What a shitty day.
As if seeing Kimberly walk into that Church of the God of Light this afternoon wasn’t bad enough, now I’ve got John Hardley’s thugs all over , trying to rope into their pathetic gang. This ti it’s Hank Dalloran’s turn — one of John’s top two guys. A bald, hulking wall of muscle with exactly zero brain cells, easily over two ters tall. And of course, he’s a demon too.
I ran into him earlier in an alley in the Bronx — though "ran into" makes it sound accidental, and we both know damn well it wasn’t. They’ve been on my ass nonstop. I swear, one day I’ll kill them all, one by one — John, Hank, and every single bastard in that criminal nest who refuses to leave alone for even a second.
At least John Hardley is a demon with at least a little culture and intelligence. He gives chills, and he’s unbearably smug — always acting like he’s got everything under control... but at least the guy can form a coherent sentence.
Hank can’t. I don’t think he’s ever opened a book in his life, and even a three-year-old kid would probably sound more educated than him.
«Are you planning to stare at all night while I feed, or what?!» I snap nervously, sitting with my back against the wall.
I’m sipping low-grade blood straight from the severed head of the guy I just decapitated — drinking it like soup from a bowl — while that bald idiot Hank keeps staring at like I’m so kind of circus freak.
The guy I just killed should probably thank , honestly — judging by the state he was in, I definitely did him, and everyone who had to deal with him, a favor. He must’ve been running on so insane mix of alcohol and drugs; the mont he saw , he even called "mom".
His blood tastes like absolute shit — he was practically dead even before I sliced his head clean off with one sharp swing of my solid-blood axe. That’s why I always rinse my palate afterward with a few drops of Veronica’s exquisite blood.
«Why don’t you want to join us? You’d get a lot of benefits working with Mr. Hardley,» Hank asks in that usual caveman grunt of his.
Weird that he managed to form a coherent sentence — though honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if John made him morize it.
«Oh yeah? And what kind of benefits would those be?» I reply, shooting him a sideways glance.
Hank mutters sothing — random, incoherent grunts.
Did he already forget what he was supposed to say? What an idiot...
In the end, Hank can’t string together a single proper sentence, and silence falls between us again. And yet he doesn’t move an inch; he just keeps staring down at from the top of his massive, over-two-ter fra. He’s seriously getting on my nerves — if he doesn’t leave in the next minute, I swear I’ll kill him.
But I don’t even have ti to complain before—
FLASH!
A burst of white light floods the entire alley for a split second. I jerk my head upward.
What the hell was that?
But my concern turns into full-blown panic the mont that idiot Hank says two very clear words: «Monster Slayer!»
Shit.
Luckily, vampire reflexes are way faster than human ones — that’s the only reason I manage to dodge, at the very last second, the diving slash that slams into the spot where my head was, ripping a chunk out of the asphalt.
But what’s even worse... that’s no normal sword. I have no fucking idea what it is, but it’s definitely not made of tal, even if it’s shaped like one. It looks more like... solid light.
Yeah, I know — absurd. How the hell can light be solid? Don’t ask — that’s just what it looks like. So glowing material that doesn’t even look solid, but the crater it left says otherwise. I don’t even want to imagine what would’ve happened if it had hit .
And the one wielding that sword... she’s definitely a woman. I can’t be wrong about this kind of thing. She’s covered head to toe in a long black cloak and even wears a completely white mask, but those hourglass hips and those firm, well-toned thighs showing under the tight suit leave no room for doubt. Yeah — unmistakably female.
But the worst part is that her entire body is glowing with the sa blinding light the sword is made of — she looks like a fucking lightbulb. A walking one that wants to slice into pieces.
So idiot might say, «Hey, there’s two of you and one of her, it’ll be easy!»
No! That son of a bitch Hank bolted the instant he saw the angry lightbulb woman drop down on !
The one ti that athead could’ve actually been useful, he runs for his life!
He didn’t even think to yell sothing like, «I’ll help you — but only if you join us!»
If he’d said that, I’m not saying I’d have agreed — but I would’ve at least considered it. Too bad he’s too stupid to think that far.
The Monster Slayer, standing just a couple ters away, swings again. I manage to intercept her strike with my axe, but—
CRACK!
The blade of my weapon shatters instantly on contact with hers, leaving holding nothing but the handle.
Shit — this woman is insanely strong and fast! How the hell is she even human?! I need a plan — anything!
I swear, if I survive this, I’ll stop hunting random junkies for blood!
Even though honestly, they should be thanking — I’m cleaning up the garbage clogging these streets. I’m a fucking superhero fighting cri! And this is the thanks I get?! Getting chopped up by a Monster Slayer?! Fuck off!
She lunges again, aiming straight for my heart — the one part of my body I can’t regenerate, along with my neck — and I dodge by a hair.
The problem is... I’m in a goddamn dead end. My back hits the wall.
Fuck — why did I run into a dead end?!
Note to self: never again run into a dead end.
Oh right, I already swore that if I survived, I’d stop hunting humans. Fine, then — no more hunting humans... in dead ends.
And now, Vampire God, please don’t let die! Wait... is there even a Vampire God? I guess there must be... anyway, whoever you are, save , I beg you!
And right as I finish that ridiculous prayer—
PEW! PEW!
Two beams of black light rain down from the sky a split second before the Monster Slayer can take my head off with her glowing blade.
The first crashes down between us, forcing her to leap back with lightning speed. The second hits the wall behind , blasting it open and giving a way out.
A golden chance that I grab without a second thought — and I bolt, more explosions echoing behind as I sprint out of the alley.
I guess the Monster Slayer and whoever saved my ass are fighting now, but that’s not my problem. All that matters is that... sohow, I’m still alive.
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