chapter two

clandestine

Seoul. Winter, 2007.

Glistening cold rays of the sun waltzed themselves through the large, bay windows to the entire golden-encrusted penthouse – allowing the tranquility of a winter afternoon radiate the entire room. The indistinct sound of soft pitter-patter coming from the master bedroom had once again echoed throughout the quietness of the suite. The thirteen-year-old had been running back and forth from her bedroom to the living room, just to take a short glance of her own reflection on the large, gold ornate mirror located near the grand piano.

Krystal drew her breath in relief as she stood there, scrutinizing her own reflection – she looked rather pleased this time, after all the apparent discontent she had in her eyes after trying on the previous two gowns her cousin had picked for her. He should’ve known me better, the young adolescent had previously bantered in disappointment – the edges of her rose-tinted lips formed a whimsical, little smile as she smoothened invisible creases on the white silk of her Dior dress.

Her long, cascading locks was the very color of the midnight sky, along with her snow-tinted skin and rosy lips, Krystal had always emanated an aura which most of the young adolescents her age didn't possess – the serene yet dreadful sense of her nature as well as her gracious elegance, along with her frightening calmness during the most arduous times of her life; Krystal was the very epitome of a quote, “Some people grumble that roses have thorns; I am grateful that thorns have roses.”

“I can already hear you laughing in excitement for the umpteenth time even from a distance, Krys,” a silky, yet rather thick voice drifted into her ears. Krystal’s pair of brown eyes seemed to have dilated as she saw a familiar reflection of a boy on the mirror. “You seem to be quite a narcissist for your age, aren’t you … sister?” Lucas snickered, taking a step toward her.

His slim build was clad in a faded gray shirt, along with his favorite Armani brown vest and dark yellow tie – he was lavishly garbed in a Lanvin white suit, complimented by the neatly folded brown handkerchief in his coat’s pocket. His brown hair handsomely slicked back, pale complexion veiled by none other than his pair of menacing brown eyes. Krystal had known him throughout her entire life, she often presumed him as his savior – it was presumably the reason why he was one of a few people she trusted.

Krystal dryly raised her eyebrows, slowly turning around. “That’s not a very nice thing to say, brother … and, no, I wasn’t laughing, in fact, I was smiling so big that you could’ve seen it even from a distance!”

The younger’s comment spread a smile on Lucas' seemingly audacious façade. If there was anything that Lucas' was notorious for other than his glorious, quick-witted mind and his infamous status of being a Casanova, was his family itself. Lucas' father was the president of Shun Group – which had been at the head of China’s elite as the prominent crest of the rich and impervious – and his dear little Krystal was not exactly his sister, in fact, Krystal was his cousin who had been taken under Huang Lu Xue’s wings ever since her parents’ death eight years ago.

And whenever he saw that crafty gaze of hers, he still saw the very eyes of the scared little Krystal who had always depended on him the day she first came to Beijing.

“Going for the Jay Gatsby’s style, aren’t you? A very slick move, I must say, Lucas. Who do you want to impress this time, hm?” Krystal’s lips formed a knowing smile, glancing at him from the corner of her eyes as she, once again, smoothed the invisible creases on her dress. “Ah, you must be targeting for that girl. She is quite famous for liking The Great Gatsby so much. What’s her name again? Bae Cindy?”

The seventeen-year-old emitted series of animated laugh, as he approached her slowly. “It’s Bae Irene, Krys. Why do you keep getting her name wrong, anyway?” Lucas turned his perfectly upright nose up in the air, diverting his attention back to his own reflection on the mirror. “Besides, I’m not interested in her anymore. It’s no longer a new thing to know that she has her eyes on that younger fellow … your precious lover, I suppose?”

She could feel her insides churned and stirred, but her eyes did not bat. Krystal kept a calm composure, despite the fact that the butterflies had reached . “You mean, Kai? The last time I heard, Hwang Tiffany has this thing going on with that JY Group heir, Jung Yunho, I suppose?” Krystal responded immediately, with an equal tranquility in her melodic voice – she was already familiar with Lucas' mundane dull, sarcastic remarks along with his little games, after all – an enthralling smile formed along the edges of her carmine lips. “Moreover, Choi Kai and I don’t have that kind of romantic relationship between us, Lucas. For once, please stop speculating things, will you? It’s not good for your own well being.”

