***

Zea didn’t need a guide. She had already studied up on the area while Peter slept yesterday, but she wanted him out of the way. As much as she appreciates his enthusiasm, he would only get in the way as he was now.

She picked up her tea and drank it. The black tea tasted of a slight citrus bitterness. Nevertheless, she enjoyed the tea as much as a vampire can. Food and beverages don’t quite have the same effect as when they were living. They don’t crave them. They can consume and drink like the living, even enjoying the taste, but there was no hunger or thirst to satisfy. Only blood is what they hunger and what truly will satisfy them.

Across from the cafe where she was sitting in was the Barclay’s bank. She observed a few bodies going out of the front. She noted the number of people. Soon it would close and then she would make her move then.

“Amon is a demon.” The words came from a skinny man who was conversing with a woman who looked well beyond his level from the table next to Zea.

“Amon-Ra and he is a god,” corrected the woman. “And no, we don’t have the funds to buy tickets for a trip to New York to check out the Egyptian exhibit.”

“C’mon, we can spare it? I really want to see it. We missed the exhibition when it was in London,” pleaded the man.

“I said we don’t have the funds,” retorted the woman.

Zea rolled her eyes and tuned out the couple. Her phone buzzed. She scrunched up her eyebrows and moaned a little when she read the name appearing in the lock screen of her phone. Her phone continued to buzz until she finally picked it up. “Yes, Peter?” she answered finally.

“I got the intel!” said Peter excitedly.

“Uh, huh,” she said.

“The scroll is in vault nine in the lower levels. Oddly, not that much security. I only see one guard,” commented Peter.

“Of course, like I said. A trap,” said Zea.

There was a short moment of silence before Peter spoke again. “I didn’t do anything. I just opened the computer and ran that program you told me to. Then there was the info with a video showing the insides of the bank.”

“Yeah, that’s what it’s supposed to do,” said Zea, her gaze at the entrance of the bank.

“I would imagine with this kind of tech you’d have that program sends the info directly to your phone,” pointed out Peter.

“And that’s why we let you in our group. That and you wanted to kill EC members,” said Zea, somewhat impressed. She took another sip of her tea. She counted three more people going out of the bank.

“How am I helping you then?” asked Peter.

“Keeping me company until I go in.” She smiled. She could hear Peter coughing.

“Uh, I--,” stuttered Peter.

“Flattered. Don’t worry, I am not interested in you that way. I prefer the company of women,” said Zea.

“I was going to say I would be honored,” clarified Peter.

“It was a joke, Peter,” chuckled Zea .

“A bad one. I prefer the company of men, by the way,” sassed Peter.

“Touché. I’ll buy you an American beer when this is all over,” smiled Zea.

“No, thank you. You can keep your nasty American beer,” said Peter.

Zea chuckled again. Peter was alright. She could see he was going to be a great recruit and, hopefully, an agent like herself.

“More tea?” asked a waitress who stood in front of Zea with a teapot.

A commotion outside the cafe had the waitress turning away before Zea could answer. Zea looked in the waitress’ direction and watched a wave of people clamoring to take a picture of someone coming out of the limousine that had parked in front of a nearby restaurant. Among the people, a dark haired woman slipped out of them and into a dark alleyway.

Zea narrowed her eyes. The movement was too smooth and fast for a human.

“Oh my god, that’s Kimlee Carter!” yelped the waitress.

“Who?” asked Zea but more to herself.

“She’s an A-list actress and is nearly in every current movie playing. She also has a nice makeup line with an awesome perfume too,” answered Peter. “Not that I know.” He coughed.

“And you know this?” Zea felt somewhat embarrassed and felt out of time.

“C’mon, now. You don’t watch movies?” asked Peter.

“I hardly have the time,” answered Zea, which was very much true nowadays.

The waitress turned around. “Sorry, about that. Did you want some more tea?” she asked.

Zea lifted up a hand. “I’m fine,” she said.

The waitress nodded and then went off to the next table.

“Elizabeth really keeps you busy, huh,” said Peter, trying to start a small talk to pass the time.

“Yes. How many are left in the bank? Civilians specifically,” asked Zea.

“Two people, it seems. How is Elizabeth?” asked Peter.

“She’s great. Nice person,” said Zea and noted one person exited the bank.

“Are you two, uh, together? I mean, she seems concerned for you," asked Peter.

Now Zea was coughing. “No.”

“Sorry. This is getting kind of awkward. Different question. How did Elizabeth become a vampire? I admire her greatly but I don’t really know her apart from what people whispered," said Peter.

Zea finally saw the two remaining people exit the bank. It was time.

“The short version. She was born in Boston in 1749. EC vampires decided to enter the Revolution war, and she asked a vampire to make her one so that she could fight them. I’m going in. Take my stuff and wait for me at the escape route. Especially, if I get into trouble. Got it?” said Zea.

“What do you mean in trouble?” asked Peter concerningly.

“I think Drake just sent someone to steal the scroll,” answered Zea. She wasn’t sure. After cutting down Nova, that vampire may very well be from the EC in an attempt to keep it out of her and Drake’s hands.

“Right. Makes sense," said Peter.

Zea stood up and placed a handful of pounds. She slung over her purse that she had set at her feet prior to entering the cafe. She nodded at the hostess who watched her place the money on the table. “Keep the change.” She left the cafe before the hostess could thank her.

