Bloodline Reckoning

She was the innocent type.

The type who kept a photo of her kindergarten class tucked in her wallet, mascot and all, smiling in neat rows.

The type who juggled two jobs to support the ailing grandmother in the nursing home.

The type who would only love one man in her whole life and give him everything she had.

And she was walking straight into a dark alley full of vampires.

Into his territory.

Him. Obsidian. A vampire hunter.

Oh yes, society had welcomed vampires with open arms, convinced they were just like everyone else, upstanding citizens deserving of rights and protection.

Of course they were reformed, civilized, eager to live in peace and harmony. And sure, they drank a little human blood, but what was the big deal?

They swore—hand on the Bible no less—that they’d be responsible, only feeding on willing donors. And if volunteers were in short supply? That was what blood banks were for, right? No reason to be concerned at all.

But these so-called humanitarians didn’t know the truth. They had never watched their loved ones butchered before their eyes by those same “responsible” vampires.

Never stared into those shifting, inhuman eyes as they laughed over another drained, lifeless body. They didn’t know that these beasts existed for one reason only: to feed an insatiable hunger for violence.

No. They sat in their homes, murmuring over their TVs, reassuring each other that a few rotten apples shouldn’t spoil the whole bunch.

So it was up to unofficial hunters like Obsidian to track these monsters down and make sure they never tore another family apart again.

He didn’t have time for innocent girls like the one he was watching. They always got in the way. Still, they had their uses. Perfect bait to lure out bloodsuckers.

And there she was, kneeling beside an apparent beggar, her soft heart getting the better of her, completely unaware that he was no beggar at all.

But Obsidian knew better. He recognized that unnatural stillness, the coiled patience of a predator. This was no poor soul in need. It was a vampire.

The moment she looked away to dig for change, it would rise, loom over her, and drain her dry. That was when Obsidian would strike. Just before the monster’s fangs touched her soft, white skin.

It was a game he had played countless times before, a grim dance of death, and he never missed a step. The routine was burned into his bones: wait for the vampire to expose itself, let it lower its guard in the face of easy prey, then strike with brutal precision.

It had always worked. And it would work now. Obsidian tightened his grip around the silver stake. He braced himself.

There. She was reaching into her book bag, into that wallet with the name “Cougars” printed on it. And the vampire slowly uncurled to his full height. Obsidian lunged. And stopped.

The vampire’s nose flared. His sunken eyes widened ever so slightly, and his posture stiffened, not in preparation to pounce, but in something that almost looked like uncertainty.

And she looked up at him, utterly unafraid, a bright, open smile spreading across her face as she extended the money. “Here you go. I hope this helps a little bit.”

For a second, neither the girl nor the vampire moved. Then, awkwardly, the vampire took the money and plopped right back down, curling into himself as if he really was just some homeless man settling in for the night.

And the girl? She walked away, happy as a clam, humming softly under her breath, food delivery bag in hand, none the wiser.

Obsidian could do nothing but stare.

What the… fuck just happened?

No. No. No. That wasn’t how this worked. That wasn’t how any of this worked. Vampires didn’t just stop. They didn’t hesitate. They didn’t back down. Unless…

His gaze flicked between the beggar, still slumped in place and the girl walking away. Could she be carrying something? Some kind of protection? Was it her? Or was it just some bizarre fluke?

Either way, it didn’t matter. She had no idea she had just stepped into something far bigger. The real danger lurked ahead, three vampires, already watching her. Waiting.

They were the ones who had placed the fake food order, luring an unsuspecting human delivery driver straight into their trap. And they looked hungry.

Obsidian’s boots barely made a sound as he leapt to the next rooftop, every sense locked onto the unfolding scene below. His mind calculated every possible outcome, mapping out the fastest, deadliest route to take them all down before they could touch her.

The first vampire moved.

A blur of motion. Too fast. A streak of death lunging straight for her from the side.

Obsidian dropped.

The moment his boots hit the ground, he was already in motion. His blade flashed, silver slicing through the air with deadly precision. Before the vampire’s claws could so much as graze her, Obsidian drove his stake straight through its heart.