“Whatever you say, Krystal,” Lucas chortled, glancing at her as he tried to imitate her rather glacial expression. He smirked at her before he sat on the nearest armchair, leaning his back against the silken seat whilst flipping through Krystal’s newly purchased Teen Vogue.

A tense air surrounded her usually poised demeanor, stuffing her with an unusual jittery feeling. Lucas gazed at her inquisitively, watching her every move – sensing the sudden change in the air encircling his precious younger sister.

“Don’t lie,” he said firmly, and Krystal’s attention was diverted to none other than her abrasive brother, Lucas. A mischievous smirk formed at the edge of his lips as he rose from his seat, “I have been reading a lot of books here and there, Krystal … and I’ve taken a whole lot of interest in psychology,” he cleverly asserted, pattering her shoulder. “There is a whole science dedicated to detection of lying by observing one’s body language, Krys. You can lie to everyone else, but me.”

Krystal’s eyelids shot upward, her pair of brown orbs and her infamous cutting gaze fixated upon Lucas' cherubic features. If he hadn’t known her his entire life, if they hadn’t spent so much time together, Krystal would have effortlessly fooled him with her seemingly apathetic façade, but that was not the case. Lucas had known Krystal throughout her entire life; he would sometimes took her place in getting the punishment from his father, Huang Lu Xue, even when it was her who disobeyed the rules, he had always been aware of Krystal’s past – and Krystal would occasionally think that Lucas might have been her blood brother in her past life.

Krystal emitted a few soft chuckles as a sign of her defeat. “You really got me this time, Han. I will never lie to you ever again.”

“Children?” a firm voice piped up, and all attention instantly directed to the addition of a family member into the room. The distinct sound of Huang Lu Xue’s gold-encrusted cane against the marble floor echoed throughout the silent suite – the sound pierced into Krystal’s ears; she was not particularly fond of that very sound, for it brought back the memories of her and Lucas being punished by their father for not obeying the rules … for being weak in front of others.

Her persistent restlessness and agitation were evidently seen right through her pair of brown eyes. Lucas could feel his sister’s constant jitters and discomfort, and he knew that it would not please Father to see his daughter in such state, particularly when he had a remarkably high expectations for her to be perfect in every aspect, including her ability to contain her emotions and to remain impassive in every situation, no matter how frightened or agitated she was.

Lucas, on the other hand, had perfectly grasped that particular concept of being able to suppress one’s emotions. However, despite his masklike features and his rather bleak expression, along with his seemingly conceited demeanor, the petrified little Lucas would always exist in a very small part of himself – if he had been on his right mind eight years ago, he remembered Krystal had always been a fast learner, albeit, Father used to favor her more than him. Aside from the fact that Krystal was considered as a prodigy, her life seemed to have gone out of control ever since her memories came back three years ago.

That year, Lucas remembered autumn ended with a gentle snowfall accompanied by a sharp winter air …

He clenched his fist when he saw a figure of a young girl dressed in a grey woolen trench coat stood before two tombstones, his father had convinced him to leave her be for a while, he remembered Father said it was time for her to get back the memories she lost as a child; the memories of her parents’ death. The fourteen-year-old Lucas had told his father that he had no right to force Krystal to remember, for it would bring back her back to her traumatic state. But, Huang Lu Xue had given his orders, and Lucas had no choice but to obey.

A morbidly tumultuous downpour of agonizing memories regarding her parents’ death made its way back into her mind, gushing away all masks she was wearing to conceal her true emotions – the sudden deep pain that pierced right through her whole being was terribly excruciating, she felt as though the entire universe had come crashing down on her, and she collapsed to her knees.

Lucas never particularly know the little details concerning the death of Krystal’s parents, he was too young to understand, and so was his adopted younger sister. All that he knew was that Krystal’s family was murdered, and she was the only survivor – and now, with two bodyguards by his side accompanied by the tall figure of Huang Lu Xue standing before him, Lucas had to watch her struggling from the memories she was forced to remember.

No matter how many times the fourteen-year-old attempted to convince his father not to do it, Lu Xue refused to hear any of his son’s foolish talk – Lucas, had never lost control of his temper, particularly in front of his father. Contrasting to his mischievous younger sister, Lucas was considered as Lu Xue’s most obedient child. However, for the first time in fourteen years, he allowed the anger consume his mind; his movement was very immediate as his sense of protectiveness toward his younger sister heightened. He rushed to her, only to be forcibly dragged back into his initial position by his father.  

