《The Villainous Vampire》


 Chapter One: The Tiny Rat

    Sitting in a luxurious wooden chair behind a desk, I glance at the man kneeling before me. He is absolutely hideous. A mass of bones with gray skin tigtly stretched on them - the only words I can find to describe him. He appears utterly exhausted, unable to even raise his head to match my gaze. With my long, but fragile looking finger I motion to Donna, the woman standing nearby, to fetch the cup from the table across the room. She nods wordlessly, takes it and pours a few drops of the liquid inside into the man''s mouth. Appearing more alive now, he begins to speak.


    "Please, I -", - was all he could muster, before splattering on the floor from a heavy punch to the now deformed jaw. Donna always packed a mean left hook.


    "Shut it." - she tells him and swings her leg for another strike. With his bones weakened severely after a long starvation, this kick can probably take his head off. With a simple, quiet command from my nonexistent lips I stop her right before the foot hits his face. I should probably tell her to turn down the enthusiasm.


    "Look, Thomas, I am not unreasonable.", - I say to him, while laughing inside my own head. It always brings me joy to see Donna hurt people.


    "Just tell me where your coven is and I''ll let you go."


    "Really?", - he answers. Now that is a pleasant surprise. I was expecting him to call bullshit, but I guess the hunger dulled his common sense even stronger than I have imagined.


    "Of course. I have no interest in such a low-ranked vamp as you are.", - That is actually true. A nobody like Thomas, a half blooded weakling, would never pose a threat to me. I''ll still kill him, though.


    "Swear by the eternal night."


    "What?", - I ask, confused by the sudden request.


    "Swear by the eternal night, our cradle and our grave, that you would release me after I spill the information for you."


    "Sure. I there by swear by the eternal night," - whatever the hell it is, "That I would free you."


    Thomas, with all the strength he could muster, eyes me sceptically.


    "That''s¡­Not exactly how the oath goes.", he says and hesitates a bit before continuing, - "Whatever, I guess its good enough. In the northern district, there was a mall opened recently, You heard of it?"


    "The Purple Planet?"


    "That''s the one.", - Thomas nods affirmatively, - "Our base is in the basement underneath. You can access it by the Staff door of the clothing shop on the second floor, "Modern Fashion"."


    "How many can I expect?" - I catch the change in his face, the one indicating he is about to lie. - "If you decide to be dishonest with me, Thomas, I''ll have Donna here rip you to pieces, pack your head in a box and send it travelling across the globe."


    He swallows. Hard.


    "Ten vamps, give or take. Twice as many rifled humans."


    "Any pure bloods?"


    "You kidding? Where would we get one? You are the first of them I have ever seen."


    "Great. Thanks for your cooperation, buddy."


    With a gesture I tell Donna to end the rat. Unfortunately, Thomas also understood what the gesture meant.


    "But you swore! You swore!" - he tries to get up and run, but Donna catches him by the neck.


    "Permission to bloody the carpet, Master?" - she says, clearly excited by the prospect of violence. Gods, she surely is my favourite pet.


    "Allowed".


    After hearing the word, Donna begins to smack his tiny head on the flour again and again, until nothing but a gory mess is left.


    "It is done, Master" - her expression holds a crazy smile, her unhealthy pale, almost milky white skin is covered in dark red.


    "Call someone to clean it up. Oh, and be a dear, get Charles in here."


    "No can do. Charles and the others are in the infirmary."


    "Why am I only hearing about this now?"


    "Because I was busy murdering that" - she points her finger to the corpse, - "starved thing before."


    I am honestly at loss whether she is mocking me or just speaking bluntly.


    "Fair point. I''ll go visit them then."


    "Of course, Master."


    Charles Montgomery. A reckless troublemaker is what he is, but a charismatic one. Always knows exactly when his tricks would cross the line. Always keeps things interesting around here.


    When I leave the office, I find myself in a large, wide hall lightened by enormous chandeliers. Servants, like meaningless insects, are running around in every direction. I cannot help but feel the vibe of an era long gone now. Of the era, when the aristocrats, aided by their slaves, held the most splendid parties. When an pompous Emperor would cause a scandal with a misplaced word. When nobody knew about the supernatural, expect for the supernatural. Sadly, I am way to young to have witnessed that time personally. My dear dead maker, however, used to constantly reminisced about it, often cussing at the Party in the process.


