Layton was not really what you would call a ‘connoisseur’ of the opposite sex. He’d dabbled here and there, but he much preferred the company of his weapons, and a sweat worked up from sparring, than he did an evening of sexual pleasure.

It made Rassa’s criteria for tonight’s hunt all the more annoying. Challenging? Of course, to those not adept. Layton was not much for conversation with those he was not comfortable with, and his metal piercings through his lip, eyebrow, ears, tongue and nose were all a certain kind of terrifying to most respectable women. He usually had to pay for a particularly brave whore if he wanted to release himself. Sel and Rassa had both told him that it was probably the generally chaotic aura he gave off as well. That, unfortunately, wasn’t entirely on purpose.

Growing up where he had, amongst thieves, murderers and the worst of the human rot, he’d learned early how to survive. He’d learned early that if he was better at it, if he enjoyed it more than they did, then all of a sudden it was them who were fearful of him. He’d still had a weakness back then though. He’d still had his mother, wasted as she was. He’d gotten too comfortable in her presence, and one night, those men who had come to fear his potential had taken him and sold him off to the slavers. He’d let his rage at this weakness bleed out through his enemies on the hard-packed sand of the Warrior’s Arena floor.

The other Reapers had been his only solace. Souls that were perhaps not as tortured, but certainly as vengeful. But Aegin…Aegin had been like a light in the dark. He had spent two years protecting a woman they only let him see once a week. At first, Layton hadn’t been able to figure him out, but he’d seen it when he’d been able to watch Aegin, unshackled, in the Arena. Aegin had grown up just like him.

When Layton had met Rassa, he’d seen nothing but shadows at first. But then he’d seen the confidence, the dominating aura. And the others had too. This was not a kindred spirit like Aegin had been. But without a doubt he was somebody that they could trust. That they could put their lives on the line for. Because Rassa Moonshadow would do exactly the same for them.

Layton had wanted nothing more than to stand in that shadow, to feel it’s warmth, protection, and its power. He had yet to be disappointed by it. In fact, standing within that shadow he felt the most powerful and the most at home that he’d ever felt.

Hunting with Rassa Moonshadow was not a game to the Coven. It was a privilege. It was their Lord and Master standing at the head of the table and telling them, the lowly peasants, to join him. Even a hundred or a thousand years from now, Layton knew he would still feel the same joy when in his Master’s Shadow. It did not matter what demand Rassa made of him. It was worth it to feel as content and alive as he did.

Layton, leaning against a lamppost in the square as he watched the dancing of the night’s festivities, sensed a curious gaze from the side. He smiled, biting his lip ring in anticipation as he put his hands into his pockets.

He may not be appealing to any woman who laid eyes upon him as Rassa was, but the more daring would occasionally pluck up the courage to approach him. In Layton’s opinion that was better, the more daring ones often were more fun.

***

Iah paced at a leisurely stroll through the streets, her heels clicking on the cobblestones. The others had all gone towards the more heavily populated areas, but Iah had decided to go where they’d usually hunt. To back alleys and side streets.

She had not lied in saying that she was uncomfortable with seduction. She firmly believed that one should wait until marriage. She had no prospects, and with eternity in front of her she hadn’t the pressing weight of time to affect her reasoning. So instead she paced leisurely, walking in circles along the streets near the apartment complex, her heels clicking on cobblestones, and her purse jingling with coins in her hand.

She would hunt, just as they all would when the opportunity to hunt with their Lord and Master came. But she would hunt on her terms. Knowing Rassa, he would simply sit back and smile in approval when he learned of her methods.

Sure enough, she had not been walking long before her prey fell into sight.

“You’re looking especially lovely tonight, Miss, but you look a little lost. Is there something wrong?”

Iah smiled, “I find myself in a minor dilemma, seeing as you are so kind as to concern yourself with me, would you mind sparing a few moments of your time?”

The prey looked hesitant. Iah held up her purse and shook it, the coins jingling inside.

“For a price, of course”.

The hesitance vanished, “What would you like me to do, Miss?”

***

Mathius sat in the quiet tea house, his tea steaming in front of him as he gazed out of the window beside him.

One year and one week since his release, and he still felt the hunger eating away at his insides. He still felt it as his flesh festered and died. As his mind retreated into the darkness and he was left standing at the edge of nothingness.

He had learned his lesson. He had learned to reign in the hunger. He had learned to not let it control him. But most of all, he had learned to never cross Rassa Moonshadow…at least, not unless you were confident of victory.

He’d had his small victories since his release. He’d learned that his power was but a fraction of his Master’s, so instead he’d used his mind. His mind had never failed him before. When Rassa had suggested implementing the Railway on the Southern Continent, Mathius had protested. At first it had fallen on deaf ears, but he’d gone and done his research and come back with a full report of what needed to be achieved before Rassa could even think of implementing the system elsewhere. Rassa had, shockingly, conceded. Then praised him.

Mathius had learned in that moment that while Rassa Moonshadow was one of the most, if not the most powerful being in the known world, he was not without reason.

Besides, Mathius had known businessmen a long time before he’d met Rassa. They may be enraged by lies coming from their subordinates, but a little white lie managed to slip under the radar every now and then.

