Even if you dig where the ground is soft your hands will get dirty.
The next day, keeping my word, I visited the charlatans in their caravans, each one painted in vibrant hues with flowers and whimsical designs. They'd arrived unusually early this year—three whole months before Christmas.
The business seemed to be booming. A crowd of gullible humans had gathered at Széchenyi Square, mesmerized by the gypsies' exotic dances and acrobatic performances. At the stalls, you could find food prepared from recipes gathered across the globe, while others offered toys and jewelry.
But only the monsters knew the truth: this was all a distraction, a form of entertainment or a pastime for the gypsy caravan members. Anyone truly searching for valuable goods knew better—they went straight to the trailers.
The first caravan, decorated in flowers, housed a small team of witches eager to rent out their magic. I didn't linger long before slipping away. The second caravan housed a fortune teller, her deck of cards already in motion. Unfortunately, the old hag spotted me, but I made my escape just in time, hearing her hoarse shouts urging me to empty my wallet.
The third caravan, however, was the real prize. Its entrance was draped with a poison-green curtain instead of a door. Each of the caravans had space-expanding magic, but this one seemed the most spacious by far.
And there was a need for space: inside, large crates filled one corner, shelves lined with eyeballs of various colors trapped in glass jars, and scattered skulls—none of them from humans or animals. An old, tattered book lay carelessly on top of an aquarium, which housed a collection of colorful butterflies fluttering inside.
Dried plants hung in bouquets beside bones, and amulets and jewels sparkled in other corners. I was so absorbed in the cluttered chaos that I hadn't even noticed where the owner of all this was.
"Hello," a soft voice greeted me as I spun around.
A girl, perhaps a few years older than me, looked up at me with golden blonde hair and warm, caramel-brown eyes. I could smell the distinct mix of herbs on her, mingling with a faint vampire essence.
"I've been waiting for you," she said with a gentle smile. "How can I help you?"
I mumbled something, handing her the note. She immediately moved to the crates, rummaging through them while I continued to scan the room.
"You're here early this year," I remarked.
"Yes," she answered, never pausing in her search. "One of our members is pregnant and wants to give birth with her parents. We'll stay until Christmas, then move on."
"Hm."
She handed me the bag, and I paid her. Then she handed me another small box.
I raised an eyebrow, puzzled.
"Your boss specifically requested this," she said, her smile widening. "She also sent a message:" The gypsy girl's tone shifted to mimic Hajnal's voice. "Happy Birthday."
I managed a half-smile and, with a sigh, opened the box. Inside were a few small white berries.
"Mistletoe," she explained.
"I thought mistletoe was about eternal love. What does she want with this?" I asked.
"Yes, it's used in many love potions, but it's also traditional to hang it over doorways," she explained patiently. "With the right incantation, anyone with malicious intent can't pass under it. Most people don't know this, but with the proper spells, a few berries can also hide things. For example, if a wolf smells tobacco, he'll forget the scent the next moment because of the magic."
I chuckled. I was forced to quit smoking for a while because Alex threw my cigarettes out the moment he found them in the house. I could only smoke at work during my breaks, so I started to have withdrawal symptoms. Hajnal, of course, knew about Alex's crazy plan to protect my health, she also loudly objected to me constantly taking cig breaks.
"May I offer you some advice?" she asked. "Hide a few mistletoe berries in your cigarette holder—just keep them in a pouch so they don't touch the cigarettes directly."
"Sounds perfect," I said, pleased with the berries. "Are you a witch?"
I didn't sense the usual trace of magic on her; if anything, she felt more like a vampire.
She smiled softly. "Halfling. I'm half-blood."
"Oh," I said.
"If you need anything else, feel free to contact me," she said. "My name is Luna. If you can't find me, ask the other gypsies."
I nodded, stepping out of the caravan with the delicate floral designs, the scent of herbs still lingering in the air.
(...)
If you're looking to arrange a meeting with a monster, there are plenty of more fitting locations than Arcade. But safer? Very few. The fact that my latest employer chose this particular spot already said a lot. He clearly didn't trust that he'd leave this encounter unscathed. A crowded shopping center full of humans is the perfect place to hide.
