++The practice and knowledge of centuries is something unique to both elves and vampires. It is ironic how many things our kinds share, and how perpetually at odds we are in spite of it…or perhaps because of it.++

  Book 2: Chapter 30

  Anne’s investigation continued in about the same way as it had already started, with the only real benefit being that she was slowly inuring herself to the fear of this strange new place. She managed to corner and interrogate another dozen or so people, all carefully chosen to keep her from being murdered in a random alley, and the answers she received were…mixed.

  Which didn’t mean they were useless, just that she needed to be clever about using them.

  It seemed every other answer she got was telling Anne that the town was ruled by some mysterious figure called ‘The Master’. She didn’t have the foggiest idea who that might have been, of course, save that it wasn’t an elf. Elves didn’t do mystery, when they were in charge the first thing they always made sure to do was make sure that everybody knew it.

  This was not a good thing, because it made it all the more likely that they were in a Vampire Barony after all.

  Anne shivered. So far, she actually had more experience with vampires than most people did. Felt odd to realise, but it was true. She’d met a whole two of them. Ludvich was a dick, but then he’d always been a dick. As a human he’d been the grumpiest man she ever knew, and had only gotten worse after Reginald died.

  Then Reginald…Anne felt a stab of something in her gut as she thought of Reginald. She’d spoken with him back when he was not human but still pretending otherwise, and even then she’d thought there was something familiar about him. Anne wasn’t dumb enough to blame herself for not recognising him beneath the scars, it wasn’t like anyone who’d known him as an adult had, but still…Their talks back then didn’t sit right with her. They made him feel altogether too human.

  But she knew he wasn’t.

  Anne had seen the people dying right before her eyes. Reggie had been threatened, he’d been defending himself, she knew all that and yet…The blood was still lingering in her mind even now. There was nothing human about that, nothing at all. She regretted only that she’d tried to make peace, maybe Kyle would still be alive if he’d not been drawn into hesitation by her cries.

  Maybes and ifs and regrets and could-haves weren’t of any use now, though.

  By the time Anne had her dozen or so answers, it was already getting dark. She started heading back to the inn, and made a hurry of it. Suddenly she felt vulnerable, out here. It was one thing to walk around the town by day but she was now abruptly certain that…something was watching her.

  Too late, she realised that all the people had cleared out long before she did. The streets were empty save for her, and that set her heart racing.

  Anne heard something scrape against the cobbles behind her and turned around, then saw nothing. A rat? No, it was too heavy by far. She’d learned perfectly fucking well how rats sounded when they scurried and that…was no rat.

  So she turned back and started jogging, rather than walking. Somehow Anne just got the feeling that whatever presence she was sharing the street with liked that.

  Somehow, Anne got the feeling that it wanted her to run because it enjoyed a chase.

  ***

  Reggie could tell when the sun was going down by how dark the room got, and by the distant sound of doors closing as people headed inside. That latter fact disturbed him, because a great many people were heading in all at once. In fact, they were heading in as if it was in accordance with some sort of curfew.

  Or a commonly-known danger.That hadn’t been happening when they first arrived, which meant it was a danger known well enough that people had gotten long used to working around it.

  It might have been slightly impulsive of him, maybe his old paranoid streak winning out, but Reggie rolled free of the bed and slipped out through the room’s window. It was fifteen feet down to a cobbled road, the fall, but Reggie didn’t even feel his landing. He wouldn’t have, even if he’d been holding an anvil and hit the ground face-first. Not a moment after his feet touched stone, he started running in search of Anne.

  Reggie halted abruptly as he realised that he didn’t actually know where to search for her. Worse, if he left the inn, where she knew he was, then she could end up returning only to find him gone.

  It felt wrong to stay put, but Reggie had no choice but to admit it was his best chance of actually seeing her again. If something was even going wrong, that was. Maybe she’d just come back and be confused at his sudden worry, that would be—

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  A scream cut through the night. Anne’s scream.

  ***

  Anne didn’t know why she’d screamed, it was such a little girl thing to do. Was she thinking a knight in shining armour would hear her cry? That some golden-maned elven Warrior would come riding over the hills and bring a wash of sunlight with him to save the day? If he did, it would only be to put her and Norvhan to death afterwards. Screaming did nothing, now, save from exciting the thing she was staring at.

  And it was a thing. Tall, almost human, but so clearly wrong. Anne saw the pallour of its face, the jagged fangs jutting from its mouth, the crimson pinpricks of its eyes, and she knew that she was looking at a creature long dead. And it was looking at her.

  She backed away, but that just drew the vampire closer to her. It was barely five paces back, now. It froze when Anne did, so she just remained still and staring.

  A vampire. She was staring down a vampire. What did you do in that situation? All the old stories were coming back to her at once. She hadn’t brought any garlic, didn’t have silver, but there was a length of sharpened wood in her coat tucked away. And a long knife under one sleeve, strapped there just in case that myth was bullshit. If she went for either, she might spur on an attack.

