remains were deposited was the ominous message, 'Though many died, many yet remain. The Grim Reaper awaits.'

The Supernatural Order began to panic.

Never, in recent history, had they faced such a surge in antagonistic vampire activity and with each wave of death came the call for all available personnel to report to Europe before the situation got out of hand. The full might of the Order descended on the continent like a flock of eagles with wings spread in valiant glory, bearing weapons and wielding supernatural powers. Karl himself a sorcerer, he looked at each young, eager face with jaded eyes, imagining one of them sitting in his office, a cigarette shaking in their hand and a story of the dead walking drifting past their lips.

One night, Karl did the unthinkable. He left the office with little more than the coat on his back and walked up to the gates of the oldest vampire coven in Berlin.

Karl had nothing rehearsed when he approached the front doors, escorted on two sides by vampire guards who glanced at him every thirty seconds as though this was some kind of a joke. Karl shot them a half-hearted smirk and took a deep breath, entering the halls and gazing at the largest collection of immortals he had ever seen under one roof. Flanking a long corridor, they watched in solemn silence while Karl marched the entire length of the house, toward the back where the master's private quarters laid. He felt each set of eyes along the way.

The guards looked him over one final time before opening the door and motioning for him to enter. Karl nodded, hands digging into his pockets and his heart racing with sound and fury while he stepped into what could only be deemed the lair of the enemy. The door shut behind him with eerie finality. Karl swallowed hard and walked a few paces further into what appeared to be a comfortable office, bereft of windows, but lit with a sparse collection of lamps and lined with bookshelves.

Standing beside one bookshelf was a tall man with hair so blond, it almost appeared white. His blue eyes scanned the spines of volumes, one hand lifting toward Karl with one finger held aloft. "Hold, one moment please," he said. "I am looking for something."

Karl raised an eyebrow and nodded, walking toward a desk. The moment his hand settled on the back of one chair, the vampire standing by the bookshelf interrupted him. "No, one of the other chairs. There is a cravat of brandy on the table if you would like to pour yourself a drink."

"Very well." Karl glanced at the other side of the large room, seeing a couch and two brown, leather chairs separated by a table. Situated on the table was a crystal cravat and two matching glasses. Karl strolled past a floor lamp en route to one of the chairs and settled into it, reaching for the brandy and filling the glass two fingers full.

He swirled around the contents, eyes fixed on the amber-colored liquid before tipping it back into his throat. The moment he lowered his hand, though, the tall vampire appeared before him, causing Karl to jump from the sudden appearance. The look in his eyes unnerved Karl. There was curiosity present, the rest of his body still while his gaze raised and lowered, studying Karl from head to foot. Finally, the vampire extended his free hand, the other hand wrapped around a old, leather-bound book. "Simon Kaufmann," he said. "I am the master of this coven."

"Karl Wagner." Karl touched the cool hand, shaking with a firm grip before pulling his hand away.

Simon nodded, walking to the free chair and settling in it. He placed the book beside him on the table and leaned his elbow on the armrest. Karl remained silent, regarding Simon while the coven master spoke. "Herr Wagner, I have to say that in my four hundred seventy years on earth, I have never entertained a member of the Supernatural Order in my private quarters."

Karl blinked. "How did you know I..." His words ceased abruptly when Simon raised an eyebrow at him. Karl nodded. "The eyes give it away."

"They do, indeed." Simon's brow relaxed, a grin surfacing. "I found it alarming when my second-in-command came to me, telling me one of the 'green eyed demons' found himself on our doorstep. When he told me you said you come in peace, I thought you might possibly be asking to be turned, but I can clearly see this isn't the case now."

The chuckle sprang from Karl's lips before he could stop himself. He forced himself to regain his composure, drinking back another swallow of his drink. "No, no..." He shook his head. "Not here to be turned, Herr Kaufmann."

"Simon. And don't worry." Simon's grin broadened. "I wouldn't have turned you anyway."

"Comforting to know." Karl finished his drink and set the empty glass on the table. His fingers itched for a cigarette, but he forced himself to refrain. "No, I'm here on personal business, so I don't even come representing the Order."

"Oh?" Simon settled back in his chair and folded his hands on his lap. "Why do you find yourself here tonight, then, sir?"

Karl indulged in a deep breath before sitting back in his chair as well. He glanced away, then looked at Simon again. "My people are dying," he said. "Brave young men and women who have had nothing but respect for the natural order. I report directly to one of the elders on the Berlin council and oversee the seers we send out into the field. Something is happening and I want to know what."

"Something happening?" Simon tilted his head, examining the mortal spellcaster again. "Explain, if you can."

Karl nodded, another draw of air settling in his lungs for lingering seconds, expelled once he had enough chance to organize his thoughts. "There are more vampires causing trouble than usual. The men and women on the field have been seeing strange things and there have been haunting messages left with the corpses of our watchers."

"And you come to me wanting to know if I have any idea why these things are happening?"

"Yes." Karl frowned. "I've been unable to figure out what could be behind this. Rumor has it this is happening across Europe."

A frown settled on Simon's face. He looked away, his eyes focused on the other side of the room for what seemed like interminable minutes before his gaze settled on Karl once more. "I say this to you only because I, too, respect the natural order. One does not live as long as I have without realizing the way things are and the way things must be." He nodded, an eyebrow lifting again. "Have you heard of the dead walking? The spectres of vampires visiting from the grave?"

Karl blinked, then nodded in response. "Yes," he said, his voice a whisper. "How did you know... ?"

"I, too, have heard of this." Simon paused as though orienting his thoughts. "Several other masters around Europe have been having similar problems, demands being exacted to aid these other vampires, threats when one refuses. Sometimes only reports of encounters with olden ones or ones known to have been killed." He sighed. "I didn't want to believe it and neither did so many who have brushed shoulders with this phenomenon, but if they are causing trouble with the mortals as well... ."

