A bloody night leaves behind a darker dawn, but the sun still rises.
The bullet tore through the air, unstoppable, but instead of lodging itself in Hajnal's heart, it found its mark in my chest. A grimace twisted my lips as I looked down at the gaping wound.
"This was my favorite shirt," I muttered dryly, inspecting the hole in my body.
The man's eyes widened in shock, then narrowed with recognition.
"The watchdog," he sneered.
I didn't flinch as I took a step toward the cloaked figure, and in response, he fired two more shots. I didn't bother dodging—I couldn't risk the bullets hitting Hajnal. A sharp, searing pain blossomed in my stomach, but in a heartbeat, the wound began to heal.
The man's confidence faltered, his face twisting in a mix of disbelief and fear. With each step he took backward, the horror in his eyes deepened.
In an instant, I was standing in front of him. I shoved him to the ground with a force that cracked the pavement beneath us. Kneeling over him, I pinned him down as he pressed the barrel of his gun to my belly and fired again.
I grinned, an expression cold enough to freeze the air between us. It was the last grin he would ever see. Before he could react, I sank my teeth into his neck, tearing into the soft flesh. His scream echoed briefly, but it quickly morphed into a desperate grunt as his body grew still.
When it was over, I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, standing up and grabbing his collar with one hand. Without a second thought, I dragged his limp body behind me.
Hajnal leaned against the wall, barely noticeable tremors running through her. Her eyes were closed, and for a moment, I was reminded just how fragile she truly was. Despite the tough exterior she worked so hard to maintain, Hajnal was still human. It wasn't a surprising reaction, just... human. A normal person would be shaken, frightened even, after witnessing something as brutal as an execution right in front of their eyes.
"Are you all right?" I asked, my voice softer than I intended.
She opened her eyes and met my gaze, alarm flashing in them. I sighed deeply, smoothing a stray lock of hair from her face, then gently pressed my forehead to hers.
"It's all right."
When that didn't seem to soothe her, I released the corpse and pulled her close with one arm. She clung to my clothes, her body tense but silent. Hajnal would never cry in front of me, no matter the situation. Once she had regained control, she stepped back.
"Come on," I said, "I'll make you a coffee."
I left the body by the wall, focusing instead on getting my boss back to her usual self.
She sat on one of the bar stools, waiting in quiet resignation as I prepared the coffee. When it was ready, she blew on it a few times, taking careful sips.
"Thanks," she said at last.
I wasn't sure if she was thanking me for the coffee or for saving her life. Maybe it was both.
I nodded in acknowledgment, then retrieved the small bronze box from its hidden spot under the counter. I opened it and sifted through the various odds and ends—tips, thick envelopes, and my cocoa bag—until I found what I was looking for. I pulled out the medical scalpel, stepped over to a chair, and sat down.
I hated guns with passion.
Reluctantly, I lifted my shirt to expose the wounds, which had healed over by then. I had to reopen the injuries to extract the bullets, a process far more excruciating than the initial pain of being shot. I needed to work quickly before the wounds closed on their own.
As I worked, Hajnal regained her composure and handed me a damp towel. She stared at the bloodied bullets resting on the polished table, her expression heavy with something I couldn't place.
"You take on too much for me," she said quietly.
I furrowed my brow. Her discomfort was palpable, and there was a trace of remorse in her features as she clenched her trembling hands into fists. I smiled softly, taking her hand in mine. My thumb gently caressed the back of her hand until her fingers unfurled and relaxed. I brought her hand to my lips and pressed a soft kiss to her knuckles, then gazed into her eyes, whispering softly against her skin.
"I'm your watchdog. I'll protect you, no matter what happens."
She looked at me, surprised—maybe even confused—but after a few moments, she composed herself.
"I thought you hated being called that," she remarked.
I pulled away from her, shrugging.
"I do," I admitted, "but it's the truth."
I stood up, giving her hand one final squeeze before I let it go.
"Next time someone points a gun at you," I smiled, "scream."
Though my tone was light, there was an undercurrent of worry in my touch. Hajnal rolled her eyes.
I began searching for a sturdy black bag, carefully packing the body for transport. Once I had it sealed, I grabbed the mop and, humming softly to myself, set about cleaning the bloodstains. My mind wandered, briefly calculating how much I could get for the guy, when the sudden vibration from my phone snapped me back to attention. I frowned as I glanced at the screen.
Alice in Monsterland: [2 a.m., Human Affairs Courthouse, lots of vampires!]
I checked the time—it was 1:30. I wasted no time and dialed Geri's number.
"The vampires attack in half an hour," I said, my voice sharp. "The target is the courthouse. Try to reach other hunters. There won't be enough of you."
"Understood." Geri's voice was brief, then the line went dead.
