It's not about winning; it's about drawing blood.
Slowly, my presence in the Rosenstein library became routine. I often dragged Rolo along with me, partly to keep the annoying kid occupied.
"What are we even looking for?" Rolo grumbled, eyeing the stack of books I dumped on the table along with a German dictionary.
"I'm not entirely sure yet," I admitted, scanning the titles. "Maybe something on creatures other than vampires that feed on blood."
Rolo frowned and unwillingly cracked open one of the volumes. He didn't protest much, sensing the gravity of our research. For the next week, we sat side by side in silence, the only sound the occasional rustle of pages. Progress was painfully slow, and I began to doubt if we would find anything at all. The fridge at home was alarmingly empty, a stark reminder that we needed results soon. I decided it was time to get back to work.
After another fruitless day at the library, I dialed Hajnal's number as soon as I got home.
"What do you want?" she said with her trademark raspy voice.
No hello, no I missed you or something. I didn't catch her in the best of moods, that's for sure.
"Work," I replied tersely, and she laughed sharply.
"No," she said coldly.
"But why not?" I pressed, frustration creeping into my tone.
"You're unreliable, lazy, and you've even got a sharp tongue," she began, her voice laden with reproach. "Always talking back, playing the drama queen every time I give you something to do, and endlessly complaining about the pay. Want me to continue? Cheeky brat, I'm not hiring you again!"
"Just so you know, I'm actually the perfect employee," I retorted calmly. "And I know you'll take me back anyway."
She chuckled a hint of lightness in her tone. I was probably the only one in the world who could handle this harpy even on her bad days, which were frequent, and on her worst days—about once a month, lasting a week.
"What makes you so sure of that?" she feigned curiosity, a smile evident in her voice.
"Because you can't resist my flawless charm," I replied with a smug grin. She snorted, almost mockingly.
"Come on, love," she mocked, taking a drag of her cigarette, "you're not my type at all."
"But I'm exactly the type of your customers," I countered with a grin.
She sighed, pondered for a moment, then spoke again. "Where the hell have you been, kid?"
"Saving the world from total annihilation," I shrugged nonchalantly. Though she couldn't see it, she sensed it from the playful tone in my voice. "And who's going to protect you from the gangsters if not me?"
She muttered something about my arrogance, mostly to herself, before abruptly hanging up the phone without a goodbye typical of her. Despite her silence on the matter, I knew I had secured my place behind the counter long ago.
Hajnal wasn't one to easily give in, but I enjoyed working for her. The pub felt like a second home. I cherished the lively atmosphere, the jovial humor of the village regulars, and even the occasional parties hosted. From our conversation and her tone, I gathered that I could start that very day.
(...)
Hajnal sometimes resembled a fury more than a human. When she shouted, her voice reached such unbearable heights that only a fury could achieve. Of course, I'd never tell her that—she'd probably take my head off. Instead, she condemned me to lugging booze crates to the warehouse.
Soon, I had an unexpected visitor. Hajnal glanced at me, nodding towards her office. I took the hint, handed her two empty pints, and headed to the tiny room where Kolos Hudetz was already waiting.
Kolos was one of the few humans privy to the existence of monsters, only because they needed his cooperation to keep things under wraps. The mayor, Kolos, and a select few were tolerated by the monsters to avoid exposure.
I plopped down in Hajnal's cushioned chair, donning my "certain-amount-of-money-can-buy-my-services" businessman smile. The man was unimpressed. But it was okay.
"How can I help you?", I said.
He looked like he wanted to leave me there, but he wasn't in a position to do that.
"I need information on the mysterious series of murders," he said flatly.
"Hm, that's a tough one," I nodded. "It's going to be expensive."
He sighed, barely audible.
"Actually," he said quietly, "I think this case has escalated beyond our control."
"Oh?" I smirked. "Then why come to me instead of the hunters?"
"I've contacted them too," he pointed out. "But as far as I know, they get most of their information from you. I want this bloodbath to end as soon as possible."
"So, you want me to find those responsible?" I asked.
"No," he said, his eyes boring into mine. "I want to make them pay. All those who had something to do with it."
"Is that so?" I asked with a sly smile. "Is it personal?"
He nodded slowly.
I gave him a scathing look. "Are you sure you can pay me for my services, Mr. Hudetz?"
"Money is no problem," he said.
