Nothing is a scam until they catch you red-handed.
Monsters were murmuring about the mysterious gypsy caravan.
"I'm heading to visit the gypsies," a shapeshifter said to his companion. "You coming?"
Immediately, a few monsters at nearby tables perked up. The other guy looked slightly confused, probably new to the foxes.
"What gypsies?" he finally asked after a pause.
"The gypsy caravan rolls through Pécs every so often," the shifter replied, his tone casual. "They usually show up before Christmas or Easter. They're a bunch of travelers with trailers, putting on shows for humans—jugglers, acrobats, all that stuff. But that's not why monsters wait for 'em. They come for the high-quality foreign goods they sell."
I placed the glass in front of the vampire, pulling his attention away from the shapeshifters.
"No bloodsucking in my pub," I said, voice low and threatening. "Got it?"
The vampire nodded slowly, staring down at the table while he took a quick sip of his drink. I turned my back to him, not noticing the arrival of the real beast—my boss. Hajnal sneaked up behind me and grabbed my ear, yanking me down to her eye level.
"Listen here, kid," she growled, "If you scare off my customers, I'll kill you."
"Understood," I said quickly. "Can you let go of my ear now?"
She muttered some choice curses, still irritated, before releasing me. I straightened up, giving her a glare, then moved past her, stomping down the stairs. Behind the counter, I grabbed a glass to wipe, wishing I could hurl it across the room. Old hag.
Hajnal plopped down opposite the vampire, digging through the tight pockets of her jeans. After a moment, she pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and let the smoke curl from her lips. The lighter hit the table with a satisfying clink.
She took a deep drag and exhaled slowly, letting the smoke linger before noticing the vampire staring at her, a little confused.
"Do you mind?" she asked, raising an eyebrow and gesturing to the cigarette.
The vampire quickly shook his head, showing her his own box of cigarettes.
Hajnal barely glanced at him before turning back to the glass.
"It's on the house," she said between drags. "Sorry about the inconvenience."
The vampire hesitated, clearly unsure. "You don't have to—"
"Take it," Hajnal shot him a look that left no room for argument. "You'll enjoy it."
"Well... if you insist," he replied with a nod.
She gave a curt acknowledgment and took another drag, unfazed. The vampire sipped his drink, sizing her up. Hajnal didn't seem the least bit unsettled by the presence of a creature like him. Most people would react with suspicion or fear, but she smoked her cigarette in quiet defiance, as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening.
"I hope my employee's rudeness didn't scare you off from coming back," Hajnal said suddenly, catching the vampire off guard. He hadn't expected her to speak to him again.
He shook his head, a calm smile on his face. "No, ma'am. It's cozy here. I like it."
"I'm glad you do," Hajnal said, her tone flat, void of enthusiasm.
Hajnal wasn't particularly fond of the pub, despite inheriting it from her father. It reminded her too much of him, perhaps—of things she'd rather forget.
"It's the only place in the city where you can find... rare drinks at such a low price," the vampire continued, his confidence growing. "In fact, I recently arrived here from
Hajnal didn't seem to care much about his backstory. She just nodded, uninterested.
"Ma'am," the vampire said again, now more hesitant, "May I ask you a few questions?"
"If you're after something useful, ask my employee," Hajnal shrugged. "If you can pay for it, that is."
"I've heard hunters often come to this pub," the vampire whispered. "Is that true?"
"It's true," Hajnal replied, her tone cold.
The vampire visibly paled, his unease growing.
"Relax, old man," came a voice from the next table. It was Weasel, the shapeshifter. "Our charming friend, Shay, has them wrapped around his finger."
He giggled obnoxiously, throwing an arm around the mage next to him, and the two burst into laughter.
"Yeah," the mage joined in, still chuckling. "Hunters don't mess with anyone here."
"I wonder how our charming friend achieved this," the other mused.
"That's enough, Weasel!" I shouted from the bar, slamming a mug of beer onto the table. "Want me to go upstairs?"
The two troublemakers just giggled more quietly, turning their conversation to more typical teenage topics. The vampire, however, seemed to relax a bit. Meanwhile, Hajnal lit a second cigarette, her demeanor still unchanged.
"Could he be a member of the Behemoth?" the vampire asked cautiously.
A moment of silence stretched, before laughter erupted from the group upstairs. Even the most serious regulars cracked a smile at the thought.
Hajnal's laughter was loud, unrestrained, and it filled the pub for a long moment. She pounded her fists on her thighs as she tried to regain control, but when she finally stopped, her face was deadly serious. Her eyes flashed with a dangerous glint as she picked up her fallen cigarette.
"This pub isn't under Behemoth's control," she said flatly, her tone final.
She crushed the cigarette into the ashtray with a decisive twist, and the vampire stiffened under the pressure of her gaze. Hajnal stood up abruptly and stalked back to her office, leaving the vampire confused and slightly unnerved.
"Oh, old man, you really messed up," Weasel said, his voice full of pity.
"Indeed," the young mage agreed. "What a pity. What a pity."
"What did I say wrong?" the vampire asked, utterly bewildered.
Weasel shrugged. "Behemoth's not what you think it is."
"Not at all!" the young mage chimed in.
"They're nasty. They demand most of the income as protection money," Weasel continued, shaking his head. "And anyone who doesn't pay... well..."
