The plan had seemed simple at first.

  Until they examined it more closely.

  "We’re going to need far too much gold…" Iriel concluded while studying the route map Lucen had pointed out.

  "We could go this way," Lucen said, pointing to another path. "We’d avoid three checkpoints."

  "Yes, but that road detours too much. We’d need more fuel." Iriel analyzed the map with one hand on his chin. "I think we should wait a while and save up."

  Lucen looked at him with both hands resting on the table and huffed, already regretting what he was about to say.

  "Or we could use Dharla’s method…"

  On the following turn, Lucen left the Shire earlier than usual, leaving Iriel in charge as his replacement while he went to the center of Noctia to wait at the entrance of the Council building. The structure rose over the plaza like a cathedral of black stone and dark glass, far too large for the city that surrounded it.

  He hadn’t been there long when he saw him come out.

  "Kaerath!" he called just as the noble vampire stopped to light a cigarette.

  At the sound of his surname, the vampire turned and smiled with surprise—and the characteristic malice that always accompanied it—when he saw Lucen walking toward him.

  "Vaedren…" he said after exhaling reddish smoke and turning fully to walk toward him. "I never imagined seeing you around here."

  They clasped hands and bumped chests and shoulders in greeting.

  "Didn’t you choose to work in a Shire to stay as far away from your brother as possible?"

  "Half-brother. And yes, I prefer working on the outskirts of the city. But I figured I could grab a drink with an old classmate."

  Kaerath smiled sideways. He wasn’t stupid. He knew there was something more behind that, but he could never refuse the phrase *grab a drink.*

  "Just around the corner they serve the best red whisky."

  Lucen smiled.

  "You always know the good spots."

  They arrived at an underground bar.

  Kaerath was clearly a regular there, because he immediately ordered "the usual table and a bottle of red whisky with two glasses." The waitresses were mostly women—and mostly human—dressed to kill… vampire trousers like his.

  "You’ll have to excuse me, Vaedren," the blond said as he sat down. "I don’t remember your new name. When I saw you I almost called you by the old one, so I just used your last name." He laughed.

  "Lucen," he reminded him calmly, keeping up the act. Inside, he knew that if Kaerath had called him by his old name, he wouldn’t have reacted well at all, and his plan would have died right there.

  "Lucen," Kaerath repeated, as if tasting the name. "And why do you call me by my last name?"

  Lucen shrugged.

  "Habit, I guess. Since we graduated from the institute I don’t usually see vampires who know you personally. For most people you’re Kaerath, the Noble of the Council’s Enforcement Corps, not Rheon."

  A human waitress approached wearing nothing but black vinyl lingerie, carrying the whisky bottle and the two glasses.

  Rheon smiled hungrily when he saw her, and she returned the smile seductively.

  "The usual, Mr. Kaerath?"

  He shifted in his chair, stretching one leg out from the table so she could sit, maintaining that cruel elegance typical of House Kaerath—as if every gesture of his were meant to be obeyed.

  "Of course, baby."

  The human sat down and brushed her hair aside, exposing her neck.

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  Rheon didn’t waste a second sinking his fangs into it.

  The human moaned softly and allowed him to drink without resistance.

  Lucen maintained his composure. He couldn’t show disapproval toward Rheon or the establishment that allowed such things. He had to sit there and wait for the Noble to finish, pretending he had no issue with wealthy vampires buying humans from the Shires to put them on the menus of bars like this.

  Meanwhile he poured himself some whisky. Before tasting it he studied the label. He didn’t recognize it, but it looked expensive. Like most of Rheon’s tastes.

  When Kaerath finally felt satisfied—for the moment—and pulled his blood-covered mouth away from the young human, he looked at Lucen.

  "Want some?"

  Lucen shook his head.

  The blond released the human, and when she stood to leave, pretending she could still walk steadily, he slapped her ass.

  Rheon wiped his mouth and looked back at Lucen, who was tasting the drink.

  "It’s really good," Lucen admitted while studying the liquid in his glass. He wasn’t lying.

  "I told you. Best thing you can get in Noctia."

  The orange-eyed vampire nodded, impressed.

  Then he looked back at Rheon.

  "You really do live well."

  "You could’ve chosen the same life." He smiled that malicious smile again while offering him a cigarette. "You might not be a Noble vampire, but having a brother on the Council gives you plenty of benefits."

  "Half-brother," Lucen corrected again, lighting the cigarette. "I’d rather not owe favors."

  "I get that."

  A brief silence settled between them.

  "Anyway, Lucen. What do you want to ask me for?"

  "I want to go hunting with Iriel."

  Rheon raised an eyebrow.

  "Really?" he asked, impressed but skeptical. "Why?"

  "I’m curious," Lucen answered simply. "I’ve never done it. I want to know what it feels like to be a real predator."

  Kaerath lit a cigarette, analyzing the words.

  "That’s a very good reason. We are predators. It’s natural you’d feel the urge to hunt. But…" he exhaled reddish smoke. "Are you sure this has nothing to do with your father’s kidnapping?"

  "Of course it does." Lucen smiled with the same malice Rheon used. "I want answers. And while I’m at it I want to unleash this side of me that needs to feel like it’s not a machine. I spend all my time in the Shire pretending to befriend the Strays just to get information from them. I want to go to the Edge and tear apart every Stray I find."

  Rheon stared at him for a moment.

  Then he smiled.