    It does not take me long to find the infirmary, since I could sense the blood transfusions across the whole mansion. Unlike the other rooms in the house, this one is modern-looking. Devices, which meaning I do not quite understand, are beeping chaotically, driving my hearing nuts. Two nurses are inside, wearing white scrubs and latex gloves.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon."Oi, oi! The boss''s here!" - exclaims Charlie with probably a sincere enthusiasm and sits up. I notice then that his chest is riddled with bullet holes that are yet to heal.


    "The hell happened to you, kid?" - I forgot to mention that Charlie turned seventeen a month ago.


    "Decided to race a bullet, Master." - he looks at his upper body before continuing, - "I lost. Multiple times."


    I really do not understand where he gets his optimism from, considering the boy''s rough life. An orphan from the suburbs, but not once have I seen him without a smile on his pale baby face. A smile, which, I have to admit, is damn infectious.


    "Charlie, be serious with me now. Who gunned you?"


    "Remember the shady eastern people?" - he unconciously starts to scratch one of the holes, before realising it and putting his hand back to the bed.


    "The ones with a tiger girl?"


    "Yep, heard she is a Feral, actually. Anyway, we were knocking on a door of one of theirs, a business owner. You should see his nightclub, its like, next level stuff."


    "Closer to the point, Charlie."


    "Sorry, Master. We wanted to get him under our wing, so to speak. The usual stuff: protection money, vip privileges, you know the drill." - he stops and looks at me expectedly, as if checking that I am still listening.


    "And?" - I fix him with a stern stare, and Charlie, coughing fakely, continues without further interruptions.


    "The owner told us to fuck off. We obviously did not. He then said he would call some serious people if we did not fuck off. We still, obviously, stayed. In ten minutes, four cars drave in, movie style. Twenty or so people with guns exited them, immediately began to fire at us. We took out four of them, but when that new fellow, Stewie, took a shotgun to the face, we quickly absquatulated."


    "You did what now?"


    "We ran away. You never heard the word, Master?" Charlie asks, with a stupid grin.


    "Did you read it out in that magazine I bought yesterday?"


    "I did." - his grin quickly changes into a somewhat guilty expression.


    "Idiot", - I say, simultaneously rolling my eyes.


    "So Stewie''s dead?"


    "He is, Master."


    Stewie was a twenty year old, whom I turned two weeks ago. He has never shown much intelligence, but seemed like a loyal lad. I am genuinely sad about his demise, since I have l have lost quite a bit of efforts and time with his death.


    "How unfortunate. How is everyone else?" - Besides Charlie, there are six people in the infirmary, lying on the beds. Some of them moaning and groaning, some of them are trying to be stoic, but the pain they''re in is obvious.


    "Just wounded. Nothing a little bit of blood would not fix."


    "Wonderful. I''ll need all of you tomorrow, we are raiding the Blake''s Coven."


    "Understood, Master" -, he removes a stranded curl of his shoulder-length fair hair from his mouth, - "What about the Easterns?"


    "Later. We need to take out the vamps first, before they move again."


    "Got it."


    I begin to walk away, only to be stopped by Charlie''s hand on my arm.


    "What is it?" - I ask him.


    "Master, I know I fucked up pretty badly, but¡­" - he attempts to gather the courage for his next words, "Could you do me a favour?"


    "I am listening." -, once upon a time, my father, an incredible leader in his own right, gave me a wise advice about subordinates.


    ''Always fulfill their minor pleas,'' ,- he said, - ''So that you can painlessly fuck them on the major things.''


    A great man he was, my father.


    "Can you, please, hide this from my sister?" - he points on his injuries, in some which there are still bullets in, - "She worries too much as it is."


    It does not cease to fascinate me. This ability to form emotional connections, this empathy, that allows people to experience the feelings of another. Why can I not have it? Why do I have to live with nothing inside but constant numbness?


    "Not a problem." - I answer him, before my thoughts drift to the realm of a self-induced depression.


    "Thanks."