"Where did they come from?" Karl sat straight, leaning his elbow on the chair's arm rest. "Does anyone know?"

Simon shook his head. "You would have to ask the vampires causing trouble themselves... and I would wish you luck in that endeavor."

Karl nodded, sitting back in his seat again with a frown. His eyes traced across Simon, a fledgling notion springing to life the longer he regarded the aged vampire. Karl knew when he walked up to this building that night, he was risking both his life and the distinct chance he would be turned away from their doorstep with a laugh. That he hadn't been threatened might have been a miracle, but the fact that he was speaking so candidly with a vampire - a vampire, for the love of all things - left him with a distinct sense of awe. He raised an eyebrow, his posture relaxing a little. "Whether... or not this is the dead walking or the coming of the apocalypse, I must admit I'm very... surprised that a vampire would refuse to help a vampire."

An instant smile surfaced on Simon's face, followed by a hearty laugh. "Herr Wagner, while we care for the plight of our own kind, we don't necessarily accept everything they do. I, like you, don't know whether to believe these are creatures who were brought back to life, but as I told you before, I respect the natural order. I as much care about it as I do the well being of the vampires under this roof and would not help anybody trying to disrupt it."

"So then, the question remains," Karl said, a pensive look in his eyes, "Who are these vampires causing such a stir and what is it they want? If this isn't every vampire in Europe, we have to be specific about who we target." His gaze returned to Simon. "We have to find the source."

Simon nodded. "And you... might find others willing to help you," he said. The look in his eyes remained grave. "Other vampires. Other covens being troubled by this phenomenon themselves. Be careful who you trust and you could foster talks between your kind and mine for the first time in centuries."

Karl raised an eyebrow. Simon grinned at the response. "Think about it, Herr Wagner." Glancing at the table, Simon plucked the book from where he laid it and extended it toward the mortal spellcaster seated before him. "A gift of good faith, my friend. I have responsibilities I must see to, but so long as you continue coming in peace, you may continue asking me questions. You might find our two worlds are not so different at all."

The book found its way into Karl's hands just as the vampire master stood. Simon strolled toward the doors of his private quarters while Karl remained seated, eyes tracing over the cover and recognizing the English title printed on the front. A Tale of Two Cities. "Thank you," Karl said, looking up, but the surrounding room was now empty, as though the wind picked Simon Kaufmann up and dispersed him to the four corners of the world. It might have, for all Karl knew. The universe as he knew it had become completely redefined.

Karl returned to the darkened confines of his small office that evening more confused than he had been before. It suddenly seemed like he was asking the right questions, though. No more than a few days later, he approached the Berlin council with an idea. "Why don't we find the covens we know to be in keeping with the natural order... and request their assistance? Offer to assist them in return?" he asked. He scanned across each skeptical face. "Why haven't we before now?"

Nobody had a viable answer to the question. In fact, each elder looked, one to the other, for some proof such a thing had happened and everything went horribly awry as a result. As Karl Wagner stood his ground, he saw seven befuddled expressions glancing back at him when nobody issued any such argument. "You mean to say this vampire master spoke freely with you, without any threat of harm?" one female elder asked.

Karl nodded. A reluctant smile surfaced on his face. "He gave me a book and told me to be careful who I trusted. But he seemed more than willing to share information."

The council members nodded. The female elder spoke again. "Then, I grant you permission to continue your talks with him. We will explore the possibility of speaking to other willing coven masters."

With that, the meeting adjourned. Karl returned to his office and spied the book situated at the corner of his desk. Picking it up, he began to read, thankful for his fluent English as he thumbed through page after page of nineteenth century prose. By the time he went to bed, he felt settled enough about the situation that he slept his first sound sleep in what felt like an eternity. The next day dawned with the promise of peace on the horizon.

Peace, however, was to be fleeting.

At first the concept caught fire and ignited across Europe. Members of the Order, from seers to spellcasters, convened with other coven masters and elders who were once regarded enemies and nothing more. Karl returned to Simon's coven several times over many weeks and one time in particular found himself relaying favorable reports to the vampire with whom he had started to forge a friendship.

Simon grinned. Standing on a ladder in front of one tall bookcase, he rifled through each treasured volume and recited a quote. "So does a whole world, with all its greatnesses and littlenesses, lie in a twinkling star. And as mere human knowledge can split a ray of light and analyse the manner of its composition, so, sublimer intelligences may read in the feeble shining of this earth of ours, every thought and act, every vice and virtue, of every responsible creature on it."

Karl recognized the words from the book on his desk and grinned. "You love your literature, Simon," he said.

The vampire master chuckled. "Books are history, even the fictional accounts. They are time frozen in the form of words."

"I suppose you are right." Karl sighed, sitting at the edge of Simon's desk, looking up at him. "Never, in my wildest dreams, did I think there was any chance our races could convene together under an olive branch."

Simon nodded slowly. His facial expression sobered. "Sometimes, it is far easier for foes to remain foes even when they forget the reasons why. I'll make no excuses for my kind; we deserve the strong arm of the Order from time to time. I cannot begin to tell you how hard it is to oversee one coven full of immortals and keep them in line. An entire race..." Simon tsked and directed his attention toward Karl. "When things are running as they ought, with the spellcasters doing their appointed tasks and my kind minding the natural order, there is harmony. When either becomes too incensed with power and blindness, then all the world suffers for it."

A frown settled on Karl's face. Never before had he thought of what happened when the Order itself stepped out of line. Raising his hand to his head, he scratched his scalp and nodded. "I suppose the natural order does suffer when the spellcasters themselves are out of line."

"When either of us forget our place, there is disorder. Man or vampire." Simon sighed, brushing his hands off on his pants before climbing down the ladder. He alighted onto the floor and strolled closer to his desk. "This is why our races never speak. One or the other refuses to see the blood on their hands."

