The blizzard was an omen that Asher should’ve listened to.

A ferocious gale shrieked like banshees in the night. His jeep puttered as he forced it through the harsh conditions of Nevermourn’s mountain terrain, straining to see amid the gathering mist and snowflakes. The fog lights did little to help him navigate across the slickened roads covered in sheens of black ice.

Asher plunged through the dark depths of the forest, keeping his eyes peeled for any wicked nasties that might pop out from the shadows. He couldn’t afford to hit another poor snow deer. Good thing Mr. Odowix covered the damages, as the jeep was registered in his name. Illegal immigrants like himself weren’t technically permitted to drive but it wasn’t like the DMV (Department of Magical Vehicles) cared enough about his ramshackled jeep.

When the town came into view, Asher killed his bright head beams and crept down the pothole-riddled roads with caution. He didn’t want to be stopped by vampire patrol officers. Last time it happened, he cleverly lied about providing his own blood for the vampires. Asher recoiled at the mere thought of such a thing. How others succumbed to such a sad life, he’d never understand. Asher would fight tooth and nail before ever letting a vampire make him their personal bloodbag.

Despite the silver dagger he carried in his pocket, Asher had no intentions of slaying any vampires that night. He only wanted to gather information, and The Last Drop pub was notorious for vampires at nighttime to dine on fresh blood and fuck around in the back.

All Asher had was a sketch to find Sebastian Wraith, and he hoped he’d learn more of his whereabouts. He’d sought answers at that pub before for previous clients. The bartender would tell him what he needed for a bloody price.

Asher pulled off onto the side of the road and cut the engine. It wasn’t like they had actual parking spaces. Vampires didn’t need to drive, after all. He reached down for the beautiful locket around his neck, glimpsing at the tiny photo of him and his mother when he was a mere toddler. Magical energy pulsed around it, imbued with a protection charm she created for him.

Vampires couldn’t touch the necklace or remove it. However, he could use it to burn their sensitive skin. It wasn’t enough to kill them but it sure did wonders to ward them off.

Cold wind nipped at his face when he propped open the door and climbed out. Asher erupted in shivers as he crossed the sidewalk. Icicles dangled from the rafter of the pub, where a faint glow emanated from the windows. Nerves squirmed in the pit of his chest. He stole a quick glance around, seeing his breath visible in the air, but no one else loitered around.

Asher reached for the pub’s handle with a trembling hand, then yanked it open. A metallic scent assaulted his nostrils the moment he stepped inside, letting the door seal him up inside. Regret anchored his leaden legs as several beady, crimson eyes landed on him. Fresh meat. Asher was like a delicious steak dinner to them.

Taking a second to steel himself, Asher marched across the bloodsuckers and their salacious stares as he made his way up to the bar. He pulled out a bar stool, catching the bartender’s eye as he served a man blood from a bottle labeled O Positive Mage Blood. Asher gulped, swallowing down his fears as he produced a corked bottle from his coat.

“Oh, what a treat we’ve got tonight.” The vampire beside him whipped around, cocking an amused grin his way. “Don’t get mages in these neck of the woods often. You sure aren’t a wizard, but I think I’d recognize you around here. Are you undocumented?”

Asher shot him an irritated glance. Rarely do they notice something like that. That vampire even knew how to differentiate wizards and mages. “I’m here on council-related business.”

To his relief, the bartender came over to him and Asher revealed his bottle of fairy blood to him. “I’ve got another if you can tell me about a vampire around here. Might even give you a sample of some mage blood on the house.” Asher winked, cringing deep inside his soul.

The bartender examined the blood and took a whiff, nodding. “Alright, who are you looking for?”

Asher gazed over at the nosy vampire, sipping his mage blood. With the flick of his wrist, he whispered a harmless little hex to clog his ears. Hear No Evil. Cupping his hand over the side of his mouth, to avoid the asshole from reading his lips, he whispered, “Sebastian Wraith.”

“Are you hunting him?”

Asher slouched his shoulders, not caring if the vampire heard the rest. “No, but I know some people who are. I was hired to find him.” And kill him, but Asher didn’t include that.

The bartender stepped back for a moment, scribbling something on a napkin with his quill. He folded it up and handed it over to Asher. Curiosity urged him to sneak a peek. It was an address for a medical clinic.

“You should find him there tonight. He’s not someone you want to mess with. You ought to get back in your little jeep and leave if you know what’s good for you, Asher.”

Asher waved a dismissive hand, then undid the spell on the other vampire’s ears. “I like chasing danger.”

“What the hell did you do?” The vampire snarled and lunged for him, with every intention of choking the life out of him.

However, Asher was prepared for such a response and leaped from his chair, out of the vampire’s grasp. “Thanks for the information.” Asher waved at the bartender, then fled for the door. He didn’t dare linger around any longer.

Coldness seeped down into his bones as he adjusted his hood, concealing his reddened ears and snow white hair. He almost reached his jeep when a strong hand yanked him back, forcing him down onto the icy pavement. Asher blinked against the snowflakes stinging his watery eyes, blurring the smirking face of the vampire from the bar.

“What do you want?” Asher grit his teeth and pulled himself back to his feet, eyes narrowed at the bloodsucker. He dipped his hand into his coat pocket, clenching tightly to the handle of his silver dagger.

The wind whispered in his ear, “Stab him in the eye.”

