France - Dominic

It felt like stepping back in time, as if we had never left France, and I shivered with discomfort as I crossed the threshold to Lumiere's office. 

 "Welcome home, Loyson." 

 "Thanks?" 

 He gave me a sly smile. "You've been very busy."

 "I'm good at serving coffee; many clients appreciate my efficiency," I retorted to his great amusement. 

 The look he gave me made my skin prickle; it felt as if he was seeing right through me. "And how is Belmont?" 

 With a sigh, I walked over and sat on the edge of his desk, picking up a cigar from the box next to my thigh. I rolled the exclusive tobacco stick between my fingers while I pondered what to say. "He's stronger." 

 "Than?" 

 "Than ever," I stated confidently. 

 "I heard about your little—..."

 "It was a series of mistakes that we sorted out," I interrupted. 

 "Misstakes I sorted for you." 

 I lifted my gaze and met his eyes. "And how were you involved? Through Marianne?" 

 "She left without my consent, Dominic," he muttered, and I caught a glimpse of irritation on his face. 

 "But she still reported everything to you?" I asked, lighting the cigar. 

 Slowly, he stood up and walked around the desk, and soon I felt his hands resting on my shoulders, his mouth close to my ear. "She was worried about Belmont; he's more important to her than you think." 

 "She's like a sister to all of us," I replied. 

 "And Masson is like a brother to you, but he came back." He took a few steps around me so our eyes met again. "And Belmont—where is he?" 

 "I'd rather die than drag Belmont here," I replied calmly. 

 "I understand, so his love for our clockmaster—" he never finished the sentence, letting the words hang in the air so I could fill in. 

 "Do we even know if he's alive?" 

 "Yes." His simple answer sent a thousand emotions surging through me, and I struggled to push them all away. "Do you want to know more?" 

 "No." 

 "Why?" 

 "Belmont's relationship with Clocksworth is complicated," I muttered, inhaling a long drag nearly gagging on the thick smoke. Damn, I really didn't understand the appeal of cigars. "He left us, and Bel has done everything to forget him." 

 He nodded briefly, and I saw a glimpse of sympathy in his eyes, which was quite significant when I thought about it. Lumiere was hardly the type to show concern for any of us. "So you're here for Alexander's sake?" 

 "Tell me what I need to do," I said as I stubbed out the cigar, deciding never to smoke one again, before standing up and placing my hands on the table. 

 "You can help your brother with his assignments, and when you're done, you're free to go back," he replied with a smile that sent shivers down my spine. 

 
I had finally fallen asleep and was dreaming myself back to a place between Belmont and Conor in bed, and for once, I hadn't woken up from any nightmares during the night. But as the sky began to brighten, I jolted awake as the bedroom door opened and closed. 

Soon, I heard footsteps approaching the bed and someone sitting down beside me with a grunt. I opened a narrow slit between my eyelids and caught a glimpse of my guest. "Mass?" 

 "Are you naked or what?" 

I rolled my eyes and shook my head, and he immediately threw himself down among the sheets.

 "Lu is seriously the worst boss ever," he sighed, crawling closer until I was wedged against the wall. 

 "What has he asked you to do now?" 

 "Same old shit," he mumbled, only to get a smack to the back of his head from me. 

 "Isn't this what you missed?" I snapped. "You went home with Marianne and ranted about the boring life we chose." 

 "This wan't it," he muttered quietly, his lower lip jutting out. 

 Slowly, I stretched and laid my arms over my head. "So what is it you want? A pat on the head and a scratch under the chin?" I asked so sourly that I could see Masson's eyes watering. 

 "Drop it, Nic." 

 "Why?" I muttered. "I'm tired of babysitting," but I stopped immediately when it looked like he was about to cry. Something had happened, and I wanted to know what so I could storm into Lumiere's office and tell him to go to hell. 

 "He's crazy," Mass whispered, taking a deep breath. 

 "Lu?" I asked, feeling every muscle and nerve tense within me. 

 He nodded. "He made me kill every single one for him." 

 "Who?" 

 "Everyone." 

 I tilted my head and pulled Mass's hands away from his eyes so I could meet his gaze. "Everyone?" 

 "Every damn one who doesn't agree with him." 

 With a sigh, I leaned back against the pillows. "Fuck." 

 "He's no better than any of the others," Mass muttered in frustration. "He's worse because he's scared." 

 "You have a point," I continued, sitting up. "He's really bad at leading, and he knows it," I added. "That's why he's scared of losing everything and tries in panic to make everyone afraid of him."

 "So what do we do?" 

 "Nothing," I mumbled. "We wait and see what happens. Mass, let me know when you're going out next time." 

 "Why?" he replied sourly, glaring at me. 

 "Because I'm planning to tag along." 

He gave me a questioning look, and I shrugged. "You've done enough for that damn dictator, don't you think?" 

 He nodded briefly, and when I looked down at the guy lying on the bed, I knew he was on the brink of breaking. Everyone has a limit to what they can handle, and Mass seemed to have reached his. I leaned down over the bed and gently patted him on the cheek. "We'll get through this." 