Karl snickered. "Blood. Ironic." Nodding, the slight curl of his mouth evened out. He looked away. "I hadn't ever thought of it that way, Simon."

Simon remained silent for lingering moments. Karl glanced back at him, raising an eyebrow at the vampire's stillness. His eyes appeared to be distant, someplace decades and miles away from there. "So many of us fail to, Herr Wagner," Simon said, speaking just above a whisper. He sighed, his gaze returning to Karl. "What matters isn't how many of us fail to think of it, but how many come to realize it themselves.'

"Perhaps." Karl sighed. "But is it the fault of the ignorant when so many conflicts might have been resolved had they come to understand the truth sooner?"

A soft smile touched Simon's lips. "It isn't the fault of the ignorant for not knowing what never has been taught. It is, rather, the fault of the learned for not teaching them."

Karl chuckled. "Perhaps so, Herr Simon." Situating both feet on the ground, he grinned. "I should get back to my office. I'm behind on my paperwork and the elders get irritating when things aren't done in a timely manner."

Simon chuckled. "Good night, friend. I hope your reports continue to be favorable."

"So do I." Karl nodded respectfully to the vampire master and turned for the doors to his private quarters. Rounding a corner, Karl dug his hands into his pockets and strolled for the exit, exchanging glances and pleasant words of departure with each vampire he passed along the way. 'Who would have thought, truly, a mortal spellcaster could stroll through an entire coven without so much as an ill glance directed his way?' He chuckled. The world seemed on the verge of a revelation and there he was, standing on the front lines to witness it all.

With a smile and an a whistle on his lips, Karl walked to the Berlin offices of the Supernatural Order and approached the front doors. Whimsy left its mark on each footstep and coated his fingers as he swung open a glass door and took his first few steps on the tiled floor. The moment the door swung shut behind him, though, the weight of the world came crashing down on to his shoulders.

The office was a flurry of activity. Karl raised an eyebrow. Everywhere, there were personnel running this way and that, each focused on a task as though the coming apocalypse had been announced while Karl was away. He stood frozen in place, eyes tracing across several seers who were armed to the teeth, swords, bows and stakes adorned on their person and a litany of watchers shuffling around beside them. Karl swallowed hard, his heart sinking. One seer raised his head from its bent position and looked at Karl, daring him to engage him in conversation.

Karl inhaled deeply and strolled to the seer, his feet suddenly feeling fifty pounds heavier than they had mere minutes ago. His facial expression turned serious, his eyes never leaving the seer the entire trek from front doors to halfway down the corridor. "Why are there so many of you here?" Karl asked once he was within earshot. He stopped just shy of the seer.

The seer furrowed his brow, brushing aside his long, black coat to reveal a sword by his side. He slipped his hand into a pocket. "You don't know?" he asked. "Haven't you been told yet?"

"No, and I will have somebody's job before the night's out for this." Karl folded his arms across his chest. "Tell me, since I seem to be the last person to know."

The seer sighed. He looked away, toward a dark-haired woman Karl could only assume was his watcher. "The London office demanded all of us return to our home councils. Several seers have been sent from the smaller cities with more promised on their way. The situation has become dire."

Karl blinked. "I wasn't aware the situation had changed at all."

"This was just decided upon last night by the High Council." The seer sighed and looked back at Karl. Karl saw genuine fear in his eyes. "The covens are turning against us. We have been given orders to infiltrate each coven and demand the capture of their masters and any antagonistic immortals they might be sheltering."

"What?!" Karl struggled to maintain his composure. "You'll start a bloodbath that way. You know these creatures do not take kindly to ultimatums, guilty or not."

"Yes, but they're going to have to comply. We've been given clearance to execute anybody who stands in our way." He furrowed his brow. "I'm surprised nobody has told you about this."

"As am I." Karl's eyes became distant, thoughts swirling around the impossible notion that such a heavy-handed order would go unannounced to him. He oversaw the seers and was the one responsible for knowing where each man on the field was at any given time. The more he turned around the absurdity in his mind, the more his stomach sank, until one of the council elders emerged from an office and shot Karl a look of distrust.

Karl frowned. 'They think I'm aiding and abetting the enemy. That's why nobody has told me.' He waited for the male elder to nod respectfully and disappear into another room before his eyes shot to the seer. "Come with me to my office and explain the situation to me."

The seer nodded. Together they strolled down the corridor, the vampire hunter sighing and glancing around before lowering his voice a few octaves. "As I said, the vampire covens have been turning against us. The London office says several people have died following false information leading to traps set by the vampires themselves. Dark magicians hiding in shadows. Someone even claims they were being coerced to turn immortal before they managed to escape."

"Coerced?" Karl frowned. "That's impossible. Everyone knows a coerced conversion always leads to disaster."

"I know, but some have disappeared, so these vampires might even be from the other bloodline." The seer frowned as they paused by the door to Karl's office. Karl fumbled for his keys while the seer continued. "We've never had to deal with the Lamiae before. Many of us are afraid of what might happen."

"The Lamiae are not behind this," Karl grumbled. "Any fool with eyes can see this. Dark magic brought some of the olden ones back to life and now the olden ones are toying with us. Just like they promised they would." Producing his keys, he pinched the correct one in two fingers and slid it into its lock. With a hearty twist, the lock disengaged and Karl had the door opened before tugging the key from the lock.

He flicked the lights on and walked over to his desk. "Doesn't anybody read my reports? I told the London office what information my talks with the Revenir have yielded. A prominent coven master in Berlin has verified reports of immortals labeled as deceased being reanimated somehow and causing trouble within the covens themselves. Carting immortals away and coming in with both guns blazing isn't going to scare whoever's responsible out of hiding. In fact, this is probably exactly what they want."

