Rick's boots crunched on the loose gravel as he walked down into the quarry. With each step, he got closer to Carmilla and deeper into obvious danger.
The masked woman watched him come closer with calm confidence, like a predator who already knew the hunt was over. As Rick was about halfway down, someone else came out of the shadows.
This one didn't have a mask on. She was in her early fifties and had silver-streaked black hair pulled back tightly from her face.
She had the cold, precise look of someone who saw people as fascinating specimens instead of human beings. Her dark robes seemed to soak up light, and her eyes behind wire-rimmed glasses were the color of ice.
"Thank you for coming, Consort," the woman said, her voice cold and detached like a researcher talking about lab results. "You are very easy to read."
"People do stupid things when they are emotionally attached."
Rick stopped walking and clenched his fists. "Who the fuck are you?"