“Don’t play coy with me, little mage.” The vampire slithered up against him, towering over his smaller body. Rotten breath of blood and decay drifted around Asher as he cringed at the sight of the vampire’s stained teeth. “Tell me what the bartender gave you.” He teased Asher by tugging on his scarf before unraveling it from his neck, leaving the sensitive skin exposed to the cold night air. A black tattoo of a sword and spellbook snaked out from his collar.

“A napkin, dumbass.” Asher glowered.

Haunting laughter echoed in Asher’s head as he shook it away. There was no time for those playful ghosts.

Asher realized the dangerous position he’d put himself in, but part of him savored the old pursuit. Although his body trembled in the winter night, he steeled himself. His magic always protected him from those bloodsuckers.

The vampire drew his sharp nail across his neck, rubbing the pad of his finger against the tattoo. It triggered his protection charms. Silver embers swirled around them much like the snowflakes. “You’re too young to be a vampire hunter, kid. Who gave you such hideous tattoos?”

Asher struggled to break away from him. Heartbeat pounding in his chest, he fought his fears and puffed out his chest like those vampire hunters always did before yanking his dagger out, positioning it against the vampire’s pale neck. Worry lines creased Asher’s forehead, but the vampire only took a measly step back, amusement tugging at his reddened lips.

“No need for weapons, little mage.”

“Then leave me alone,” Asher spat. “And I won’t have to slit your throat with this.”

Killing vampires was illegal in Nevermourn, but laws allowed them to defend themselves. But that only applied to legal citizens. As a born and bred Valorathian, their council would sentence him to death or throw him back to the vampires to be their blood slave.

Cold shivers raked his body as he shook those horrid memories aside. He would never go back to that life. Asher could easily take on that asshole, but when two more vampires stepped out into the snowy night, dread sunk in his chest.

“We just want to have a little fun.” The female bloodsucker cooed as she came up behind him, grasping his waist. A purr rose in her throat as she leaned down, nibbling on his bottom earlobe. Her gloved hand teased him, reaching for the handle of the dagger in his hand before wrenching it from his grip. She tossed it out into the road.

Asher whipped his head away. “Go bite yourselves.”

“Oooh, we’ve got ourselves a feisty one!” She loosened her grip, letting her companion hold him still.

“It’s illegal to drink blood without consent forms here, you damn bloodsuckers,” Asher spat.

“That only applies to legal citizens.” The first vampire stroked his bony fingers through his soft, snow tuff hair. “Just be a good little mage and it’ll be over before you know it. I’m sure you’ll even love it.”

Asher responded by kneeing him in the nuts. A classic trick, even works on those soulless fuckers. Before the vampires could snatch him up by the hairs of his head, he ducked out of their grip and fled down the sidewalk. His vampire buddies pursued him, fangs bared as the hunt commenced. Asher fucking despised Nevermourn just as much as his home country. Vampires always found loopholes to feed.

Vampires savored their hunt, and a mage like him was their perfect prey. It was unfortunate that he couldn’t have climbed in his jeep, but they blocked him from it, knowing how he would have escaped into the night with it.

Heartbeat pounding up in his throat and soles pounding over the rushing wind in his ears, Asher tried to find somewhere to seek refuge. Vacant buildings bypassed him in frosty blur. Agony clawed at his limbs as he pushed himself onward, throwing up defensive barriers around him as he struggled to regulate his ragged breaths.

Too bad they caught up to him. But Asher didn’t give up without a fight. The vampires tore through his barriers like they were nothing but thin sheets of ice. Asher conjured up the snow around him to build a more solid barrier, but the stronger female vampire wrenched him by the arm and halted his spell. Snow fell all around them, yet it didn’t stop the vampires.

He fought against the arms caging him in as the female vampire’s buddies pinned him down.. Hexes barely scratched them. He was no match against three bloodsuckers. If he didn’t escape, he’d die at their merciless fangs.

Asher used his magic to transmute the snow into icicles and stabbed one of the male vampires tugging off his overcoat in the chest. The bloodsucker yelped out in shock, staggering back into the road as he ripped it from his chest and resealed the wound. It must’ve narrowly missed his heart.

“Little shit.” A hand wrapped around Asher’s throat, tightening his sharp nails into the skin.

Panic pulsed through him, breath catching in his throat. “Get off me!” Asher wailed.

Asher flailed in their grasp as they stripped him down to nothing but his underwear, shivering in the freezing night. Tattoos throbbed against his skin, protective barriers to keep him sane as the vampires sunk their fangs into his delicate flesh. Pain erupted from his neck, his chest, and left upper thigh. Trying to fend them off was pointless, but Asher kept struggling to shove them away.

Why wasn’t his magic protecting him? It always did. Something was wrong.

Revolting pleasure pulsed through him as he felt the vampire sink his fangs into his neck, trying to subdue him with his infectious venom. Many would’ve fallen victim to it already had his protective tattoos not fought to ward it off, but they wouldn’t keep him sane forever. Asher reached up for the bloodsucker on his neck, trying to swat him away like a pesky bug before jabbing his thumb through his eye.

The vampire reeled back, clutching at his bleeding eye as Asher worked on shoving the other two away. Asher almost had the next one off his thigh when the eye-gouged vampire latched back onto his neck like a goddamn mosquito.

He conjured up another spell, but before the words escaped his lips, a large hand clamped over his mouth. Asher bit him hard, but he didn’t budge. They were going to drain him of all his blood, leaving nothing but a hollow cadaver for their police to find in the morning.

Tears pricked at his eyes as he gazed out toward the road, begging the Gods above for a swift death.