    It''s nearly dawn already. I organized a surprise for the little Isabella, in purpose of keeping Charlie out of her sight for the day. Now I am standing beside a window, pondering about what''s to come. The shame of being exiled from my own home is still burning in my comatose heart.        "I would return.", - I promise to myself.                "As soon as I can, when there is enough strength flowing through my veins," - I scream the last part with my deep, raucous voice, - "All of you would pay!"


    Sensing the upcoming sun and not wanting to sleep on the floor, I relocate myself on the comfortable sofa and close my eyes in anticipation of tomorrow.

 Chapter Two: Not a battle, but a slaughter

    As a fellow vampire, I can earnestly say that our kind hate the way we are forced to sleep. The sun for us is like a switch that toggles all of our senses off and on. When it rises in the sky, our bodies become nothing but corpses with our self-awarness instantly gone. When it is hidden by the darkness of the night, we once again turn into the mighty predators. There are no dreams, not even a void which could give our minds time to rest, the whole process is absurdly abrupt. Not to mention the state of helplessness during the daytime. This whole thing only applies to the pure-bloods, though. We are the only true vampires, without a taint of humane in our blood. The halflings, the fragile creatures created by our wishes, just feel light-headed and have their abilities scaled down a bit. Guess that''s the universe keeping us from becoming too powerful.


    It''s 12:07 now, mere moments have passed since I regained consciousness. I read this book once, with a such strange world described on its pages. For once, the day and night were not equal in length there, their duration depending on the season. That''s just ridiculous. No wonder the author could only gift away this piece of fiction to the library.


    "Come in, ", I say after hearing a knock on the door.


    It''s Donna in her default clothes: black cargo pants and a same coloured shirt. She never were nor beautiful, nor pretty. She has a large nose, likely due to her Afarian heritage, paired with a little mouth and a small chin. Her hazel eyes are round, same as her forehead. Her short hair is brown, which is terribly mismatched with her complexion. Well, she at least can pass for a human with a bit of make up on. It is something of which I was deprived years ago.


    "Good evening, Master.", - she greets me respectfully, with her head bowed. Of all the half-bloods at my disposal, Donna has been with me the longest. She used to babysit me when I was a child, before all that brutal stuff happened to her family. When I found her again, a month into my current condition, she was thirty-two with her soul completely shattered. I just could not jump in at the opportunity. The prospect of acquiring an absolutely loyal servant was so alluring, I even disobeyed my maker''s wishes.


    "Charlie and the others are waiting for you downstairs.", - she says, - "Would you like to feed beforehand?"


    "I''ll eat during the raid.", - I answer, simultaneously putting my hooded red robe and a mask on. It is the only way for me to be in public, unless I were to use the hiding abilities vampires are so notorious for. I am not that good with magic, to be honest.


    "Sure you don''t need me there?" - Donna asks, while clinching her fists.


    Her uncontrolled lust for battle, her naked desire for murder is too obvious, just as always.


    "Too risky. I need you alive, you know that.", - That''s one of the reasons. Halflings are much more vulnerable than full vampires, hence Charlie running away from nothing more than regular firearms. Another one is that Donna would probably kill bloody everyone, taking all the fun for herself.


    "I understand", she says with a sigh, "Don''t die out there, Master."


    "Don''t make me laugh, Donna." - I reply to her with a sincere smile on my, once handsome, but now horrifying face.


    I''m in a car right now, a jeep big enough to fit six of us, and Charlie is riding a motorcycle close behind. He loves that bike too damn much.


    "What''s the plan, Master?" - says Dylan, probably the only one in this vehicle with chances to survive his first vampiric year. He is a short man, around five foot seven, with a stocky build, bald head and a thick black beard. I would''ve made him the leader of this little gang instead of Charlie, but Dylan''s smarts could not compensate for the unacceptable softness in his heart.


    "Sure. We go in, kill everyone and get out."


    "Master, are you certain that -" - he is getting nervous as he speaks, probably remembering how the bullets hurt him yesterday.


    "Relax," - I interrupt him, "I''m kidding. I''ll deal with the vamps, while you go invisible and take out the humans. It should be dark enough there for it to work."


    Dylan, after thinking for a moment, nods.


    "Would you be okay against fifteen of them?"


    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.I recruited Dylan about six months ago and in all this time, I haven''t really fought. There was never a need, before that obnoxious fairy lady and her meathead of a husband came into my life. So it''s understandable for Dylan to doubt my abilities, having never witnessing them in person.