Mathius had learned that his Vampiric abilities would not help him achieve more in the world. But his abilities as a businessman certainly would.

“Is the tea not to your liking, Sir?” asked the widower who owned the tea shop.

Mathius turned to her with a small smile, “Forgive me, it may be strange but I prefer the scent over the taste. It reminds me of my late wife”.

“Oh, I see, I’m sorry for your loss,” said the Widower.

Mathius shook his head, “Don’t be, it was many years ago. Besides, I remember her more as a dear friend than anything else”.

The Widower smile warmly, “Aye, my Francis was like that too”.

Mathius looked to her, knowing the bait had been set. A hunt such as this where words were more useful than his Vampiric abilities? It was a sure win for him.

“Oh? Did your Francis spend his days determined to ensure that you smelled the roses before you picked them to bring home to him as a gift?”

The Widower looked surprised before she chuckled and sat down with ease in the seat opposite Mathius, “No, but he did always insist on me tasting his attempts at cooking. It still makes me shocked that he would leave this earth before I”.

At her laugh, Mathius chuckled with her, knowing that within an hour, he would be tasting her blood.

***

Talo grinned at the man opposite him who looked nervously over to the man on his right. He was about to lose the ten silver he’d bet with. Talo could smell it. He looked over at the one they were all waiting for to play his hand. He was more thoughtful and composed this one, but Talo could smell that he was one bad judgement away from losing too. The man looked back at Talo’s confidence, self-assured grin, then sighed.

“I’ll raise two silver,” he said, throwing the coins into the centre of the table.

Talo sat up straighter and took two of his own coins, “Call”.

The nervous man bit his lip, then picked up two of his coins. Compulsive gambler, who was quite inept at keeping his expression calm, “Call”.

The table and onlookers turned once more to the other man. He looked at Talo, then sighed and revealed his hand. Two pairs.

Talo nodded with an impressed expression, then looked across the table at the nervous man who looked surprised for a minute, looking between his money and his cards before he looked at Talo.

Talo put down his cards. Full House.

The other man clicked his teeth in annoyance as Talo smiled across the table.

The man, unable to avoid his fate, carefully put down his cards. A single pair.

Talo smiled, “Well, I think I’m done for the day, thanks for the game, gentleme-”

Talo had the sense to move his arm as a rather busty and voluptuous young woman with a daring amount of cleavage landed in his lap, “So soon, Mister? Surely you can do that again, you look like you’re pretty good at this!”

She pouted.

Talo caught the smirk of his more confident opponent that was quickly hidden as he turned away. Much to the woman’s surprise, Talo leaned forward, caging her between himself at the table, “Mighty bold of you sitting in my lap like that, are you usually this...” Talo took the opportunity to stare down her cleavage. He was positive he could bury himself between her generous swells and die a happy man “…forward, or am I just a lucky bastard tonight?”

The woman was good, she collected herself mighty quickly as she leaned up to him and whispered into his ear, “Win another game and I’ll gladly celebrate any way you want”.

Talo smiled as he turned to her, “What? Without even a prior promise? I might be going home to someone right now, I hardly think-”

He was cut off as she took the opportunity to tangle her fingers in his hair and plant her mouth on his, her tongue diving in.

Oh yeah, she was an experienced one for sure. Not that Talo was complaining. He kissed her back, whistles of appreciation floating around the bar before she pulled back with a satisfied smile, clearly impressed by his return of the kiss, “That promise enough?”

Talo put his hands on her hips, lifting her slightly to reposition her on his knee as he looked over to the dealer, “One more round couldn’t hurt”.

The woman wrapped an arm around his shoulders, leaning down to nibble on his ear lobe. Oh, she was playing a dangerous game there.

Talo took his cards, then, like the sound of a fan, he clicked through them. The other two, both holding their hands and sorting them, looked at him in surprise. Talo took his newly rearranged winnings and pushed them out, “All in”.

The entire room went silent. Stupefied. The young woman paused, “Ah…are you sure?”

Talo turned to her, a smile on his lips, “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You barely glimpsed at your card-”

Talo turned to the man opposite him, indicating that it was his turn.

The man looked at Talo’s mound of winnings, then his own, cards before he gave a determined huff and pushed his earnings forward.

Then they both turned to the calm man. He was not looking so calm now. Now he looked genuinely confused, and a little rattled. He glanced at the woman in Talo’s lap. Talo didn’t even need to look at her to know that she had no response to his silent question. Then the man released a breath with a sigh before he gathered himself and pushed his earnings forward as well. Talo put down his cards. Five of a Kind.

The formerly calm man sighed in defeat as he put down his straight. A good hand. Then the last man put down two pairs.

Talo turned to look at the woman in his lap who looked just a little bit impressed beyond her shock.

“I’m headed off now, care to follow through on that promise of yours?”

The woman looked at him, then gave a barely perceptible glance away to somebody else before she smiled and leaned in close, “By the warmth beneath my skirts, I’m positive I’m quite impressed and willing, Mister”.

Talo smirked, bagging up his winnings as she climbed off his lap and clung to his arms.

Talo grinned as he left the bar, wondering if he got a bonus for bringing home monetary winnings as well.