Even Darius’ threat wasn’t enough to dampen Ben’s mood for more than a few minutes. His evening at the castle with Grace had sent him soaring above the clouds. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt such ecstasy. That ecstasy was dampened the following evening when his doorbell rang and Ben met Maidstone’s newest vampire.

Ben pulled open the door to see a stern-faced middle-aged man standing on the step. He had his hands clasped behind his back and his mouth stretched into a grim line. Ben had never displeased a person simply by answering the door before.

“Can I help you?” Ben asked. Something about the man’s chilly demeanour made Ben wish that Rik had not gone out on one of his “research evenings”.

“No, I’m here to help you,” he said curtly. “Darius sent me to begin your training.”

“What training?”

“Combat.” He raised his foot as if to enter the apartment and then stopped. “I sense magic on this building. Come outside to begin your training.” Every word he spoke was flat and emotionless just like his plain, wrinkled face. He took several steps back to allow Ben the space to exit the apartment.

Ben laughed, refusing to move. “Are you serious? I don’t even know your name or anything about you.”

“I’m Finan. Darius sent me. And I’m bored. That’s all you need to know. Now come outside to begin your training.”

Prickly annoyance consumed the amused smile that had been on Ben’s lips. Being pushed around by Darius was one thing, but having his minions turn up at Ben’s apartment and boss him around was not something Ben was going to tolerate. “Listen, Finan—”

“No. You listen. I’ve been sent here to do a job. I am going to do that job. You can step outside and begin your first lesson willingly, or I can set the adjoining apartment on fire and see how those spells hold up against the flames. I’ll give you to the count of five.”

Finan began counting with barely a breath after his sentence. Ben could tell with a single glance that the gnarly old vampire was not bluffing. On the count of four Ben stepped outside.

Finan strode across the boardwalk that stood outside the apartments until he was standing in the centre. “Attack me,” Finan said. He stood with his hands behind his back as casually as a man on a summer stroll.

Ben did not need to be told twice. He strode forward and swung a fist. Finan’s speed made it difficult to make out exactly what happened but somehow Ben found himself flat on his back on the wooden boardwalk, staring up at the black sky and wondering how he got there.

“Pathetic.” Finan took three strides back. “Again.”

Ben pushed up to his feet and regarded Finan. The older vampire was standing just as nonchalantly as he had been before. Throwing another punch would be pointless, he’d already countered it once. Ben had to be smarter. He had to be slyer.

He had no physical advantage over Finan, quite the opposite in fact. Looking around he could see nothing in their surroundings that would help him out. Even if there was something he could use he didn’t have the speed to utilise it before Finan stopped him. He did have a silver knife tucked in his boot but there was no way he was going to be able to get it out without being seen. Not unless he was very sneaky.

“We’re out in the open. What if somebody sees us?”

“What of it?” Finan said blandly.

“You don’t see how that could be a problem?”

“It’s very dark. Everybody is hidden behind their curtains watching their television sets and making the most of the little time they have before they must return to their depressing jobs. Not a single one of them is remotely interested in what we are doing. Even if they did see us they’d simply close the curtains and pretend they had not. Nobody in this day and age wants to get involved.”

“And what if they do?”

He shrugged. “We’re two men training. We’re doing nothing illegal.”

“They could catch our speed on camera. It would be all over Instagram before the sun came up,” said Ben.

Finan blinked slowly, completely indifferent. “Half of the people who saw it would believe it. The other half would denounce it as being fabricated. Neither half would do anything about it besides argue. The internet is a place for hollow gestures, making complaints, watching pornography, and looking at cats. It is not a place where anything gets done. Attack me again.”

He charged at Finan again, this time with both hands outstretched to try and grab him by the arms and pin them to his side. Finan stepped deftly to the side and as Ben went right by him, Finan kicked his legs from under him. Ben slammed into the boardwalk and rolled away from the older vampire.

As he rolled he raised his ankle and prised the knife free, hiding it against his forearm. Silver was the only advantage he had against Finan. It was his only shot.