  If an attack came without her already wielding one, it might kill her before she could even draw the weapon out.

  Her fear must have run deep, because it took Anne all of ten seconds, ten seconds spent staring and trembling, to think of the obvious.

  “...Hello,” she said. Could she not talk to the vampire? Were they not, however murderous and bloodthirsty, at the very least intelligent beings?

  Might she not have kept things from spiralling so badly the last time she stared one down, if she’d not panicked and started calling for blood?

  “Hello,” the vampire replied. It smiled, and Anne had to suppress the shiver running down her spine and keep it from spreading to the skin. This creature had been a man once, and the way it looked at her now reminded Anne of all the most lecherous stares she’d ever gotten in her life rolled into one. Like she was a piece of meat. Like her personhood was immaterial compared to her body.

  “I’m new to town,” Anne told him. She pushed the disgust and fear down as deep as it would go and forced a smile. Men liked smiles, and they especially hated the absence of smiles in women. A man who was seeing a smile might be egged on to try and get more from her, but he’d also be mollified for the moment. Right now, moments were all Anne could hope to seize for herself.

  “I know you are,” said the vampire. He came closer. Anne didn’t see him move, just saw him right in front of her where a second earlier there’d been paces between them. This near, she could see the veins under his skin, could see how still and stagnant they were. It sent her back a step with instinctive panic, and the vampire started laughing with a cold rattle that sounded exactly like an amused corpse.

  “What is this?” she snapped. “You like scaring women, is that it?” Anne made herself step back forwards, shrinking the distance between them against her every instinct. She’d already seen—or hadn’t seen—how fast this creature was. If he suddenly lunged, she’d be dead before knowing it, whether they were one pace apart or none. So she might as well make it none and make a show of the fact.

  He seemed to appreciate it, at least enough to let out another chuckle.

  “I do like a bit of fight in my food.”

  “So that’s what I am?” Anne growled. “I’m your food?”

  “Oh yes,” the vampire sneered. “You’re—what the fuck?” Reginald smashed into him exactly like a screaming lunatic mutated into the form of a seven-foot monster. The two vampires hit the cobbled road and dug a trench several times longer than Anne was tall, then exploded apart as a kick caught Reginald in his gut and flung him off.

  Anne was already flinching back, and even still she felt the wind of Reginald passing. Her eyes were blurry, she thought. Then realised that it wasn’t anything to do with her senses, the vampires were just fighting at speeds she couldn’t follow, turning their images into a smear of colour against the air.

  This wasn’t a fight any human had business in joining.

  ***

  Why the fuck did Reggie only ever meet vampires who were more powerful than him? One of life’s great mysteries, and one he didn’t have time to unravel just yet. He was busy fighting a vampire more powerful than him. The creature looked odd in ways he had a hard time putting his finger on, but it was fast as anything.

  Anything except Reggie, that was. He did have the advantage of Speed, just less than he normally enjoyed. And it was armed. The two of them were exchanging blows and turning one another’s swings away. Reggie felt he would’ve held an edge ordinarily, except in matters of swordsmanship he was…complete and total shit.

  While this guy was the exact opposite. Was he a master? Reggie had never seen a master fighter, they weren’t really a thing around Norvhan. His sword seemed to be everywhere it was needed and everywhere Reggie’s wasn’t, slipping past him in spite of any speed and reactions to leave uncountable marks across Reggie’s skin in all the places he least wanted them.

  And he wasn’t trying. Reggie noticed that much, almost instantly. This vampire was barely even putting in any effort to beating him, barely even exerting himself. He had a frown, as he fought, but it seemed to Reggie more like a look of disappointment than anything. Then it all ended. A move too smooth and fast for Reggie to quite follow sent his sword spinning right from his fingers, then the magic blade was twirling high and free of him. Before he could move to snatch it, the other vampire’s blade came up to rest its tip on Reggie’s throat.

  “What sort of fight was that?” he growled. “I find my territory invaded by a fellow unliving, and you can’t even—” he seemed surprised when Reggie jumped forwards to pounce on him, apparently thinking that, for some reason, a vampire would be averse to getting himself skewered through the neck. He clearly hadn’t fought his own kind much.

  Reggie scraped a set of talons across the swordsman’s face and felt skin give way, though saw far less blood than he was used to. Come to think of it, he wasn't so accustomed to fighting other vampires, either. He knew how to fight undead though, and he kept barreling forwards, aiming to bowl his enemy over.

  It worked, and it didn’t. This vampire was as good on his feet as he was with a sword, and Reggie found his efforts to unbalance him in vain. Then the blade was twisted and drawn back as the vampire tried to rip it free of his throat.

  So Reggie bit him on the wrist.