"You might be right," the seer said, his eyes transfixed on Karl as Karl walked around his desk and fell into his chair. He rested his hip on the corner of Karl's desk. "But these are our orders, direct from the London office themselves. And they have clearance from the United States. Anyone suspected of using dark magic or aiding those responsible for killing members of the Order are to be killed, regardless of which bloodline they belong to or how innocent they claim to be. The coven masters are our primary suspects, especially ones talking with members of the Order."

Karl's gaze shot to the seer. Immediately, he thought of Simon Kauffman and couldn't help but summon an image of the man bound in silver shackles, being beaten and interrogated while claiming innocence the entire time. He would be killed and his coven dismantled until the seers were certain none of the others were housing enemies of the Order. 'This is wrong. This is all wrong. We're sponsoring genocide. That's the end of all of this. Genocide. When we have always been careful who we killed and why. How could they be so foolish? The Lamiae, the Revenir, both targets when none of us know who these creatures are causing this trouble in the first place, or why for that matter.' Still, he remembered the look shot to him by the male council member. Karl frowned. 'They don't care because it's all the same to them. Wicked beings - vermin needing to be exterminated.'

Slowly, Karl's eyes skimmed across his desk until they came to rest on the leather-bound book given to him by the vampire master. He sighed, insane notions slipping into his consciousness, but ones he couldn't ignore. Karl couldn't stand by and watch this, washing his hands like Pontius Pilate. 'Heaven forgive me, this is going to mean my death.'

Karl looked at the seer and nodded. "Yes," he said, softly at first, until his words gained more conviction, no matter how fabricated the sentiment was. "If London and Seattle think this is the best course of action, then I suppose there isn't anything any of us can do to change things." He sighed and took the book in hand before settling back in his chair. His fingers slid along the spine idly, his eyes drifting away. "Somehow, I knew we were on the eve of destruction when all of this started. I suppose the last few weeks have been the calm before the storm." He took a deep breath and stood. "Excuse me, if you will, sir." Karl held up the book. "This was given to me by the vampire master I have been meeting with to gain information. If this is to be his last night on Earth, I think he would like to have one of his prized volumes back."

Karl walked to the door. The seer followed. "I can't let you go alone," he said. "I will accompany you."

Huffing a sardonic chuckle, Karl looked at the seer. "Regardless of our orders, I can assure you this master isn't one you'll have problems bringing in. He hasn't lifted a hand against me."

"No." The seer frowned. "I apologize, but I need to also make sure you don't intend to warn him."

Karl fought hard against the scowl which wished to surface. Company men, all of them, regardless of their misgivings. He couldn't blame the seer, he had once been like them, no matter how jaded he had become. "Very well," he said. "You will come with me." He forced a grin on his face, knowing it probably screamed of bitterness. "Keep me honest, if you must."

The seer nodded. Not a single word was exchanged between the two men as they left the office and strolled onto the streets of Berlin, headed for Simon's coven for what would be Karl's last meeting with his new friend. As they approached the door to the coven, it swung open and a perplexed guard studied Karl, then glanced at the seer standing beside him. "What seems to be the problem, Herr Wagner?" he asked.

Karl sighed when the brown-haired vampire looked his way again. "Please summon your master. I only need two minutes with him, to return something of his."

"Very well." The vampire shut the door and slipped inside the confines of the coven estate, leaving Karl with his guard and the silence of the night. Within a few minutes, the door opened again, and this time Simon appeared on the other side.

"What is it you wished to return to me?" the vampire master asked, offering the seer only a quick glance before looking to Karl once again.

Karl extended the hand with his book toward Simon. "I needed to return this to you, Herr Kauffman. If you could please take it so I can be on my way?" A frown tugged at the corners of his mouth when he saw the way Simon regarded him. Karl fought hard to figure out how to send a warning to Simon, but what could escape the notice of the seer? If he knew English, Karl would be unmasked and even if he didn't, he would at least be wise toward the covert message being relayed. Karl frowned, then decided upon the only course of action he could conjure.

At once, his eyes met Simon's. Karl's thoughts summoned a whisper he hoped the seer would not pick up with his telepathy.

"Get out of here immediately. Your life is in danger."

Simon blinked, then nodded slowly. Confusion filled his eyes, but his gaze indicated he received the message loud and clear. "Thank you, Herr Wagner, for returning my book to me." A melancholy smile surfaced. "You know how I like my books."

Karl smiled in much the same manner. A quote straight from the book in his hand drifted past his lips. "It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done."

"Yes, it is." Simon nodded, taking the book in hand, both men clinging onto it for a few lasting seconds as though exchanging a handshake. "Good evening, Herr Wagner. I hope to see you again soon."

Karl nodded, but said nothing else. As the door shut, the night seemed to swallow him whole, Charles Dickens his only companion as he stared at the closed door before him.

"The wind is rushing after us, and the clouds are flying after us, and the moon is plunging after us, and the whole wild night is in pursuit of us; but, so far we are pursued by nothing else."

'Here comes the storm,' he thought to himself. Then, Karl Wagner turned and walked into the cold embrace of Armageddon.

Description
Berlin, Germany - Twenty years ago.

A heavy rain descended on the streets of Berlin, a wet chill working its way into the marrow of those pedestrians unfortunate enough to be caught in the deluge. The slick streets reflected illuminated lampposts; cars speeding by displaced water with their windshield wipers swinging like a metronome keeping time with the rhythm of life. For several months, it seemed neither sun, nor moon, shone the same way it once had, but that could have been Karl Wagner's perceptions conspiring against him.

Either that, or he had been working too hard lately.

Digging his hands into the pockets of his heavy, wool trench coat, Karl continued walking toward a large estate nestled deep in the heart of the city. His cheap, brown loafers splashed in puddles, soaking his feet while a sigh escaped his lips. It produced a billow of steam which mingled with the rain. As Karl lifted his eyes from the dirty sidewalk to the wrought iron gates protecting the largest vampire nest in Berlin, a frown tugged at the corners of his mouth. It might have only been months, but it felt like years since the world was the way he remembered it. He feared it would never be the same way again.

