[SILVER RAYNE WILLIAMS]

The back entrance is dark and no one is in sight. There is a singular lamp post, where the car has stopped but it's light is dim, and looks as if it needs to be replaced, flickering in the breeze.

My curls toss gently in the wind and I have to push them away to see better.

I am curious that there are no guards, anywhere for that matter, and for a moment I feel like I'm being smuggled.

Though part of me feels unsafe, I know this is to my advantage.

My gaze shifts to Lord Graydon as he opens the car door for me. I walk towards it, pausing for a moment, my breath short, staring into the darkness within.

My heart beating slightly harder within me accompanied by a tight constriction in my chest.

But this was not the time for dilly-dallying.

He had won.

At least, he had to believe that he had.

That I was somehow going against my own stubborn nature and cooperating.

Pursing my lips, my gaze flashed to Lord Graydons, before taking the bag off my shoulder, putting it in. I was about to follow but before I could, his hand clasped around my arm tugging me back abruptly.

We were close, so close I was sure he could feel my harsh breath whenever I exhaled.

His eyes were fastened in mine.

He let go of my arm, seemingly confused at his action, shaking his head and pinching the bridge of his nose, taking a step back.

"I- uhm.." he trailed off, pausing for a moment as if trying to compose himself.

My heart beat wilder within me.

It was working but he was wasting time.

I noticed the lofty look in his eyes when they shifted back to mine, but he blinked a few times, as if trying to clear them.

His gaze narrowed down on me, pursing his lips, "I-" he paused.

I held a breath, watching him.

"I will give it to her," he managed to speak, nodding to himself.

He seemed, disoriented.

His gaze met mine once more, and they paused, becoming softer. Dashing from my eyes to lower—

And I felt the urge to hide my lips, pursing them.

His eyes returned to mine, "I mean to say...It will be delivered."

I noticed his tone was gentle, laced with assurance.

My gaze dropped to the glittery envelope in his hand, then back to his eyes.

"I give you my word," he continued quietly.

I clenched my jaw not knowing what to think of it, but I nodded anyway, "Right. Thank you."

His eyes kept mine hostage, simply staring.

My hand became sweaty at the silence and I opted to finally enter the car once more.

"Silver, I-"

I turned back to him at those words, surprised the conversation had not ended, and just in time to catch him swaying as he lost his balance so abruptly, It was simply by instinct, a mere reflex, that I lent him my strength.

A hand against his chest and another his waist, I held him up slightly.

Lord Graydon's hand slammed against the car door, keeping him from squashing me beneath his weight and we are both breathless at the fast action.  My eyes are wide, unexpected at the action.

He curses, lifting himself slowly, off my shoulder, but he does not pull away from me instantaneously, instead, he pulls away just enough, that are noses brush, and his eyes are stuck in mine.

I am awestruck, frozen at this and he sighs, leaning his forehead against mine.

"Forgive me, I do not...." he trails off, and he seems to have lost his trail of thought but he still does not pull away.

I think it is because he is weaker, and the hysteria is working. Fogging his mind.

Slower than I expected.

Damn it.

I nod, trying to balance him straighter so at least Calvin who is seated in the front seat is not too suspicious.

Not yet.

Lord Graydon's eyes close, open, and close once more, and he exhales.

He opens them again, licking his lips.

"Sliver, I wish...I wish to visit you. When I come back to my region. I want to see you again," he breathes, and pauses, "May I?"

My eyebrows arch at his request.

The nonsense spilling out of his lips concerns me.

He must be able to think clearly at least for the next minute before he is allowed to become fully delirious.

Time is ticking, and now is not the time for thinking for alternatives, especially when he is becoming heavier by the second.

"Silver?" he asks, his eyes are cloudy and he squints as if to see me better.

His tone is breathy and he leans in closer, "Say yes."

I stare up at him, searching his eyes. His lips brush my cheek and he sighs, and the hairs on my body rise.

This is not ideal. It is not a kiss. He is just to close that his lips skim across my cheek when he shifts and exhales.

Any moment now. Please be faster.

This was not ideal.

I push him backward gently so he can regain his stance and though his gaze is lofty and his eyebrows arch slightly at my reaction, he is stable.

My hand returns to my backstraps, "It is...nice of you, but no. I would prefer you don't."

His eyes harden in mine. Eyebrows draw together.

"I do not need any reminders of this place," My gaze shifts to the Fang Court behind him and his follows.

"I would rather forget," I add looking back at him.

His gaze is still on the night Court before it returns to mine.

I manage a small but firm smile, "Goodbye, Lord Graydon."

I enter the car, grabbing my bag and shift to the end, staring straight ahead as if I am ready for the journey, for what is to come next.

My heartbeat is faster but more steadier than the shake in my gloved hands.

I hope it's too dark for him to notice.

I feel his eyes studying the side of my face, and inwardly count down until the doors slam closed.

My body stiffens at the loud sound, gaze shifting to the figure of lord Graydon as he walks to the driver's window, his face peers through.

"Straight to the Airfeild, Cavin."

"Yes, my lord."

His gaze meets mine, a tick in his jaw but he steps backward, a hand behind his back and the car starts.

My heart is relieved when we start. I can finally take a breath, although it is short-lived.

I glance at Calvin. His gaze remains focused, driving ahead.

My hands are shaking as I turn around and spot Lord Graydon's figure. He is still standing there, watching, but his hand reaches for his head and he sways forward once more.

I quickly retrieve the vial hidden in my jacket, marked hysteria.

I had never used this vial before, but I knew quite well what it was capable of. I still remember my father's in-depth explanation as I stirred and mixed solutions beside him.