"Boss..." I looked up at Masson as he jumped into the car next to me. 

 "You're so damn stubborn, Mass," I laughed and sighed dramatically at his choice of nickname. 

 "What? You've always been the one I listened to, and you always will be," he grinned, and I couldn't help but smile back. 

 "Sure, but don't say it when Lumiere is around." 

 He sighed heavily at the mention of his name, and I gave him a questioning look. "I think I hate him." 

 I raised an eyebrow before nodding at him to close the door so I could drive off, because you never really knew where his spies were lurking. 

"I asked him to give you a break from all the dirty work." 

 "I know," he muttered. "But is it better if someone else does it for me?" 

 I parked the car along the gravel road and gripped the steering wheel tightly. I wanted to say yes; my whole heart screamed that I should drive straight to the airport and take him home to Bel and Conor. All that killing wasn't good for anyone—not even Clock could handle it in the long run. 

 "There's something you should know." I turned off the engine and faced him, hearing the seriousness in his voice. "Lumiere is up to something." I furrowed my brows. 

"Something?" 

 He fidgeted in his seat, nervously fiddling with the buttons on the dashboard. "Something bad." 

 I grabbed his hand and forced him to sit still enough to meet my concerned gaze. "What, Mass?" 

He chewed on his lower lip for a moment before the words poured out. "He wants us to capture them alive." 

 "Who?" I asked in a stern voice. 

 "Humans," he muttered weakly. 

 "What the hell? What do you mean!?" 

 He quickly looked away, staring down at his feet while scratching the back of his head. "He's doing something with them." 

 I leaned my head heavily back against the headrest and closed my eyes. Of course, if he doesn't trust anyone, what options does he have? Newly created vampires are usually loyal to their makers. Thoughts whirled in my head, and I felt waves of panic, anger, and nausea fighting for space within me. 

 "Fuck," I sighed. 

 "It's bad, Nico," he continued. "Some can't handle the transformation." 

 I groaned loudly. "Is he creating Les Affamés?" 

 "Not exactly, but almost." 

 I rubbed my forehead and sighed. "Do you know where they are?" 

He nodded. 

"Show me." 

 We had been driving for an hour before Masson stopped the car outside an abandoned old mental hospital deep in the woods. The large white building loomed threateningly before us as he halted in the turnaround, and I shivered all over when I looked up at the barred windows. 

The garden was overgrown, and climbing plants covered large parts of the house; the whole area felt dilapidated and had probably been abandoned for a long time. I sensed it was a place that many people would prefer to forget. From what I had read in books, mental care was something entirely different back then, and I couldn't help but draw parallels to the torture that Clock and Mass had carried out. I shivered again. What the hell was Lumiere doing here? 

 "Nice place," I muttered, and Mass nodded with drooping shoulders. 

 "The inside is worse," he mumbled quietly, walking toward the wide stairs with slow steps, and I took a deep breath to gather myself before following him. 

 Inside the grand door, I immediately heard the sounds of anguished screams, silent weeping, and pleading voices, but there were also hissing and wheezing noises, and scratching sounds from claws against concrete. 

 "No Les Affamés, you said..." 

 Mass looked up at me and sadly shook his head. "They're different. More human." 

 "For some reason, that's worse," I shivered, and Mass nodded. 

 "It is." 

 We walked down the bare corridor that had once been bright white, but now large chunks were missing from the walls where the plaster had crumbled. Moss and mold had invaded every little scratch or tear, and it stank of old, stale dampness. I followed Mass and immediately noticed that he had no problems finding his way here, and the thought struck me, 

"How long has this been going on?" 

 "No idea; it was already a thing when I got back." 

 "Does Marie know about this?" 

He shrugged, "no idea." 

 We turned right, and the sounds grew louder and louder. Mass led us through an old common room that had a thick 1950s TV and a dirty little couch, a table with three overturned, rotting wooden chairs, and empty orange pill bottles scattered here and there. 

 We weaved between the debris and continued toward ward seven, and I suspected that this was where they kept the patients. As soon as we turned the corner, I spotted rows of doors with small barred glass windows. I peeked inside one and saw three guys wandering restlessly around inside. Someone had spray-painted a green tick on the door. 

 "What does that mean?" 

 Mass glanced at the door. "They're almost ready to go to the next building." 

 "What are they doing in there?" 

 "Training." I ran my fingers through my hair and shook my head; this was worse than I had imagined, but I suspected I hadn't even seen the worst yet. 

The next door had a spray-painted skull, and I could hear hissing sounds from inside, which could only mean one thing—monsters. 

 "Does he keep them?" I exclaimed, panic in my voice. 

 "I guess so." 

 "And what's with the red circle?" I asked, pointing at another door. 

 "They're dead," he replied tersely. 

 We turned into another corridor, and I could immediately smell the scent of humans and blood. With determined steps, I moved forward, trying to concentrate on breathing calmly, even as my instincts began to kick in. A few meters in, a door opened, and Max stepped out in front of us. Behind him, I heard desperate screams that abruptly ceased when the door closed. He looked up at me in surprise as I took a few steps closer. 