He didn’t run at Finan straight away. He circled his teacher slowly, trying to ascertain the best way to strike. Finan turned with Ben, regarding him coolly with an ever-unchanging expression. Ben pounced. At the last moment he produced the blade but once again he was unsuccessful.

Finan caught his wrist, stopping the knife a good few inches from his chest. With one twist Ben’s wrist cracked and the knife fell from his grip. Teeth ground, Ben growled in pain, refusing to scream. Finan slammed his free hand into Ben’s chest and sent him down to the boardwalk for the third time.

Ben clutched his throbbing wrist as his bones clicked painfully back into place.

“A vampire who wields silver. Fascinating,” Finan said. He kicked the knife with enough to force to send it flying across the boardwalk and over the edge to the car park below. “Again.”

For the next two hours Ben was thrown to the ground in more ways than he could count. His skin bruised and his bones broke only to heal and be bruised and broken all over again.

Eventually Finan grew bored of Ben. “I’ll be back tomorrow night,” he said before turning and walking away without another word.

Every night he arrived at seven pm on the dot. They trained for two hours and then Finan left. Some nights he told Ben to attack him, some nights he attacked Ben. On all nights Ben got beaten up and tossed around for two hours straight. Sometimes Finan ceased the beatings to teach Ben moves and techniques, but no matter what Ben learned his speed and strength were never enough to best his teacher.

“Your strength and your speed will increase with age. If you wish to accelerate their growth you must do as Darius instructed and create a progeny,” Finan told him, revealing that Darius had told him that Ben was a progenitor. Clearly Finan was well-trusted by Darius.

“I’m working on it,” Ben muttered. Turning somebody into a vampire was no small thing and he was not going to rush into it. He was being very selective about who he chose to turn; thus far, nobody had met his criteria.

The weeks that followed were filled with agonising training and amorous encounters. Most of his time was spent with Grace, everything else that had been important paled in significance to his new obsession.

Each night he woke up to a text from her and then most nights they’d spend the evening together — after training of course. On those evenings that she was not available he would go about searching for an ideal candidate to join his vampire ranks. His night would always end with a final text as he went to bed and she got up to begin her day.

Rik had grown accustomed to seeing Grace around the apartment. Despite his exit from the Coven there didn’t seem to be any animosity between them, not that they either exchanged so much as a hello. Grace wasn’t the sort to hold grudges. She was always thinking about the future. Ben wished that he could let go of the past like she could but instead every little slight was stashed away in his head so he could brood over it at a later date. Grace seemed to forget about an insult the moment she stopped looking at the person who’d given it.

Ben’s bones cracked as he stretched his arms across the bed and let out a loud and satisfied sigh. Grace, who was retrieving her clothing from his bedroom floor, looked back at him and smiled in the way she did when she was lost in her own thoughts. She never told him what she was thinking when she looked at him like that but he knew she was thinking about him. He knew because he looked at her in the same way often enough.

Her smile was short-lived and slipped away as she turned and began stepping into her underwear. She did a little wiggle as she slid them over her rump. Ben usually enjoyed the wiggle but tonight he was distracted by the shadow that had fallen over her.

“What’s up?” he asked. He sat up in bed and pulled the duvet over his groin. Even though she’d seen him naked numerous times something about sitting around with it all hanging out just felt weird.

Grace, on the other hand, had no such qualms. She sat on the edge of her bed to put her socks on, not at all concerned by the nakedness of her top half. Ben had no complaints there.

“Nothing. I’m just looking for my clothes,” she said, but her tone was too flat to be convincing.

“Grace, you know every emotion you feel is always plastered on your face, so you might as well tell me what’s bothering you.” She always tried to mask her feelings but in doing so only managed to highlight them.

“My emotions are not plastered on my face!” she argued and threw her sock in Ben’s face. It landed on his nose and draped down only barely missing his lips.

He plucked the sock up and tossed it back at her. “Thank you for that.”

She caught the garment and yanked it roughly over her foot. “You deserved it.”

“I’m not sure I did. What’s on your mind?”