Karl couldn't be sure when it started, because the earliest reports all formed a steaming pile of conjecture on his desk. It wasn't until an injured seer sat across from him weeks later, cigarette dangling from his shaky fingers, that Karl realized some of the rumor was truth. "They were old vampires," the seer said, his hands continuing to tremor, his emerald eyes wild as they took in everything and nothing all at once. He drew from the cigarette again. "All congregated together. I swear one of them resembled a vampire I shot through with my crossbow five years ago, but that's impossible." A wild laugh escaped his lips. "Vampires don't coming back from the netherworld. Ashes to ashes and dust to dust, right?"

The thirty-five year old sorcerer frowned, assuring the younger man that vampires, in point of fact, did not return from the grave no matter how old they were. As the next few nights passed, however, he found the limits of his imagination being tried. Another seer carried in on a stretcher screamed of the world ending. His watcher's body had been found mutilated three kilometers away. Spray painted on the wall next to where her broken, bloody remains were deposited was the ominous message, 'Though many died, many yet remain. The Grim Reaper awaits.'

The Supernatural Order began to panic.

Never, in recent history, had they faced such a surge in antagonistic vampire activity and with each wave of death came the call for all available personnel to report to Europe before the situation got out of hand. The full might of the Order descended on the continent like a flock of eagles with wings spread in valiant glory, bearing weapons and wielding supernatural powers. Karl himself a sorcerer, he looked at each young, eager face with jaded eyes, imagining one of them sitting in his office, a cigarette shaking in their hand and a story of the dead walking drifting past their lips.

One night, Karl did the unthinkable. He left the office with little more than the coat on his back and walked up to the gates of the oldest vampire coven in Berlin.

Karl had nothing rehearsed when he approached the front doors, escorted on two sides by vampire guards who glanced at him every thirty seconds as though this was some kind of a joke. Karl shot them a half-hearted smirk and took a deep breath, entering the halls and gazing at the largest collection of immortals he had ever seen under one roof. Flanking a long corridor, they watched in solemn silence while Karl marched the entire length of the house, toward the back where the master's private quarters laid. He felt each set of eyes along the way.

The guards looked him over one final time before opening the door and motioning for him to enter. Karl nodded, hands digging into his pockets and his heart racing with sound and fury while he stepped into what could only be deemed the lair of the enemy. The door shut behind him with eerie finality. Karl swallowed hard and walked a few paces further into what appeared to be a comfortable office, bereft of windows, but lit with a sparse collection of lamps and lined with bookshelves.

Standing beside one bookshelf was a tall man with hair so blond, it almost appeared white. His blue eyes scanned the spines of volumes, one hand lifting toward Karl with one finger held aloft. "Hold, one moment please," he said. "I am looking for something."

Karl raised an eyebrow and nodded, walking toward a desk. The moment his hand settled on the back of one chair, the vampire standing by the bookshelf interrupted him. "No, one of the other chairs. There is a cravat of brandy on the table if you would like to pour yourself a drink."

"Very well." Karl glanced at the other side of the large room, seeing a couch and two brown, leather chairs separated by a table. Situated on the table was a crystal cravat and two matching glasses. Karl strolled past a floor lamp en route to one of the chairs and settled into it, reaching for the brandy and filling the glass two fingers full.

He swirled around the contents, eyes fixed on the amber-colored liquid before tipping it back into his throat. The moment he lowered his hand, though, the tall vampire appeared before him, causing Karl to jump from the sudden appearance. The look in his eyes unnerved Karl. There was curiosity present, the rest of his body still while his gaze raised and lowered, studying Karl from head to foot. Finally, the vampire extended his free hand, the other hand wrapped around a old, leather-bound book. "Simon Kaufmann," he said. "I am the master of this coven."

"Karl Wagner." Karl touched the cool hand, shaking with a firm grip before pulling his hand away.

Simon nodded, walking to the free chair and settling in it. He placed the book beside him on the table and leaned his elbow on the armrest. Karl remained silent, regarding Simon while the coven master spoke. "Herr Wagner, I have to say that in my four hundred seventy years on earth, I have never entertained a member of the Supernatural Order in my private quarters."

Karl blinked. "How did you know I..." His words ceased abruptly when Simon raised an eyebrow at him. Karl nodded. "The eyes give it away."

"They do, indeed." Simon's brow relaxed, a grin surfacing. "I found it alarming when my second-in-command came to me, telling me one of the 'green eyed demons' found himself on our doorstep. When he told me you said you come in peace, I thought you might possibly be asking to be turned, but I can clearly see this isn't the case now."

The chuckle sprang from Karl's lips before he could stop himself. He forced himself to regain his composure, drinking back another swallow of his drink. "No, no..." He shook his head. "Not here to be turned, Herr Kaufmann."

"Simon. And don't worry." Simon's grin broadened. "I wouldn't have turned you anyway."

"Comforting to know." Karl finished his drink and set the empty glass on the table. His fingers itched for a cigarette, but he forced himself to refrain. "No, I'm here on personal business, so I don't even come representing the Order."

"Oh?" Simon settled back in his chair and folded his hands on his lap. "Why do you find yourself here tonight, then, sir?"

Karl indulged in a deep breath before sitting back in his chair as well. He glanced away, then looked at Simon again. "My people are dying," he said. "Brave young men and women who have had nothing but respect for the natural order. I report directly to one of the elders on the Berlin council and oversee the seers we send out into the field. Something is happening and I want to know what."

"Something happening?" Simon tilted his head, examining the mortal spellcaster again. "Explain, if you can."

Karl nodded, another draw of air settling in his lungs for lingering seconds, expelled once he had enough chance to organize his thoughts. "There are more vampires causing trouble than usual. The men and women on the field have been seeing strange things and there have been haunting messages left with the corpses of our watchers."

"And you come to me wanting to know if I have any idea why these things are happening?"

