Sanguine City came to life at night.  

Cloaked vampires crossed the bustling convoluted streets with the hoods pulled tightly over their heads to protect their sensitive ears. Gwyneira had made sure Emrys wore the knitted beanie she’d leant him since he somehow thought he was the only vampire in the country immune to the subzero temperatures.  She couldn’t let her client freeze his poor ears off.

Emrys kept himself pressed close to her amid the crowd of vampires that scanned her like a piece of fresh meat.  The protectiveness that gleamed in his eyes when his fingers gently brushed hers sent warm flutters through her chest.  

No other vampire dared to touch her as they crossed through Nocturne Night Alley.  Vampire-owned shops and boutiques dominated the dark buildings around them, and Gwyneira couldn’t help but peek inside each one with morbid fascination.  Vampire fashion had always intrigued her, even as a young girl.  She found their elegant dresses of midnight and rich burgundy so exquisite.

Gwyneira had no shame in her own skin, but she lacked the confidence to ever don such lovely garments.  They passed a shop with mannequins clad in all kinds of fancy formalwear, but a certain velvet burgundy dress caught her eye.  She couldn’t help but stop for a very brief moment to admire it.  As a little girl, she used to imagine she’d someday grow into such gorgeous gowns and wear them all the time.

However, Gwyneira knew an off shoulder dress like that with such a deep revealing V neck would only look atrocious on her frame.  She was not blessed enough in certain areas to fill it out.

“Hey, are you all right?” Emrys rested a gentle hand on her shoulder.

Gwyneira shook such frivolous thoughts aside and moved away from the window display.  “I’m good.  The pub is just around the corner, right?”

“Yeah.” Emrys nodded as he slid an arm around her back when a pair of male vampires flashed their bloodstained fangs at her, crimson eyes glowing amid the dark of night.  “Let’s go.”

It was quite nice to walk down the sidewalk without the worries of some despicable vampire unable to keep their hands and fangs to themselves.  Of course, Gwyneira knew her defensive spells and would not hesitate to hex a bloodsucker’s family jewels to smithereens if he dared to do anything sinister to her. She kept her government issued ID on her for protective measures, but she also knew a measly little magic-infused card would do little to deter a hungry vampire who had no respect for the law.

Icy wind clawed at Gwyneira’s face and stung her eyes as she sneaked a peek inside the black-tinted windows of The Bat and Blood. Of course, the magically-imbued privacy glass prevented her from seeing anything or anyone. She huffed a breath, and it floated in the air like a tiny ghost. 

She let Emrys take the lead, not wishing to be the first to tread inside a dangerous den of bloodthirsty snakes.  The sickeningly sweet tang that lingered in the suffocation pub was enough to make her reel on her feet.  Music drifted throughout the room, but she barely heard it over the lecherous moans and slurping.

Emrys latched his arm around hers, and the discomfort in his gaze mimed her own.  She tried not to gawk at the sight of a trio of vamps sucking on a mortal man who had been stripped down to nothing but his black boxers.  The man moaned without shame, and she averted her eyes when one of the vampires ducked underneath the table to suck on tender areas she did not wish to know about.

Vulgar did little to describe the sights before her.  Gwyneira was no prude by any means, but she was certainly not used to the debauchery scene of blood, sex, and drugs. Many sprinkled white and crimson powders on the tables to snort up, until the reds of their eyes were swallowed by an unsettling black shade.  

Emrys leaned closer, until his lips nearly brushed her earlobe, and whispered. “Do you see that table over there? The man with a red dragon tattoo on his forearm?” 

Gwyneira squinted through the haze of smoke around them.  “Yes, I see him.  Who is he?”

“Nickolai Fangor, known as Redclaw on the streets. He’s their underboss.”

“Interesting.  Have you ever spoken with him before?” Gwyneira asked.  

“No, never.  All my dealings were with Iron Fang.” Emrys guided them to an empty booth, allowing her to slide in first and be protected by the wall.  “Try not to stare too much.  We don’t want to attract their attention.”

“What about the others?  Who are they?  What are their roles?”  she asked.

“The vamp wearing the tie covered in tiny bats goes by Bats.”

