Skarra fired another fireball over her shoulder, hoping to at least distract the Vampire that chased her over the rooftops. All she knew was that if she could last until dawn, she would be safe. Fighting it turned out to be a grave mistake, especially from the gash that nearly chopped her arm off. The great sword it wielded and the precision the Vampire struck with made for a terrible match against anyone. So she resorted to hit-and-run tactics. However, for every fireball she sent back, the Vampire would dodge out of the way with unnatural grace. Although that wasn’t what unnerved her. What did though is, the Vampire had plenty of opportunities to catch her and plenty of opportunities for Skarra to lose him, but whatever she tried, he always maintained the distance between them. Never moving closer yet never straying too far behind, always staying within eyesight and just out of reach for her fireballs to dissipate.

  Skarra knew she couldn’t keep it up for very much longer, noting the downward spiral of her Stamina and Magic draining. Worst of all, she had not landed a single hit. Her thoughts of lasting until dawn quickly vanished when she peered behind her to see the Vampire closer than last time with a feral grin, one that promised death. She realized he had been waiting for her to become tired. Switching tactics, when she landed on the next roof with a heavy thud, she tucked and rolled then darted to the left, heading back towards the denser and livelier part of the town. She hoped that there, the Vampire would become cautious enough to let her go.

  Of course, the Vampire caught on pretty quickly and whipped its greatsword around like it was practicing sword strikes. She thought it was weird until, on its 5th strike, a wave of purple energy came literally shrieking towards her. She quickly ducked out of the way, letting it sail past her and crash into a building. She heard a scream of terror but paid no mind as she jumped down to the street and braced herself against a wall, cradling her wounded arm.

  Her breath came in ragged mouthfuls, and her wounded arm was throbbing, but luckily the bleeding had stopped. She pushed herself off the wall and started running again, heading towards one of The Tome gang’s territories, specifically The Shattered Chain. She had dealings with them now and then, where she bought the slaves and beasts from, but tonight she hoped they would offer sanctuary or ?at least give her some time to regroup.

  She was nearing a main thoroughfare where a few groups of pirates meandered up and down, frequenting the taverns that lined the road. Their shouts and raucous laughter filled her with renewed vigor. Safety, she thought. She was almost to the edge where the light fought away the darkness when she felt something grab her by her collar. On instinct she spun and threw her arm back. She briefly glimpsed the monster and shuddered.

  Hunger. All she saw was pure hunger.

  Her fist made contact, and the monster backed off, slinking back into the shadows as she practically dove into the lighted area of the street. Onlookers took a quick look before carrying on with what they were doing. Skarra, however, scampered ?to her feet with her eyes searching the dark alley until she landed on a pair of dimming green eyes that lingered before vanishing completely. She clutched at her arm, wincing as the adrenaline left her body, reminding her of the wound. She wanted to laugh and cry that she survived but now she knew what lurked in the dark and hoped her gang would hang on until she came back with reinforcements.

  She turned to run, nearly barreling through a group of drunken pirates that shouted obscenities after her as she ran towards the territorial marketplace of The Shattered Chain, which was a front. As she ran, she kept looking over her shoulder, at every shadow, with an eye on the roofs she passed by. The Vampire was still around, and she knew it was as the night was still young and it was hunting. Onlookers kept their heads down as she ran past, not wanting to get involved. When she reached the marketplace that was set before the auction house, she sprinted. She caught the eye of a paid guard of The Shattered Chain, denoted by the red sashes they wore around their waists.

  “Lady Skarra?” The guard flagged her down, and she turned to him, running at him that made him nervous enough to hover his hand over his scimitar.

  The guard took a moment to look at her disheveled appearance, her wounded arm, and the wide-eyed panic that she tried to hide that stopped him from fully drawing his blade. Questions sprouted, but before he could ask them, she gripped him by the collar, yanking him towards her. “Take me to Nat-Jirellis. Right. Fucking. Now,” she said through bloodied teeth, then pushed him back.

  Wordlessly, the guard nodded and turned to escort her through the marketplace, leading her directly to the front door of an opulent auction house that was a sharp contrast to the rundown buildings around it. At this time of night, only those who were interested in more tasteful things frequented the house. Shady merchants, who quickly shuffled in and out of the building, speaking in hushed whispers, rushed past her as the guard escorted her up the steps.

