CHAPTER 6
THE EASTERN PERIMETER of Penn City is a stark contrast to its lit and opulent interior, a wasteland of abandoned factories and tattered infrastructure where Northcross never fully took hold—a buffer between civilization and the wilderness beyond.
High vampire activity has made this zone too dangerous to develop, pushing back against any attempt at expansion for a while now.
I crouch atop a dilapidated warehouse and pull the shadows into focus, my eyes shifting to accommodate the dark.
The moon hangs low in the sky, casting elongated shadows across the barren landscape.
A serrated barbican snakes along the frontier, its surface scarred and pitted from decades of assault.
Sections have crumbled entirely, leaving gaping breaches just wide enough for an intruder to slip through.
A vampire. Tonight’s attack stands as a silent warning that this line of defense is hard-won but never unchallenged.
My comm crackles to life.
“Team Alpha in position,” a female voice reports. “No movement at the northwest safehouse.”
“Team Bravo,” another chimes in. “Two suspects apprehended at location three. Resistance minimal.”
I switch channels. “General, what’s your status?”
“Four locations cleared,” he responds. “Seven suspects in custody.”
Movement catches my eye—a flash of something way too fast to be human, darting between buildings about half a mile out.
I straighten, readying my bow.
“Nothing here yet,” I report, fitting an arrow to the string. Not true, but the rules are clear: no killing, which is exactly what I intend to do.
I start moving, leaping from rooftop to rooftop with preternatural tempo.
The figure resolves into a tall, lean vampire moving with the desperate speed of prey, heading for the boundary line.
Beyond that, Penn City’s jurisdiction ends, and the wild territories begin.
If he crosses, I lose him. I draw my bow, sighting down the arrow.
The distance is extreme, even for me, but I’ve made harder shots.
I exhale slowly, compensating for wind and trajectory, then release.
The arrow whistles through the air, a silver streak against the darkened sky.
It catches the vampire in the shoulder, sending him sprawling across the dirt-strewn ground.
I’m on him before he can recover, another arrow nocked and aimed at his heart. “Don’t move,” I command, closing the distance between us.
He snarls, fangs extended, eyes blazing red. The arrow in his shoulder smokes slightly, the wound oozing vitae the same color as his spiky hair.
“Let’s start with something simple,” I say, keeping my aim steady. “What’s your name?”
He grimaces, his eyes darting toward the boundary. “Elijah.”
I drive my boot into his wounded shoulder, hard, pushing the arrow deeper. “Your real name.”
He pauses for a moment, digesting the fact that I know about his falsified documents.
“E-Egon,” he stutters, wincing as more vitae seeps from his wound.
A sudden shift in the air is my only warning. I do not turn, do not give any indication that I’ve noticed. Instead, I maintain eye contact with Egon, watching the flicker in his eyes as his companions approach.
The attack comes simultaneously from both sides, a coordinated ambush meant to overwhelm me.
Without breaking my stance, I release the arrow at the vampire to my right, the lumen tip finding its throat.
Then, I drop my bow and draw my dagger, driving it upward through the ribcage of the second attacker as his momentum carries him into me.
The blade finds his heart, making his body go rigid, a strangled gasp escaping his lips before he crumples to the ground.
I speed over to the first attacker, pulling the arrow out of his throat, then correcting it into his heart where it was supposed to land.
Both bodies hit the ground with dull thuds, their forms already beginning to decay and turn to dust. I return my attention to Egon, who stares at his fallen comrades with undisguised horror.
“Sorry about your friends,” I remark, fitting another arrow to my string and aiming it at his face. “Now, who do you work for?”
His mouth opens and closes, eyes darting sideways as if praying for backup, fright rendering him momentarily speechless.
“I won’t ask again,” I warn, drawing the bowstring tighter.
“C-Cain,” he finally gasps out, flinching as if the name itself might summon punishment. “His name is Cain.”
The name means nothing to me, but I commit it to memory. “And what does Cain want with me?”
Egon shakes his head frantically. “I-I don’t know.”
I shoot the arrow into his thigh, sending a jolt of pain through him. “Try again.”
“I’m telling the truth!” he wails, his vitae pooling beneath him. “We follow orders, that’s all!”
I study his face, looking for deception.
Finding none, I pull the arrow in his shoulder back slightly. “The women who led the attack, what’s her name and connection to Cain?”
