There's no one left here… Along the riverside path, the lights illuminated Harvey. He took the cigarette from his mouth and watched the smoke drift away on the breeze above the river. He stopped, feeling the temperature of the ring on his left hand start to rise. It was it…
Up ahead, it was pitch black. At some point, the streetlight had gone out. Harvey pulled a few crumpled pieces of biscuit from his pocket. In the darkness, there were slow and deliberate footsteps. The ring was getting hotter. He tightened his grip on his gun, ready to shoot at any moment. He didn't need to kill it; after all, he was an exorcist, not a hunter. His backup, hidden in the shadows, would help him.
Ethan was slowly distancing himself from the nightclub, feeling relaxed again. In hindsight, he found his earlier reaction quite ridiculous. Those two lunatics thought a 16-year-old girl would run away from home and kill three people—did he think that too? Perhaps the bartender lied just because he didn't want to admit he was friends with a murderer.
The night breeze blew across his face. He had to admit he'd panicked a bit, fleeing without much thought. Unknowingly, he'd ended up by the river where there were no lights. He listened to the sound of the water flowing and the squawking seagulls. He glanced at his digital watch—it was almost midnight. By the time he got home, it would be 1 AM. If he didn't hurry, he'd miss the last tram.
It looked like this lead had gone cold. He'd been to the last place the girl was seen, but came up empty. His deduction had been wrong. The guy in jail had given him a fake number, and the person on the other end wasn't Hex Salvador. Another dead end. Why were there so many red herrings, one after another?
Up ahead, a streetlight finally came into view. To be honest, they really needed to fix this road. With all the taxes the state collects, the downtown lights should at least work. Wait...who was that standing under the light?
As he got closer—oh, it was just a person. A strange one, standing motionless in the middle of the street at this hour. Could he be high? No, he didn't look like it. His clothes seemed normal, and he looked clean enough. One hand was in his pocket, and the other was holding some... biscuits?
A boy emerged from the darkness, looking like a high school student. The ring grew even hotter. Harvey took a step back. He looked different from the photo… but that didn't matter. The feeling in his hand never lied. He stared into the boy's eyes and threw the biscuits he was holding.
Ethan figured it was best not to mess with this guy, whether he was having a mental breakdown or something else. He tried to walk past quickly, but the man stared at him intently and flicked the biscuits right at him. The throw was dead-on, and he failed to dodge.
The boy darted to the side, but the food still touched his exposed hand. He blinked, but his eyes didn't turn red—no blood iris. Not him. Even a mature ghoul couldn't suppress such a physical reaction, let alone a newborn. Harvey frowned. If the boy wasn't the target…
Ethan shook off the crumbs from his hand. What the heck! This guy really was a nutcase. His eyes caught the outline of something in the man's pocket, and a flash of weapon specs surged through his mind—he had a gun!
Harvey's eyes narrowed. He murmured a prayer, and the sigil tattooed on his back glowed. A purple light shone through the fabric of his trench coat. In an instant, a pair of red eyes appeared on the boy's shoulder.
...
Ethan didn't know what drove him, but suddenly he was filled with an inexplicable courage. It had to be adrenaline. The world slowed down. He watched the man bend, and just as he reached for his gun, Ethan sprang forward like a coiled spring. A flash of firelight above his head—he slammed hard into the man's stomach.
The gun fired at such close range, the sound was like an explosion in his ear, filling the air with a deafening hum. He tackled the man to the ground, grabbed the gun from his hand, and looked back.
Somehow, a small figure lay on the ground, blood seeping from a wound.
Damn it, there was someone else.
He shoved the gun into his pocket and, gasping for breath, heart pounding, clumsily crawled toward the unmoving child. He checked the wrist—thankfully, there was still a pulse.
The man climbed back up, purple light inexplicably shining from his back. It had to be a hallucination. Ethan lifted the child's neck with one hand and their knees with the other, picking them up.
Just then, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed. A tall figure wearing a blank mask approached rapidly from the distance, also holding a gun. What was happening tonight!? Ethan, panicked and carrying the bleeding child, started to run. He tripped and fell face-first into the ground, right onto the child's bleeding body. When he looked up, his face was covered in blood. Ugh! He spat out the metallic-tasting mix of blood and saliva, feeling like he'd swallowed some.
He scrambled back up, too scared to look back, fear driving him forward. Honestly, he didn't even know he could run this fast. He just felt faster and faster, like he was about to take flight.
As he ran, at some point a mask settled over his face.
A wall appeared before him. He leapt, clearing the 2-3 meter height in a single bound.
...
Harvey watched as the boy gradually vanished into the distance, moving at the speed of a speeding car. He brushed the dust off his trench coat. Who would've thought a mere mortal would dare face the barrel of a gun to save a ghoul, especially when the mortal was its prey. Hmph… If it wasn't for that sneak attack, he wouldn't have been knocked down.
A black mark appeared on the white mask worn by the man next to him. The man, looking at least over fifty, with dark skin and graying black hair, holding a revolver, was ready to give chase.
"No need to pursue, Father. Let him go."
"Was he under the influence of Presence?" the priest asked.
"No. If the ghoul's discipline had affected him, he would've had a blood iris reaction after touching the food."
"But you saw the ghoul's eyes. She was using her discipline"
"I suspect it was Obfuscate or Chimerstry."
"A ghoul with two disciplines?"
"Yes, it's rare, but it could be more than two. There's a high chance it includes Celerity too."
"And how did you figure that out?"
"The child ingested the blood of a Cainite. He should already be a hunter. As one, you should know better than me how the pact is signed"
"Unless the ghoul is already dead, how could she ever want to share her power?"
"Do you think a dying newborn would care about such things? Or perhaps she didn't even understand the significance of it, so she didn't refuse the hunter's pact."
"So, you figured it out from the child?"
"Yes. When we get back, I need Phoebe to scry his name, and then Donna to contact the Association. A ghoul with three lineage abilities deserves more!"