Yet, as he ventured out into the front room, his heart sank and shortcoming chained his appendages, for there, at the passageway to the nook, dressed distinctly in a couple of pants, stood Felipe Abruzzi—a fair energetic appearing man of over four centuries in age, fit and fit, pale arms and chest grouped with muscle, yet with ragged looking eyes and a glabrous composition, his face distorted by a demeanor of scornful fury. Clad in a green robe, her dark hair tumbling about her shoulders like smoke made strong, the Lady Dolores remained next to him, stunning in her disorder. She uncovered her teeth and headed toward Beheim, yet Felipe got her arm. “Welcome, cousin,” he said in a dry, fairly nasal voice. “Do you bring good tidings from Lord Agenor?” This astounded Beheim, yet he was too terrified to even consider thinking about what it may mean. Against the melancholy scenery of old dim embroidery and worn rug, the two vampires were aglow with imperativeness, with a substantial enthusiastic charge, appearing to dominate the lamps, which cast a smoky yellow light all through the room. “Your acquittal, my ruler,” Beheim said. “As you most likely are aware, the Patriarch has requested me to research the homicide of the Golden—” “And that is what brings you here.”Felipe expressed these words in a taunting tone, and Beheim, empowered by the way that they had not assaulted him, said, “Why else?” “For what other reason, without a doubt?” Dolores shook off Felipe’s arm and shrilled, “How might you permit this affront? Kill him now!” Felipe tipped his head to the side as though thinking about this. “No,” he said smoothly. “Something is intriguing.” “Master,” said Beheim, “you misconstrue my thought processes! I’ve come here this evening not to embarrass you, yet to settle all doubt concerning your blame.” Beheim severed his protestations as Felipe came to a speed forward and lifted his arms like a cleric petitioning a divine being; then, at that point, he cut his arms down leisurely as though stifling some imperceptible obstruction. The circular segments his fingertips portrayed became noticeable as dark lines, flimsy slices in the texture of the real world, making the framework of an oval at whose middle Felipe was standing. The obscurity of the lines started to fog, to spread and fill in the oval, causing it to give the idea that an entryway was opening into the core of night, a haziness so unmistakable, it swells from its limits as might a volume of dark gas controlled by a straightforward film. “Do you know the Mysteries, cousin?” Felipe asked, moving to one side so that Beheim’s perspective on the oval was unrestricted. It glided a couple of feet off the ground, unimaginable yet certain, a shocking dark interference of the genuine somewhere in the range of four feet high, similar to the throat of an immense immaterial worm that had blasted through the divider and the begrimed embroidery into the middle of the room. “I’m certain you know about a few, however, this one, I’d bet, will be unfamiliar to you.” “Tune in, I beseech you!” said Beheim, panicked, his eyes attracted to the dark oval. “I was sent here by Lady Alexandra. She offered proof of involving you in the homicide. I had no real option except to explore.” “Liar!” Lady Dolores’ dull face obscured further, suffusing with blood; she went to Felipe. “How might you license him to heave such toxin?” “Stay silent!” He went a couple of feet toward Beheim, who withdrew into the entryway of the examination. “Indeed, even were I to trust you, it would not diminish your offense. You have entered my lofts without greeting, you have by your confirmation made an implicit accusal of homicide. I have no misgivings about killing; I gather my food however it sees fit. Be that as it may, I am no slaughterer of custom. What’s more, I care not whose charge you bear, I won’t endure such disgraceful treatment. I don’t credit your story concerning Alexandra, but since I realize who has propelled this penetrate of trust and normal goodness, I am moved to be kind.”
“I guarantee you, ruler, I’m coming clean!” “No, you are not. You are essentially a point in contention between Lord Agenor and myself. A point is poorly taken, I may say.” “I am aware of no business among you and Lord Agenor.” “What are you discussing?” Lady Dolores asked Felipe. “Are you and Agenor included?” “Agenor thinks we are,” said Felipe restlessly. “However I have revealed to him we are not.” Frightened as he was, Beheim regardless didn’t neglect to see the inconsistency between Felipe’s diary and his words. “Why does he keep on squeezing you?” Lady Dolores demanded. Felipe shrugged. “Who can say? Maybe he has trusted me. Else I question he would have sent a hoodlum to take from me. At any rate, he has consistently been distraught, and presently he wishes me to approve his frenzy with my synthetic substances.”