On the way, as Orpheus's car drove on the Washington pavement, there was strangely heavy traffic, and it certainly didn't go unnoticed.
In the car, the atmosphere between the two was clearly at a standstill; they barely spoke. Blacky was surely wondering why, after all this time, Orpheus was now resurfacing out of nowhere, which was completely bizarre from his point of view. But he already knew it was related to Dracula, so the doubt dissipated.
It was Orpheus who made the first move, trying to put Blacky at ease. "Hey, kid, want some water?"
No response from Blacky, who was decidedly elsewhere, not focused on the conversation.
Throughout the entire journey to Capitol Hill, the silence was unsettling, but it was not to last.
They finally arrived in front of Orpheus Sangrael's property, which was quite large, to put it mildly: there was a large manor at the far end, and a small thicket of trees at the entrance. A man dressed as a butler opened the main gate.
He bowed. "Welcome, Sir Orpheus," said the butler.
The car continued and stopped in front of the manor. Blacky got out of the vehicle, completely impressed by the grandeur of the mansion. In his head, everything was spinning out of control.
"What is this nonsense? Is this the president's house or what..."
A governess approached them and bowed. "Sir Orpheus, you were quick. I must inform you that Miss Angela has returned," the governess explained.
Then, the governess's eyes fell on Blacky, who was decidedly not thrilled to be on the Orpheus property.
"Oh, that little troublemaker is back?" Orpheus said with joy.
Then, Orpheus invited Blacky to enter the manor, but there was a small problem.
"Damn, I forgot my clothes in my old apartment," Blacky complained.
Orpheus smiled and placed a hand on Blacky's shoulder.
"That's not a problem, I have clothes ready for you," Orpheus replied.
"But why are you doing this? You disappear overnight. Aaah, right, I get it now, it was my father who suggested you help me, right?"
"Exactly, I'm sorry about your mother. And I feel terrible for not having been there to protect her."
Blacky clenched his fists and lowered his head, completely destabilized. It was then that a scream was heard from the main floor, a soft, feminine voice.
It was the famous Angela. She had blond hair and blue eyes, wearing a classy uniform, a women's suit ensemble.
She ran towards Orpheus Sangrael and hugged him, happy about the reunion. Angela Sangrael was Orpheus's adopted daughter, having been found and taken in by Orpheus under dubious circumstances.
"Oh daddy, it's been so long! Don't you ever send me to a campus again!" Angela cried.
Orpheus Sangrael was, after all, a bold man who had enrolled his daughter at Harvard.
"But you know very well that it's for your own good, young lady. If you want to be a lawyer, you have to make sacrifices to achieve your dreams."
Blacky was observing the scene. He had a brief flashback, thinking about his relationship with his mother. Even though his mother was no longer there, he still held on to good memories of her.
Until the moment Angela finally noticed Blacky's presence, who stood with his hands in his pockets, looking at the manor's rooftops from left to right.
Orpheus raised his arm towards Blacky and introduced him to his daughter. "Angela, this is Blacky, the son of my old friend I told you about. He just lost his mother and had nowhere else to live, so I brought him here."
Angela immediately displayed a hostile expression towards Blacky. "Dad, why did you agree to house this delinquent here? What if he mugs us and steals all our belongings?"
Blacky suddenly looked annoyed and expressed his displeasure. "Watch your language, you little spoiled brat! Is it because I'm Black that you associate me with theft and robbery?"
The two began to argue. Orpheus was exasperated by the situation and simply put his hand to his face and ordered them to stop this useless quarrel.
Then, he asked the governess to guide Blacky to his room. Blacky could feel the cold atmosphere of the manor. With a gloomy aspect, there were tons of portraits of Orpheus Sangrael on the walls.
The governess did not inspire trust in Blacky, who sensed a thirst for blood in her, just like with Dracula. He had a bad feeling that troubled his mind, but Blacky found the governess very seductive. She had the appearance of a young woman of about twenty-three.
Once they arrived in a hallway, she presented Blacky with a few rules to follow. "Alright, listen kid, I don't have time to waste, so pay attention," said the governess.
It was a case of the pot calling the kettle black; she didn't really have the profile of someone who should be calling Blacky a "kid," but it was undoubtedly related to the social hierarchy again.
"This is your room, everything is included. A very large room for a commoner like you, humph. Enough chit-chat, the clothes are in that closet on the right and the toilet is at the end of the hall outside," the governess explained.
"Got it, but by the way, may I know your name?" Blacky asked.
The governess ignored his question and simply turned around and slammed the bedroom door.
First, Blacky took off his clothes. His room did have a shower, but no toilet. It was already a necessity to find a toilet in a house of this kind, a Victorian one dating from the 80s.
He opened the closet and took a towel, but strangely, he found some classy clothes, a collection of white shirts and suit bottoms. That's all there was.
"What is this nonsense? There are only bourgeois clothes in this place, it's pathetic."
After making this remark, Blacky was in the shower and turned on the tap. A few seconds later, the water began to flow, and Blacky showered, trying to wash the grime and sweat off his body.
But while he was showering with his eyes closed, he had the sensation of being watched, and he didn't like it. He kept turning around whenever his intuition was on alert.
'Clack-splash'
It was the sound of something falling from a table, but Blacky told himself it was just a draft, since the windows were all open.
Until he felt a breath on his neck.
"Oh yes, I can't resist anymore, you smell so goood!"
When Blacky turned his face, he saw that it was the governess behind him, gripping him from the back, her arms wrapped around his chest with a sensuality that could have made any man succumb.
When she opened her mouth, vampire canines were visible.
"Let me taste just a small fraction of your human blood." She licked her lips with impatience.
"Wait, you're a vampire?" Blacky asked, completely surprised but not really looking worried; compared to his time with Dracula, this was a joke.
"Exactly, kid, I come from a long line of intermediate-rank vampires. We are in the service of Sir Orpheus Sangrael because he is part of the nobility, in a way. He and Mister Dracula are the fathers of the vampires."
So Blacky had just understood the impact of dominance: the nobles had a dominance superior to those of the lower hierarchy. The vampiric lineage extended into two branches, Dracula's and Orpheus's. But judging from the governess's words and her appearance, she must be from his father Dracula's lineage, which was characterized by black hair, while those from Orpheus's lineage were blond.
"I understand, but I must warn you that I'm not for eating," Blacky cautioned.
It was at that moment that the governess sank her fangs into his neck and sucked his blood. Blacky only felt a slight pain, like two needles piercing his skin.
But the result was catastrophic. Because the governess began to vomit.
"Cough cough... But this blood is tainted! Who are you, kid?"
Blacky turned off the tap and put on his towel. Then, he introduced himself. "It's simple, I'm Blacky Johnson, son of Dracula, born from a union with a human, so in short, I'm a hybrid and my blood is not as pure as a human's."
The governess suddenly looked ridiculous and started laughing, scratching her head.