Chapter 1
With a gasp, the vampire rose from the silk-lined depths of her daily chamber—though, in truth, it was no mere resting place, but an entrapment of souls, a coffin. Each night, vampires awaken as though startled from a shock, a surge so intense it might jolt the dead to life. They gasp, releasing a breath they didn’t realise they held, only to remember that nothing can truly shock them; it is merely the end of another silent, dreamless slumber. Yet, though they now find themselves bound to these nightly confinements, once, long ago, they too had lived as mortals.
Marie-Elise, the vampire, traced her gaze along the elegant curves embossed upon her chamber ceiling, a piece of craftsmanship she secretly admired. But tonight, admiration gave way to a darker instinct. She sensed a presence—human, close by. In all her years of death, no human had dared set foot in her mansion. Whenever she had killed, it was always far from this place, her refuge. Unlike others of her kind, she bore a peculiar regard for human wellbeing, considering them as more than mere prey. But this presence was different, tainted with a subtle malice. With sudden resolve, she rose—not like the living, but with an unnatural swiftness, gliding from her coffin into a crouched position behind her door.
She was no stranger to vampire hunters. Once, in her early years, she’d faced one. That hunter hadn’t come close to ending her existence, and his life had swiftly become a mere memory, one among many. Still, caution was a habit she had honed to a lethal edge.
A boy moved stealthily across the mansion’s richly adorned landing. His steps were light, practised, as though he carried himself with what he thought of as the “grace of a cat.” He had trained to be inconspicuous, to blend into the shadows. Marie-Elise, attuned to his mind, caught the edge of his thought and allowed herself a soft, silent laugh, amused. To her, he was the loudest noise on the street. She could admit he was quieter than most humans, but he was still as noticeable as the sun in the night sky to her heightened senses.
The boy’s ears pricked up; he’d heard something—a faint laugh, almost inaudible. He was certain of it. Silently, he followed the sound. Ahead, one door stood apart from the others: unpainted, unvarnished, as if it didn’t belong to this opulent mansion at all. He knew that behind this door lay something otherworldly, perhaps even the undead being he’d come for. His suspicions had grown from investigating mysterious deaths throughout the area, each clue leading him to this house. He crept toward the door, his hand reaching for the tarnished knob.
He had no illusions; if he were to survive, he would need to rely on the element of surprise. No mortal strength alone could best these creatures. In one swift, decisive motion, he thrust himself through the door, brandishing a delicately carved wooden stake in one hand and a blazing torch in the other. He faced the vampire, prepared for the deadly confrontation.
