The farm was located about twenty miles south from the city, the main highway about a mile east. It's old buildings were sturdy, yet showed their age. A two story farm house sat in the back of the property, yet aligned with the center. Off to the right was the barn, still housing livestock and a couple of good horses. To the left of the house was the ridding corral and a recently added dressage arena. Past the pastures was a dirt one mile course, a course Aethel usually used to train the horses how to race. It was the main way he got money.

He owned forty acres. Forty acres of just beauty. Most of the smog was kept in the city. Out here on the farm, he could see the stars as clear as water. Each star reminded him of a different memory. How often he had looked up at the night sky, wishing he was up therre among them. Now he had no time for that. He was busy either training the horses or feeding. His workers were alright. They were respectable men who knew their trade, and did it well. Most of them lived in the farmhouse, where they got free food and whatever necessities they needed they got. Of course he paid them, but often they refused.

At the moment, Aethel was looking over each of the horses. He was usually at his apartment in the city, an easy resource for food. Now, now he just wanted to relax. The thorougbred was looking good, his main racing horse. It was hard getting into anything other then dressage or eventing with any of the other horses. He ran his soft hands along the mare's smooth coat, getting rid of any dust or dried mood with a soft brush. Her legs were long and strong. She would make a good jumper, but he had no time or patience to train her. She was trained well enough for racing, perhaps when she retired would he consider jumping her.

The mare snorted, nuzzling his pockets for treats, knickering when she found none. Aethel smiled and straightened, patting her lightly on the neck and scratching her mane just above the withers.

"Good girl. You look well in shape for the next race. Nick will be taking you this time...I cannot race you, not this time." He smiled sadly, longing to feel the rush of wind on his face. "You'll be alright. Nick is a good rider...he's raced you before, and each time you won."

Then again, he would only enter her in small races, not large ones. He wasn't interested in large purses, he just wanted the horse to be in shape and bring in money every once in a while. More then anything, his horses were animals that he loved and he would never think of them as tools. When they were tired, he did not push them. When they were in a grumpy mood, he was kind and gentlehearted. Often people argued with the way he treated the animals. Had he not sold horses, long ago, to the men of the king's court? Was he not worthy of his horses? He pushed those thoughts aside, wanting to concentrate on the now and not the then.

"Dario, por favor. Ebony necessitas mas agua y mas comida. Ella es muy flaco, yo no me gusta..."

The man who was sweeping the corridor of the barn looked up and nodded, filling a bucket of water and grabbing a flake of hay. Aethel didn't know much spanish, but knew enough to get by. He treated the other horses the same; the Arabian mare, the Appalosa gelding, and the Cleveland Bay gelding.

He went outside, safe in the dim rays of the moon. He gazed down the dirt road. Often people got lost on their way to the city and came down his road. He wondered silently if any would be coming tonight. Then there was always the press, asking him to enter Ebony into much more advanced races, but that was a different story...and they usually came in the day time. And when they did, he would often not appear, in fear of what the sun would do...

Though, she wasn’t sure just what pissed her off more, the fact that her prize horse had been beaten, or that there was a better rider out there?

She doubted it was a vampire, and the thought of a mortal beating her nearly made her retch. Vampire she could have handled… but a mortal? If she were any more competitive she would drain him dry on sight.

A cowl marred Ramona’s usually cool and collected features as she stepped out of her car, walking barefoot over the grace to cross her arms against the wood of the fence and look out over the land. The barn was not far off. But, if she were right and this had nothing to do with vampires, then the horses would give her away in a heart beat. Most animals couldn’t stand the smell of an immortal, after all.

Frustration weighed heavy on her shoulders and she hung her head as she tried to think. Her long hair nearly brushed across the grass as she swayed slightly, trading her weight from one foot to the other in a practiced habit of agitation. She was nearly 500 yrs old, there had to be something she could do!

She growled at herself, feeling powerless wasn’t something she took with grace.

If nothing else, she at least wanted the horse. Not for keeping of course, but for stud. Who knew, between Ace of Spades and that mare she could find one hell of a prize horse. She had the money for it, and it wasn’t uncommon practice… if only she could get her hands on the owners!

Why did races have to be during the day? Aethel let out a small growl of frustration before freezing. He felt someone. It was faint, but he could smell. The wind was floating towards him, bringing the scent of another vampire to his nose. His upper lip twitched and he turned towards the barn.