"Yes." Karl frowned. "I've been unable to figure out what could be behind this. Rumor has it this is happening across Europe."

A frown settled on Simon's face. He looked away, his eyes focused on the other side of the room for what seemed like interminable minutes before his gaze settled on Karl once more. "I say this to you only because I, too, respect the natural order. One does not live as long as I have without realizing the way things are and the way things must be." He nodded, an eyebrow lifting again. "Have you heard of the dead walking? The spectres of vampires visiting from the grave?"

Karl blinked, then nodded in response. "Yes," he said, his voice a whisper. "How did you know... ?"

"I, too, have heard of this." Simon paused as though orienting his thoughts. "Several other masters around Europe have been having similar problems, demands being exacted to aid these other vampires, threats when one refuses. Sometimes only reports of encounters with olden ones or ones known to have been killed." He sighed. "I didn't want to believe it and neither did so many who have brushed shoulders with this phenomenon, but if they are causing trouble with the mortals as well... ."

"Where did they come from?" Karl sat straight, leaning his elbow on the chair's arm rest. "Does anyone know?"

Simon shook his head. "You would have to ask the vampires causing trouble themselves... and I would wish you luck in that endeavor."

Karl nodded, sitting back in his seat again with a frown. His eyes traced across Simon, a fledgling notion springing to life the longer he regarded the aged vampire. Karl knew when he walked up to this building that night, he was risking both his life and the distinct chance he would be turned away from their doorstep with a laugh. That he hadn't been threatened might have been a miracle, but the fact that he was speaking so candidly with a vampire - a vampire, for the love of all things - left him with a distinct sense of awe. He raised an eyebrow, his posture relaxing a little. "Whether... or not this is the dead walking or the coming of the apocalypse, I must admit I'm very... surprised that a vampire would refuse to help a vampire."

An instant smile surfaced on Simon's face, followed by a hearty laugh. "Herr Wagner, while we care for the plight of our own kind, we don't necessarily accept everything they do. I, like you, don't know whether to believe these are creatures who were brought back to life, but as I told you before, I respect the natural order. I as much care about it as I do the well being of the vampires under this roof and would not help anybody trying to disrupt it."

"So then, the question remains," Karl said, a pensive look in his eyes, "Who are these vampires causing such a stir and what is it they want? If this isn't every vampire in Europe, we have to be specific about who we target." His gaze returned to Simon. "We have to find the source."

Simon nodded. "And you... might find others willing to help you," he said. The look in his eyes remained grave. "Other vampires. Other covens being troubled by this phenomenon themselves. Be careful who you trust and you could foster talks between your kind and mine for the first time in centuries."

Karl raised an eyebrow. Simon grinned at the response. "Think about it, Herr Wagner." Glancing at the table, Simon plucked the book from where he laid it and extended it toward the mortal spellcaster seated before him. "A gift of good faith, my friend. I have responsibilities I must see to, but so long as you continue coming in peace, you may continue asking me questions. You might find our two worlds are not so different at all."

The book found its way into Karl's hands just as the vampire master stood. Simon strolled toward the doors of his private quarters while Karl remained seated, eyes tracing over the cover and recognizing the English title printed on the front. A Tale of Two Cities. "Thank you," Karl said, looking up, but the surrounding room was now empty, as though the wind picked Simon Kaufmann up and dispersed him to the four corners of the world. It might have, for all Karl knew. The universe as he knew it had become completely redefined.

Karl returned to the darkened confines of his small office that evening more confused than he had been before. It suddenly seemed like he was asking the right questions, though. No more than a few days later, he approached the Berlin council with an idea. "Why don't we find the covens we know to be in keeping with the natural order... and request their assistance? Offer to assist them in return?" he asked. He scanned across each skeptical face. "Why haven't we before now?"

Nobody had a viable answer to the question. In fact, each elder looked, one to the other, for some proof such a thing had happened and everything went horribly awry as a result. As Karl Wagner stood his ground, he saw seven befuddled expressions glancing back at him when nobody issued any such argument. "You mean to say this vampire master spoke freely with you, without any threat of harm?" one female elder asked.

Karl nodded. A reluctant smile surfaced on his face. "He gave me a book and told me to be careful who I trusted. But he seemed more than willing to share information."

The council members nodded. The female elder spoke again. "Then, I grant you permission to continue your talks with him. We will explore the possibility of speaking to other willing coven masters."

With that, the meeting adjourned. Karl returned to his office and spied the book situated at the corner of his desk. Picking it up, he began to read, thankful for his fluent English as he thumbed through page after page of nineteenth century prose. By the time he went to bed, he felt settled enough about the situation that he slept his first sound sleep in what felt like an eternity. The next day dawned with the promise of peace on the horizon.

Peace, however, was to be fleeting.

At first the concept caught fire and ignited across Europe. Members of the Order, from seers to spellcasters, convened with other coven masters and elders who were once regarded enemies and nothing more. Karl returned to Simon's coven several times over many weeks and one time in particular found himself relaying favorable reports to the vampire with whom he had started to forge a friendship.

Simon grinned. Standing on a ladder in front of one tall bookcase, he rifled through each treasured volume and recited a quote. "So does a whole world, with all its greatnesses and littlenesses, lie in a twinkling star. And as mere human knowledge can split a ray of light and analyse the manner of its composition, so, sublimer intelligences may read in the feeble shining of this earth of ours, every thought and act, every vice and virtue, of every responsible creature on it."

Karl recognized the words from the book on his desk and grinned. "You love your literature, Simon," he said.

The vampire master chuckled. "Books are history, even the fictional accounts. They are time frozen in the form of words."

"I suppose you are right." Karl sighed, sitting at the edge of Simon's desk, looking up at him. "Never, in my wildest dreams, did I think there was any chance our races could convene together under an olive branch."

