Umber pondered for a moment, looking at Mellita. At last, he took one of his own nails and put a small cut on one of his wrists. He pushed it up against Mellita's mouth, feeling a rush of power and a sensual heat filling him as he whispered in her ear. "Drink"

It wasn't a perfect solution, of course - the effects of the Lord's blood on lesser vampires had always been unpredictable. But it was also incredibly potent - and Mellita had already fed from him before, in Ironheart. That would, of course, have created the begginnings of a bond, a basis for this to build on now that he was making a concious effort to create one. He was unsure if it would break Helion's completely, but it might serve as a counterbalance, and would hopefully help if they encountered Helion - help, that is, to prevent him from ordering Mellita against them.

When she had taken enough, Umber held her for a moment, looking into her eyes with his arms wrapped about her waist as the blood took hold within her. He could feel it, pulsing in her dead veins, a part of him. Then he pressed his lips to hers, tasting his own vitae on her tongue as he dimly heard Ross retch.

He pulled back after a moment, smiling, and gently wiped a trace of blood from the corner of her mouth. "If we both survive this, Mellita, I will give you your freedom. This I give you my word upon. Now, let us go. We must speak with my old comrade and see what he is up to."

He began to drift upwards, moving over to Bran to hover about him protectively while still keeping an eye on Mellita. "Oh, and everyone... don't worry too much about what words I might trade Kartul. I may have to talk fast at some point, and there's no need for any of you to worry about what I might have to say." So saying, he began to rise towards the fortress, his sword lose in its scabbard if the guardians should prove hostile.