  "I get it, brother. Every time I go hunting I’m left wanting more." He laughed. "It’s a one-way trip. After that you won’t be able to go back to drinking blood from those shitty packets."

  He took a sip of whisky.

  "Want me to arrange an early vacation for you?"

  "Yes. And I also need advice. Which route to take to avoid checkpoints without detouring too much. Places to stop and things like that."

  "Got a vehicle?"

  "A motorcycle."

  "That might work. To reach the border it’s better to travel by car, but once you’re moving around the Edge a bike is better, if it’s in good condition. If it’s falling apart, you’re screwed."

  "I had it serviced recently. It’s perfect."

  Rheon inhaled from his cigarette and nodded.

  "What do you have to give me in return?"

  Later, during that hour when the humans of the Shires are either having dinner or about to sleep, Lucen and Rheon walked between perfectly aligned houses.

  The artificial lights that would normally bother them enough to require dark glasses were turned off, and the place was mostly silent, interrupted only by their footsteps.

  "Damn, you keep your sector nice, huh," Rheon observed. "Well, I guess this is the kind of thing humans like."

  "Do you visit many sectors?"

  The question made Rheon laugh quietly, and he let that be his answer.

  "It’s here." Lucen stopped in front of a house and knocked. "Mr. Lopez, it’s Vaedren."

  The door opened quickly and Mr. Lopez looked at them in confusion.

  "What are you doing here so late, Vaedren?"

  The human’s tone lacked the respect he had shown before. Lucen ignored it and instead gestured to the noble vampire beside him.

  "I wanted to introduce you to Mr. Rheon Kaerath."

  At the sound of that surname, Mr. Lopez’s eyes widened.

  "He is a Noble vampire working for the Enforcement Corps of the Night Council."

  Each word glorified the already proud Rheon even more. He smiled arrogantly.

  "Kaerath?" the man asked, stunned.

  "From the main branch," Rheon clarified proudly. "Our mutual friend here, Lucen, told me you have a daughter interested in becoming a vampire’s familiar. Is that true?"

  The human nodded quickly and stepped aside to let them enter.

  "Yes, my beautiful Denisse. Please, come in."

  He invited them to sit at the dining table, but neither did while the man went to fetch the young woman from her room.

  They silently examined the place while waiting.

  Mr. Lopez soon returned, practically dragging his sleepy daughter with him. She was a young woman with long copper-blonde hair and hazel eyes that barely stayed open, wearing short pajamas.

  "Denisse, this is Mr. Kaerath," he told his daughter, trying to contain his overflowing excitement. "He’s interested in taking you as a familiar."

  The girl’s eyes suddenly seemed wide awake.

  "Really?" she asked, with an emotion Lucen couldn’t tell was excitement or terror. Her hands trembled slightly, though she tried to smile.

  "Yes."

  Rheon’s eyes seemed to ignite with hunger as he stepped closer to her.

  He inspected her closely, studying her curves. He even took her by the jaw with a dangerous delicacy that made her sigh when the vampire’s cold skin touched hers.

  Lucen swallowed.

  He remembered Mrs. Raquel’s words.

  *We are cattle.*

  And despite everything, there he was.

  Watching a vampire inspect the cattle.

  "Do you smoke?"

  "No."

  Rheon’s gaze turned slightly threatening.

  "No, sir." the young woman corrected quickly.

  The vampire smiled again, pleased that the human knew her place.

  "Drugs?"

  "No, sir."

  The Noble glanced toward Lucen with something between approval and satisfaction.

  "She looks good. But I have to taste her."

  "As quietly as possible, please," Lucen requested calmly. "We don’t want to disturb the other humans."

  Mr. Lopez guided Rheon and Denisse to her bedroom and closed the door, then returned to the dining room with Lucen.

  They waited in silence.

  At one point a sound escaped from the room—something like a moan. Neither could tell whether it was pain or pleasure.

  Lucen wished it would end immediately.

  Everything inside him screamed that what was happening in that room was wrong. That he should stop Rheon.

  But this was the price of searching for the truth.

  After several minutes that felt eternal, Rheon stepped out of the room, zipping up his pants.

  His mouth was covered in blood, and that smile Lucen hated so much was still there.

  "Mr. Lopez, we have a deal. Take advantage while she’s sleeping to prepare everything. I’ll take her in a few hours."

  He patted the man’s shoulder, satisfied.

  Then he turned toward Lucen.

  "Shall we handle the paperwork at the office?"

  Shortly after finishing the "paperwork"—the term chosen to summarize everything Lucen had asked Rheon for—Lucen and Iriel were already speeding down the road on the motorcycle toward the West.

  The route had been mapped out and they traveled it without problems.

  They stopped only for fuel and to switch drivers.

  After about eighteen hours they reached the border: an immense wall that marked the edge of vampire territory belonging to the **United Confederation of the Noctis River**.

  Beyond that wall there was only Stray territory.

  And the mountains.

  "Identification," one of the guards demanded.

  Lucen handed over the fake Night Council Enforcement Corps identification Rheon had obtained for him. Vampires working for the Council were never denied exit.

  "He’s my dhampir servant," he added, handing over Iriel’s identification. Saying that made him deeply uncomfortable. "I need him."

  The guard raised an eyebrow and examined both of them.

  Then he inspected the IDs and handed them back without another word.

  "You may proceed."

  He stepped aside just as the gate behind him opened, revealing a landscape without roads.

  Iriel started the motorcycle again.

  And they rode into that unknown and hostile territory.

  The Edge.