"Loyson? What are you doing here?" 

 "I asked Mass to show me what Lu is up to," I muttered, looking around, and with trembling legs, I realized that all the rooms contained humans waiting for Lumiere to show up and finish what Max and Mass had started. 

 Suddenly, I felt dizzy and grabbed the wall for support. I felt sweat running down my back, and my legs were shaking. "Lock the doors, Max," I heard Mass say before I felt his steady arms around my waist. "Come on, I know a shortcut." 

 "Damn, Mass, this is bad," I muttered as I tried to concentrate on the scent of his cologne instead of the disgusting stench of rotting flesh. 

 "Lu has gone too far," he said dryly, tightening his grip on me as if he could sense my struggle with the impulse to run back, tear open the doors, and let out all the poor people who were locked up against their will. 

Fortunately, he knew the building well, and his shortcut was accurate, and soon we stumbled out onto a wild, overgrown yard. "You know we have to stop him," I whispered, letting my arms wrap around his shoulders so I could rest my chin on his shoulder. 

 "How? We can't do this alone, Nico." 

 I nodded jerkily against his cheek and took a few deep breaths of the fresh air. "I know." 

 He took a step back and examined me worriedly. "Are you feeling better?" 

 I nodded with a faint smile on my lips, and I saw him relax a little more, but something weighed on him, and I suspected what he was about to say. "We can talk to Clock," I raised an eyebrow questioningly and ran my hand through his hair. "Marie says she has seen signs that he is in town," he explained. 

 I bit my lip and pulled him closer. "I don't know if that's the right option, Mass; he might be even worse than Lu." 

 With a sigh, he tightened his grip on my waist. "Do we have a choice? Lu is playing mad professor; you haven't even seen half of it," he sighed, and I heard his voice tremble. "He's experimenting with humans and vampires, bro; what he's creating is a new type of Les Griffes." I felt his body shudder, and I hugged him tighter. "It's like something out of a horror movie in there." 

 I closed my eyes and nodded. "Okay, I'll try to get in touch with him, but I need to talk to Bel first." 

 "Are you sure about that?" 

 I shook my head as our eyes met. "No, but I want us to survive this, and Clocksworth is probably our only chance." I took a firm grip on his shoulders and stared intensely into his eyes. "And when this is over, you come home with me, okay?" 

 He nodded and smiled, but we both knew that neither of us could predict the future. Our lives were anything but normal.

I sat with my feet up on Lumiere's desk, comfortably leaning back in the chair when he walked into the room. He abruptly halted in the doorway when he saw me. 

 "Dominic," he said, with a hint of irritation in his voice. 

 "Where's Clocksworth?" I asked directly as I looked up at him. 

 "How should I know?" he muttered in response, but I answered just as quickly, 

 "Because you have connections." 

 He nodded briefly and stepped closer just to sit on the desk beside my feet. "But he apparently doesn't want to be found." 

 "Marie says otherwise," I stated coldly. 

 He licked his lips and studied me intently. "Why do you want to contact him?"

 "Because we have things to discuss."

 "Like what?" 

 I took my feet off the desk and stood up so he had to look up at me, praying to all the gods that he wouldn't see through me. "I love Belmont," I began hesitantly, "and I don't want him to suddenly show up like a jack-in-the-box and ruin his life just as it's finally getting better again. He's happy over there, but last time Clock came after him and forced him back here." 

 Lumiere tilted his head, and I saw the wheels turning in his mind. I knew he would see through a lie, but this was a truth even if I was withholding the bigger reason. To my great relief, he must have realized that I was speaking from my heart because he leaned forward and wrote down an address on a post-it note that he handed to me. 

 "I hope you get what you're after." 

 I glanced down at the note and saw an address. "Thanks." 

 But just as I was about to leave, he grabbed my wrist and stopped me. "I hope you're doing this for your and Belmont's sake; I would hate it if Clocksworth got involved in my business." 

 I let out a short laugh and looked up at the ceiling. "I have a feeling that Clock isn't keen on getting involved in our lives, Lu; why else would he have stayed away for so long?" 

 He released my arm, and I started walking toward the door. "You look happy when you talk about Belmont; are you sure you know what you're getting into?" 

 "Don't worry, Dad," I teased, "I'm a big boy now." But inside, I wasn't as calm. 

 Ten minutes later, I'm on the phone with Belmont, and his persistent voice was drilling holes in my head. 

"I'm coming. Tomorrow; I've already checked a flight. There's no point in you trying, Nic." 

 With a deep sigh, I send the address of the house where Clock should be before I hung up, wishing I had never called. 

At the same time, I knew the chances were greater that Clock would help us if it was Belmont asking. Damn, what a fucking mess. 

 Before I fell asleep that night, I sent a message to Conor; I'm keeping an eye on him; you know that. 

It didn't take long before I got a reply; I know. Look after yourself too. 

Suddenly, I wished he was on his way here too. My fingers moved quickly as I sent another; See you soon.  

 With a smile on my lips, I read his response; Only promise things you can keep, Sweetheart.  

My reply was short but honest; We're coming back.