Her head slumped and she stopped getting dressed. Only when she refused to look at him did Ben realise it was worse than he’d initially suspected. He’d thought she was worrying over some trivial matter like her car failing its MOT or something. Now he started to believe that it was something he was going to wish he hadn’t asked about.

“There’s a meeting tonight.” She yanked her jeans up off the floor and stopped, draping them over her legs like a blanket. “With the Ringles.”

Her words sucked the air out of the room and all sound vanished for a brief moment whilst every possible negative outcome associated with what she’d just said flooded to the forefront of Ben’s mind. With everything that had been going on between Ben and Grace, he’d assumed that the Ringles were now out of the picture. That Kieron was out of the picture.

“What’s the meeting for?” His voice was strangled and afraid.

Grace turned even further away so Ben could only see the back of her head. “We’re merging our covens now so we’re going over the terms of that.”

She might as well have slapped Ben in the face because that’s what her words felt like. In his stunned silence, Grace stood up and wiggled into her jeans.

“That’s still happening?” he asked at last.

“Yeah.”

“I thought things might have changed.”

Her head was bowed, eyes glued to the floor. “I don’t know.”

A prickle of anger stabbed at Ben. “What do you mean you don’t know?”

“I mean I don’t know!” She snapped. She grabbed her bra and then tossed it onto the bed before pulling on her t-shirt without it.

“I don’t understand. The last couple of weeks…” Ben planted his palms into the mattress to steady himself. He’d never imagined that such an admission could rattle him so badly. “Am I not as good as Kieron or something?”

Her head whipped around, eyes red-rimmed and livid. “Of course you are! Do you think it's easy to sit there in those meetings knowing that what we have is probably going to have to end? You mean everything to me, Ben. You’re so stupidly handsome, and hilarious. I smile every time I see your stupid name pop up on my phone.”

“But?” he asked, knowing one was coming. A string of compliments only ever preceded bad news.

Her whole body slumped like somebody who’d been carrying too much weight for far too long. “But my coven is counting on me.”

“Wait, does this mean that this whole time you’ve still been seeing Kieron?”

Pink crept up her cheeks. Anger and sadness were joined by shame. “I didn’t ask you to chaperone because it would have been awkward.”

“Oh, wow.” Ben climbed out of bed on the opposite side, his hands on his head, fingers entwined in his hair. He no longer cared about his nakedness, he didn’t even notice it.

“Ben…”

“Does he know?”

Her answer was silence. Silence and shame.

Ben scoffed and dropped his hands to his sides. “What a way to start a marriage.”

“I don’t know if I’m going to marry him!” she snapped back.

“It seems like you are to me considering you’re meeting tonight to hash out the terms.”

“I haven’t decided. I need time.”

“Fine.” Ben whipped up his boxer shorts in the blink of an eye and pulled them on in sharp, vicious movements. “Come back when you’ve made a decision.”

He hoped that she would say something to persuade him it wasn't as bad as it seemed. He hoped she’d say anything to make him feel just a little bit better. Instead she grabbed her keys and her phone and walked out of the room without even looking back.

Shaking with a whirlwind of anger, hurt, and fear, Ben sat down on the edge of the bed and tried to hold back his tears.

Ben sat on his bed staring at his phone, hoping that Grace would text. The minutes dragged on and his phone screen remained as black as the pit that had opened beneath his heart. After over an hour had passed Ben finally got dressed and went to find Rik in the living room.

The warlock was sitting on the floor surrounded by stacks of papers and open books. In front of him he had a notebook and was scribbling like a madman, occasionally raising his head to check one of his other books or notes before diving back in. Ben had never seen anybody work with such fervour.

“Am I the only one who thinks this place is getting a bit cramped?” Ben said as he stepped over a scattering of books and made his way to the sofa.

“What’s got you in such a querulous mood?” Rik asked without looking up.

Ben didn’t bother answering the question; he didn’t want to bring up the depressing incident. Maybe if he didn’t mention or think about it then it would just stop existing. “I want to finish off the loculum recro tonight. The coffin is built, I’ve found a place, and we’ve got all the gemstones we need. I need that backup in case Darius decides to kill me.”