    "Do you know why my senses are so dull and my magic is so weak?" - I ask him.


    "Can''t say that I do, sir."


    "Cause it''s all went into the physical." - I tell him with a smirk. He decides to focus on the road then.


    It''s about half an hour later, our group is standing before the entrance to "The Purple Planet". Since the outing of the supernatural, no one is going outside in the dark anymore. Don''t get me wrong, there is a shit ton of paranormal assholes lurking in the day too, but in the night our number grows considerably. A halfling, whose name I would not even bother to pronounce, is just about to break the glass door when I shout at him.


    "The fuck you doing, you dumbass?"


    He looks at me, confused, with a brick in his hand.


    "You do know there is a loud alarm enabled, right?"


    "Sorry, Master.", he says, embarrassed.


    Were it not for the limit of how many I could sire, I would most definitely massacre the idiot.


    "Look for another entry,", - I tell them, - "the Coven''s vamps must have a way to sneak inside when the door is locked."


    It takes us additional fifteen minutes to find a hidden way to the mall through another building. A way, about which the tiny Thomas conveniently kept silent. We are now descending down the stairs into the basement, with me in the lead. We also already know that the basement is empty. It''s quiet in there, as is in an unhaunted graveyard.


    "Where is everyone?", asks Charlie, while looking around.


    That''s the question I would''ve like answered myself. All of this is rather disappointing. I really was looking forward to some bloodshed. It''s obvious that''s vamps lived here until recently, with all the syringes for blood transfusions and chains for starving lying around. It''s also obvious, that no one is here now. Just how did the Coven knew to flee? It''s highly unlikely that anyone of mine blabbed. I am too good of a leader for such a thing to happen. It was also impossible for them to suspect Thomas''s ratting, with him being kidnapped just a night ago. Is this whole thing is a mere coincidence? Does someone else hunt the Coven?


    My thoughts are cut short when I hear the footsteps coming from the fashion shop above. I can also feel the distinguished smell of gunpowder in the air. Looks like I''d get that fight after all.


    "Armed humans, about two dozen in about two minutes" - I yell, not any other words necessary. I have, at least, taught my half-bloods the basic stuff.


    When the door bursts open, I am completely ready. First two never stood a chance, with me being so close. I tear their tracheas out with my bare hands and quickly side step to the left, just before a rain of bullets starts pouring down. I summon a black mist, which immediately transforms into an emitting darkness axes. I throw them, killing another two. Then, I rush forward with all my speed and knock a few down on the stairs, before ripping them to pieces. In such tight quarters, this is not s battle, but a slaughter. One after one, the uniformed soldiers fall lifeless on the ground. My resummoned axes easily pierce through whatever protection they have, while theirs weapons barely penetrate my skin. The burly man with pumped shotgun is the only one to give me trouble, severing a part of my jaw. He also nearly pisses himself when it grows back in a matter of seconds. I can''t help but grin then.


    "Damn," awed Charlie laughs, inspecting the aftermath, - "Been too long since I saw you in action, boss."


    Everyone else has the same reaction, expect for Dylan. That lad would puke, if he could.


    "Search them", I order, "We need to find out who the hell this is."


    There are no identifying features on them whatsoever. All men wear kevlar vests, balaclavas and the same heavy boots. However, I have noticed something strange during the fight. All of them were way faster then humans have any right to be. I would go so far as to say that they were on par with someone like Dylan, at least in terms of speed. This fact raises a suspicion in my mind, suspicion that I really hope is wrong.


    "Found anything?", - I question the bearded halfling, who is crouched over the corpse, holding a weapon.


    "The rifles, Master."


    "What about them?"


    "It''s not the kind that you could buy at the black market. This is government''s stuff." - asserts Dylan and puts the gun down.


    Oh, fuck me.


    "I think this guys are CNS." - he declares.


    Why the fuck does this kind of stuff always happens to me?

