In pop culture, vampires are always shown holding an elegant glass of red wine. I guess it’s because it looks like blood or sothing. Anyway, to be honest, I find red wine disgusting — I’d much rather have an ice-cold beer.
I love beer — almost as much as I love Veronica’s blood. I’d drink it at every al, but she forbids it because she says she doesn’t want ending up with a beer belly at eighteen.
But whether it’s wine, beer, or any other kind of alcohol, what really matters is who you drink it with. And that’s why even beer doesn’t go down as easily when I have to share it with him: John Hardley, one of New York’s rising stars in organized cri. A man in his forties with slicked-back black hair and piercing ice-blue eyes — an old-school gangster look, or at least that’s what he tries to project.
He moved to New York only a couple of years ago, yet he’s already seized a huge chunk of the criminal underworld — helped, unsurprisingly, by the so-called "mysterious" deaths of nearly all his competitors. But his teoric rise isn’t just a matter of brains or charisma.
John Hardley is a demon.
Yeah — flesh and blood, a real demon. And I’m pretty sure the way he looks around is just so human disguise shaped by whatever twisted demonic magic he uses. I have no idea what he actually looks like underneath.
Sounds insane, right? I always thought I was the only one of my kind, but apparently this world is crawling with demons, vampires, and other creatures that seem like they stepped right out of a fantasy novel — all coming from a parallel world called Elyndra.
And as much as I hate John — just being near him gives chills — everything I know about my species and the world I co from, I learned from him. Even though I still have no clue how I ended up here. For as long as I can rember, I lived in the orphanage where Veronica found , and thank God she pulled out of that place. Just a couple of years later, around age twelve, I started feeling that uncontrollable urge to drink blood, and things would’ve gotten ssy fast if I’d still been trapped inside those old, moldy walls.
«Jace Lance, I hope you’ve had ti to consider my offer since we last spoke,» he says, sipping a glass of red wine.
We’re sitting on a couch inside one of his many clubs scattered across New York — this one in Queens. I’d bet anything that the way he sips that wine so pompously is just an act to look sophisticated. I an, I doubt anyone actually enjoys that crap.
Yeah... his offer: joining his criminal organization. Ever since he showed up in this city, he’s been recruiting every creature from Elyndra he can get his hands on, and by now there are dozens of them. I had no clue so many lived in New York alone.
It was a freezing winter night last year when one of his lackeys caught drinking a holess guy’s blood after killing him, and ever since, he hasn’t stopped pestering to join his little army.
But seriously — why the hell would I throw away my luxurious, comfortable life with Veronica just to beco his hitman? Only a desperate idiot would say yes to sothing like that.
«Sa answer as last ti — and the ti before that,» I say firmly as I get up from the armchair, glancing around for the exit. «Co on, John — I’ve got nothing to gain by joining you. And besides, I’m way too young to get myself killed by so Monster Slayer.»
Yeah... the Monster Slayers. John told about them too, though you don’t need a genius to figure out what they are: humans gifted with sacred powers, trained since childhood to hunt and eliminate creatures like and John — beings that aren’t supposed to exist in this world.
I already put my neck on the line every night when I go out to feed, and I have zero intention of playing with fire more than I already do.
John doesn’t even blink at my answer — he’d probably be more shocked if I accepted with a big smile.
Ah... I wonder if he’ll ever give up and let live the peaceful life of a normal Arican teenager...
«Since I made you co all the way out here, at least let give you a ride ho,» John offers as he sees getting up from the couch — my reaction clearly telling him that, as far as I’m concerned, our little conversation is over.
Sure, I’m pretty far from the Midtown Manhattan penthouse I live in, but only an idiot would get into the car of a cri boss — especially when that cri boss is also a demon. Besides, the idea of taking a relaxing moonlit walk actually sounds pretty tempting right now, and on top of that, talking to John has made ... a bit hungry. If you know what I an.
And anyway, I’m in no rush to get ho tonight — Veronica thinks I’m sleeping over at Naomi’s, so I’ve got all the ti in the world.
After I turn him down yet again, John just gives one of those heavy, fatherly pats on the shoulder — like he’s trying to encourage . This man is getting a bit too friendly for my taste — he doesn’t... like , does he?Shit, I really hope not — gross!
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