 “Just let her be, Lucas. It’s time,” his father’s words pierced into his ears.

“It’s time? It’s time for what, Father, if I may ask? To destroy her?” Lucas refuted, his pair of brown eyes reflected an enormous amount of hatred and animosity. Huang Lu Xue’s firm gaze kept staring down over his only son, despite the fact that Lucas' words had glinted dagger into his eyes. “How could someone let a ten-year-old child sit there crying in front of her parents’ tombstone without doing anything? How could you be so inhumane, Father?”

Lu Xue tightened his grip on him. “They are claiming her in three days,” he gritted his teeth in contempt as he pushed his son away. “She has to remember in order to become an excellent Venator like you!”

Krystal’s tiny body shivered violently under cold, but she did not budge from her position. She was still in a state of disbelief … confusion, however, deep down she knew this was the reality she had to believe in – and in that very state, she started to dig.

“Mom … Dad …” her voice quavered – it was shaky, barely covered the sobs that was about to break out – she kept her voice low to relay a sense of steadiness before it turned into series of hysterical shrieks.

Within seconds, snow was carved into her porcelain skin.

Frozen blood and bruises cracked across her hands.

Krystal felt no wisp or relief after repeatedly clawed the snow. She could feel her sanity drifting away into the abyss; hence she knelt there hopelessly, pondering these afflictions, only to reaffirming the hell she was now wandering. Any hope of relief was destroyed by the amount of agony and sadness that haunted her.

He noticed Krystal’s lithe hands fiddling the smooth silk layers of her Dior dress – despite her infamous glacial expression accompanied by her seemingly poised demeanor and her apathetic façade, a small hint of nervousness and discomfort could be seen in her pair of brown eyes.

He held onto her small hand, letting their fingers intertwine with each other. Krystal’s eyes fluttered open; she glared at him in disbelief as she tried to pull away from his firm grip. “You shouldn’t be like this Krystal, you know better,” he whispered. “What are you so nervous about, Krys? Please, don’t be like this in front of him. You know Father doesn’t like you being weak.”

Her pair of brown eyes dilated in response to her brother’s rhetoric, it immensely irked her how Lucas had arranged his words in such way, she was well aware of the fact that she not weak.  And, in one strong swipe, she managed to escape from her brother’s grasp. Her attention was focused on Lucas for quite a while, her pair of brown orbs seemed like it was piercing right through him. In an instant, Krystal had swallowed all of her fears and discontentment away; the very image of a petrified little Krystal had been completely erased from her own mind, and when he scrutinize the pair of eyes he had known for so long, Lucas could not catch the light that used to reflect on Krystal’s pair of brown orbs anymore – the look she gave him was the look he had never seen before, her glaring eyes had reflected a reigning spirit along with thousands of words left unsaid – and for a brief moment, he had almost thought he did not know her anymore. Regardless of Krystal’s dreadful sense of nature as well as her ruthless killer instincts, he never saw such resentment reflected on her eyes.

“He is not my father,” she hissed.

A tense silence followed the last sentence Krystal had mindlessly uttered out of exasperation and malice. As much Lucas thought he was immune toward Krystal’s rather blunt words along with her acerbic character, he had encountered a few moments when her usual incisive response would anger him. However, he was well aware of the fact that he was not an immature child he used to be, for his father now considered him as a young adult. Moreover, he believed anger was merely a fleeting emotion that had an ability to be a double-edged sword, hence he chose to disregard the rancor that was heard in his younger sister’s previous remark, all Krystal needed was a temporary punching bag to release her anger, after all.

 “Did I come on the wrong time?” both of their eyes diverted toward the source of the voice they previously heard, only to have them fixated upon a figure of a man they called Father, as if possessing the ability of sensing others’ thoughts, Huang Lu Xue who was garbed in Versace’s all black attire proceed his attempt in enunciating his thoughts as a Father of two adolescents should have, “Did the two of you fight again? Did you start it, Krystal?”

Her pair of brown eyes appeared to have bore holes in her Father’s as she observed his gestures. “Did I start it again?” she scoffed, the pair of orbs were still fixed upon Huang Lu Xue’s firm figure. Krystal could feel the familiar dull pain in the pit of her stomach as her patience was nearing its limit; exposing the anger she suppressed for being a useless joker in the family for losing the series of trivial mental games – after all, Huang Krystal was known for her infamous temper – she emitted a few polite chuckles before resuming her dignified elegance along with her poised demeanor.