The vampire shrieked. The girl screamed.

The other vampires reacted instantly, moving to protect their comrade.

They surged forward, a frenzy of fangs and claws, their eyes gleaming with hunger and fury. Obsidian didn’t flinch. They came at him with everything they had. He cut them down with more.

A dagger to the throat.

A silver blade through the ribs.

A spinning slash that severed a hand, then pierced a heart.

Blood sprayed.

Fangs clattered to the pavement.

The night filled with guttural howls and the heavy, wet sound of bodies hitting the ground.

Dead in under five.

Obsidian flicked the blood from his blade.

And her?

She was already doubled over against the wall, retching.

He exhaled sharply, already walking away. No time for this. The night was still young, and if he wasted another second here, more souls…

“What did you do?” Her voice stopped him. It was raw, thick with horror, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she stumbled forward.

Tears streaked down her face. Her trembling hands reached for one of the fallen vampires, grasping at a lifeless, clawed hand as if clinging to some last shred of hope.

“We have to call the police,” she pleaded. “Maybe they can help them. Take them to a hospital.”

Obsidian stared. Was she serious? “They were vampires.” His voice was flat, stripped of emotion. “They were going to kill you. I was protecting you.”

“No, they weren’t!” she sobbed. “They ordered Pad Thai!”

Was she really that dumb? “They were going to suck you dry.”

“No, they weren’t!” Her shoulders shook, fresh tears slipping down her face. But it wasn’t just fear. It was raw grief, as if she were mourning someone she loved.

He grit his teeth. For the briefest moment, an image flickered through his mind. Himself, much younger, kneeling in a pool of blood, sobbing over the cold, lifeless bodies of his parents. Just like this.

His grip tightened around the hilt of his blade. He had to make her stop. Had to make her see. These were vampires. They didn’t deserve any tears. They didn’t deserve her tears.

“Here.” His voice was edged with frustration as he crouched beside one of the bodies and yanked back its lips. “Look. Fangs. Claws. They’re monsters.”

“That doesn’t prove anything,” she said.

“Didn’t you see how they surrounded you and tried to attack?”

“They got close to me to give me money for the food!”

“They were about to hold you down and suck your blood!”

“They were leaning in for a hug!”

He scowled. Fine.

Digging through their pockets and jackets, he pulled out wallets, scraps of paper, coupons, little trinkets. Human things. His movements grew more frantic as she stood there, hands covering her mouth, eyes wide.

Was he wrong? No. Impossible. His instincts were never wrong. He reached for the bag they had on them and rifled through it until his fingers brushed against something cold.

Sticky. Wet. Blood.

His pulse steadied. Slowly, he curled his hand around it and lifted it into the dim alley light. A severed human head.

He held it up, triumphant. “See? I told you so.”

She took one look and bent over again. But there was nothing left in her stomach. Only dry heaves and trembling hands.

When she finally lifted her head, her expression had changed. “I... I can’t believe it.” Her voice was hoarse. “I’m sorry I doubted you.”

She wrapped her arms around herself, as if she could hold in the shudder shaking through her body.

“Thank you,” she mumbled. “For saving my life. But still…did they really have to die?”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw it. A flicker of movement in the shadows. It was the first vampire, the one who had let her go. Obsidian’s pulse spiked. He was running. Scrambling away. Stumbling over himself in his haste to escape.

A cold sweat slid down Obsidian’s neck. He had let one get away. While he stood there, proving some pointless, meaningless point to her, he let one get away.

His body moved before his mind could catch up. He ran. Adrenaline surged through his veins, fueling every step, pushing him faster.

His boots pounded the pavement as he tore through the alleys, weaving between dumpsters, slipping past crumbling walls. His breath came sharp and steady.

The vampire was fast. Too fast. Obsidian pushed harder, his muscles burning, his focus razor-sharp. But it wasn’t enough. The vampire was already too far ahead.

Obsidian skidded to a stop, panting, his eyes scanning every dark corner, every possible escape route.

Nothing.

Shit.

His hand curled into a fist. The vampire had seen him. Seen him talking to her. Seen him saving her. Now they would connect the two.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

He never made mistakes like this. Never.