I was just as cautious. Instead of heading straight to our meeting spot, I casually started examining a shop window. I pretended that a few pieces of clothing piqued my interest and walked into the endless sea of suits.
"How can I help you?" a saleswoman approached almost immediately.
Though I certainly didn't look like someone who could afford a high-end suit, she greeted me with a warm smile. Whether it was my striking looks or just her business savvy, I wasn't sure.
"I'm looking for something simple," I said, flashing a charming grin.
"Graduation?" she asked, eyeing me thoughtfully. "Maybe a wedding?"
I smirked. "Can you recommend something for any occasion?"
Her laughter was light. "Of course."
She led me through racks of clothes, talking animatedly about fabrics and cuts. I nodded politely and asked questions, pretending to be keen on finding the perfect suit. But my attention never wavered from the purpose of my visit. I was scanning the area, waiting.
I checked my watch—exactly seven o'clock. A few minutes passed, and aside from the human crowd, the place remained eerily empty. I assumed my employer, like me, wanted to get the lay of the land before meeting. I wasn't about to give him the upper hand. He'd sought me out, not the other way around. Even if he had chosen the busiest place in the city, I wasn't about to reveal my identity too easily.
A man settled down at a nearby table with a coffee. His scent was unmistakable, the familiar note of a vampire. He glanced at his watch, then sighed, though his frustration was carefully masked.
"Thank you," I said to the saleswoman, "You've been a great help. I'll come back to finalize things sometime."
With a wink, I left the store. I strolled to the nearby McDonald's counter and ordered a McFreeze, caramel flavor, before making my way to an empty table for two.
"Excuse me," I said, my voice low, and the man looked up at me. "Is this seat free?"
He studied me briefly, then checked his watch again, sighing before nodding toward the chair. "Yeah."
"Were you waiting for someone?" I asked as I settled in. "A date?"
A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "More of a business meeting."
"Business," I echoed, taking a spoonful of ice cream. "What a coincidence. I just arrived for a business meeting."
The vampire's eyes widened in recognition, then narrowed quickly as realization set in.
I chuckled. "Seven o'clock at McDonald's, right?"
"You're the..." he began, but his words trailed off, uncertainty creeping into his voice.
I shrugged. "It's me."
His initial surprise seemed to fade, and he looked ready to leave.
"You may go," I said, my tone turning colder as I let my presence settle over him. "But if you speak a word about this meeting, I'll find you."
The vampire froze, his disbelief apparent. After a long moment, he slowly met my gaze, sizing me up carefully.
"I apologize for my earlier disrespect," he muttered. "Your age threw me off."
I nodded, eating another spoonful of ice cream as he watched me in stunned silence.
"So," I said, breaking the tension. "What's the deal?"
"I want you to kill someone," he replied, his voice low and steady.
I wasn't surprised.
"Who?" I asked, enjoying my caramel ice cream with deliberate slowness.
"Me," he said flatly.
My eyebrows lifted in shock.
"What?"
He barely moved, but with a subtle gesture, he produced a vial of medicine from beside the table—the same medicine I took.
"I was bitten a month ago," he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I thought the medicine would help. I wanted to keep it a secret."
He paused, taking a shaky breath before continuing in an almost inaudible whisper. "Why do I have to kill others to survive?"
His eyes glistened with unshed tears. "Wouldn't it be easier if I just died?"
It was then I understood why he'd insisted on meeting in such a crowded place. It wasn't fear for his own life, but for the lives of others—or possibly mine. The presence of so many humans was keeping him restrained. But even in the midst of them, his eyes flashed red, a telltale sign of his hunger. His fists clenched as he fought the urge to change.
"The desire... It's unbearable," he admitted, his voice strained. "Being a vampire—"
"It's like a curse," I finished as his eyes widened again.
He nodded slowly.
I finished my ice cream and gave a sympathetic nod. "Whether you become a killer or not, that's up to you. It's not just vampires who have darkness inside them. Everyone has their demons."
"You don't have to kill to survive," I continued. "There are alternative solutions—blood banks, hospitals."
