A wave of flame rushed forward at Zea. The ghostly old wise man’s voice echoed distantly in her mind again:

If your opponent had you pinned and they attack you head on, what do you do?

Zea moved her sword with one hand, like a hypnotic dance, in a series of arcs. The flames moved around her, forced by the air from her sword movements.

The witch, to her, it seemed Zea had not moved at all. She watched the flames split around the vampire. Now it was her turn to snarl. “More!” she shouted.

Now a wall of flames encircled Zea. The ghostly old wise man’s voice asked concerningly:

And when they surround you?

Zea's eyes glowed red as she called upon her vampiric powers and her sword movements increased. The wall flames arched downward as if to encase her in a tomb of fire. However, they could only domed over her as the air around her sword movements kept them away.

“Just burn!” The witch shouted.

The flames grew taller and fiercer as if responding to the witch’s rage. Zea gritted her teeth. Her red eyes fading in and out with her true light blue ones.

The ghostly old wise man’s voice in her mind chastised her:

That won’t do. No matter how long you’ve trained—how many battles you’ve fought—even with your vampiric nature, eventually, you will get tired.

She took out a throwing knife from her coat with her free arm and threw it where she thought the witch was at. The fire kept on. Increasing in intensity.

“Your little knives are going to work. My fire will just melt them,” mocked the witch.

A tendril of flames broke through, jolting towards Zea’s chest.

Far into the distant in her mind, fading away, the ghostly old wise man’s voice laughed at her:

But that isn’t a bad thing! It is not over. No, it is at this moment you will see the universe, my dear student.

“Master, you rambled too much,” said Zea under her breath, pushing away that distant echo. She didn’t need to see the universe and it wasn’t over yet.

Not by a long shot.

She slashed her sword upward with such ferocity that it left her hand. The sheer force from that one moment created a whirlwind column of air. It caught the tendril in its vortex, pushing the flame upward.

The sword and the tendril of flame, carried by the vortex, thrust upward and crashed into the ceiling. The sword struck first, embedding itself into the middle of a rune. The flames came next and spread across like a snake uncoiling. Along its path, it erased all the burned in runes in a sea of blackness.

Zea, her feet free from the runic magic, bursted out of the wall of fires.

The witch had only time to open her mouth before she felt a fist in her gut. All air was knocked out of her before she felt a second strike across her back that sent her straight into the ground. All the fires went out.

Zea stood over the witch, slightly out of breath. She didn’t hit hard enough to kill but the witch will have bruising and some fractures tomorrow. “I commend you. That wasn’t easy,” she said.

The witch didn’t respond.

The vampire turned away. The scroll was there for her to take. All she had to do was grab it and run.

“Zea!” A familiar voice shouted behind her.

The vampire turned sharply in the direction of the newcomer. “What the fuck? You are supposed to be at the escape point!”

“Yeah but the video went dark. Looks like you had one hell of a battle,” said Peter who emerged where she had come from but stopped abruptly. He looked down in surprise to see a hand had curled around the collar of his sweatshirt. He was now face to face with Zea who was at his height. “You are really fast,” she said in awe.

“Go back, now,” commanded Zea before pushing Peter away.

He stumbled back. “But--” he sputtered.

“GO!” shouted Zea.

“The scroll is not there!” barked Peter.

Zea whipped back and saw that there was nothing in the glass box. She went over to the witch and kneeled beside her. She lifted the witch’s head by the hair. “Where is it? If I must, I will beat it out of you,” she threatened.

The witch only smiled. Zea let go of the witch disgustingly. She wasn’t going to get any answers.

“It’s a trap. Like you said,” said Peter. He took out a scroll from under his sweatshirt. “It was in another vault. I re-ran the surveillance video. There were weird glitches, and I noticed that the scroll was actually in two different vaults.”

Zea shook her head. Peter may have just saved her from further trouble. “I owe you one,” she said.

“I am actually a wine kind of guy. If you still wanted to buy me a drink,” smirked Peter.

“The one in his hands is also a trap,” smiled the witch, her eyes glowing purple once more.

The scroll in Peter’s hand burst into flames. Fire leaped up his arms. He screamed.

Zea, without thinking, dashed to Peter. She had only time to knock his hands, the burning scroll tumbling down to the ground. Flames jumped over to her from the scroll and singed down her half of her face, neck and shoulders.

The witch stood up, albeit she had a hand around her ribs. “I, Idina, will remember you, Zea, as I walked down the Halls of the Sisters of Dawn.” She murmured and then drew a rune into the air with purple light from her finger.

Zea’s eyes went wide. Remembering a witch in her past who did similar actions. “Stop!” she shouted and disappeared.

The witch’s eyes went wide when Zea reappeared in front of her and held her hand that had been tracing the rune in the air. The purple light of the rune faded away.

“No, don’t. Your life isn’t worth your coven,” whispered Zea desperately as if she was imagining the witch as someone else.

Idina curled a smile. “I am impressed by how you know this spell, but it seems your knowledge of it is incomplete,” she said. She turned her eyes to where she had drawn the rune. The purple light reappeared and completed the rune as if there was an invisible finger finishing it off. She then tip-toed up and planted a kiss on Zea’s forehead. “Goodbye, Zea."

At first there was nothing. Then there was a light hovering the witch’s midsection. It started to grow.

Zea let go of her hold on Idina and ran for it, taking a still burning and screaming Peter with her. She didn’t look back. Madly, she dashed to the vault’s exit. She jumped right before she felt the heat wave hit her.

Boom!

A roaring explosion of flames blasted out of the vault and two dark shadows nearly escaped it. They landed hard on the ground and rolled before coming to a stop. The flames receded back. Smoke filled the area outside of the vault.

“Peter?” coughed Zea.

She pulled him behind a statue where she propped him against it. He was smoking and most of his skin was blistering. “I have to get you blood. Hang on.”

“No, too late,” croaked Peter. “They will come... you have to run.”

“We will leave together. Peter, fuck, stay with me.”

Peter tried to smile. “It hurts,” he whispered.

Zea pulled him up onto his feet. If she has to, she will give him her blood. They walked a few paces.

“I... wished…,” started Peter.

“Peter, you’re not dying. It’s just fucking fire!” assured Zea.

“Can’t. Feel strange... weak,” said Peter softly.

Zea she clenched her jaw. A trap indeed. She took one of his hands and found white markings like salt had been etched into the palm of his hand in a swirling pattern. The tightness of the coils in the pattern indicated it was a very lethal dosage. He must have got it when he took the scroll. “Vampire poison,” she said. She gently let Peter down. There was nothing she could do. Soon he would be gone.

“I wished I could…,” said Peter weakly. His eyes were hardly able to focus. “Have met her. Elizabeth.” He gasped.

Zea leaned forward and whispered into his ears. When she pulled back, he was smiling. He stayed that way for several minutes. His eyes staring blankly at something past her.

If there was an afterlife for her kind, she would have said rest in peace. Instead she crossed his arms over his chest and closed his eyes. It was the traditional way a vampire would rest in a coffin.

In the distance she could hear footsteps heading in her direction. She stood up and left Peter, her eyes burning with intent. There was something she needed to do before she could leave the bank.