It’s snowing again.

I wearily slap my cheeks in the cold, trying to wake myself up. Writing up that dissection practical took longer than I expected. It wasn’t that I didn’t get enough sleep – I just wanted more, as opposed to needed more.

Before I start walking anywhere I stare down the street-lit road, thinking. With a bounty of ten thousand placed on this demon’s head, I’ve decided to alter my usual patrol route. Instead of just walking a circle around the city I’m thinking about heading along the outskirts of the residential district, bordering the woods.

The demon is feral, and will thus probably stay in its old home in the wild until it attains a better grasp of how society works. Assuming it’s nocturnal due to biological reasons or convenience, I might be able to catch it as it leaves the woods in search of a target.

I may be reading too much into the situation, but better that than stabbing in the dark.

My gambit pays off when I hear a stifled choke in the distance, not too far from here. My feet are moving before my brain can even give the command.

I hope I’m not too late.

I’m running at full speed, gliding over the landscape. Flecks of snow whirl around me as I blast through, skimming across the powdery ground. I call out to Nightfall in my mind and feel it respond, its reassuring presence touching my right hand.

Over there.

I skid to a halt and make a sharp turn, leaping over a fallen branch. The snow-covered concrete gives way to dirt.

I’ve arrived.

Soft snow trickles from the sky.

The rain of white slowly paints the deserted park, coating the swings and slides in a layer of cold.

The ground is as white as the sky is black. The stars are as numerous as the flakes spiraling down from the heavens.

The girl stands up from the carcass on the ground. Her face is as pale as the snow. Her silky fair hair dances around her shoulders, playing with the breeze. Her white gown reaches to her knees, shivering in the cold light.

She wipes the blood from her mouth. A red droplet trickles down her chin and falls onto the ground, staining it. Alone in the white park, the only colour to be seen is the red of her lips and the red of the corpse.

My breath catches in my throat. Despite her monstrous nature, she is beautiful, a princess of the night. I feel the grip on my sword loosen.

She notices me and turns around. Her eyes are also red, like the blood on her lips. They begin to form words.

“Have you come for me?”

I’m frozen in awe for a moment, as frozen as the ground I’m standing on. Her words flew right past my ears.

“Have you come for me?” she asks again, licking the blood away from her mouth.

This time, I’m able to answer.

“Demon,” I say. “Get away from him.”

The girl takes a few steps away from the corpse. I can’t make it out clearly, but it’s probably in the same mangled state as the previous ones.

“This ends tonight,” I declare. “You’ve caused enough trouble as it is. As much as I’d like to, I’m not going to let you increase that bounty of yours any further.”

Her face is expressionless as she softly replies. “You are mistaken.”

For a second, the way she voices it almost makes me doubt myself. Then, as quickly as that thought flickers by, it’s gone.

She almost had me entranced with her appearance alone. I won’t let her do it again.

Without warning I leap forward, Nightfall’s power feeding strength into my limbs. With its aid, the several dozen metres between us are closed in a single bound, a feat incapable of any ordinary human. Now right up in her face, I realize just how beautiful she is.

No. That’s just another of their tools, making them the ultimate predators. It’s exactly the sort of self-defense something like a succubus would use to deter her prey. If I can just bypass this, Nightfall will handle the rest-

Clang.

Moonlight comes and parries my blow.

For a moment, confusion takes over my mind. What just happened?

I look at where Nightfall has stopped, inches away from her body. I thought it was a beam of moonlight, but now I that I’m able to catch a closer glimpse I realize it’s a weapon; a longsword to be precise. Whereas Nightfall is as black as the night, this blade looks as pure and silver as the moon. A shimmering aura of the same colour drifts from it, interweaving with Nightfall’s own blackness.

“A Divine Edge,” I whisper.

It’s not unheard of for a demon to possess such a weapon. After all, they possess souls too – as black as they are. However, this is the first time I’ve ever come across such a pure Edge.

Recovering from my shock, I quickly launch another series of attacks. Each swing cuts swiftly and efficiently towards her, aiming to surpass her guard, but each is blocked effortlessly. The sound of our blades meeting rings across the playground like bells.

This is bad. I’ve already given it everything I’ve got and she’s swatted it aside without batting an eye. It’s not that I’m incompetent – she is just on a completely different level.

I immediately disengage, leaping back a fair distance. This calls for a regrouping and change of plans.

She’s a demon for sure, there’s no doubt about it. No ordinary human could stand in the cold in only a white frock, not to mention the fact that I caught her red-handed – or rather, red-mouthed.

“I’m not your enemy,” she says, still holding the sword before her. “As to whether or not I’m your ally, that remains to be seen.”

Damnit. What do I do? This could all be a trick…

“Take a closer look at him,” she says, interrupting my thoughts. “Do I look like I killed him?”

