“The pleasant thing about vampires is that we’re never a disappointment. You know exactly what you’re getting.” She smiled at him, then let it slowly slip away when he didn’t respond. “The first vampire was a mother, you know.”

Without taking his eyes from the vampire, Danya sat down on the bed and reached back to shake Simon’s shoulder again. He didn’t stir.

“Just a simple peasant, caring for her young children while she waited for her husband to return from war,” the vampire continued. “But he never would, and eventually the war would find its way to her doorstep.”

Danya grabbed Simon by the front of his jacket to shake him again and felt a lump beneath his hand. Suddenly, he remembered the knife, the one Simon had used to cut the collar from around his throat. Had it been silver? Danya had been too concerned about how sharp it had looked to notice. He left it where it was for now.

“She fought, of course, like any mother would, but what chance did she have against armed men? And oh, kitten, the things they did to those children as she lay dying. A monster being monstrous isn’t so scary, but a human who can be so many things choosing to tear apart a child, and enjoying it… that’s the truest evil in this world.”

Danya tucked his hand behind himself so that she’d stop eying the blood glistening on his fingertips. “Well, let’s not get competitive.”

She smiled again, revealing the full length of her fangs. “She was dead by the time the fae found her, but that doesn’t matter to them. They breathed magic into her and gave her one night, dusk until dawn, to find the men who had destroyed everything she loved and make them pay.”

“The fae made vampires?”

“Of course. The fae are the source of all magic. Yours and mine.”

Danya had known that, sort of, but he had never really considered the full implications. But this wasn’t the time to worry about it.

“She was supposed to return to dust at the first touch of dawn, but as she walked along the road, she came across men strung up and left to die slow, painful deaths. One of them was her husband, the father of her children, and she realised she was not yet done getting her revenge. She cut him down and shared her power with him, and together they hid from the dawn and continued their retribution.”

Dawn. That was a handy reminder. Vampires hated light and Danya could make light. Just how bright could he make it? Would it be enough to debilitate her? “Are you going to tell me that you were that woman?”

She laughed. “No, kitten, I’m not that old. I was a mother, though.”

If he could disable her just for a minute and get the knife… Was there a chance?

“I had a little girl. She was a mage, like you.”

“You’re not a mage.” She didn’t look like one, and mages couldn’t be turned into vampires.

“I’m not. She was. I raised her. I was her mother.”

“You’re right. Sorry.”

“We kept hidden away, didn’t bother anybody, but of course they found us in the end. They held me down and one man picked up the big rock we used to prop open the back door. He struck her in the head three times, until she stopped twitching.”

Danya cringed. Regardless of what she was now, he couldn’t help but feel bad for what she’d been through. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh, kitten, don’t be sad for me. Even I’m not sad for me anymore. I just hope that you’ll understand now how senseless it is to fight me. True evil comes not from monsters like me, but from men like the one sleeping behind you. I won’t even make him suffer. He’ll simply never wake up.”

“Very noble of you. And I suppose you would never kill an innocent child?”

She managed to maintain her somber expression for a few more seconds, and then burst out laughing. She was still snickering quietly as she pushed herself to her feet. “Of course I would. They’re delicious. Now, kitten, you’re not really going to make me waste more of your precious blood, are you?”

Danya scooted back on the bed and felt for the knife under the guise of shaking Simon again. He had also been hoping that Simon might wake up if he kept the vampire talking long enough, but he was still completely unresponsive. Was Danya really going to have to try to fight a vampire? “Ah… Augustus. The mayor. Are you working with him?”

“No.” She took a step forward, then stopped and tilted her head to the side in consideration. “Well, I was. But now he’s dead. So, technically, no.”

“You killed him?”

“Yes.”

Danya’s fingers crept under Simon’s jacket and wrapped around the hilt of the knife. “But… why?”

“Because I’m a vampire and he wasn’t useful anymore? You’re both shockingly naive.”

“Were any of the things you just told me actually true?”

“Oh, no, every word of that was true. There’s something about being undead that really kills the creative spirit. But if it’s not going to convince you to come without a fight, I might as well stop pretending to care about any of it. It was a long shot, anyway. Killing and eating people on a regular basis makes it particularly difficult to present yourself as a sympathetic figure.”

“Yes. Also, you feel like a monster in my head.”

“Ah. That can’t be helping. Oh well.” She stepped closer again. “Now, what’s the least amount of harm I can do to you to convince you to stop trying to fight me? Maybe a broken leg?”

Danya was silent, focused. She moved again, and this time, so did he.

His eyes were already shut by the time light burst forth from him, so bright that it hurt even his eyes behind his lids. In the same motion he pulled the knife free from its sheath beneath Simon’s jacket and lunged forward.

She was on the floor. He could feel the general shape of her in his mind, but it wasn’t until he got close that he discovered where the different parts of her were. Her pointed fingernails, for instance, were clawing at his throat.

She was definitely weakened and disorientated, though. Danya ignored the attack, the feeling of his own blood dampening his robe, and let his mind open. He found the core of her deep in her chest, lifted the knife, and plunged it down. The point of his knife made contact with a rib. He wrenched it free, tried again, and...

The chaotic pit of her dark energy fell away so abruptly that it left Danya disorientated, and it was a few seconds before he realised it was safe to let his light fade out. She was dead. Or, well… deader. Danya might have thrown up if he’d had any energy left for it. He’d killed a vampire. He collapsed beside her.

He patted at his throat, but his fingers felt too numb to figure out how badly he was injured. Oh well. Maybe he was bleeding to death. Maybe he wasn’t. Danya wasn’t sure he cared at this point.

He shut his eyes. It felt like only a moment passed, but when he opened them again, the blood on his hand felt flaky and dry. He was so tired. He tried to move. Gave up. Shut his eyes again.