Simon nodded slowly. His facial expression sobered. "Sometimes, it is far easier for foes to remain foes even when they forget the reasons why. I'll make no excuses for my kind; we deserve the strong arm of the Order from time to time. I cannot begin to tell you how hard it is to oversee one coven full of immortals and keep them in line. An entire race..." Simon tsked and directed his attention toward Karl. "When things are running as they ought, with the spellcasters doing their appointed tasks and my kind minding the natural order, there is harmony. When either becomes too incensed with power and blindness, then all the world suffers for it."

A frown settled on Karl's face. Never before had he thought of what happened when the Order itself stepped out of line. Raising his hand to his head, he scratched his scalp and nodded. "I suppose the natural order does suffer when the spellcasters themselves are out of line."

"When either of us forget our place, there is disorder. Man or vampire." Simon sighed, brushing his hands off on his pants before climbing down the ladder. He alighted onto the floor and strolled closer to his desk. "This is why our races never speak. One or the other refuses to see the blood on their hands."

Karl snickered. "Blood. Ironic." Nodding, the slight curl of his mouth evened out. He looked away. "I hadn't ever thought of it that way, Simon."

Simon remained silent for lingering moments. Karl glanced back at him, raising an eyebrow at the vampire's stillness. His eyes appeared to be distant, someplace decades and miles away from there. "So many of us fail to, Herr Wagner," Simon said, speaking just above a whisper. He sighed, his gaze returning to Karl. "What matters isn't how many of us fail to think of it, but how many come to realize it themselves.'

"Perhaps." Karl sighed. "But is it the fault of the ignorant when so many conflicts might have been resolved had they come to understand the truth sooner?"

A soft smile touched Simon's lips. "It isn't the fault of the ignorant for not knowing what never has been taught. It is, rather, the fault of the learned for not teaching them."

Karl chuckled. "Perhaps so, Herr Simon." Situating both feet on the ground, he grinned. "I should get back to my office. I'm behind on my paperwork and the elders get irritating when things aren't done in a timely manner."

Simon chuckled. "Good night, friend. I hope your reports continue to be favorable."

"So do I." Karl nodded respectfully to the vampire master and turned for the doors to his private quarters. Rounding a corner, Karl dug his hands into his pockets and strolled for the exit, exchanging glances and pleasant words of departure with each vampire he passed along the way. 'Who would have thought, truly, a mortal spellcaster could stroll through an entire coven without so much as an ill glance directed his way?' He chuckled. The world seemed on the verge of a revelation and there he was, standing on the front lines to witness it all.

With a smile and an a whistle on his lips, Karl walked to the Berlin offices of the Supernatural Order and approached the front doors. Whimsy left its mark on each footstep and coated his fingers as he swung open a glass door and took his first few steps on the tiled floor. The moment the door swung shut behind him, though, the weight of the world came crashing down on to his shoulders.

The office was a flurry of activity. Karl raised an eyebrow. Everywhere, there were personnel running this way and that, each focused on a task as though the coming apocalypse had been announced while Karl was away. He stood frozen in place, eyes tracing across several seers who were armed to the teeth, swords, bows and stakes adorned on their person and a litany of watchers shuffling around beside them. Karl swallowed hard, his heart sinking. One seer raised his head from its bent position and looked at Karl, daring him to engage him in conversation.

Karl inhaled deeply and strolled to the seer, his feet suddenly feeling fifty pounds heavier than they had mere minutes ago. His facial expression turned serious, his eyes never leaving the seer the entire trek from front doors to halfway down the corridor. "Why are there so many of you here?" Karl asked once he was within earshot. He stopped just shy of the seer.

The seer furrowed his brow, brushing aside his long, black coat to reveal a sword by his side. He slipped his hand into a pocket. "You don't know?" he asked. "Haven't you been told yet?"

"No, and I will have somebody's job before the night's out for this." Karl folded his arms across his chest. "Tell me, since I seem to be the last person to know."

The seer sighed. He looked away, toward a dark-haired woman Karl could only assume was his watcher. "The London office demanded all of us return to our home councils. Several seers have been sent from the smaller cities with more promised on their way. The situation has become dire."

Karl blinked. "I wasn't aware the situation had changed at all."

"This was just decided upon last night by the High Council." The seer sighed and looked back at Karl. Karl saw genuine fear in his eyes. "The covens are turning against us. We have been given orders to infiltrate each coven and demand the capture of their masters and any antagonistic immortals they might be sheltering."

"What?!" Karl struggled to maintain his composure. "You'll start a bloodbath that way. You know these creatures do not take kindly to ultimatums, guilty or not."

"Yes, but they're going to have to comply. We've been given clearance to execute anybody who stands in our way." He furrowed his brow. "I'm surprised nobody has told you about this."

"As am I." Karl's eyes became distant, thoughts swirling around the impossible notion that such a heavy-handed order would go unannounced to him. He oversaw the seers and was the one responsible for knowing where each man on the field was at any given time. The more he turned around the absurdity in his mind, the more his stomach sank, until one of the council elders emerged from an office and shot Karl a look of distrust.

Karl frowned. 'They think I'm aiding and abetting the enemy. That's why nobody has told me.' He waited for the male elder to nod respectfully and disappear into another room before his eyes shot to the seer. "Come with me to my office and explain the situation to me."

The seer nodded. Together they strolled down the corridor, the vampire hunter sighing and glancing around before lowering his voice a few octaves. "As I said, the vampire covens have been turning against us. The London office says several people have died following false information leading to traps set by the vampires themselves. Dark magicians hiding in shadows. Someone even claims they were being coerced to turn immortal before they managed to escape."

"Coerced?" Karl frowned. "That's impossible. Everyone knows a coerced conversion always leads to disaster."

"I know, but some have disappeared, so these vampires might even be from the other bloodline." The seer frowned as they paused by the door to Karl's office. Karl fumbled for his keys while the seer continued. "We've never had to deal with the Lamiae before. Many of us are afraid of what might happen."

