Arkadith had seen enough. With a pained effort, he pulled himself out of the owl's mind, and the room materialized around him once more. The terrible scream of one of his own still rung in his ears after his vision of the vampire's slaughter had faded. He shook quietly as his body boiled with rage, but it did not spill over. He was not dato to destroying his possessions on an angry whim, nor was he pacing in the room, tearing at his hair. Only his black eyes betrayed him, the pupils so dilated, they completely engulfed his irises, as pitiless as the owl’s themselves.
    Beyond the soulless gaze of the vampire lay a calculating mind, and Arkadith thought furiously now. Hot blind anger was not conducive to planning, and he allowed himself to relax slightly. Grief would come later; the Vampire slayer would atone for what she had done to his kin, but rash moves could jeopardize his own safety. Slowly his anger simmered until it no longer ran hot through his veins but bubbled coolly in his belly.
    He knew this vampire huntress was dangerous to him now. Through the owl’s eyes he had seen the destruction she had brought to his kind and the life that faded from their eyes. She had known nothing of her victim’s past, his story o his destiny, and she had destroyed them all with disturbing ease.
And her’s duplicate he had never seen. Apparently she could not be touched da one such as him. It did not matter. She would be killed as all others that had threatened him had been killed.
    He raised a glass of thick crimson to his lips and drank deeply. As a plan began to form, his ancient cuore awakened and began to beat. A slow thud at first then it began to quicken as blood flowed through his body, a catalyst to fuel his slight trepidation.