"All right," I nodded, standing up as he did the same. I stepped forward and held out my hand. When he shook it, I added, "I'll send a message."
He didn't ask how I would get his contact information. He merely nodded, looking too tired to care. Very personal, indeed.
With that, I left the office. I spent the rest of my working hours questioning guests, but no one had anything worthwhile to say. Hajnal graciously let me go half an hour earlier than usual. I just rolled my eyes; it wasn't kindness but the lack of guests that prompted her to do so.
As I approached the door, I noticed a rat waiting with a paper tucked into its collar. I took the note and read:
[I know no more about the murders than you do. My rats that have been at the scene are like lunatics. If they saw anything, I can't get it out of them.]
Well, at least Ruben saved me a trip. But this was interesting—what could have happened to his rats?
Even if Rolo and I hadn't found any substantial information about other bloodsuckers, I couldn't shake what Blutkaiser had said about vampires not being the perpetrators. It reminded me that I had one last lead to check before I could be certain. I had some time left before anyone would notice my absence.
I grimaced. For some reason, ignoble vampires have a supernatural attraction to ruins and abandoned places.
The watchmen spotted me from a distance and started hissing nervously. Some of them disappeared, probably to report my presence to the gang leader. They must have been ordered to behave normally because when I approached, they didn't immediately want to rip my head off. They leaped from the ruins, landing with low thuds on the ground, keeping a respectable distance while they circled me. They ventured closer, only to change their minds and step back, hissing like nervous cats.
I couldn't help but feel a surge of contempt for these creatures. They were like bugs—tiny, annoying, and all too easy to squash. The beast inside me itched to smash them one by one, relishing the thought of their fragile forms breaking.
"Leave him alone," I heard a harsh voice command.
The vampire boss walked slowly towards me. He eyed me for a long moment, then grinned and leaned closer. It didn't escape my notice that he sniffed my neck and sighed pleased.
"If you try, I'll break your fangs," I whispered in his ear.
He grunted, the smug grin faltering for just a second before he stepped back, still showing his snow-white human teeth.
Nándi was a brown-haired, broad-shouldered man, always with a cheerful personality and a smile that would fit perfectly in toothpaste commercials. His presence was unnerving, not because of his strength, but because of his arrogance.
"Did you appreciate my letter?" he asked.
I could feel the beast within me recoiling in disgust at the sight of Nándi's overconfidence. He was just another insect, blissfully unaware of how close he was to being crushed.
Nándi had been at the ball, and although from a respectful distance, he followed me all night—at least that's what he said in his letter.
One might wonder what an ignoble like him was doing at a noblemen's ball. Nándi was the leader of the most populous second-generation vampire clan in the city; he simply could not be ignored. Of course, they didn't treat him as one of their own, far from it, but they did give him some face.
Even I was surprised at how many bloodsuckers were gathered here. The vampires didn't hang out here twenty-four seven; almost all of them had houses and night jobs, spending mostly daytime at their hideout, holding their meetings and discussing clan business. That was why I visited at night, but still, many vampires were present. Too many for my taste.
Although Nándi didn't seem like a senseless vampire from the letter, bloodlust could turn even the most composed of them into a raging monster. For Nándi, my blood was an irresistible delicacy. I was aware of this, just as I was aware that if I entered their territory, I might not have a chance to leave without a fight. In any case, I also knew that if anyone could, he would know if an ignoble was responsible for the murders.
"I have a few questions," I concluded, my voice steady despite the tension crackling in the air.
Nándi's eyes sparkled with a mix of amusement and curiosity. He took a step closer, his grin widening. "Of course, you are here for information. They say you're a cold businessman, all calculation and no heart." He tilted his head, studying me. "And from what I've seen so far… they might just be right."
The other vampires hissed and circled me, their movements twitchy and calculated. They reminded me of nervous cats, ready to pounce yet cautious. My inner beast roared, tempted to swat them away like the bugs they were.
"Let's not waste time, Nándi. I need answers," I said, keeping my voice firm.
Nándi chuckled, the sound low and rumbling. "Straight to the point. I like that. What do you want to know?"
I met his gaze. "Who's behind the murders?"
His expression darkened, the playful glint in his eyes fading. "Why do you think I would know?"
"Because if anyone knows anything about ignobles in this city, it's you. And because you know that these killings bring unwanted attention to all of you."