"Dario! Siera los puertos..." He ordered, closing the doors to the barn closest to him while Dario closed the others. "Now who has come..."

He looked down the dirt road again, seeing the faint outline of a car and a being. He could only guess it was the vampire. He just hoped that the other would not be one who wished to attack, and hoped that she or he didn't want to feed on his horses...then there would be some problems. He would risk his life for his horses, even if they were mortal...

Ramona sighed as she straightened and pushed her hair back. The wind wasn’t being helpful at all, she couldn’t catch anything beyond the city smells they carried past her. It seemed that the night was working against her, and her choices were quickly beginning to dwindle down into nothing.

Well, what horse owner did she know that seemed to always have manners or normal hours?

None.

Good, she would simply drive up and introduce herself then. Ramona slid back into her car, taking it for granted that a house had to be near by somewhere, even if the farm owner didn’t live in it. With a bit of maneuvering and a couple gear shifts she had herself turned around and headed down the dirt road that branched off the main road.

A moment ago the barn had been open, now it was shut tight. Out in the distance she couldn’t see any outlines that suggested living quarters. Well, there had to be a house somewhere, but she wasn’t going on a wild goose chase for it.

Her nerves were beginning to be frayed in the wrong direction. However, somehow she managed to plaster a polite smile into her features as she pulled over by the barn. Still barefoot and without a coat despite the chilled air, Ramona uncurled from her car and slammed the door to make sure whomever was inside knew she was there.

She waited, and waited a little longer.

Near the point to loosing her temper, Ramona leaned back inside her silver Lincoln and laid on the horn, stubbornly holding it down despite the pain in her sensitive ears.

Aethel appeared in an instant. The horn had startled the horses. They were neighing and letting out pierce whinnies.

"Please, miss." He said, watching her closely. "I would have thought you were going to look in the shadows, as that is where most people are at night. Now, may I ask, what are you doing here?"

He didn't mean to be rude, but he was in no interest for having any of his horses eaten. And he wasn't in the best of moods at the moment. His cane dug into the earth beneath him, his hand shaking slightly as he was holding himself back from stricking the car. Even though he knew it would only make a small dent, but would prove his point. One of the men peeked his head out of one of the windows of the house. Aethel waved to him and the man went back into the house silently.

Ramona sighed and took her hand off the horn. She did regret bothering the horses, but as angry as she was it was only a passing remorse. Though, she had to admit she was more angry at herself than the young man… no, vampire, in front of her.

“I was wondering where the owner of this farm was hiding out?” Ramona looked him over slowly, trying to get a grip on herself long enough to at least sound rational. “I take it you would be the man I am looking for, yes?”

Ramona winced, her accent was getting heavy. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and ordered herself into a stagnate calm. She really needed to work on her anger issues. Though, feeding would certainly help.

“I came to talk to you about one of your mares. She beat one of my best horses in a race three nights ago or so. Seeing as you are as nocturnal as I am, you don’t mind speaking about it at such a late hour, do you?”

"Not at all." He said, looking towards the barn quietly. "Since you come with the subject of my mare...then I would think it a suitable place to discuss in the barn...The house at the moment is a mess, we weren't expecting guests."

He spoke calmly and held no anger in his tone, though he was a bit agitated. She could have just called out, asked for someone, instead of blaring her horn. But, sometimes anger made people do...not so bright things. Aethel pushed those thoughts aside and walked towards the barn, opening the heavy doors with ease.

When the doors were open, every horse had poked their heads out from their stalls, ears pointed forwards to look towards the guest. Aethel had to chuckle slightly. The sight was something you'd normally see in the movies, not something in reality. Slowly, one by one, the horses disappeared back into their stalls, going back to their feed.

"She's the first one on the right..."

He didn't sense any intent on hurting, so he decided to trust the woman for now. Usually he wouldn't let anyone in the barns. Yet this woman had risked a lot. If he had been mortal, he would have wondered why the horses were panicing. Yet, thankfully for her, he was not.

“Thank you.” Her words came out on a rush as she released the breath she had been holding. She hadn’t even noticed she’d been holding until then. It was peculiar, but she was calmer now. She quietly studied the vampire before her as she pushed open the doors and nearly grinned at the sight of several curious horses peeking around to see who had come along and disturbed them.