“Maybe if you spent less time cavorting with the enemy and more time doing as he said you wouldn’t feel the need for such protections. Need I remind you, that you would be the one he’d kill last anyway. It’s myself and Izzy you should be more concerned with.”

Ben clenched his fist on the seat of the sofa, struggling to keep a grip on his temper. Rik was right and Ben knew it, but he didn’t need to be reminded. What he needed was a distraction to stop him from sitting around and staring at his phone. “Are you trying to piss me off?”

His tone caught Rik’s attention and the warlock looked up, brow furrowed in concern. “What’s happened?”

Ben’s anger dissipated and he uncurled his fist. “Nothing. I just want to finish the coffin tonight.”

Rik nodded, accepting that Ben was not going to share the wretched memory of what had happened upstairs with Grace. “Let’s do it then. I still think you should have prioritised making new vampires since that’s the only thing that will keep us all secure from Darius.”

Ben knew he was right but that didn’t change things. “I haven’t found anybody I like. This is the first vampire I’m ever going to create, they have to be perfect.” He wasn’t counting the vampire Theo had forced him to create. The same vampire Theo had murdered the moment the transition was completed. She had not been Ben’s choice and she had not survived more than half an hour, therefore she did not exist in the annals of Ben’s bloodline.

“You overthink things,” Rik said, clueless of the memory that he evoked in Ben’s mind. The night at Allington Castle when Grace had told him to stop overthinking everything. The night they’d first shared a bed. Ben shoved the memory aside.

“I’m going to be giving this person immortality. I think a little overthinking is okay.”

“Well, Darius could rock up any day now so if you don’t pick somebody after we’ve done the loculum recro I’m taking the decision out of your hands.”

Ben raised an eyebrow at his friend the silent gesture saying everything.

“Look at me all you like but it’s my life you’re endangering with this feet-dragging.”

“I’ll pick someone,” Ben mumbled noncommittally before heading out the door.

Ben “borrowed” a van from a neighbour and then off they went to pick up the coffin from the shop. They had nothing to secure it with which meant Ben had to sit in the back of the van and stop the coffin from sliding around all over the place while Rik drove them to the location. Had Ben anticipated this he would have stolen a hearse instead. What made the entire situation worse was Rik’s horrendous driving, he kept stalling and he was incapable of maintaining a steady speed.

Ben had chosen a small recreational field that was hidden away behind some allotments. There was a footpath that led through to the field but it was closed pending construction work. Somebody had recently purchased the field and was going to build a big old block of flats on the site.

“What a lovely location,” Rik said. He looked around at the ramshackle allotment on one side and the expanse of trees on the other. The waxing moon hung in the sky like a thin smile. It seemed almost mocking.

“It’s secluded. That’s all that matters.” Ben grabbed hold of the empty coffin and hauled it out of the van. He’d only been a vampire for a short while so the little things like being able to lift such a bulky object with ease brought a small smile to his face. A smile that faded when he thought about what he was preparing to do.

Rik reached into the van and pulled out a shiny new shovel that Ben had picked up from the store just a week ago. “Here you go,” Rik said, chucking the garden tool at him. It still had the price tag attached to the handle.

Super-strength or not, digging a six-foot hole was a tedious task. According to the instructions, Rik was not allowed to lift a finger to help him and so Ben toiled away by himself. In the light cast by the van’s headlights, he heaved shovel fulls of dirt out of the ground and dumped it into the coffin. Once the coffin was filled a third of the way he began piling the dirt next to the grave. By the time he was done he was a muddy, sweaty mess.

“I wish I’d brought a change of clothes,” Ben said as he tried to wipe off as much of the dirt as possible.

“Oh dear, look at the state of you,” Rik said, glancing up and down Ben’s dishevelled appearance.

“Enjoy it while you can. You realise that you’re going to have to bury me and dig me back up. Let’s see how swanky you look after.” Ben grabbed a bottle of water from the back of the van and gulped it down greedily.

“Unlike you, I can use magic. So for me it will be as easy uttering a few words.” Rik winked and Ben had to fight the magnetic urge to throw the water bottle at him.