The mage made a slicing motion across his throat.
"Oh," the vampire muttered, realization dawning on him.
"Oh," Weasel grinned. "Everyone knows how much trouble the boss had with them in the past."
"And how did she finally manage to wear them off?" the vampire asked.
Weasel shrugged. "Stubborn woman, maybe it would have been too much trouble for them to change her mind."
"And of course, she has a hell of a good bartender," the mage apprentice added with a chuckle.
"Come on,
The young mage gave in with a sigh, and the two of them left. The vampire returned to his drink, sipping it quietly for the rest of the night.
Before closing, I stacked the chairs on the tables and checked the cash register, then double-checked the liquor inventory.
"I'm done," I said, stepping into Hajnal's office.
The room was like that of a school principal's, except for the sofa and armchairs, which softened the otherwise formal atmosphere of the huge oak desk, piled with documents. Hajnal looked up, her eyes flashing with brief satisfaction before the sternness returned, as if it had never left.
"There's something I need you to do," she said, her tone commanding. "Can you visit the gypsies tomorrow?"
I raised an eyebrow. "Why don't you go yourself?"
There was an ominous smile on her lips, which never meant anything good. Hajnal smiled mostly like this when she was considering how to make me suffer.
"You can't even do me this tiny favor?" she said, feigning frustration. "I'll be really busy tomorrow."
I snorted. What could possibly make a virago like you busy?
"I have a date," she said, locking eyes with me, her expression suddenly fierce.
Oops. Did I say that out loud? I knew if there was anything hard and deadly nearby, Hajnal would surely have thrown it in my face.
"Not with today's vampire, right?" I asked cautiously.
She remained stubbornly silent.
"Damn, he's a vampire," I said, trying to draw her attention to the not at all insignificant information. "A vampire! You know, the demons of the night who suck the blood of unsuspecting humans! They are sucking dry the humans like you! It didn't even cross your mind that such a relationship could have fatal consequences for you? And anyway, he is much younger than you!"
I tossed the last remark out casually, yet it seemed that only that last sentence of my intriguing monologue caught the attention of my glamorous boss.
"He's going to be sixty this year!" she retorted defensively.
"Even better," I said, "he's twice your age!"
"Oh, shut up, it's just a date!" she snapped, rolling her eyes.
"If they find you on the side of the road the next day, don't blame me," I shrugged, half-serious.
"Enough, let's get back to the original topic," she cut in, her voice firm.
"As you wish," I replied, resigned. I couldn't make her see reason, and honestly, I didn't care anymore. If that vampire drained her dry, I wouldn't even lift a finger to save her.
She cleared her throat, rifling through papers before pulling out a sheet and handing it to me.
"The list of things I need," she said.
I stuffed it into my pocket, wondering if I was ever going to escape her clutches. "Anything else, ma'am?"
"Nothing else," she replied curtly.
"Then bye. I hope you'll live," I added, making my exit before she could curse me into oblivion.
As I walked past the counter, I noticed a yellow envelope resting on it. The words "To the White Demon" were scrawled across the front. I debated throwing it out without a second thought but was overcome by curiosity, so I opened it instead.
[I'll be waiting for you tomorrow at seven o'clock at McDonald's on the second floor of Arcade.]
The message was short and to the point. The handwriting was neat, though shaky, as if written by a nervous hand. I held it up to my nose—yep, definitely a vampire. A desperate one at that.
(...)
At home, Alex was waiting for me, grinning from ear to ear with a chocolate cake in front of him.
"Come on, man," I said, smiling despite myself.
He launched into Happy Birthday, completely out of tune, but that was part of the charm. Beside the cake, there was also Alex's infamous pálinka—the one I could never figure out where he got it from.
"And what's it like to be eighteen?" he asked, grinning as he clinked our glasses together.
"A bit peach-honey flavored," I replied, laughing.
Alex drank so much that eventually he passed out in the chair, snoring softly. I had to drag him into our room. This was how it always went when he got his hands on pálinka—he couldn't handle the strong stuff, but he never let that stop him from drinking it.
By the time I returned, Alistair was waiting for me in the kitchen.
"Hey," I greeted, my voice lacking the usual cheer.
"Happy birthday," he said, offering a soft smile.
It was the first time Alistair had visited me on my birthday. I sat down opposite him, watching the fae silently for a while.
"What's going on, Al?" I asked after a beat.
"I don't have good news," he said, his tone serious.
"Wonderful," I muttered, earning a small smile from him.
"I'm sorry to have to say this today," he continued, his expression apologetic.
I waved him off. "You know I hate my birthday anyway."
"The thief is still on the loose, and more vampires are gathering around the Fifth," he said, his voice heavy.
"War wouldn't benefit anyone," I sighed. "Even the fae understand that much."
"The Fifth is different," he said, his voice quieter now.
I raised an eyebrow. "Why?"
"He wants to cause as much chaos as possible," Alistair explained, exhaling deeply. "His real goal is to dethrone humanity."
"He doesn't take short steps, I must admit," I sighed as well. "There are more and more murders. Slowly, everyone realizes that war is inevitable, and all hell breaks loose."
"I'm afraid you're right," Alistair said, his gaze distant, as if already seeing the consequences of what was to come.