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  At the entrance, the guard spoke to the two Wood Elves, who were dressed in clean black suits and white ties. Skarra looked all around her, sweeping her gaze all around her, even behind her, searching and hoping not to see what lurked. A part of her wanted to rush past and find Nat-Jirellis himself, but that would be treated as an act of war, so she settled for waiting, albeit anxiously.

  The guard turned back to her. “They will take you to him,” he said, then stepped aside, allowing ?one of the Wood Elves to beckon her forth to follow through the large double doors. She took once cursory glance around at her surroundings and she stiffened as she felt her heart seize in her chest. There, atop one of the roofs a humanoid shaped shadow wafted in the breeze before disappearing. She blanched when she realized he had only been chasing her to get her to lead him to his next target. She played right into his hands without noticing. “Fuck!” she thought.

  Inside they rushed past the clerk counter, past the main bidding hall, and past the VIP section, heading all the way to the back where a set of stairs lay. They went up the stairs, taking a left at the top, then went down a dimly lit hallway, stopping before a frosted glass door that was guarded by two heavily armed and armored Orcs. They eyed the Wood Elf and Skarra alike without a word then dismissed them, judging them as non-threatening. The Wood Elf turned to her, holding up a hand and then knocked once before entering and shutting the door behind him.

  Skarra took the chance to finally relax, leaning against the nearby wall, inside she was safe at least. She looked down at her arm, which was healing a little, but it wouldn’t be usable anytime soon if she needed to fight. In that moment, she also took time to think over the fight with the Vampire. It was a progenitor for starters, which didn’t bode well, it was immune to fire, which rendered her useless against it, and it was faster and stronger than she expected it to be.

  Her thoughts were cut short when the Wood Elf exited. “Mr. Nat will see you now,” he said emotionlessly, bowing his head once before leaving back the way they came.

  Skarra winced as she moved, realizing she was more hurt than she originally thought. Stepping to the door, she reached for the handle, turning it and pushing the door open. She entered the large office, where a stone fireplace crackled, basking the room in its warm glow. Two plush seats with a small round end table sat facing the fireplace. Along the ledge, trinkets and gems lined it, and above, was a mounted head of a drake as the centerpiece. On her right side, bookshelves that were built from the bottom to the top as part of the room were lined with books and magical tomes. In the center, a massive obsidian desk with a high-backed black leather chair occupied the room where a brute of an Orc, almost as tall and wide as a troll, dressed in an immaculate black suit that glimmered with each movement, exuding the wealth he had at his fingertips, stood looking out a large paned window that overlooked a part of Ebira.

  He turned slightly, holding a gem-encrusted goblet that still looked too small in his large hands that could easily crush a medium-sized boulder to dust. Yellow eyes greeted her, eyeing her appearance, and he scoffed before sucking his teeth. Skarra didn’t know how he could do that with the large tusks protruding from his lower jaw before he fully turned to her, stepping into the warm light from the fireplace.

  “Well, this is a surprise,” the Orc rumbled. “I wasn’t expecting you for another month or so. Your play things escaped, I take it?” he gestured at her with his goblet before taking a sip from it.

  Skarra clenched her jaw. “We have a problem, Nat-Jirellis,?” she said, looking away from him and at the fireplace.

  Nat-Jirellis let out a booming laugh before taking his hand out of his pocket to run it over his dark red hair that was slicked back. “A problem?” he chuckled. “What could possibly be so bad that you come here with your tail between your legs?” he asked her with a cruel grin.

  If she could, she would have thrown the Orc out of the window by now. “Surely you know what happened with my gang and Thassor’s a couple nights ago?” she began.

  “Heard about it. Also heard the Dark Elves vacated overnight practically,” he replied, taking another sip from his goblet.

  Skarra let out a shaky breath. “I came face to face with it tonight. I think it killed Thassor.”

  He raised his perfectly trimmed eyebrows. “And what was it?” He looked at with a discerning gaze, placing his goblet down on the obsidian desk. He had heard whispers about it from his boys, but it was more so rumors about a new gang trying to come up and make themselves known.

  “How much do your people know of Vampires?” Skarra asked, turning her heated gaze towards him when the memories flashed forward, filling her with a burning anger at it and the disgust she felt for herself at feeling powerless against it and running.