As Rik made his way to the coffin Ben eyed him jealously. This was the most physical labour he’d done in years. Even his job as a hospital cleaner hadn’t been this taxing. He had a newfound respect for gravediggers, although they probably used diggers these days. At least he wouldn’t end up with hands covered in blisters and calluses.

Rik pulled the gemstones out of his pocket and began burying them beneath the dirt in the coffin. Small stones that were almost perfectly clear vanished into the coffin. Then he produced a handful of green stones and they too vanished into the dirt.

“Are you sure that’s enough?” Ben asked. He’d envisioned there being a lot more.

“Yes, Ben,” he said with a sigh. “I studied the literature vigilantly.” Ben still had doubts about putting so much trust in a person he’d known for less than a couple of months, but he didn’t have another option. Not unless he wanted to abandon the plan completely. Besides, as Rik had said many times, it wasn’t like being buried alive could actually kill him. He reminded himself over and over that Rik gained nothing from leaving Ben buried.

The metal railings of the coffin glinted devilishly in the yellow light from the van. Rik laced his fingers together and cracked his knuckles. Then he started to chant.

For once Ben tried to focus on the words but he could make no sense of anything Rik was saying. It sounded kind of Latin but he was pretty sure it wasn’t. If he hadn’t seen the language produce results in the past he would have thought it was made up entirely.

“Nummori semptetur loculum recro. Implam impestate imvampir damtatem.” Again and again he repeated the nonsense words and soon the coffin began to shake, shifting the dirt within. Ben took this as a sign of the spell working and his heartbeat started to rise with excitement. Tiny hints of light shone out from beneath the dirt and Ben stepped closer to get a better look.

The air crackled with the magic that Rik unleashed and Ben felt the hairs on his arms standing up on end. The coffin lid slammed shut and Ben flinched back. Rik was unsurprised. He placed his palm flat on the top of the coffin and repeated the words one final time. The air cleared and everything was still.

“It’s done,” Rik said in a whisper.

His words killed the flicker of joy that Ben had felt. Now it was time for the hardest part. Now he was going to be buried alive.

They each took an end of the coffin, which was far heavier now that it was full of dirt, and dropped it into the hole.

“Here,” said Rik as he rolled up the sleeve of his cardigan.

“What?”

“You’ll need a little something to see you through. Just resist the temptation to be a greedy slut, unlike last time.”

“Thank you,” Ben said, ignoring the insult. He bit into Rik’s wrist and devoured the deliciously sweet, magic-infused blood that poured into his mouth. Nothing compared to the blood of a warlock. Nothing compared to the power it granted. Ben pulled away before he took too much and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Rik pressed his free hand over his little wound.

“Does it hurt?” Ben asked.

The warlock shook his head and then gestured to the coffin. “Your chariot awaits.”

Worries and concerns raced to Ben’s mind. Anything to get him out of what he was about to do. “You won’t fall asleep and leave me unguarded?”

“I’ve concocted a special brew to keep me awake for the full vigil. Don't worry, Ben, this time tomorrow night you’ll be back on top of the soil and twice as hard to kill.”

Ben nodded and climbed down into the coffin. The dirt was soft but not in a comfortable way. It was like sitting on damp cat litter. He shifted around in the dirt to try to make it more comfortable, but it was a fruitless endeavour; he was about to have a very unpleasant twenty-four hours.

“Ready?” Rik asked.

Ben wasn’t ready. He’d never be ready. He looked up at his friend, fighting the urge to make him promise, to swear on everything he held dear, that he would not leave Ben beneath the dirt. But he didn’t want to look scared, so he said nothing. Rik had no reason to leave him buried. In fact, if he did leave Ben beneath the earth then Darius would slaughter him when he returned.

Ben had had his tonsils removed when he was a teenager. It was only as he was being taken into surgery that he considered that he might die on the table if something went wrong. His parents were the only people who knew that he was having an operation. He hadn’t told any of his friends and as he was being wheeled into the operating theatre, he’d started to regret not saying something to them before he went into the hospital. The people who were dear to him would never how much he cared for them. Now he started to feel that pinching regret once again.