I pushed the thought of selling the corpse to the back of my mind. Instead, I quickly hid the bag among the chilled drinks in the pub. The mission came first. I discarded what was left of my top and slipped into an armored shirt.
At that moment, Hajnal emerged from her office. Her eyes narrowed as she took in my preparations, but I didn't pause. Grabbing my mask, I moved toward the door.
"Take care," she said, her tone tinged with something unspoken. I knew she wanted to say more—something sharp, but this would have to do.
I gave her a nod and stepped out into the cool night, the weight of the upcoming battle pressing down on me.
(...)
There were too many of them. Geri hadn't been able to rally enough hunters in time.
"Simon," I hissed, my voice barely audible. The moment the word left my lips, I felt his presence—otherworldly, unsettling, and just a breath away.
"I need your help," I said, and the spirit nodded immediately, as if he'd been waiting for just this.
"Stay inconspicuous," I added, the command slipping from me almost instinctively.
Simon's form dissolved into smoke, but for one lingering moment, I still felt the weight of his presence at my side.
I hadn't planned to get involved. I hadn't intended to lift a finger in this battle. But fate had other plans.
One of the vampires tore open Geri's stomach, and he crumpled to his knees before three bloodsuckers. His focus was lost—distracted, I thought, by the blade now pressed against his neck. A hunter's sword. The blade rose, poised to strike.
But it didn't.
In the blink of an eye, the vampire's head separated from its body. Blood sprayed over Geri as the vampire's corpse collapsed.
The remaining two vampires, stunned at first, quickly shifted into savage fury.
I didn't waste a second. Grabbing the fallen sword, I swung it with lethal precision. One vampire's head hit the ground before his body even had time to react. The other lunged at me with claws outstretched. I dodged, and in the same fluid motion, drove the blade through his belly, pinning him to the ground.
I turned to look at Geri. His mask had vanished in the chaos, and his eyes—wide with disbelief—met mine.
"Shay," he gasped, his voice weak, his gaze unable to process what had just happened.
Without hesitation, I was by his side, my hand gripping the blood-soaked fabric of his shirt. The pearl in my palm pressed hard as I crushed it. A sharp, uncomfortable pull of magic coursed through me, sinking deep into my essence. The fabric of space and time twisted in response, and before I could prepare myself, I was mercilessly thrust to the ground somewhere else.
The pub was empty. Or so I thought, until the sharp sound of a cup shattering against the floor broke the silence.
Hajnal stood frozen, her eyes locked on the mess.
"Get some water and a towel," I commanded, my tone unwavering.
Without hesitation, she disappeared into the bathroom, her steps quick and purposeful. Geri, still dazed from the blood loss, reached up, brushing a hand over his mask as though to reassure himself that he wasn't hallucinating.
"I never thought I'd see it again," he muttered quietly, almost to himself.
I turned my gaze back to him, a flicker of recognition flashing in his eyes. I removed the mask slowly, letting him meet my gaze fully.
Geri opened his mouth to speak again, but I silenced him with a firm gesture. "First, I'll tend to your wounds."
I carefully cut away the remnants of his uniform, revealing his chest—a canvas of scars, both large and small. The deep gash running from his ribs to his pelvic bone stood out, fresh and gaping.
A sigh escaped me. This wasn't going to be pleasant.
Hajnal returned with a bucket of water and a few clothes. Without a word, I shoved one of the clothes into Geri's mouth, knowing it would help stifle his inevitable screams, and threw the other into the bucket.
"First aid kit," I ordered, "Needle and thread."
She nodded and hurried off again.
I'd often fantasized about torturing Geri, but this wasn't quite what I'd envisioned. Despite myself, I moved with care, cleaning the wound gently. Geri grunted in pain, his body twitching involuntarily as I worked.
By the time Hajnal returned, the water had taken on a crimson hue, and Geri's color had drained to an alarming shade. I disinfected the area around the wound, then sterilized the needle with my lighter, taking no time to hesitate as I plunged the needle into his skin.
I nodded to Hajnal. "Hold him down."
She hesitated, but eventually complied, though she looked paler than Geri. Her gaze remained fixed on the floor, avoiding the gruesome scene in front of her.
Geri's attempts to scream were muffled by the cloth in his mouth, but his body convulsed with each stitch. It was clear he was fighting the urge to bite his tongue in agony.
When I was done, I wiped away the blood, then carefully lifted him, laying him on the pool table.
"Shay!" Geri suddenly gasped, his hand gripping my shirt with surprising strength. "The others... the squad."
That was the moment I knew his mind was beginning to clear, that he wasn't fully lost to the pain anymore.
"They're fine," I reassured him, brushing a hand over his. "They'll be fine."
Relief flickered in his eyes. He nodded faintly.
"Thank you," he whispered, voice hoarse.
"Don't get used to it," I replied, pressing my lips together in a thin line. "I only saved you because I need you. For now."