“I’m moving in. Get to the rendezvous point for the escape route,” ordered Zea.

“I will. Be careful," said Peter before Zea hung up the call.

Zea crossed the street. She went to the dark alleyway where she had seen the vampire enter earlier. It was the path she was going to take anyway as there was a way through a basement window to get into the bank.

Once she reached the bank, she moved into an allway where one side was the bank and the other a barbershop. From there, she found the basement window and hesitated. Something was off. The glass was broken. Some of it melted. She also smelled the unmistakable scent of ash and burned flesh. Explosion? She didn’t hear any sound from across the street.

“What happened?” Zea looked at her phone. Earlier, she had sent her drone into the bank to do a scout. She swiped several times across images of different rooms on her phone before settling back to where the scroll was at and the one guard. “Hmm, everything seemed the same in these parts. Can you go to where I am at?”

Zea watched on her phone the view shifted, as if she was there and turning around, before the video abruptly went black.

“Fuck,” she cursed.

She put her purse on the ground and removed a round object clipped on the strap. The purse turned into a large duffle bag the moment she removed the object. She opened the duffle bag and equipped herself the same weapons and gears as was last night except for her shotgun. She had left it with Peter in case she was being chased to the rendezvous point and he needed to defend himself.

Then she knocked out the remaining glass before slipping through the basement window. Once inside, not more than three feet away, was a burned female body. She saw a pattern, a circle with five runes drawn in it, underneath the charred remains.

A trap she was expecting, but this was not what she was anticipated.

“Hmm, interesting. Witches,” she said to herself.

Also explains why her drone, who probably crossed a ward, went offline.

Zea frowned. She didn’t pack any of her anti-witch gear. A distant memory, an old wise man’s voice, emerged from the ghosts of those she had left behind:

If you can’t defeat an opponent without the sword, then having one won’t help you.

She took out her grenades from her jacket and set them on near a trash bin. They wouldn’t be useful against a witch—especially, as it seems, a fire specialist. She gritted her teeth. Witches that specialized with fire were particularly dangerous to vampires.

Zea moved past the remains of the vampire. At least she remembered the twists and turns to the vault that held the scroll. It won’t take her long before she reached there. She hugged the shadows whenever she could and made sure to scan ahead to spot any etching or symbols along the way.

As she got closer to the vault she saw more and more charred bodies. How did she not see this? She had both her drone survey the area and also tapped into their security cameras earlier. None of them showed the bodies, some she suspected were days old. She noted to herself to ask her research team about this.

Finally, Zea reached the room with the vault that held the scroll. She didn’t bother to hide in the shadows. The lone security guard, with his thumbs on his belt, and glowing purple eyes was enough evidence that such an action would be futile. The guard stood in front of the scroll which was encased in a glass box.

“Perhaps you’re lucky? It seems all of my fire wards had been used.” said a musing female voice came out of the security guards mouth.

Zea crossed her arms. “I’m looking to buy that scroll over there,” she said cooly.

The guard dissolved away to reveal a woman in a purple silk dress that matched her eerie purple eyes. She flicked her long black hair. “So you’re not one of the regulars attempting to steal the scroll before the auction?”

“How much?” asked Zea.

“It’s an auction, my dear vampire. As high as we can get it but we will not tolerate those who are unwilling to do so,” answered the witch. She took a step forward.

“So a few millions is a no go?” Zea took a step back in reaction. She had to maintain her distance in case the witch decided to barbecue her.

The witch smiled. “You are a funny one. No.” Her eyes narrowed. “Personally, even if you had a few billions, I won’t sell it to your kind.”

Zea clenched her jaw. The witch was one of those that were still bitter about past wars between their kind. “Ah, so all the burned bodies along the way were vampires?”

“No. A few hunters and werewolves. One stupid non-coven witch,” responded the witch.

“Look, something tells me that the scroll doesn’t do what I was told. Else, you’d wipe us off the map by now,” observed Zea.

The witch shrugged. “I cannot deny nor confirm that. However, I will not defy my priestess order. She wants it sold to the highest bidder. Now, I like you, despite you being a vampire. So I will let you turn away. You can try at the auction like everyone else but I am not sure how you will pull it off since it would be in the daylight on the rooftop and the buyer must be physically present. No third party allowed as well. Cash, gold or verified bank accounts only. Payments as combinations of the three are acceptable.”

“Those are some shitty rules. Sounds like you guys really don’t want to sell that scroll to vampires,” scoffed Zea.

“Ironic. The ECs were the ones that asked us to have those rules. You have ten seconds before I burn you to a crisp,” warned the witch.

“I like you too. So I am going to not kill you but I will take the scroll.” Zea dove to the left, rolling on her shoulder to miss a ball of fire before getting back onto her feet. Something felt off on the balls of her feet as she withdrew her geometric sword.

“You’re quick,” said the witch. “But that won’t be enough.”

Zea snarled, showing her fangs. She was quicker than that. She looked down to see her feet seeking into the floor. “What magic is this? I didn’t see any runes on the ground,” she said.

The witch pointed upward.

Zea followed and saw that there were giant outlines of runes and symbols burned into the ceiling of the vault. This was why she felt off on her feet. This was why she didn’t see any of the charred bodies on her drone’s and security cameras.

“Now be a good girl and burn,” said the witch as she lifted a hand.