He pulled out his phone and unlocked it. He opened his message thread with Izzy but stopped typing after only a few words. She’d left town to get away from all the vampire business, if he told her what he was about to do she might come back to make sure he was okay. If she came back she could get caught in the crossfire. Wherever she was she was safe. He would not jeopardise that.

He pulled up Grace’s thread instead. His thumbs hovered above the screen, unsure what to say. She was at a meeting with her probable future husband. A text from the guy she’d been sleeping with saying he was about to bury himself alive would look like nothing less than a cry for sympathy and attention; a pathetic ploy to make her pick him over Kieron. He couldn’t text her either.

Instead he pulled up the clock app and set a timer for twenty-four hours. Then he gave Rik a single nod before lying down in the dirt-filled coffin.

“See you on the other side,” Rik said. Then he closed the lid.

🦇 🦇 🦇

Izzy felt ridiculous sitting in the car with weapons strapped all over her combat clothing. Despite not wearing any combat gear himself, Gideon had insisted that Izzy dress in the apparel. The clothing was lightweight but the padded fabric felt strange and having weapons stashed all over her was just peculiar. She felt like a mule.

“I don’t need so many weapons and nor do I need the protective padding. I’ve got my enhancements,” Gideon said, referring to his durability, increased strength, and the ability to blend in with the shadows and move things with his mind. He had other powers too but he refused to reveal what they were.

“If I had powers then I wouldn’t need to dress like this either,” Izzy retorted.

“They are called enhancements, not powers. And as I said, only once you’re an officially recognised apprentice will the Order grant you enhancements.”

Other than holding an arsenal of weapons, Izzy’s body sported bruises of varying sizes and colours. Just about every muscle ached, even muscles she didn’t know existed until she’d started training. For about two weeks her days had been filled with combat lessons which mainly consisted of her getting tossed around like an old bag by the expert hunter. Her nights were spent watching vampires, learning their habits, and looking out for evidence of wrongdoing. If she was lucky she managed to squeeze in a few hours sleep. The lack of sleep seemed to have no effect on Gideon, but Izzy was a different matter. She dragged herself through the days until Gideon gave her some special tea to wake her up. He claimed not to drink the stuff himself, but she suspected that he consumed the tea in secret and then pretended he didn’t need sleep, but she couldn’t prove it.

Izzy had not been allowed to fight the first vampire. Gideon had let her accompany him but she’d been forced to stand and watch as he dispatched of the monster. Izzy had wanted to at least get a good kick in after she’d watched him murder an old lady who was out walking her dog.

That was the worst part of the job; in order to kill the vampire, she first had to wait for him to do something wrong. That meant letting an innocent person die.

“No good is ever achieved without sacrifice,” Gideon had said at the time.

His words were hollow to Izzy’s ears. Although she had warmed slightly to the old hunter, she always remembered that he was only here to kill her friend. Several times he had tried to bring Ben into conversation whilst they’d been training. His attempts at digging for information were brutish at best and had resulted in a rule that Ben should not be mentioned until they returned to Maidstone.

The second vampire, Izzy had been allowed to fight. She’d managed to get a good few hits in but ultimately, the vampire’s speed was too much of an advantage.

“Handicap the fiends with silver right off the bat and they won’t be speeding anywhere,” Gideon had said after he’d turned the vampire into a pile of bones.

Now, they were on the third vampire. A dirty looking man named Jack. He slunk around the town like a common thief, avoiding people’s gazes, and preying on the homeless. Unlike Ben, he did not stop once he’d had his fill, he seemed to delight in draining his victims. At least he had delighted in draining the one Izzy had watched him kill. That had been yesterday. Now it was time to meter out justice, as Gideon had said.

Jack slipped through an overgrown garden into the derelict house behind it. He really was living like a fully-fledged parasite.

“I’ll let you handle this one,” Gideon said.

“What?” Izzy’s voice jumped up an octave.

“Let’s see what you can do.”

