— Peccatum Housing Authority, “Quarterly Urban Development Report”, page 42
Emily stared at the collapsed woman. Another passed-out drunk? But the snow-white hair plastered to the woman’s face said otherwise. It was the Monster Hunter! Had to be! Upon closer inspection, the hunter was soaking wet and looked distressed.
“Are you okay?” Emily rushed beside the hunter and rolled her face up. Emily's fingertips felt warm and sticky. She inspected the hunter. Blood was flowing from an abdominal gash. By the damage on the clothing, it had to be from stab wounds. “Please don’t be dead.” Emily's heart raced as dread set in. What happened? The woman seemed fine at The Pawnbroker's church.
No matter. Without medical attention, the woman would bleed out. Emily scanned the alley for anything that would help. Nothing useful. Did the woman have anything useful on her? Perhaps in her pockets. As Emily rustled through the woman's clothing, her fingers brushed against something cold and smooth. An unmarked, clear glass vial was strapped securely to the woman’s belt. Emily held it up to the faint moonlight and watched the liquid inside sparkle like diamonds. Was it medicine? Poison? Alcohol maybe? It had to do something, right? She uncorked it, but before she could pour it, her eyes caught something she hadn’t expected to see. The wound on the woman’s stomach began closing with a wet, sickly sound, like mashed fruit sloshing around. It was healing. Not over weeks, or even over hours. Torn flesh was knitting itself back together before her very eyes. Soon, the deep gash was sealed shut, as if it had never been there at all.
Emily reeled back, and her eyes went wide. “What the…”
She checked the other wounds, and surely enough, they had all healed as well; all except the ugly, raw gash running along her arm. The edges of the wound were blackened, the flesh beneath blistered and cracked like she had been burned from the inside out. Unlike the other wounds on her body, it wasn’t healing, but aside from that, it looked like she was going to live. Right? Emily didn’t know. She hadn’t seen anything like this before. The woman had the ears of an elf, but even Emily knew elves couldn’t heal this quickly.
“Hey?” Emily corked the vial of sparkling liquid and nudged her. “You okay?”
Nothing.
Emily pressed her ear to the woman’s chest and listened to the slow beat of her heart. She was definitely alive. But how? Emily could find out later. This was definitely the woman The Pawnbroker had told her about. Everything from the get-up to what she just saw, there was not a shroud of doubt in her mind. Emily contemplated dragging the woman inside somewhere, but with how close to the riverfront they were, the only places they could seek shelter were in the warehouses, and from the looks of it, the woman was too heavy to drag anyway.
It was cold out, but if this woman could magically heal her wounds, she could survive in the cold for a bit. But that got Emily thinking; this woman, this monster hunter, she was attacked by something, and if this woman was strong enough to kill vampires, then whatever attacked her must be stronger. Must still be out there. What if it was looking for her? Emily gulped. If she was going to wait out in the cold for this woman to wake up, she would need to be ready. In case that happened.
Emily looked at the gun on the woman’s belt, and took it. She was surprised by how heavy the revolver was. Emily had seen plenty of pistols before, but this one looked expensive. It was shiny and detailed, with an engraved handle and markings etched into the steel. She turned it over in her hands. She had lost count of how many times she had been on the wrong end of one of these. Holding it now, she felt something shift in her chest. A strange, uneasy thrill. She raised it, pointing at a knocked-over garbage can a few feet away. Just to see what it felt like.
Her finger slipped.
Click.
Emily’s heart stopped.
For a split second, she thought she had fired it. But nothing happened. No gunshot, no recoil.
It was empty.
Emily let out a shaky breath, lowering the gun. Her hands felt clammy.
“Hey!”
Emily jumped, and the gun clattered to the ground.
The silver-haired woman sat up slowly. Her arm buckled as she tried to support herself. Her voice was deeper than Emily was expecting, almost scratchy. “What… are you doing?”
Emily tensed. “Uh, nothing. I was just… inspecting it…”
The woman’s gaze locked onto her. Even in the dim alley, her eyes gleamed like molten silver, practically glowing in the low light.
Wait… silver eyes?
Emily’s whole body seized up.
Vampire.
“Oh shit,” she muttered, scooting back instinctively. Her heart pounded. Emily tried to force her face into something neutral and calm, even though her insides were screaming. This woman, the one whom The Pawnbroker said could help her, was a vampire herself? Emily didn’t want to believe it, but then she saw the woman’s fangs as her lip pulled back into a snarl.
The woman reached for the gun, but the moment she moved, she hissed. She recoiled, her fingers gripping her forearm tightly. “Fuck!” she groaned.
Emily snatched the gun back up and aimed it at her, the barrel shaking as she held it up. “Don’t move!”
The woman didn’t even look phased. “You need to run,” she rasped, leaning against the alley wall. “There’s a vampire nearby.”
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Emily gulped. Yeah, you!
The woman stared back for a moment, her eyes narrowing as realization covered her face. “No. Not me. Another one.”
Emily hesitated. Was that a trap? “Another one?”
“Wait…” The woman’s brow furrowed. “You know how to spot a vampire?”
“Gets easier when you’ve had one in your face.”
The woman looked Emily over, and it looked as though another revelation came to her. “Family?”
“And my friends. My home.”
The woman scoffed. “Well, even if I was a threat, that gun isn’t going to do you any good.” She held her hand out. “Give it to me.”
“What do you think I am, stupid?”
“I’m not going to hurt you, but I need that back. I’m a monster hunter. Name’s Mina.”
Emily tilted her head. A vampire hunting another vampire? There was no way this woman was telling the truth. Looking deep into her silver eyes, though, Emily couldn’t help but feel like she was. “The Pawnbroker said you could help me…” she said, keeping her gun aimed at her.
Mina raised an eyebrow. “Nows not a good time.”