 Chapter Three: Gentle Man

    I often think myself invincible. I know it''s wrong and that I should get rid of the mentality, but I can''t. It''s a difficult thing to do, when time and time again you are experiencing the thrill of power, of being able to race the fastest cars and shatter the stones in your grip. However, a bomb big enough or a determined sorcerer might very well end me. Do you know who has both? The government of the Union. The government, of which the CNS is the direct extension. In the country, ruled by the army and the law enforcement, the agency that controls both is untouchable and all mighty. And now I seriously pissed them off.


    "Greetings, Mr. Hennigan." - the gruff voice breaks the established silence. It''s coming from a radio, that surprisingly still works after a fall from the stairs.


    I quickly send Charlie upwards to find the source.


    "Your pet would disappoint you, I''m afraid."


    So, he can see me.


    I pick up the radio and press the button.


    "Who are you?"


    "Call me ''Inspector''.", he answers, with amusement, - "I''m an officer of the Committee of National Safety, if you haven''t figured that out yet."


    "And what is it you want with me," ,- I emphasize the last word as clearly as I can, - "Inspector?"


    "Help you, of course."


    Yeah, I understand what is going on now.


    "You are in a quite, " - he hesitates a little before continuing, - "tricky situation."


    "At the eastern corner of the room you''re in, there is a camera hidden in the plant. Check it, if you don''t believe me."


    I walk up to the plant and, surely, there is a camera there. I crash it.


    "That was uncalled for, Lucas.", Inspector gibbed.


    "Fuck you." - I barked, unable to keep the mask of calmness any longer.


    Inspector laughed.


    "I''ll tell you two things."


    "The first one is that CSN does not take lightly on someone murdering its operatives. Especially, on tape."


    "When our chairman, a man of principle, will hear of it, you''re completely fucked."


    "There would be nowhere for you to hide, no means for you to fight, nothing, except accepting your fate."


    "The second thing is, I can help you.", - declared Inspector.


    Of course he can. He set all of this up, after all.


    "I can cover up what happened here and make the tape go away."


    "And what is it you want in exchange?" , - I ask him. This is a blackmail, no more, no less.


    "A favour. Or a few of them." - he tells me, "Nothing specific yet, but, do not worry, I''ll collect when the time comes."


    "So, do we have a deal or should I go to the chairman right now?"


    "It''s not really a choice, is it?" - I doubt.


    No response comes. I try to speak with him again, but Inspector keeps quiet for some time.


    "Your pet proved to be more capable than I thought.", - he finally answers, out of breath, - "I left him alive, as a sign of our future friendship."


    "How considerate of you." - I snick venomously.


    "I am a gentle man.", he says and then continues, - "I''ll contact you later, Mr. Hennigan."


    And with that, the conversation ended.


    I order to collect all the guns from the dead soldiers. Might as well gain something out of this nightmare. After that is done, we set out to search for Charlie. It takes us about fifteen minutes of wondering in the mall, before we finally hear him groaning in some kind of store room. The room itself is in chaos, with shelves thrown down and Charlie underneath. There is a steel pipe in his chest and his arms look broken.


    "Let me guess," I start to jest, "You''ll want me to keep this from your sister?"


    He chuckles, before gasping in pain.


    "That''d be nice, boss."


    After pulling the pipe out and fixing his arms, I ask Charlie about what happened.


    "That dude was not human." - he avowed rather shamefully.


    "What do you mean?" - I ask.


    "When I tackled him, he overpowered me. Just by sheer strength, Master."


    That''s impossible. Half-bloods are supposed to be at least three times stronger than a grown male.


    "That''s not all." - Charlie continues, while trying to stand up, - "We started trading punches after. He was faster than me too, at Donna''s level if I had to guess."


    "He sounded exhausted when he picked the radio again. Was his stamina flawed?" - I hinted to him, remembering the Inspector''s lack of breath.


    Charlie scratches his chin in thought, then answers.


    "Come to think of it, he was slowing down near the end."


    At least this super soldiers lack the endurance.


    "Okay," - I tell the halflings, - "lets get the hell out of here."


    It''s later into the night, I am in my office, glass of scotch in my hand. Yes, vampires can drink other beverages than blood. It''s not so simple with food though.


    I take a sip, letting the alcohol into my system. I won''t get drunk, of course, but the taste is still enjoyable. After everything that happened today, the scotch is exactly what I need to replace the bitterness in my mouth. It''s been a long time since I lost my temper. Then again, it''s been a long time since I have been played like this. Even my exile happened mostly because of my own arrogance, but this¡­ That Inspector simply outsmarted me. I wonder if he even arranged the capture of Thomas somehow.