Geri let out a rueful laugh, though it quickly turned into a grimace of pain. I pushed a few pills into his mouth, and he swallowed without protest.
"Sleep, asshole," I ordered, giving him no chance to argue.
Hajnal watched quietly, her eyes following my every movement as I grabbed the mop and started to clean the blood from the floor.
"What happened?" she demanded, her voice sharp.
"There weren't enough of them to hold off the vampires," I explained, my tone matter-of-fact.
Hajnal's gaze flickered to Geri, a flicker of worry crossing her features.
"Did they lose?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"No," I shrugged, "They'll win."
She turned back to me, eyes wide with disbelief.
I gave her a half-smile. "Didn't I tell you I had everything arranged?"
Once I finished cleaning, I glanced at her, a silent offer to walk her home.
"You want to leave him here alone?" she asked, her concern evident.
I shrugged again. "His body's fortified by magic. His life isn't in danger. He'll have some fever, sure, but I gave him antipyretics and painkillers, so it's nothing to worry about."
"Shay," she scolded, her voice soft but firm. "He's seriously hurt."
"Hunters survive worse injuries than this," I yawned, not bothering to meet her eyes. "It's not my problem."
She raised an eyebrow, her expression skeptical. "Then why did you bring him here?"
I didn't hesitate. "I couldn't use him if he died."
She let out a long sigh. "Should I stay here with him?"
I shook my head. "No, he'll be fine. Just let him out in the morning. Shall we go?"
With a resigned nod, she finally gave in. "Fine, let's go."
Less than half an hour later, I was heading to the mages' black market, the black bag slung over my shoulder. I stood on the sidewalk in front of the Centrum Department Store, waiting for the traffic lights to flicker back to life. With the lights out at this hour, I took a careful glance around, then crossed the street—disappearing into the night with a soft, almost inaudible murmur.
"Blood magic," I whispered.
In an instant, the world around me shifted. I found myself in a dank, musty space, reminiscent of an old basement. I ascended moss-covered steps, my footsteps echoing in the dark, before spotting a faint glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel. The stairs led me to a brightly lit town, strangely out of place in the underground.
The gatekeeper glanced up as I approached, his eyes reflecting a familiar curiosity. As usual, he couldn't figure out how I always seemed to know the password—despite him changing it daily like a diligent gatekeeper. He motioned for me to pass, and without hesitation, I walked into the heart of the lair. The moment I crossed the threshold, the air shifted, and I felt a subtle, magical caress against my skin, probing my intentions.
Though it was night above ground, the dome of the underground city above me radiated with the illusion of a bright blue sky. The enchantment was so vivid, I could almost feel the warmth of the sun and the breeze tugging at my hair.
The town bustled with life, its streets alive with creatures and mages. Everything seemed deceptively normal, but I couldn't shake the unease in my gut. This place wasn't safe for those who weren't mages. Creatures from the outside world rarely left the market alive. I headed toward a dark-painted building, its entrance draped with a poison-green curtain swaying in the wind. I stepped inside.
The room was a single vast space, shelves towering high above me, cluttered with crates, cauldrons, and jars filled with strange viscera. Behind the counter, a grumpy old man glanced up from his inventory.
"What do you want?" he grumbled.
Apparently, "good service" wasn't in his vocabulary.
"I've got a deal for you," I said, setting the bag down and untying it. The corpse's head popped out from behind the black nylon, its lifeless eyes staring up at the old man.
He stood, walking closer to inspect it. "Time of death?" he asked, his tone disinterested.
"About three hours ago," I guessed, trying to sound casual.
The old man glanced over the body, then let out a small grunt. "Twenty. No more."
I sighed, not surprised. The corpse wasn't worth much more.
The old man counted the money for me. I pocketed the papers and left, stepping back into the world of mages, ready to put this transaction behind me.
When I got home, I decided to unwind with a shower. I stepped into the shower stall and turned on the tap, the warm water cascading down as I leaned my forehead against the cold tiles. I sighed, feeling the tension slowly melt away from my muscles. It had been one of those days.
The door creaked open, and Alex walked in, a towel in hand. He draped it over the laundry rack and was about to leave when I spoke up.
"Aren't you going to ask me anything?"
"Would you answer?" he asked without turning back.
"Would you answer?" he replied, his back still turned.
It didn't matter, with the steam filling the stall, he wouldn't be able to see me anyway.
"Not likely," I admitted. "But I didn't think you'd be the type to be stopped by that."
He fell silent for a beat, probably staring straight ahead.
"I can guess what you're up to," he said finally. "I read about the hunters' incredible victory on Kaleidoscope. You weren't home when the battle took place. I imagine there will be another one to read about tomorrow."
I shrugged, water dripping off my skin. "Maybe."
He sighed deeply, his voice soft but steady. "As long as you come home safe, everything will be fine."