"The Lamiae are not behind this," Karl grumbled. "Any fool with eyes can see this. Dark magic brought some of the olden ones back to life and now the olden ones are toying with us. Just like they promised they would." Producing his keys, he pinched the correct one in two fingers and slid it into its lock. With a hearty twist, the lock disengaged and Karl had the door opened before tugging the key from the lock.

He flicked the lights on and walked over to his desk. "Doesn't anybody read my reports? I told the London office what information my talks with the Revenir have yielded. A prominent coven master in Berlin has verified reports of immortals labeled as deceased being reanimated somehow and causing trouble within the covens themselves. Carting immortals away and coming in with both guns blazing isn't going to scare whoever's responsible out of hiding. In fact, this is probably exactly what they want."

"You might be right," the seer said, his eyes transfixed on Karl as Karl walked around his desk and fell into his chair. He rested his hip on the corner of Karl's desk. "But these are our orders, direct from the London office themselves. And they have clearance from the United States. Anyone suspected of using dark magic or aiding those responsible for killing members of the Order are to be killed, regardless of which bloodline they belong to or how innocent they claim to be. The coven masters are our primary suspects, especially ones talking with members of the Order."

Karl's gaze shot to the seer. Immediately, he thought of Simon Kauffman and couldn't help but summon an image of the man bound in silver shackles, being beaten and interrogated while claiming innocence the entire time. He would be killed and his coven dismantled until the seers were certain none of the others were housing enemies of the Order. 'This is wrong. This is all wrong. We're sponsoring genocide. That's the end of all of this. Genocide. When we have always been careful who we killed and why. How could they be so foolish? The Lamiae, the Revenir, both targets when none of us know who these creatures are causing this trouble in the first place, or why for that matter.' Still, he remembered the look shot to him by the male council member. Karl frowned. 'They don't care because it's all the same to them. Wicked beings - vermin needing to be exterminated.'

Slowly, Karl's eyes skimmed across his desk until they came to rest on the leather-bound book given to him by the vampire master. He sighed, insane notions slipping into his consciousness, but ones he couldn't ignore. Karl couldn't stand by and watch this, washing his hands like Pontius Pilate. 'Heaven forgive me, this is going to mean my death.'

Karl looked at the seer and nodded. "Yes," he said, softly at first, until his words gained more conviction, no matter how fabricated the sentiment was. "If London and Seattle think this is the best course of action, then I suppose there isn't anything any of us can do to change things." He sighed and took the book in hand before settling back in his chair. His fingers slid along the spine idly, his eyes drifting away. "Somehow, I knew we were on the eve of destruction when all of this started. I suppose the last few weeks have been the calm before the storm." He took a deep breath and stood. "Excuse me, if you will, sir." Karl held up the book. "This was given to me by the vampire master I have been meeting with to gain information. If this is to be his last night on Earth, I think he would like to have one of his prized volumes back."

Karl walked to the door. The seer followed. "I can't let you go alone," he said. "I will accompany you."

Huffing a sardonic chuckle, Karl looked at the seer. "Regardless of our orders, I can assure you this master isn't one you'll have problems bringing in. He hasn't lifted a hand against me."

"No." The seer frowned. "I apologize, but I need to also make sure you don't intend to warn him."

Karl fought hard against the scowl which wished to surface. Company men, all of them, regardless of their misgivings. He couldn't blame the seer, he had once been like them, no matter how jaded he had become. "Very well," he said. "You will come with me." He forced a grin on his face, knowing it probably screamed of bitterness. "Keep me honest, if you must."

The seer nodded. Not a single word was exchanged between the two men as they left the office and strolled onto the streets of Berlin, headed for Simon's coven for what would be Karl's last meeting with his new friend. As they approached the door to the coven, it swung open and a perplexed guard studied Karl, then glanced at the seer standing beside him. "What seems to be the problem, Herr Wagner?" he asked.

Karl sighed when the brown-haired vampire looked his way again. "Please summon your master. I only need two minutes with him, to return something of his."

"Very well." The vampire shut the door and slipped inside the confines of the coven estate, leaving Karl with his guard and the silence of the night. Within a few minutes, the door opened again, and this time Simon appeared on the other side.

"What is it you wished to return to me?" the vampire master asked, offering the seer only a quick glance before looking to Karl once again.

Karl extended the hand with his book toward Simon. "I needed to return this to you, Herr Kauffman. If you could please take it so I can be on my way?" A frown tugged at the corners of his mouth when he saw the way Simon regarded him. Karl fought hard to figure out how to send a warning to Simon, but what could escape the notice of the seer? If he knew English, Karl would be unmasked and even if he didn't, he would at least be wise toward the covert message being relayed. Karl frowned, then decided upon the only course of action he could conjure.

At once, his eyes met Simon's. Karl's thoughts summoned a whisper he hoped the seer would not pick up with his telepathy.

"Get out of here immediately. Your life is in danger."

Simon blinked, then nodded slowly. Confusion filled his eyes, but his gaze indicated he received the message loud and clear. "Thank you, Herr Wagner, for returning my book to me." A melancholy smile surfaced. "You know how I like my books."

Karl smiled in much the same manner. A quote straight from the book in his hand drifted past his lips. "It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done."

"Yes, it is." Simon nodded, taking the book in hand, both men clinging onto it for a few lasting seconds as though exchanging a handshake. "Good evening, Herr Wagner. I hope to see you again soon."

Karl nodded, but said nothing else. As the door shut, the night seemed to swallow him whole, Charles Dickens his only companion as he stared at the closed door before him.

"The wind is rushing after us, and the clouds are flying after us, and the moon is plunging after us, and the whole wild night is in pursuit of us; but, so far we are pursued by nothing else."

'Here comes the storm,' he thought to himself. Then, Karl Wagner turned and walked into the cold embrace of Armageddon.