    I am immersed in my own thoughts so deeply, I don''t notice Donna come in.


    Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.She looks at me and smiles warmly.


    "That cop still on your mind?" - she says, walking up closer.


    "He got me good." I respond to her, while gazing in the window.


    "There was nothing you could''ve done",- she soothes me and puts a hand on my shoulder. I flinch from it.


    "Making me out as a helpless pup is not really helping, Donna."


    "I''m sorry." - she apologizes.


    I just shrug my shoulders.


    We stand in silence for a few minutes, before Donna speaks again.


    "You need to clear your mind."


    "What do you propose?", - I ask, intrigued.


    "Let''s go." - she takes me by the arm and lead me out of the office. I decide to let her.


    I am standing in the training hall, an enormous room empty of any furniture. Aside from the mats on the floor, there are only multiple stands with shining weapons on them. Those weapons are the ''doremi'', made from enchanted metal and sharp enough to cut through even mine dense bones like butter. Thanks the Gods that no bullets can be made from that metal, or I''d be in serious trouble.


    All of the halflings, except Charlie, are here too, armed with doremi. They formed a circle around me. A thick rag is tied across my face, making me blind. A nessecary handicap for the seven halflings to have a chance.


    Donna is the first to attack. She is fast, her movements are swift: I barely roll out of the way of her sword coming for my head. For me, fighting without eyes is incredibly difficult. My senses are no better than those of a half-blood. After dodging the sword, I duck immediately, awoiding an axe from one of the nameless. He really is not proficient with it, placing his feet so far from each other. I sweep one, causing him to fall on the ground, and pull the punch of my hand right before it hits him. Don''t want to kill the lad, after all. I am about to stand up when I feel a dagger in my back. Dylan, you sneaky bastard. I put my hand on his arm and press so hard, it breaks. He screams loudly then.


    I jump forward and pull out the dagger in the air. Two of the nameless coming for me, also armed with swords. Their movements are too predictable though: with ppen palms I send both flying towards the wall. Then, with an elbow I strike in the chest another, who was flanking me from the left. The snap his bones made caused me to grin unconsciously.


    It''s Donna again. On full aggressive, she swings her sword relentlessly and I can only dodge it by a hair length each time. Donna got much better since we last fought, probably on her peak now. After everything that has happened to her, the determination to learn everything about murdering people is not surprising, to be honest.


    Suddenly, the swings stop. Moreover, I can''t feel not hers, nor the other nameless''es presence. They went invisible. Other pure-bloods can sense through it with ease, but I have to improvise.


    Now, magic is a complicated thing and I am far from the best to explain it. All I can say is that casting spells is like connecting stars in your head. There is a countless number of those stars, some of them similar to each other, some of them completely different. From this vast pool you have to choose the exact stars needed for the spell. I have no idea how the spells are created in the first place or what the limits on them, just know that even using already made ones is extremely difficult without practicing it at least a thousand times.


    With a thought, I push the spell out of my head into the reality. I learned this trick from a sorcerer, who dabbled in the divination magic. It basically allows the user to put a tracker on all the things emitting magic in a small radius. And every living being has at least some magic inside.


    I casted just in time: Donna and the nameless are about to jump me from two sides simultaneously. The spell is very crude and only lets me know the approximate location, but it''s enough. I roll backwards, causing my opponents to crash on each other.


    "


    Fuck!" screams Donna, looking for her missing feet. Her landing on doremi is rough, to say the least.


    Looking at her attempts to reattach her limbs, I just can''t keep the laughter inside.


    She curses and throws her foot at me.


    When it hits my face, Donna and the others begin to laugh with me.


    "That almost worked, though.", - Donna tells me after calming the hysterics.


    "I was going easy on you.", - I chirped.


    Donna placed a hand on her hip and simpered.


    "Glad you''re feeling better."


    "Yeah, thanks." - It never hurts to be polite.


    "So, what''s next?" - Donna asks, putting her sword back at the stand.


    "What do you mean?"


    "Are we going to keep our heads low? Because of the CSN?" - she adds.


