(9) Trevor Wallace - Dhampir

We make love several times until she falls asleep, wrapped in my arms.

I don’t understand. Don’t get my feelings. She’s just another woman. Not even particularly pretty. I don’t even know her, know much about her. But still she touches me somewhere deep inside.

When I’m sure she’s fast asleep, I move silently from the bed. Dress. Look down at her, brush a strand of hair from her face. Bend to kiss her forehead.

Go to get my coat and sword. I have my job to do. I have no time for this. Don’t need to get involved with some chick. Good fuck. Better than good. But that’s it.

On the street I pause, looking up at her window. “Good-bye,” I whisper. Then move on.

I go to the park where I last saw the pair of Vampyres. The early morning sun glows through the haze. I walk to the building. Find the entrance. Enter. No one stops me because no one’s there. Too early.

But late enough my bastard prey should be asleep. Now to find where. Searching. There has to be someplace below. Unknown to the humans. Moving outside to where I saw them vanish. Smiling coldly when I find it. But how to get in? Frowning. Back inside. Searching again. There.

Entering what is unknown to the owners of the building. Only Vampyre or Dhampir would have seen. Following the broken steps down to the lair. Empty. Caskets open, abandoned. How mythically typical.

They must have sensed me following last night. Wily bastards. If I had come in here it could have been my life lost.

The search starts again tonight.

For the next few weeks all my time is spent searching for the pair of Vampyres. Seeing them twice in all that time. Following. Finding the places they lead me to empty of the creatures the next morning. Mockingly empty.

All my nights are consumed with the hunt. I change residences soon after the start of it. And change again. Not taking the chance that they have followed me as well. Rented room to rented room. Collapsing into bed. Bone tired. Sleeping only to get up and start the hunt again.

Finally they slip up.

The young one, the fledgling, must be getting impatient. He manages, somehow, to get away from his sire. I follow. He culls a willing chick from the crowds on Decatur. Leads her to the darkness by the river. Following. Sword drawn. Foolish woman screams. He silences her. My luck, not hers. Ashes, blood, his, hers. You can’t save them all. Her body into the water. It will turn up someday. Probably.

Back to find the sire. No luck. But I’m patient. I’ll find him.

A week later. He shows—foolish Vampyre—on Royal. Invisible, hunting just as I am, but for a different prey. Doesn’t he realize I’d be looking for him? Creature of habit. It’ll be the death of him.

Tailing, this time not loosing him. He finds a victim. Male. Must have entered his mind. The man walks as if in a trance 'til he finds an alley. Vampyre right behind him. Doesn’t even go visible, just attacks. He must be starving. Doesn’t realize I’m there 'til it’s too later. Or doesn’t care. Thinks he can handle me when he’s finished. He tries. Drops the man, turns. Grinning, fangs bloody. Thinks I’m human I suppose, because he tries to enter my mind. One dead bastard Vampyre. Leave the man where he fell. Alive, barely.

Hunt over. Till the next one.

Time to find release. Start to troll the Quarter but none look…appealing. Male or female. I need to find Nora. No. Yes. Damn it. Not good. But I do.