“Clementine.” Egon shivers, whether from blood loss or fear, I can’t tell. “I’m not sure, but she’s the only one who can speak to him without permission.”
The name alone sounds soft, sunlit, something out of a pie recipe. Exactly the sort of name you’d stitch to the woman who makes terror look polite.
Well, it’s clear Whiteshades have high standings in vampire society.
I move on to the next, most important piece of information I need. “What do you know about the Ravens?”
“The Ravens?” Real fear flashes across his features now, different from the pain-induced scare of moments before.
“I’ve never met them, but word has it that their leader is the only one able to challenge Cain.
And no one challenges Cain.” He swallows hard.
“They’re a very secretive group. You don’t find them—they find you. ”
“Names?”
“No one knows.” The defeated slump of his shoulders tells me he isn’t holding back.
I’ve been tracking the Ravens for years and always hit the same wall of silence. Not even Redmoore has managed to get any names beyond my brother’s.
“Their masks,” I press, desperate for something, anything. “The insignia—”
“Please,” Egon begs, his eyes darting nervously to the boundary line. “I’ve told you everything I know. If Cain finds out I’ve spoken to you at all…” He trails off, trembling.
I consider killing him. It would be easy—one clean shot through the heart. But his distress isn’t an act. He genuinely doesn’t have what I need.
“Fine.” I rip the arrow from his thigh. He screams, collapsing onto his side.
“Tell Cain that if he ever steps foot in Penn City again, which includes anyone that works for him, I will personally hunt every single one of you down.” I gesture to nothing beside us.
“Take your friends with you. Let them be a message.”
“T-they’re gone,” he stammers, confusion momentarily overriding his fear. “You killed them.”
“Exactly.” I throw him a wink while yanking the other arrow free. He cries out, curling into himself. “Leave before I change my mind about letting you live.”
I step back, lowering my bow but keeping it ready.
Egon staggers to his feet, clutching his wounds. “Cain won’t stop,” he says as he backs away. “Not until he gets what he wants.”
My stare is cold. “Neither will I.”
As Egon disappears into the shadows, I glance at the decaying bodies of the vampires I’ve killed, already turning to ash in the cool night air. The arrow beside them is untainted by their corrupted blood, as if their existence were merely a figment of imagination.
I retrieve the projectile, sliding it back into my quiver before tapping my comm unit. “Contact with three hostiles at the eastern perimeter: two terminated, one escaped.”
“Terminated?” The general’s voice is sharp with disapproval. “The orders were to capture, not kill.”
“They didn’t give me a choice,” I lie, scanning the horizon. The sun will be rising soon. “I’m heading back now.”
Dawn breaks as I enter the central district, the first rays of sunlight painting the skyline in hues of pink and gold that belie the darkness spreading beneath.
By the time I reach headquarters, the building is buzzing with activity.
Keepers escort handcuffed vampires to holding cells, while medical staff attend to wounded personnel.
General Lee is inside the command center, surrounded by bright, digital displays showing various parts of the city.
His face is grim, the lines around his eyes deeper than before.
“Seraph,” he acknowledges as I approach. “Report.”
I hand him back the bow and arrow, then recount my encounter in detail, omitting nothing except the fact that I deliberately let Egon go. The general listens intently, his expression growing grimmer with each word.
“Cain,” he says when I finish, letting the name sizzle on his tongue. “I’ll pass it on to Redmoore. You’ve done enough today. Get some rest, for real this time, and prepare for the exchange tonight. You’ll need all the strength you can get.” He places a firm hand on my shoulder as he passes me.
“What about Max?”
“There’s nothing more you can do for him right now,” he says, his voice softening slightly. “We have teams monitoring all victims. Focus on what’s ahead.”
Fatigue hits me like a ton of bricks. Every muscle in my body aches with exhaustion, but my mind refuses to quiet down. However, I don’t bother to argue. The general is right.
I need to be at my best for tonight.
The sun is fully up by the time I reach my apartment, bathing the city in deceptive normalcy. I lock the door behind me, leaning against it for a moment before heading straight to my computer terminal.
My fingers hover over the keyboard, hesitating only briefly before accessing RedNet—Redmoore’s classified database of known vampire threats with real-time updates. It keeps all hunters connected, whether a mere venator looking for a good buck or a professional slayer bound to stay informed.