    "Don''t be ridiculous, Donna.", I say, - "One human would not change my plans."


    "But -" - she begins, but I interrupt her with a gesture.


    "I''ve never bent over for anyone." - I state, - "and I am not going to start."


    "Fair enough." - she replies, looking at me strangely.


    "What is it?"


    "Just reminded about the phrase I heard from your father, when I used to babysit you." - I catch the sadness in her eyes when she speaks the second part.


    "What''s the phrase?" - I encourage her.


    "Never change yourself for the world," she responds, - "change the world for yourself."


    "My father was a man of many quotes. It was his job requirement, after all."


    Donna chuckles.


    When the sun rises up, I feel ready to take on the next night.

 Chapter Four: Witch Hunt, part one

    It has been a week and a half since I was kicked out of my own home. In all this time, I have not done a single thing to accomplish my goal of returning. I was busy, chasing some insignificant vamps because of Blake, the ghost from my past. Moreover, I was so careless, I let some CNS bastard gain leverage on me. It`s a disaster, if I were to speak plainly. However, I realize my mistakes now and I am not going to repeat them. From now on, I`ll focus every minute of the every night to a single task: harvesting enough power to take on the whole Coalition and beat that impudent government dog. It would not be easy, though. I`ll need information, for starters.


    That is why I am now sitting before a chubby man with balding head and glasses, Mark Beeko. Donna claims that he is an expert on surveillance and there might be something true to the statement: the man looks like the kind to spy on all the women in the neighborhood.


    "So, can you do it?" ¨C I ask him.


    "Find someone without knowing whom I looking for?" ¨C Mark nags me, his little eyes full of greed, - "Well, that depends¡­"


    I open the drawer, pull out a white envelope and put in on the desk.


    "Three thousand Reds there." ¨C I tell him and see his creepy face bright up in joy.


    Three thousand of Red Coins is a lot of money. Enough to buy a decent house, probably.


    "Sure, no problem." ¨C Mark brags, examining the envelope, - "Describe the target."


    "Women, platinum hair and faces that display no age."


    "Friends of yours?" ¨C he wonders, pocketing the envelope.


    "Witches."


    "Wow." ¨C Mark gaspes, - "Do they really eat children?"


    "Once in fifty years." ¨C I clarify.


    "Cool." ¨C he nods, before continuing, - "Give me a few hours, yea?"


    He stands up and extends his hand. I hesitate for a moment, before shaking it.


    "Goodbye, Mr. Beeko." ¨C I say, while wiping my hand from the grease.


    Witches are the best when it comes to supernatural gossip. It`s a professional hazard for them, know everything about everyone. Since I`m new to the city and its paranormal community, it`d be good to have a chat with them. Besides, they might have something on the Inspector.


    While waiting for Mark to report in, I decide to visit Charlie. It`s always good to create an image of the caring boss. The boy is still in infirmary, his injury not healed yet. Vampiric regeneration works in rather confusing ways for half-bloods. Wounds from bullets anywhere, except for the head, would be gone in a matter of hours, but blade and blunt weapons of melee combat would leave traces for days to come.


    When I step into the infirmary, first thing I see is a thirteen-year-old teenager reprimanding Charlie, who looks extremely uncomfortable. It`s Isabelle, his sister with long black curls.


    "You could have died, you idiot." ¨C I hear her say, simultaneously punching Charlie on the arm.


    "Calm down, Isabelle. Master would`ve saved me."


    "I think you put too much faith in this Master." ¨C she tells him, folding her arms across her chest.


    "And I think you`ve got too big of a mouth, little girl." ¨C I decide to join the conversation. It just won`t do for this rebellious child to undermine my authority.Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    Isabelle turns to me with fire in her eyes, but keeps quiet. She surely would be a lot of trouble when she grows up. When that happens, I wonder if it would be more efficient to just get rid of them both.


    "I`m sorry, Master. She didn`t mean anything by it." ¨C Charlie quickly apologizes for his sister, while trying to sit up in his bed.


    "It`s fine.", I reply and flash a hideous smile towards Isabelle, - "What are you doing here, anyway? Weren`t you supposed to be at the movies?"


    She narrows her eyes and sigh exasperatedly.


    "As if I don`t understand that Charlie is hurt whenever you come up with an activity for me."