Recalling his last memories of the usual sight of Krystal not being able to control her anger after being jabbed by the streak of his father’s rather sarcastic remarks, Lucas was fascinated by how his younger sister eased the atmosphere earlier than he had initially thought.

“Oh, don’t be such a grump, Krystal. Look at that scowl on your face,” Lucas' stable voice chirped throughout the silent suite, finishing his younger sister’s attempt in alleviating the situation by dismissing the small amount of tense atmosphere she had forgotten to expel – his younger sister simply chuckled in disbelief as she noticed the sudden change in Lucas' way of comprehending the current situation – he glanced over Krystal, “I could guarantee you that I surely did not need your absurd pfft when I’m trying to explain myself here, Krys,” Lucas said as he gave her a dry look. Despite the brusque tone she could hear through her older brother’s simple sentence, this was the Lucas she knew; the most obedient child of Huang Lu Xue was the real joker of the family.

The fifty-piece orchestra’s serene melodies drifted through the expanse ballroom of the Choi mansion, playing Pachelbel’s classical piece as the highly named aristocratic members of the privileged high-end charity funding committee; Caedis Sicarius displayed their outstanding apparels, and it was such a magical sight for Krystal – the Baroque chandelier shone, and the marble floors gleamed. The grand ballroom of the Choi mansion had been transformed into a refined Italian Renaissance ball with a small touch of the current modern design’s clean lines, along with the five-foot tall exquisite, Swarovski crystal centerpieces, and the beautiful magnolia flowers blooming in every archway; the annual Bal des Sicarius had never failed to impress her.

“That old man had really outdone himself, didn’t he?” remarked Lucas, his eyes nonchalantly trailed over the grand ballroom, scrutinizing the same angles as hers. Delighted by the amazing details, Lucas raised an eyebrow. A gentle smile spread across his set of lips as Krystal looked over him. “You’re impressed, aren’t you? I know that you’re particularly fond of these kind of designs; the grand classical design with a little twist of modern simplicity, am I correct?”

Krystal’s eyes dilated at Lucas' previous statement, before furrowing her eyebrows at him. “I certainly did not know of how much you’ve been paying attention at my personal liking in this particular theme,” she chuckled, running her through her black hair. “It must’ve been Sooyoung who suggested the decorations. She has a good taste.”

“Well, I think it’s their grandfather who threw this idea. He always hires the best even organizer theme, anyway,” Lucas retreated, emitting a considerable amount of dry chuckles before pondering his eyes over a particular hors d’oeuvres that had caught the attention of the seventeen-year-old. “What?” he asked, realizing the younger sibling had blinked a few curious eyes at him. “It’s a smoked salmon, dill crème fraiche and caviar hors d’oeuvres. How can I not take my eyes off it?”

Krystal restrained herself from responding her older brother’s previous statement for the grand ballroom had fall into an unexpected silence – the orchestra abruptly stopped after they finished another piece of a serene waltz. The silence settled over the grand ballroom of the annual Bal des Sicarius as though it was a down-filled duvet, muting the slightest sound, creating an atmosphere of a complete tranquility – everyone remained frozen in their positions, the quietness was nearly tangible, no rustlings of the long ball gowns against the dance floor, breathing was slow and barely audible.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen! Hereby, I announce you the presence of both Regis and Regent of the Concave. I present you, Shim Changmin and Im Yoona!” the herald declared as two familiar figures of two individuals who held the highest positions in Caedis Sicarius made an appearance on the center of the ballroom stage. A spotlight shone, and the silence that had kept the ball attendants quiet was lifted, the sounds of hands clapping and standing ovations filled the entire space.  

Clad in a beautiful, caviar Zuhair Murad macramé dress with laser cut embroidery, a pair of Balenciaga ankle strap suede heels, along with her dark brown hair which had been styled in such way that it looked as though it was flowing, Im Yoona confidently stood in the spotlight with an aristocratic looking man by her side. The man was no other than the current Regis of the Conclave, Shim Changmin. His athletic build was garbed in a loose, white shirt with a band collar that had been purposely ed to reveal the black, Armani turtleneck underneath it. He was finely attired in a grey cotton gabardine trench coat, completed by the soulmakers 1906 limited edition, Mont Blanc fountain pen placed in the front pocket of it. Nodding at the applauding attendants, Changmin cleared his throat, and raised his hand up, asking for another silence for Yoona and him were about to give their greetings.