“What I can do? The last time I fought a vampire I nearly died.”

“Every time you fight a vampire you will nearly die. It’s the nearly that’s important. In order for me to know what direction to take your training in next I need to see how much you’ve learned. I’m throwing you in at the deep end.”

“I don’t think I’m ready for this.” She wanted to be a part of the fight but she didn’t want to handle it solo. It had taken her long enough to be able to stop herself from shuddering whenever she came close to a vampire. The memory of Theo in the graveyard always came back to her. Those memories might not haunt her as much as they had a couple of weeks ago but she was far from fearless, and she was a long way away from being ready.

“You don’t have the luxury of waiting to be ready. You can either go in that house or we go back to Maidstone. Your choice little lass.” Gideon eyeballed her with a stony gaze and she knew that he was not bluffing.

Izzy began recalling her lessons to make sure she was as prepared as possible. She lifted her arm and checked the band of silver on her wrist.

“What are you doing?” Gideon asked. Like any teacher, he made her talk him through her actions from time to time.

“I’m checking that my silver bracelet is secured around my wrist. Silver when worn protects against mesmerisation and it can be used as a weapon if the vampire gets too close.”

“Good.”

“Now, I’m checking the weapons that I have on my person.” Izzy patted each weapon that she carried to make sure it was present and secure. The stake at her hip, the silver dagger holstered at her back, another dagger inside her right boot, one thin stake attached to her right wrist, and a silver nitrate spray attached to her left wrist. The fingerless gloves she wore were studded with little silver spikes too, just in case it came down to throwing fists.

“Are you ready to go?”

Izzy reached for the door handle and stopped. “Not yet.” She pulled out her phone and made sure her GPS location was on. “I’m making sure my location is on in case I get taken.”

Gideon gave a confirmatory nod. “Go get the scumbag, kid.”

Izzy pushed open the door and jumped outside. The cool air hit her, but it was starting to get warmer. Spring was on the way. When it got hotter she’d need less clothing and then hiding all these weapons would be more difficult. Being a hunter in the summer must be hellish. But then she didn’t really want to be a hunter. She only wanted to learn the skills to defend herself.

The short walk to the house wasn’t long enough. Izzy needed more time to mentally prepare for what she was about to do. She needed more time to physically prepare for what she was about to do. Fighting a vampire was one thing, fighting one alone was above and beyond her capabilities.

Her rubber-soled boots moved soundlessly over the garden path, they really were stealthier than they looked. She thought that she’d need to pick the lock when she reached the front door but she found the lock was broken and the door ajar. Jack was a terribly careless vampire. She’d known people back in school who would have seen a derelict house like this and used it as a hangout, a place to drink cheap cider they’d convinced an adult to buy from the local shop. It was a stroke of luck that no local teenagers had stumbled across this vampire’s lair.

Izzy touched her fingertips lightly against the rough wood of the door and eased it open. It creaked traitorously but the sound was low enough that it could be mistaken for nothing more than the wind.

Izzy was not prepared for the heavy stench that she stepped into. She slapped a hand to her mouth to stop herself from gagging. It was like the house had been filled from floor to ceiling with rotten eggs. When she stepped carefully into the hallway the stench only got worse. Toward the end of her life, Izzy’s Gran had started to forget more things than she remembered. Every night she would take a piece of frozen chicken out of the freezer and leave it to defrost on the bottom shelf of the fridge. Towards the end she kept forgetting she’d left the chicken in the fridge and it slowly started to decompose. It was only when Izzy removed the chicken from the cool environment that the full stench of rot hit her. This house smelled like the very walls had been built with that same rotten chicken.

When Izzy passed the living room she understood why. It seemed that some teenagers had stumbled across the open house after all. Unfortunately, they had not had quite as good a time as they’d planned. Several wasted bodies, some of them in school uniforms, had been left to rot in the living room. From the haphazard ways they lay it was obvious that Jack had simply tossed them into the room having finished with them and never given them a second thought.

What puzzled Izzy the most was how the vampire could stand the stench. Ben had told her that his olfactory sense had improved since turning into a vampire. Izzy couldn’t bear the smell with a human nose so for a vampire it must have been insufferable.