She steps back, beckoning for me to come closer. After noticing my wary eyes on her sword, she immediately dismisses it and raises her palms, a gesture of good will. I tentatively take one step, and then another forward, until the dead man’s body is right before my shoes.

His chest has been ripped apart as usual, but this time his innards aren’t spilling everywhere. I don’t know if it’s because there weren’t imps around this time, or if the killer is getting smarter.

“It doesn’t look like my work, does it?” she asks. “If I’d killed him, my hands would be stained red.”

She’s got a point. The way the wound was opened looks like it was wrenched open by vicious claws, or extremely long nails. The way her nails are so shortly cut, a wound opened up by those fingers would look completely different.

“Then why?” I ask. “You had his blood on your lips. Are you a scavenger?”

I haven’t completely lowered my guard as I watch her out of the corner of my eye. Even if she most likely outclasses me, I won’t go down without a fight.

“I was trying to determine the time and cause of death,” she explains.

A frown creases my forehead. “From his blood alone?”

It hits me before she can answer.

“You’re a vampire.”

She nods. “I have reason to believe that one of my own is doing the killing. Feral vampires are victim to their instincts, and will viciously attack the source of the prey’s blood without restraint. As a result, the prey is usually killed outright; their hearts ripped out of their chests much like in this case.”

“What’s a normal vampire attack like then? Do you kill them in a more elegant fashion or something?”

Her lips curl in distaste as she shakes her head. “If that were the case, you humans would have wiped us out a long time ago. No, we modern vampires have mostly chosen to integrate with society and become vegetarians – that is, drinking only animal blood, and usually just enough so they don’t die.”

“Vegetarian vampires?” I scoff. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve heard.”

“Then you clearly haven’t heard enough,” she snaps. “Just as some humans are vegetarians, some vampires also prefer not to kill living animals. Even if we wanted to, the only way we can survive is by adhering to your rules. Despite our power, humans have proven time and time again that their strength in numbers is not to be underestimated.”

At this rate, I think she would have attacked me by now if she were out to kill me. Dismissing Nightfall, I grab my phone and take aim at the corpse.

“What makes you so sure it’s the work of a feral vampire?” I ask, touching the screen. A bright flash lights up the park. The girl winces at the light.

“All the blood types of the victims have been O type. To a vampire nothing provides more power and is more delicious than O type blood, so it makes sense for the killer to target these victims, if it’s following its instincts.”

As she says this, a strange hunger takes over her red eyes – but disappears within a single blink. At this moment, I realize my blood type is also O.

Turning flash off, I take another, less successful photo of the corpse. “So why then?” I ask. “We demon hunters aren’t exactly best friends with demons. Why are you helping me?”

“It’s simply in both our best interests,” she says. “ANGEL does not currently know we are coexisting with humans. However, if this feral vampire is allowed to continue on its rampage, our existence may become jeopardized. If they try and flush out a rat from a house and instead find a whole nest, there’s no doubt they’d try and exterminate us – and you’ve experienced first-hand how powerful we are, as low as we number. I’m sure you wouldn’t want a war to kick off right in your hometown.”

“What makes you think that?” I test.

Her eyes immediately harden, becoming ice cold. I unconsciously shift as I pick up the dangerous shift in her body language. “Don’t make me regret this, human. I dislike killing, but if you pose a threat to my species then I will not hesitate to finish our… battle.”

…Well, I’m convinced.

“I guess I could use your help,” I say. “Is that all you figured out from that blood sample? Is there anything else?”

The girl looks distractedly to the side. “Huh? Oh, right. The vampire shouldn’t be too far from here. By the time I arrived, the man had only been dead for a few minutes.”

At this moment, something clicks in my mind.

“It could still be here,” I say.

Vampires prefer O-type blood.

Aren’t I also-

Two things slam into me at once. The girl, who I’m assuming tried to push me out of the way but was too late to do so, and the feral vampire. We go flying towards the swings in a cluster of skin, nails and hair. My head hits the metallic pole hard.

Before my trembling vision, I can briefly make out the figure of the girl as she shoves the humanoid creature off. She took the brunt of the impact and her white dress is now torn around the waist. I can see a wound that completely goes through her abdomen and out the other side - however, blood flowing from it is already beginning to stem.

I grab ahold of the ground and try to stand up, but my head isn’t having any of it. A sharp pain assaults my stomach, which I instinctively clutch at. My hand comes away red.

I lift my head up and see the girl facing off against the creature. Its hair is uncut and tangled, and its face is gaunt. The ragged garb it wears gives the impression that it hasn’t had a change of clothes since it was born.

My vision blurs, and darkness begins to creep in from the edges. I can’t feel anything – the white ground before me is already starting to darken. Is that dark colour red? I can’t tell. The world is already fading to a monochrome colour.

The last thing I see is the silver blade flaring to life in the girl’s hand.

I feel so cold.