“First of all, I would like to thank Choi Hyun Sung for his endless support for this year’s Bal des Sicarius and for his warm welcome,” Changmin said, a gentle smile formed across his set of full lips. “This very ball has been the tradition of our society; Caedis Sicarius to rise funds for the charity project that is currently led by our one and only, Kim Suho!”  

Krystal found herself being oblivious to her surroundings, barely listening to the standard lecture concerning the noblesse oblige and the services that had been proved to be helpful toward the general society – the annual Bal des Sicarius that had raised a tremendous amount of money that would be donated for the less privileged and blood banks all over the word – and his endless list of names he thanked for sponsoring this very ball and Caedis Sicarius as whole.

“However, as we all know, helping others are not the only thing that Caedis Sicarius does,” added Yoona, deeply pondering her eyes over the ball attendants as she attempted to hide the tenacious tone that could be heard from her rather appeasing voice by giving them a whimsical little smile. She looked over Changmin for a short moment, and when their eyes met, Yoona knowingly nodded.

“A new generation of vampire hunters is born!” Changmin declared, his voice resonated throughout the grand ballroom, with a glass of champagne on his right hand; he looked over the left side of the stage. “I present you, the last members of Venators to be claimed in this generation, Choi—”

A series of nervous whispers diffused in the tense air, Krystal could overheard the silent conversations in her surroundings had; speculating who’s child was to be claimed by the Conclave, rumors had been flying around here and there, there were some hits and miss. However, Krystal knew …

A crafty smirk formed along Krystal’s rose-tinted lips as she recognized the familiar figure of two individuals that had come to sight – but her intense gaze never left that one particular person.

She had once more found herself scrutinizing her lover – his raven hair perfectly framed his well-sculptured features in a loose comb over style. His pair of deep amber eyes looked back at her, as if knowing she had been gazing at him, and at that moment the time felt as though it had been stopped, the faint melody of Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata echoed in her thoughts …

A beautiful sound, one he was particularly familiar of, resonated throughout the dark, murky halls of the Huang manor. The tune sounded rather hopeful, yet displayed an immense amount of despair and sorrow, all mixed into a one impacting combination.

The young boy felt the sadness of the music seeping slowly, spreading throughout his veins. The intriguing tone of the beautiful performance of Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata drew his curiosity, as he gradually found himself heedlessly following the faint tunes of Moonlight Sonata. The next second he knew was when he saw nothing but an empty hallway with only one, dim source of light emitting from a small gap of a mahogany, double door.

Gently, the young boy approached the door, afraid that this very sight may only be a dream and one wrong move would waver the music – he peeked through the small gap of the creaking door, and a girl he assumed was around his age was there, sitting on the piano stool. Beautiful, she was, with her long cascading dark locks, her porcelain skin, visible to him though their faces were only illuminated by the dim light of the fire in the fireplace next to her. She was slim and ethereal; her small body was garbed in a white gown, and with her cherubic features along with her set of deep brown eyes, her lithe fingers gently pressed each of the ivory, white and charcoal keys of the piano.

He met her for the first time that day, where night had loomed over Beijing, and the annual Bal des Sicarius had found its place in Lu’s manor. Two young children had escaped the ball in different timing, but had somehow, found their way back to each other.

In the year of 2000, two young children met by what they would call as destiny; fate. And, in that cold, winter night where the cold breeze had found its way into the creaky piano room, Kai and Krystal met each other.

Krystal, who had been drowned in her reverie for the past few minutes, twitched as she abruptly looked over her surroundings, which was now honoring the Regis’ declaration concerning the claiming process of the new generation of hunters, that had already been authoritatively finished, by raising their fists up in the air; displaying the tattooed symbol of Venators on their wrists.

The indistinct voice of Changmin declaring the names of the last Venators to be claimed, followed by a blast of applause pierced her ears. However, none of that mattered to her as she gazed over Kai who was standing by his sister’s side – his eyes had glinted the same intelligent craftiness and malice as he held his fist up in the air, as well, following the others – Krystal gave him a nod, which Kai responded by his infamous, mischievous smirk.

 “To the new generation of hunters!”