Vampires do not feel the cold. But I could tell by the way Carver shivered that he was suffering from the mass of snow and ice around us.
'Do you not have anything warmer?' I asked.
The vampire-slayer-turned-researcher turned to me, scarves piled up to his nose, which was very obviously blue. He had possibly around eight layers on, all soft, cosy and very warm. But still, he shivered. He tried to say something, but it only came out muffled underneath his two hats, ear muffs and scarves.
'I guess not,' I responded cheerily. If someone had been standing with us at that time, perhaps they would have known something was odd about the pair of us. Especcially as we were standing in the middle of fair England, and one of us was dressed in only a pair of jeans, a t-shirt supporting the band "Death and Blood" and a pair of old trainers. I did not wear a hat. The mass of constantly falling snow created one for me.
I gazed back up at the ancient castle, its towers tall and crooked, the masonary crumbling in many areas. Its whole architecture resounded gothic and screamed "vampire" to the four winds. True-to-myth, able to die and sleep vampires, that is.
'I still don't get why we are here,' Carver at last managed to struggle his way out of the fabric and wool, raising his chin as high as it would go to be heard.
I shrugged, 'Medes said it had to do with his children.'
'What, can't he deal with them on his own?'
Slowly I breathed, then tossed my head to rid myself of the "emo" fringe that cascaded over my eyes. It was easy in this century to be able to dress like a vampire, and still get away with being human.
'Because their leader has just been killed, and his heir dethroned, his whereabouts currently unknown.'
'Ah, and because you are an expert in getting rid of pretender monarchs, he asked you to help with this bloody mess.'
I did not choose to answer. A bloody mess it certainly was.
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