“He said you might train me to kill vampires. He didn’t mention that you were one…”
Slowly, Mina’s gaze sharpened, and the longer Emily stared into her eyes, the more uneasy it made her feel. She should have walked away when she had the chance. Now she was going to get her blood sucked.
“How old are you?” Mina asked.
She didn’t trust this woman, but she didn’t look like she wanted to hurt her either, not like that other one. “S-Seventeen,” Emily replied hesitantly.
Mina nodded, staring deeper into her soul. “Where did the vampire attack you?”
“Pillio’s Watch. Eight months ago.”
Mina went completely still. “What’s your name?”
Emily hesitated again. She should lie. Give a fake name. She had done it before. But for some reason, under Mina’s unflinching gaze, she said, “…Emily.”
Mina blinked. Her silver eyes were wide with disbelief.
“What?” Emily demanded. “What is it?”
“You’re from Pillio’s Watch?”
“…Yeah?”
“Arthur? Clara?”
Emily’s eyes went wide. She sat up straight, practically jumping to her feet. “My dad? Mom? You knew my parents?”
Mina exhaled. “Just… hold on a second.” She straightened, despite the obvious pain it caused her. “Your hands. Show them to me.”
Emily flinched. “What? Why? What about—”
“Just show me your hands,” Mina repeated, more sternly.
She swallowed and hesitantly lifted her free hand, showing the woman her palms..
Mina just stared at them. She didn’t move or even breathe. She looked like she was staring at something impossible. After a moment, Mina braced herself against the alley wall and forced herself to her feet, gripping her injured arm. She swayed as her legs trembled beneath her. “Early tonight, there was an incident further down the riverfront. An entire street destroyed… was it you?”
Emily gulped. “... no…”
Mina stared.
“What?”
“You’re the Conduit.”
Emily blinked. “The what?”
Mina didn’t answer.
Emily lowered the gun. She didn’t know what was going on, or why the woman was looking at her like she was seeing a ghost.
Suddenly, Mina snatched the gun from Emily’s hand and reloaded it so fast it was almost impossible to believe. “Yes, I’ll help you. But you need to come with me now.”
Emily’s gut twisted into knots. She wanted to believe and trust that Mina was telling the truth, but how could she? She was a vampire. The same monster that took everything from her. But then again, she was the only one she could find who was finally giving her a chance.
Before Emily could respond, Mina froze, her head snapping upward.
A shadow streaked across the sky. A bird?
Emily looked at her, confused. “What is it?”
Mina took Emily by the arm. Her grip was ironclad, and Emily was helpless to resist as she was pulled through the alley.
“Hey!” she cried out, stumbling over her own feet. “Let me go!”
Mina kept running, pulling her along.
Another shadow passed overhead. The bird again?
They cut across the empty streets and weaved through the alleys. Emily tried breaking free while she kept pace, but there was no escaping the vampire’s grasp.
The Pawnbroker’s church loomed ahead.
The shadow swooped overhead again.
“Shit,” Mina growled. She yanked Emily into the alley behind the building and tried the back door.
It was locked.
Mina took a step back, kicked the door, and dragged Emily inside. She slammed it shut behind them, then immediately yanked down nearest shelf to barricade the back entrance. Glass, books, and trinkets crashed onto the hardwood floor.
Emily was finally free of the vampire’s grasp. She grabbed her wrist, massaging it as she watched Mina hurry across the storeroom. Rows of overstuffed shelves stretched across the space, stacked high with all manner of discarded antiques.
“Can you please tell me what’s going on?” Emily asked again.
Another door suddenly flew open, and The Pawnbroker hobbled inside with a coach gun aimed right at them.
Emily froze.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” The Pawnbroker barked.
Mina barely spared him a glance. “He’s here,” she said.
The Pawnbroker’s grip tightened on the gun. He looked to Emily for a split second, then back to Mina. “And you led him here?”
Mina ignored him, grabbing a sheathed sword off the wall.
“You’re not taking that,” The Pawnbroker snapped. “And you’re sure as hell not using my church to hide.”
“We won’t make it to the stagecoach,” Mina shot back, unsheathing the blade. The steel gleamed in the dim candlelight. “We need weapons. You have more than enough.”
“You don’t get to decide that! These are my belongings!”
Mina stared daggers at him. “They won’t be if you’re dead.” She then reached for her belt, and her face went paler than normal. She started desperately searching her pockets.
Emily reached into her own and held out the clear vial of sparkling liquid. “This?”
Mina snatched it, and immediately coated her blade in it. “Emily, I need you to hide back here.”
The Pawnbroker followed Mina out onto the showroom floor, and Emily, for whatever reason, followed them. Her legs carried her, even though she was screaming internally to hide. That’s all she wanted to do. Hide. Run. Get away from whatever was happening.
Then, just as she stepped out onto the showroom floor, the massive Rosetta window shattered with an earsplitting crash. Jagged shards of stained glass rained into the showroom like a thousand falling daggers.
Mina jumped in front of Emily, shielding her.
A massive shape streaked through the broken window, curling in on itself as a swirling cloud of mist erupted around it. The unnatural mist slithered outward, snaking across the wooden floor in thick, curling tendrils.
And from it, a man emerged.
He was tall. Dressed in sleek, black clothes. His hands were smeared with drying blood, and more dripped from his neck, staining his high-collared coat. And worst of all, his eyes were silver.
Emily tensed.
They weren’t like Mina’s. They were cold and furious. The man held two swords. One was as black as the night sky, and the other gleamed silver.
One look at him, and Emily knew he wasn’t just a vampire. He was something worse.
The Pawnbroker took a step back.
Mina, however, did not move. Her gun stayed trained on him.
The man tilted his head slightly and let out a low, taunting chuckle. “Finally.”
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