When she takes one step back, its nostrils flare and it cocks its head. Another step back and the creature growls, leaning forward with its hands gripping either side of the buildings that made up the alley. The realization that a possible meal could escape fills the vampire with desperation and it moves to strike. What it doesn’t consider is the size of the environment is far too narrow for its mass.

One swift lunge and the vampire winds up stuck, lodged between buildings with one arm outstretched towards us and the other twisted uncomfortably behind it. It twists around, bewildered, and tries to free itself. While it manages to shift in position, however, it remains trapped and that is when Thomasin attacks.

She is small but her swordsmanship is deadly and precise. One thrust and her blade stabs through the vampire’s cheek. Another forceful shove forward causes its mouth to split open, while the rest of the sword buries into its skull. When Thomasin pulls back, the bloodsucker is miraculously still moving, snarling and spitting in rage, its caved-in face making it more nightmarish than ever.

But the suffering does not last long. Like an angel of mercy, Thomasin delivers one final blow, aiming straight for the thing’s heart. Just like the one before it, the vampire bursts and gore briefly rains down from above.

“Damn…”

Our tag-along curses under his breath, but I can hear the awe in his voice.

As Thomasin turns back to face me, thickened blood spray on her wool cloak and mask, I feel an odd surge of pride swell up inside. Maybe if we were alone, I would have kissed her. But among our new company, I decide to show some restraint and instead, I playfully ruffle the top of her hood with my hand when we’re close enough.

Even with our new friend limping along behind us, we manage to cover much of the city. Although it is far from dawn, the sun has lightened from black to indigo, giving us a few precious hours left. We decide to circle back to the street where we’d started and pick off whatever we find along the way. During this time, we pass more hunters and even assist in the extermination of a particularly fast-moving creature that one group had been struggling with. All it takes is a few well-aimed pieces of silver from Thomasin’s slingshot to knock the beast back. I close in from the side and withdraw the rosary around my hand and I can almost make out the recognition in its sickly yellow eyes as it looks upon the dragon goddess’s likeness. It hisses and tries to bolt in another direction, but my distraction becomes the damned thing’s downfall. The group handles the rest and it is thoroughly dispatched. We continue on.

I am lost in thought by the time the looming roof of my stepfather’s manor appears on the horizon. Never can I recall a time where we’ve had so few kills on the night of a hunt. Our average number is often around a dozen on a busy night and even when things are quiet, we still manage to get at least seven or so. But two?

Part of me wonders if the endless fighting has finally paid off. Perhaps the number of vampires has started to dwindle or maybe they have deemed Naver too dangerous to venture out to even once a month. I had once heard they came from a coven in the northern mountains, where the wild game population has grown plenty over the years. Why travel so far for human blood when they can feast endlessly in their own home?

When I had taken up arms and set out on that first moon seven years ago, all I had known was that I wanted to protect my city and its people. My own father had lived and died protecting his family and Thomasin’s eldest brother died as a hunter before us. I have no doubt that they would have given anything to see a day when the kingdom did not have to fear the night, when the bloodshed had finally ended and the citizens were at peace for the first time in generations.

We could throw out our guises and let our secret war fade away into memories, replaced with times of contentment instead. Or perhaps we would step forward and let the truth be known, taking credit for our bloody deeds. My mother would be furious, of course, and understandably so; I had broken so many promises and hidden so many things. But with her daughter alive and responsible for the eradication of the monsters that had taken her husband, she would definitely be proud.

And maybe, just maybe, she would have no qualms about looking the other way when I eventually make a life with Thomasin.

Consumed by all these possibilities and more, I do not immediately notice the other two slow to a stop. I walk straight into Thomasin’s back and though she extends an arm to stop me, there is no need.

Because I see it, too and I immediately wish I hadn’t.

Just one good look tells me that something about the creature makes it different from all the rest. It is nowhere near as large as the one we encountered in the alley. Though it stands as tall as I am, slender and almost delicate, I am certain that it is anything but. Its skin is not the typical pale but rather, an aged and mottled stone-gray with bruised undertones of purple.

A mass of splintered wood lay scattered at its feet and I can’t help but gape in horrified awe as it pulls off the boards on a window as easily as it would pick fruit from a tree. It looks intelligent, not mindless and bloodthirsty like its brethren. And when it catches our scent and turns it's head, I'm stunned to see discernible female details in its stringy white hair and angular face.

I don't dare look away, but from my side, I can hear Thomasin taking a quick breath and her blade sings upon release from its leather sheath. My mind is screaming at me to do the same, to ready my axe because the danger is clear. But I can't move. I can't even breathe.

A flash of movement from the edge of my vision catches my attention. Something is scurrying along the rooftop above. Another peers around a corner, hidden by shadow with only the wild green of its eye-shine visible. Two more follow, closing in on either side of us. My throat tightens as I can see more and more of those glowing wicked eyes from everywhere, both above and below, and in them I can see the same sentient glimmer that I see in the female they surround.

Thomasin’s breathing grows faster and though I do not turn my head, I finally will myself to look at her with just my eyes. She, too, is frightened. But it’s the way her blue eyes bulge in steadily-rising fury and the way her body trembles that I can tell something is wrong.

I look back at the horde in front of us and realize with a horrified lurch in my stomach that the house they have gathered in front of us none other than Thomasin’s. The boards on the window had been intended to keep the nightmares out. The Alpendane clan were not privileged like my stepfather; they could never afford silver bars to reinforce their entryways. Had we arrived any later, I am positive that they would have already made it inside where her parents and younger siblings slept.

“Get. Away.” Thomasin spits, raising her sword and readying herself.