“How original,” she snorted.

“They call him that because he’s batshit.  Please, stay far away from him.” Emrys shook his head when she quipped a curious brow.  “He’s a binge drinker and not ashamed of it in the slightest.  His cravings control him.  Just the tiniest amount of blood will drive him wild, and he won’t stop until he’s drained his poor victim dry.  They’ve kicked him out of here plenty of times for draining men and women to unconsciousness.  Some unfortunate souls end up never waking up.”

“Goddesses, protect me.” Gwyneira signed the cross over her chest.  “As much as  I hate to admit this, he does sound like a very good suspect.  You said his cravings control him, right?  What if he lashed out at Iron Fang?  I could see someone like that ripping into his chest and devouring his heart.”

Emrys curled his nose in disgust.  “Gross.  Tell that brother-in-law of yours to keep an eye on him then.  Don’t even think about speaking to him either.  He’d rip both our hearts out and eat them before the sun even came up.”

“I don’t have a death wish.” Gwyneira rolled her eyes.  “What about the vamp beside him?  Real quiet-looking fella wearing a fedora.”

“Don’t worry about him.  He didn’t kill Iron Fang.” The look in Emrys’ eyes had gone cold and distant as he stared over at the table of vampires.  

“Who is he?” Gwyneira reached over, gently touching Emrys’ hand.  He jerked his head down at the contact, but he didn’t pull away from her like she’d expected him to.

“My brother.  Well, one of them.” Emrys let out a strained chuckle.  “Lionel grew up with me after I was taken away from my mother.  He was always a shy and nerdy kid growing up, and our father hated that. That’s why our older brother, raised us. We were the defective heirs.”

“I’m sorry, Emrys.” She gently squeezed his hand. “How did Lionel end up with the mafia?”

“They promised to take care of him like a real family. Give him all the blood and fairydust he could ever crave.” Emrys poked his lower lip with his fang. “That’s why I go to them for my blood pills now. For a price, of course.  I’m not foolish enough to think those ruthless pricks are family or care about me.”

“We should talk to Lionel.  He might know something, and he won’t kill us,” Gwyneira suggested.  “We just need to get him alone and away from the others.”

“It’s safer if we keep our distance.  I haven’t spoken to Lionel in many years.  While I have no doubt he won’t kill us, I can’t say he won’t stand by and let his new family cut our hearts out.”

Gwyneira frowned. “You don’t like how he turned to them for help, do you?” 

“Not at all.” A low growl rumbled off his chest.  “The pot’s calling the kettle black now, isn’t it?  At least Lionel hasn’t been accused of murder yet.”

It was odd to be in a pub and not order anything.  Gwyneira hadn’t gotten the sense that anyone paid them much attention, and if they did, they probably thought they were voyeurs.  With Emrys’ blood drinking condition and her reluctance to drink anything in such a place, they remained at their booth and conspired to get Lionel alone somehow.  Gwyneira thought it best to wait until they left and corner him outside, but unfortunately, that plan went out the window.

“Is that really you, Gwyneira?” That voice sounded somewhat familiar but recognition didn’t click until Gwyneira glanced up at the male vampire towering over their table with a blood-stained grin.  

“Alexander.” Gwyneira blinked a few times in surprise at the sight of her old law school classmate.  “It’s, uh, good to see you.”

“I did not expect to find you in a place like this.” Alexander laughed, his crimson eyes shifting over to Emrys.  “What sort of charm did you put on Gwyneira to get her here, huh?”  When Emrys’ growled in response, Alexander held up a hand with that still obnoxious grin of his.  “I’m joking.  You want to join us for some drinks?  Don’t worry, Gwyneira, we’ll get you some water too.”

“How generous of you, but we’ll have to decline.” Gwyneira pressed her lips tightly together.  

“You’re no fun.” Alexander pouted.  “Come on, for old time’s sake?  There’s a handful of us in the back.”

Just when Gwyneira prepared to tell him to screw off, she noticed Lionel slip out of his seat and wander off into the back section of the pub.  None of the others at their table followed him.  This was their chance.  

Gwyneira plastered on her sweetest smile.  “You know what, I think we might just have to take you up on that offer.”