He leaned in, his breath cold against my skin. "I could smell your fear if you had any. But you're either very brave or very foolish to come here alone."
I smirked, feeling the beast within me clawing to break free. "Maybe I'm a bit of both. Now, answer the question."
Nándi's grin returned, more sinister this time. I nodded, understanding the unspoken agreement. This wasn't just about words; it was a game of power, and I had just stepped onto his board.
"All right, all right," Nándi said, already ushering me inside, "First, let's make ourselves comfortable."
He led the way to one half-ruined house, where a few sofas and armchairs were arranged. I tried not to notice the faint stains on the fabric. On one of the couches, a half-naked couple was making out, but Nándi barked a short order that sent them scurrying. He gestured towards two armchairs opposite each other and plopped down in one of them. I took a seat in the other.
The room, usually teeming with vampires, was now empty. It was just the two of us. That might have given me some sense of calm, but it didn't. I knew Nándi's vampires were lurking nearby, ready to strike at a moment's notice.
Nándi leaned back, crossing his legs with an air of casual dominance. I could feel the beast inside me itching to break free, the urge to swat away the threat in front of me growing stronger. But I kept my composure.
Nándi's smile didn't falter, but his eyes grew cold. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Information comes at a price. You know that as an informant."
"Name your price," I replied.
Nándi's grin widened. "First, tell me why you care so much about these murders. What's in it for you?"
"Keeping the peace," I replied, meeting his gaze. "And ensuring that the hunters don't come down on all of us."
He seemed to consider this, his fingers drumming lightly on the armrest. "Fair enough."
I leaned back, maintaining eye contact. "Now, what do you know?"
Nándi's eyes flickered with a hint of amusement. "There are whispers, of course. But nothing concrete. The killings are too precise, too... deliberate."
"Whispers about what?" I pressed.
He sighed, a long, theatrical sound. "Some say it's a rogue vampire. Others think it's something else entirely."
I frowned. "Like what?"
Nándi's lips pulled into a wide grin, making it clear that he had the upper hand. "How much is this information worth to you?" he asked.
"A few drops of blood," I replied.
His eyes lit up. "It is not ignobles who are responsible for this," he declared. "It's mages."
"Mages?" I was genuinely surprised.
"Yes," he nodded, "For some reason, they're orchestrating things in such a way that the clues point to vampires. I'm already planning to destroy them."
"Hm, I see," I nodded. "Any more valuable information?"
He feigned thinking. "One of the greatest dark mages is pulling the strings. There are only seven of them, so it must be one of them."
He then stood up and took out a vial. Sighing deeply, I stood up as well and took the vial from him. I cut my finger with one of my claws and squeezed five drops of blood into the vial.
Nándi looked disappointed. "Is that all?"
"What did you expect?" I raised an eyebrow. "Not very valuable information. If you know better, then find me."
I handed him the vial and left, aware that he hadn't told me half of what he knew. Just as I knew that as he tasted my blood, he would want more and more—which would also come at a price.
As I walked out of the room, I could feel Nándi's eyes on my back, the weight of his gaze like a predator sizing up its prey. The beast inside me roared in defiance, but I pushed it down. There would be time for that later.
When I got home, I marched into the kitchen, where Rolo was reading a book. When he saw me, he put down his pen with more force than intended, causing the metal to clang sharply in the silence of the house.
"What are you doing?" Rolo asked.
"I'm making cocoa," I replied.
"That's not what I'm talking about!" he snapped. "What are you up to now?"
I glanced up at him and he calmly measured me, even though his hand was shaking a bit with nervousness.
I grinned. "Don't worry, I was just visiting some ignobles."
"Alone?" he questioned me.
"Yes," I shrugged, and my answer really managed to rile him up.
Still, he didn't try to lecture me, knowing full well that his presence wouldn't have improved my chances.
"What business do you have with the serial killer?" he asked. "Why are you investigating him so vigorously?"
"I've got a job," I replied, pouring two cups of cocoa. I held one out to him. He accepted it half-heartedly, but I could see from his face that I hadn't managed to make it up to him. I chuckled.
"Come on," I smiled. "Don't worry so much."
"I can't help it," he muttered, then took another sip of the hot cocoa. "You're always in trouble."
I smiled wider. Look, who's talking.
"What's so funny?" he continued.
I didn't answer, just grinned.
"You're insane," he growled, taking another taste of the cocoa before cursing me to the next world.