The horde does not move. Rather, they grow still, watching and waiting for their matriarch at the center. She cocks her head inquisitively and her mouth draws out on each side in a poor imitation of a grin, but it’s too long and unsettling to seem human. Her teeth are a pristine white, but her gums hold the same sickly color as the undertones in her skin. Though we are feet away from her, the scent of her breath hits my nose and I automatically flinch. It’s a smell of rot and old age, like something ancient that has gone forgotten for centuries.

When Thomasin moves, my mind screams for her to stop but my lips remain pursed. The fear I feel comes from my most basic, primal instincts. It completely overwhelms me and keeps me rooted in place. I do nothing but watch as Thomasin makes a mad dash forward, shouting from beneath her hawk mask. She raises her blade, swinging, aiming to cleave the ancient creature into pieces.

Her sword connects, but not in the way she intended.

When the moon emerges from behind a patch of rolling clouds, a small ray of light catches the glint of Thomasin’s sword as the horrifying woman holds it, having caught it by the very tip. Her hand does not even burn from the silver edge and she regards the trickle of thick blood with mirth. One twist of the matriarch’s wrist and the blade snaps in half, shattering just like the boards on the window.

Just by the stillness of her body, I can tell Thomasin has realized her grave error. There’s no time for her to move before the vampire snatches her by the throat and raises her overhead. Her legs are dangling limply as she hangs, her torso thrashing back and forth while her hands try to pry herself free. In the process, her mask is knocked free and it clatters onto the paved street underfoot. One second, I can hear Thomasin grunting and struggling for breath. The next, she gasps and there’s a wet sound.

Blood. Hot, fresh and human, it pours down the vampire’s arms in crimson streams and pools on the cobblestone. The horde that surrounds us is quivering, their glowing eyes huge and their guttural hissing sounds hungry and eager. The sound of screaming fills my ears; I don’t know where it’s coming from until I put a hand over my own mouth and realize that it’s me.

The matriarch regards me with a cool expression. She drops Thomasin and lets her fall like a ragdoll to the ground in her own blood. My gorge rises while I watch her tongue slide along her red-stained arm from elbow to palm. Her eyes roll and again, that mockery of a grin twists across her features.

To my surprise, however, she turns her back on me and her coven follows suit. One by one, the green eyes began to fade into the shadows while their ancient elder retreats. When I manage to break my horrified stare, I see that the first signs of dawn have come creeping over the horizon, tinging the sky in light purple hues. The sun is here, but far too late.

Soon enough, I’m alone and I can’t bring myself to chase after the beasts. Instead, I drop to my knees and will my body to crawl towards Thomasin’s still form.

She’s still conscious, but only just barely. Her neck is split and gushing blood. I go to push the cloth of my cloak against the wound to staunch the flow, but I know it’s futile. Thomasin gurgles as she looks at me and the tears start to blur my vision when she tries to smile through a blood-filled mouth. She reaches up, but her hand only makes it to my chin before it weakly drops back to her side.

I remove my mask and hold her. She feels so small and broken, hardly the young woman with the fierce swordsmanship I had come to love. It’s hard to kiss anywhere on her face without wetting my lips in her blood, but I do it anyways and wipe my mouth on my sleeve.

“Fayne.”

She manages my name but her voice rattles with death. I nod and cup her face, but it’s so hard to keep myself from completely shutting down.

“You...you need to go.” Thomasin presses.

“No.”

I cradle her, still holding my coat to her slit throat. She sputters a little and when she takes in a breath, I can hear a bubbling noise that starts at her chest and rises to her windpipe. Her eyes narrow just a little and she tries to look firm.

“The hunt m-must...continue.” she spits and I can tell that it is taking everything she has to even speak these words. “Don’t...g-get caught.”

“Fuck the hunt!” I shout, unable to control my volume. “I can’t do it without you, Thomasin. I can’t fucking do that!”

Another hack and more blood gushes from between her lips.

“Fayne...please. Protect them.”

She inhales or tries to. Her body shudders and I can hear the horrible wet sound in her lungs. I can’t blink, can’t think. And when she doesn’t breathe again, I start to scream.

The sun has risen. It won’t be long until the early risers in town will emerge and find the bloodbath in the street. And Thomasin was right - I will be found and caught if I continue to linger, but I don’t want to let her go.

Something touches my shoulder and I involuntarily jump. The boy with the injured leg stands behind me. I had completely forgotten about him and thought he had fled during the brief conflict. He is stunned and lost for words, gaping at me. A few times, he opens his mouth to say something but cannot bring himself to do it. He sighs in defeat and shakes his head.

“...I’m sorry.”

I look away from him and shift Thomasin’s weight in my arms. With her layered clothes and equipment still on her belt, she is heavier than I expect her to be. Still, I heft her up from the place where she was dropped and make my way towards the front steps of the Alpendane home. It’s not very far, only a few steps at best. But it is the most painful walk I have ever felt. I kneel down and lay her gently on the bottom step. I take her slingshot and her small drawstring pouch of silver pieces, her mask and the lower half of her broken sword. I wipe the blood from her mouth and pull her cloak up to cover her neck, though it’s pointless to try and hide what was done.

The second I am finally able to let her go, I have to force myself to turn my back and keep going. If I don’t, I will only return to her side and continue to weep. But I can’t do that. She told me what I must do and I feel obligated to honor her final words.

I retrieve my own mask and wearily regard the strange boy that shadowed us for the night.

“You should leave. Go get that leg fixed and sleep. I’m sorry you had to see any of this.”

He says nothing and only watches me as I pass him and make my way up the slope of the hill towards my stepfather’s estate. I don’t remember scaling the tree in the yard, climbing along the roof or slipping back into my room while the rest of the house still slept.

I must have gone into the washroom before retreating to my bed, because when the sound of Thomasin’s mother screaming makes me open my eyes, I am clean of blood and everything feels empty.