And why?

Because of her.

Because he had stopped to talk to her. Because he had wasted precious time convincing her, when he should have been killing.

What was it about her that made him stop in his tracks? His jaw clenched. No time for questions. He needed a plan.

He turned back, eyes sweeping the alley for anything, some sign, some clue the vampires might have dropped.

And to his surprise, she was still there. Wandering aimlessly, dazed, her steps slow and unfocused.

His irritation flared. “What are you doing? Go home.”

She blinked at him, like she had just remembered he existed. “But I haven’t made my delivery yet,” she said.

Seriously? Obsidian exhaled sharply and pinched the bridge of his nose.

And that was when he really looked at her. Blonde hair. Big, pretty eyes. Long lashes still wet with tears. She looked like a doll. A fragile, delicate thing.

The perfect target for a bloodthirsty vampire.

He should walk away. Let her fend for herself. He didn’t have time for this. But something inside him, the same reckless, irritating part that had made him stop in the first place, whispered that he should stay.

He sighed. “Give me the food.”

She sniffled and handed it over without protest, still lost in a haze of shock.

Obsidian grabbed her wrist and led her away from the alley. Away from the danger she was too naïve to recognize.

They ended up in the nearest public park, the streetlights casting a dim glow over the empty benches and quiet paths. He sat down and tugged her down beside him.

For a long moment, she just sat there, staring at nothing, lost in whatever nightmare the night had become for her. Obsidian exhaled.

“They’ll be watching you now.”

He tore open the delivery bag, split the food between two plates, and shoved one toward her.

She blinked, then bowed her head slightly in thanks. “They?”

“The vampires.” He stabbed his fork into the now cold noodles and took a bite.

She hesitated. “Why?”

He sighed, already regretting this entire mess. “Because they think you and I are together. They might use you to get to me.”

“But why?” She said.

Obsidian exhaled again. Did she really need everything chewed up for her?

“Vampires are bad,” he said. “They kill. They’re bloodthirsty.”

“That’s not what everyone else says.” She said. “The news, the government, the peace treaties prove they’re just like us. They just need blood to survive.”

“Don’t believe everything you hear.” He said.

“Why are they bad?”

“Because they’re born that way.”

“Are they all bad?”

“Only if I kill them.” He said.

She stopped. “But that doesn’t make any sense.”

“Makes perfect sense to me.”

She opened her mouth, probably to argue again, but he cut her off. “You gonna eat that?” He nodded toward her still-full plate.

She shook her head and handed it over.

“Thanks.”

He polished it off in a few bites, barely tasting it. She, on the other hand, was still staring at him like some puzzle she was trying to piece together.

“I’m a vampire hunter. I know.”

“How do you even become a vampire hunter?” she said.

“By not asking so many annoying questions.”

Her lips parted, but before she could get another word in, he leaned forward slightly, gaze sharp. “Aren’t you afraid of me, after what you just saw?”

She blinked. “No.” That answer came too fast. Too certain. She tilted her head, studying him like he was the strange one. “You saved my life.”

Of course. “Well, you need to go home. Quit this delivery job. You shouldn’t be out in the streets at night ever again.”

“But I need this job. It helps me pay for my grandmother’s nursing home.”

“Then get a job in the middle of the day.”

“I’m a teacher in the middle of the day.”

Obsidian groaned, rubbing his temples. Of course she was. She was exactly the kind of person who would juggle two jobs just to take care of someone else.

The type who carried a picture of her kindergarten class in her wallet. The type who smiled at a vampire and handed him money instead of running for her life.The type that got eaten.

He leveled her with a hard stare. “Beware of vampires. Especially now that they’ve seen your face.”

She glanced around, suddenly wary, as if it had just occurred to her. “So… isn’t it dangerous for us to be sitting here?”

“Doesn’t matter anymore. Go home. Now. Be aware.”

She chewed on her lip, considering that, before finally standing. “Thank you again.”

Obsidian leaned back on the bench, watching her walk away, his eyes lingering just a second too long.

Pretty girl.

Stupid girl.

He should forget about her.

He knew he wouldn’t.