The abbey stood in a valley of dead trees. Stone walls wept rust-colored vines. No birds sang. No wind stirred.
"This isn't natural," Lucien whispered. His surgeon's instincts recoiled. "Silence like this… it's a symptom."
Élise clutched the vial of sunlight. Her white hair felt like a shroud. "Mother said Václav was just a pawn. Who's 'V' really?"
A figure emerged from the abbey's shattered doors. Tall. Hooded. Face hidden in shadow. "Viktor sends his regards," it hissed—a voice like grinding glass.
"But Viktor's dead!" Lucien protested.
The figure laughed. "He was my apprentice. Like Václav. Like your mother." It threw back its hood.
Noface. Just swirling crimson mist where features should be.
"I am Vesper. First Alchemist. Creator of the Blood Perfumes. The Dubois women have carried my gifts for centuries." Vesper's mist-hand pointed at Élise. "You wasted yours. Burned your power to save mortals."
Lucien stepped forward. "What do you want?"
"Completion."Vesper drifted closer. "Anya's blood birthed you, Élise. But diluted. Weak. I need it… concentrated." The mist solidified into a blade. "Your heart. In exchange, I spare your lover and sister."
Élise laughed bitterly. "You'll kill them anyway."
"True." Vesper lunged.
Lucien shoved Élise aside. Vesper's blade sliced his arm. Blood hit the soil—and screamed.
The ground split. Skeletal hands clawed up. "Vampire alchemy," Lucien gasped. "He turns blood into soldiers!"
Élise uncorked the sunlight vial. Threw it. Liquid gold splashed Vesper's chest.
He shrieked. Mist boiled. But he didn't dissolve. "Fool! Sunlight only fuels true alchemists!" He absorbed the light—glowing like a small star.
Lucien tackled Élise as Vesper unleashed a blast of searing energy. The abbey's outer wall vaporized.
Scrambling over rubble, they found a hidden lab. Walls lined with glass coffins. Inside: generations of sleeping Dubois women. All white-haired. All drained.
"Vesper's battery farm," Élise realized in horror. "He's been harvesting us for centuries."
One coffin held Anya'sbody. Perfectly preserved. A rose-gold machine siphoned fluid from her chest.
Vesper appeared in the doorway. "I kept her fresh. Her blood still sings." He stroked Anya's coffin. "Yours will sing louder."
Élise touched her mother's glass. Felt a faint pulse. Alive?
Vesper raised his blade. "Time to join the family collection, Élise."
Lucien threw himself at Vesper. "Run!" They grappled. Mist versus mortal.
Élise didn't run. She smashed Anya's coffin. Plunged her hands into the machine siphoning her mother's blood.
Scent Memory: Anya's lullaby. Warm milk. Wool blankets. She pushed every memory she had of mother into the alchemy fluid.
The machine overloaded. Blue fire erupted. Vesper howled as the flames consumed him— "NO! MY LIFE'S WORK—"
The ceiling collapsed. Lucien dragged Élise back as Vesper and the Dubois women vanished under tons of stone.
Outside, dawn bled across the valley. Élise sobbed into Lucien's coat. "She's gone. Really gone."
He held her as the abbey burned. In the ashes, one thing gleamed: A single crimsonrose. Unharmed.