"I know," he nodded. "I've been doing that for the past month."
I raised an eyebrow. If he had access to blood banks, what was the real issue?
He sighed, his voice heavy with regret. "Can you imagine what it's like when the woman you love is cooking dinner for you, and she cuts her finger by accident? The smell of her blood… It drove me insane. By the time I realized what I was doing, I had drained her completely."
"Okay," I said, with a slight nod. "I'll do it, but it won't come cheap."
The man quickly slid a yellow envelope across the table. I could hear the rustle of bills inside before I even opened it. I grabbed the envelope, quickly glancing at the stack of cash.
"This should be enough," I said. "I promise, you won't feel a thing. Do you have somewhere in mind to spend your last moments?"
"No," he whispered, his voice barely audible.
I stood, pocketing the money he offered. "Let's go."
"Where?" he asked, standing up quickly.
"I know a place," I replied, turning toward the exit.
The man didn't ask a word as I led him through the woods. The forest path narrowed into a staircase, overtaken by thick moss. The bushes crowded the sides like a forgotten gazebo, though the air hinted that no one had taken a stroll here for years. We had to duck under a low-hanging branch to pass through a gap in the foliage. After a few more steps, we emerged into a small clearing with a towering monument in the center. The concrete was smothered in graffiti, a patchwork of scribbles, though most of it looked as though it had been there for decades.
I scaled the monument, settling at the top, and patted the spot beside me. The vampire climbed up without a word and sat down next to me.
"What's this place?" he asked, his voice soft, almost reverent.
"Who knows?" I said with a shrug. "It's been here forever. But these days, no one comes."
"How did you find it?"
"I grew up around here," I replied, my eyes lingering on the old structure.
Somehow, I couldn't go too far, just as I couldn't stay too close.
As a child, I spent countless afternoons at this monument with Alistair. It was our secret place — one that the world seemed to have forgotten long ago.
Sometimes, we sat in silence, content in each other's presence, a silent understanding between us. Other times, we spoke for hours, delving into history, battles fought, and battles lost. Alistair taught me about the Fae, their ways, their language, and their rise and fall. Sometimes I rebelled and questioned why I needed this. That's when I earned a sharp look from him, and then all he said was that knowledge was power—a lesson I didn't fully grasp back then. But looking back, I understand. No one knew better than an informant what the weight of information could mean.
Even though I wasn't a tad bit interested in these things, learned everything because deep down I wanted to make him proud of me. And when he smiled, something warm and unfamiliar curled up inside me. It was a strange feeling, but I couldn't deny it, even to myself.
But now, this place was nothing more than a monument to memories. The view was still nice, a simple comfort. I gazed at the ink-black sky, the stars flickering above us. The vampire did the same. For a few moments, we shared this simple, quiet miracle, and the silence was a kind of peace.
Eventually, I turned to look at him. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, basking in the breeze, before his gaze returned to the stars.
"Are you ready?" I asked.
"Yes," he replied, nodding firmly, and jumped down from the monument. I followed suit, stepping lightly onto the ground below.
I drew my dagger, its cold steel gleaming in the dark. I gripped the handle tightly, feeling its weight in my hand.
He gave me a soft smile. "Thank you."
With a swift motion, I separated his head from his neck. His body crumpled, lifeless, and I sighed deeply, kneeling before the severed head. His fangs, still half-exposed, glinted in the dim light. I methodically pulled them out, one by one, packing them into a piece of cloth.
"You won't need these anymore, will you?" I asked, and then struck a match. The flame flickered before it dropped into the puddle of blood below. The fire hissed and died, and I found myself pondering the fangs. The older they were, the more valuable they became, steeped in venom over the years. Newer ones were easier to work with. Hmm, I'll see.
Later, I dropped off the items to Hajnal. She appeared to have survived the date. (Unfortunately.) In fact, it looked like it had gone rather well. (Unfortunately.) In any case, she wasn't so irritable and didn't hate the world as much as she usually did. (Which was the only positive thing about getting to know the vampire in question, so I decided the bloodsucker could live. For a while. For a short while.)