    "Smart girl." ¨C I say, - "Couldn`t your brother be the same?"


    Charlie laughs at that.


    "Didn`t know you could joke, boss."


    "I have my moments." ¨C I reply.


    "Did something happened, Master? I can walk already, if you need me." ¨C he asks me, signaling Isabelle to go. She looks undecided for a moment, but then leaves.


    "Calm down. I am just checking up on you."


    "Thank you. You`ve done so much for me Master¡­" ¨C he praises and looks at me with an absolute respect, - "I really can`t put into words."


    It all began about a year ago. Charlie was sixteen and as poor as one can be. He was just deemed mature by the orphanage he lived in and let go into the real world. Let go only with his passport and his knowledge of the streets. In the Union, if you work hard enough, everything would be provided for you: food, electronics, a roof over your head. However, who would hire a troubled kid with a record and lacking education? He had to steal, just to survive. That was not the problem though: Charlie always lived in a similar way. What was troubling him, was the fact that Isabelle was up for adoption. That would be incredible, with Isabelle having a better life that she could ever hope for with him, except that the family had a reputation. A bad kind, known for abusing the kids they fostered. The father was an assistant to the local Partyman, so, naturally, no one could stop it. Charlie did the only thing he could then: he broke into the orphanage and destroyed all the paperwork, freezing the adoption for some time. Not two weeks had passed and the new papers were made. Charlie was getting desperate and that is when I found him.


    For every pure blood, it is extremely important to ensure the loyalty of their halflings. They are the ones protecting us during day time, after all. So, when I heard about this situation, I immediately set out to find such a promising prospect. A lonely kid, with nothing to lose, everything to gain and a perfect lever to keep him in check ¨C what more could a vampire ask for? I dealt with the foster family, gently suggesting leaving the girl alone. The sight of a seven feet tall, disfigured creature with glowing red eyes and marble skin can be quite persuasive. In return, I gained a pup second only to Donna in his dedication to me.


    "Don`t mention it.", - I tell him, - "Just keep an eye out for Isabelle. She might get herself in trouble with such an attitude."


    "I`ll do my best, Master."


    I nod at him and leave the infirmary.


    Quarter of a night has passed and I find myself in the company of Mark, the surveillance expert, once again. He wears flip-flops, knee-high denim shorts and a checkered shirt with a stain on it.


    "Did you know" ¨C yaks Mark, falling into a chair, "that the government constantly watches us?"


    "Cameras are everywhere, dude. I wonder if they would soon place recon devises into our TVs and form a division to control our thoughts somehow."


    "Would be easier to do your job that way, wouldn`t it?", I tell him with a pout.


    "Yep." ¨C he answers and gives me an envelope, similar to that which I gave him, "Look inside. That¡¯s who are you looking for?"


    I open it and take out the photos. There are ten of them, all of two different women. The first one is tall and blue-eyed, in every shot looking with unhidden contempt at her surroundings. The other is of average height and emits kindness from every angle.


    "That`s them. You got the address?" ¨C I answer him, putting the photos back.


    "Of course." ¨C he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a piece of paper, - "Maybe, add a little something for a work fast done?"


    "Do you truly have gigantic balls, Mr. Beeko? Or are you just a fool, trying to haggle with me for mere money?"


    He examines me, as if for the first time. He gazes into my eyes, radiating their unearthly red light. His breath quickens and his forehead begins to sweat.


    "My bad.", - says Mark, "Here, take it."


    "Nice doing business with you."


    "Uh-huh." ¨C he replies and leaves, with an admirable speed.


    "Funny guy." ¨C comments Donna, stepping out of the shadows.


    "I hope I haven`t scared him too much." ¨C I tell her, inspecting the paper with printed coordinates on it, "He is quite capable, despite his looks."


    "Don`t think you have to worry about it." ¨C Donna reassures me, giggling. -  "From what I`ve heard, the man will work even with the demons, if they offer enough cash."


    I smile at her.


    "Do you want to go on a hunt, Donna?"


    "Are you serious?" ¨C she asks, licking her lips in anticipation.


    "Yeah." ¨C I answer, - "Witches might need your delicate touch."


    "What are waiting for, then?", - she practically yells, "Let`s go!"