“I’m a bit of a slob.”

Izzy wheeled around, bringing her arm up, but she was far too slow. Jack’s hand cracked her across the jaw and she plummeted into the living room, falling into the sea of death. She screamed more in horror than in pain as she fell in among the corpses. Something squishy burst beneath her elbow and putrid fluid leaked out.

She barely had time to retch. Jack lunged across the room, fangs exposed. Izzy raised her fist and his face fell onto the silver spikes that lined her knuckles. The vampire jumped back with a shriek, the flesh on his face sizzling.

Forcing herself to ignore her surroundings, Izzy jumped back to her feet. She could still feel the gunky stuff that was all over her elbow. No amount of showers would ever make her feel clean.

“Bitch,” said Jack. He rushed at her again. This time she was more prepared. She swung up her left arm and whacked the device under her sleeve with her other hand. She felt like Spiderman when she saw the stream of silver nitrate fly from her wrist and soak Jack’s face.

The vampire shrieked like a person in need of an exorcist as he fled away from her again. Izzy remembered Gideon’s lessons.

Never give them time to recover.

Heart hammering, she pulled out the stake from her waist and ran at him.

Aim at the heart and use all your strength. If you miss the first shot you’re unlikely to get a second.

Jack moved at the very last second and the stake found his shoulder instead of his chest. She didn’t even manage to drive it in that deep. Her strength was not sufficient and staking vampires was not as easy as it looked on TV. She needed more strength training.

Jack lashed out and the back of his hand sent Izzy stumbling back into the makeshift mortuary. She reached out for anything to stop her from falling and her fingers closed around the moth-eaten curtain. Her heart dropped when she heard it rip and she plummeted down to the ground. Landing on the exposed wood floor was a relief compared to landing on decaying bodies. She rolled onto her front and ran a hand quickly over her forehead to shift the dark hairs that had fallen over her eyes.

“Why are you attacking me?” Jack asked. He was standing in the doorway, his face a dripping pink mess.

Izzy was on her knees, staring up at him in unmasked surprise. “Seriously?” She pointed at the carpet of bodies.

“It’s not my fault. I didn’t choose to be a vampire.” His voice was hushed and filled with what sounded an awful lot like remorse. “I was attacked in my own home. Turned into this…monstrosity. I have to drink blood. I need to. I can’t not do it. But I can’t control it. Not yet. I’m still learning. Do you think I wanted to kill any of those people? I’m not in control. Do you know how I feel every time I hear their heart beat its last bit of life?” Izzy’s sternness broke. She stared up at the vampire and tried to figure out if he was telling the truth, she certainly didn’t want to condemn a man who was merely a victim of his own nature to death. Then she remembered watching him drain his victims with an expression that was far too close to glee.

That moment of hesitation was exactly what Jack wanted. His black pupils expanded to fill his eyes and he bared long, vicious fangs. Silver whistled through the air and Gideon’s axe sliced off his head in one swipe. Jack’s body fell like a log to join the others.

“I didn’t think you’d be stupid enough to fall for a sob story,” Gideon growled. His eyes passed over the room, taking in every single corpse left on display. Izzy got the message; all the evidence that contradicted Jack’s version of events was right there before her eyes.

“I didn’t fall for it.” She pushed herself to her feet being careful not to touch any corpse juice.

“That moment’s hesitation was all he needed. That’s all any of them ever need.”

“They’re too strong and fast for me. Without enhancements I’m powerless.”

“There are plenty of hunters who don’t have enhancements and they manage just fine. You need to train harder. Level the playing field.”

Izzy spread her arms wide. “I’m covered in silver and have more weapons on me than the local police have. What more can I do to level the playing field?”

“You can hunt them in the day when they’re weak.”

“You didn’t tell me that was an option.”

“You didn’t ask. This was your test. How do you think it went?” Gideon asked.

She dipped her head, no words were needed.

“You need to wise up. You just failed your first assignment.” He turned and left her to dwell on her failure.