Hysteria was a glittery substance designed to be both alluring and induce confusion that eventually led to a level of complete disorientation.

Targeting a Fang's central nervous system, it specifically affected areas of the brain responsible for sensory perception, cognitive function, and motor coordination. It could either be applied or inhaled.

To a human, merely touching Hysteria could lead to passing out immediately and in worst case scenarios even a full fledged comma, Hence why I was sure to wear gloves.

Strangely, however, accidentally inhaling the substance had little to no side effects to human as if a Fang was to inhale it.

It was because they were highly sensitive. So even the slightest whiff could affect their central nervous system.

And Lord Graydon had certainly taken a good whiff.

He was already in the first stage.

Confusion.

According to the instructions, it could last a total of forty-five minutes. But I remember that this was meant for ordinary Fang. Because Lord Graydon is a high Lord, it could only take half of that, or less, once it fully kicks in.

And then, well...and then I have a serious Vampire problem.

I hope to be gone before that happens.

My throat runs dry but I have no choice but to reignite my courage.

I glance at Calvin once more, noting his eyes remain focused on the task ahead. I quickly pop the lid open, pouring just a pinch of the silver flakes into my enclosed, gloved fists.

I closed it carefully, tucking it back in my jacket and slowly shifting to the middle of the car. I rubbed my hands together, ensuring that the flakes caked into my glove.

My eyes flashed to the mirrors, watching as lord Graydon's figure staggered farther—

He was shaking his head more. Rubbing his eyes...

Good. Stage two-

Any minute now.

He staggered backward, his hand leaning against the lamp-post.

I glanced at Calvin, then Lord Grayson's figure, clearing my throat quietly.

"I-Is Lord Graydon alright?" I asked.

Calvin grunts in response, "What sort of question is that?"

"I ask because it looks like he's staggering."

Calvin sighed but glanced at his side mirror and I prayed a short prayer.

As if magic, stage two takes effect and Lord Graydon loses all balance, sliding to the ground, back against the post and as if by clockwork, the car screeches to a stop.

My jaw drops at the sight, eyes wide and my voice is masked in worry, "oh my God! I-Is he alright?"

Calvin does not reply, immediately getting out of the car, that he leaves running.

In a second he has super-sped to Lord Graydon. I watch all this but waste no time smearing the glittery specks around the wheel and the key.

I look behind and then glance at my watch.

In about 2 minutes judging by Lord Graydon speed reaction, he will reach stage three and I will have less than 20 minutes to implement my plan.

I was already sweating, watching as Calvin tried to help Lord Graydon up but Lord Graydon retained no balance.

I could see he was realizing something was terribly wrong with the Lord Select.

In a moment, he's supersped back to the car and opens the door.

I am quick to ask questions. But he answers none.

I keep my eyes on him and pray he touches the wheel or takes out the keys but he does no such thing, opening a glove compartment instead, that reveals packs of blood.

My jaw tightens at the sight, as he grabs some packs, slams the door, and super speeds back to Lord Graydon.

My heart is beating fast. Shit.

Blood has the potential to reverse the effects.

I cannot wait any longer.

I need to go. I had to go, but I needed to distract him somehow if I could not get him to touch or inhale the hysteria.

Glancing one more time, I notice Lord Graydon's movements have become less, indicating stage three was dawning.

His reaction time was slower than I anticipated.

Even though his senses were stronger than those of ordinary vampires, his stronger immune system  seemed to have aided him.

I feared I might not even have twenty minutes.

I opened the door, closing it quietly. But before I can even take a step, Calvin returns.

He is back with the wind.

With him is full packs of blood. Untouched.

I take note of this, clasping my bag tighter, freezing, but pretend to be simply concerned.

"Is he better?"

Calvin opens the car without responding and a sense of relief dawns on me when the car stops running.

He's taken out the key.

The doors slams shut. His gaze flashes to mine.

"Lord Graydon appears to be too weak to feed."

My heart slows at the response, but I muster a look of worry, as he sniffs, a hand touching his nose, then sliding through his hair, and he seems slightly distraught and perhaps worried.

I feel for him- only to the extent that having a sick High Lord on his hands was questionable. True Borns were supposed to be immune to practically everything.

But what Calvin did not know was, this was not a disease.

"H-Has he not been feeding?" I ask.

His gaze falls on me and whilst it isn't unkind it seems answering questions is not what he desires to do right now.

"I'm taking him inside. He needs rest. You must wait here till I return."

I nod, pursing my lips.

His gaze lingers on mine. and I notice how lofty it becomes.

It's working faster this time. Makes sense. Calvin is ordinary.

He staggers forward and I hold him up.

He shakes his head and I know stage 1 has set in.

"Are you alright?" I ask.

He nods pushing off of me, but he takes only one more step before the balance sets in.

I manage to reel him in, "For heavens sake, Stop! Just rest here. You seem to be weak. Perhaps it's contagious. Sit." I urge, guiding him back to the car door.

He staggers but he manages to open it.

I glance at Lord Graydon's figure. He is seated, leaning against the lamp post like a weeping widow, his head has drooped down, his hair falls over his face and for a moment my chest constricts at the sight of him.

But the feeling dissipates and I glance at my watch. Vella was more important. I push my glasses back up my nose.

It begins now.

I waste no time guiding Calvin in and he slips faster than Lord Graydon.

"I-I'll get help," I call, knowing he can barely understand me now, and I slamn the door shut.

I immediately look at my watch, setting a timer.

My gaze slants in the direction of West House.

Here goes nothing.

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