Truth be told, Ramona was suddenly expecting one of them to take a swift kick at her as she walked by.

“First on the right, you said?” She asked the question almost to herself as she walked to the stall, bare foot and nearly bouncing with excitement. She slipped quietly into the stall, murmuring softly in Romani as she slowly approached the very well built, and young, mare. This was the one, the sweet little thing that had beaten Ace. She looked about Cajun’s age, and had his spirit for the race.

But this horse looked all Thoroughbred, not an once of Arabian in her, and certainly vine stock of a very different type from what was population her stables.

“But still, you are beautiful.” Ramona chuckled as she reached out to lightly touch the mare’s side. She waited, watched, and listened to the horse before she slowly began to stroke her side. “What is her name?”

Aethel smiled lightly as he watched from the stall door. He took pride in his horses. He was slightly amazed that the woman had gone in without shoes, but he kept that to himself. The horse snorted and looked towards the stranger, ears pricked forwards. Finding no treats were to be presented, the horse returned to her meal, careful not to step on the feet of the vampire.

"Her name is Ebony." Aethel responded, watching the way the woman acted around the other horse. "How long have you been around horses, if I may ask?"

Dario walked past and glanced at the woman. He paused slightly in his steps, unsure of why a stranger would be looking at his Boss' prized horse. After a minute or two he shrugged and tended to the other horses.

“All my life,” Ramona barely spared Aethel a glance as she hopped from one clean spot of hay to another. It wasn’t exactly graceful when her legs had a limited range of movement (thanks larger to an annoyingly tight, sheath dress) but, she was as agile as she had ever been during her vagabond years.

“The Rom lived off horses for as long as I can remember,” she grinned slightly as she took stock of Ebony’s build and color. She was beautiful, quick, young, no noticeable defects on the outside, no scars, no old wounds, nothing.

Now, what was her genealogy like?

“I’m the owner of the stud a few miles up the road from here. This beauty beat one of my best while I was riding.” She clicked her tongue as she hop-scotched her way back out of the stall. Really, she couldn’t wait until long flowing skirts were back in fashion. “Made a terrible blow at my pride, the pair of you. Of course, I am assuming you were her rider? It was well after sundown after all.”

"I was." He said, watching as Ebony came over towards the stall door, poking her head out of the stall once the woman had left. She pressed her forehead against Aethel's chest and in a way used him as a scratching post, almost knocking him off balance. "And as you can see...she loves attention." He said, stepping to the side and patting her neck.

"Ebony comes from a long line of horses. I didn't even know the breed kind, for breed was not important in the old days, until the vet assured me she was a thorougbred and therefore registered her as one...Her father never lost a race, his name was Hold-on....He was a very noisy and hard to control little bugger...She takes after her mother, thank goodness, for her temperment. Her mother was more of a jumper, but had raced a couple times. She lost twice out of five races. She didn't love running as much as Hold-on. We only raced the horses in small races, enough to get income for taxes, food, hay, workers, etc. The horses never got big. Her grandparents raced a bit, the grandmother winning four out of five races and the grandfather winning eight out of ten. Their names were Catch Me and Silent Star...I didn't name them, the workers did at the time." He smiled slightly. He had figured she had wanted the genealogy, due to her mentioning a stud. He would breed Ebony if need be, but much later. She was only three years old.

"I could go on, but after the grandparents, the other horses were merely used for English and Western pleasure. I didn't even have this barn built by then. And that race track wasn't there. And the races I took part in at that time were races on a mere dirt road and have drunks bet..." He sighed and scratched the bridge of Ebony's mane. "The other horses I rescued. But I don't think you have any interest in them for they certainly did not beat on of your prized horses. I only have one, Ebony. And if any harm comes to her, I will be sure to find who hurt her. I hope you understand." He said, watching the woman closely. He was use to having his horses drugged to go slow, or had their legs wounded before the race. Now, whenever a race was going on, he kept a worker accompanying her at all times, even inside the stall. Usually he was the one that was inside the stall, seeming as that was the best place he could avoid sunlight during the day. "Now, if I may ask. Do you wish to stud your horse to my mare? If so, we may come to an agreement, but that would have to happen once she retires...so you may see if she is truly good or not..."