Blood and Blessed Water
The bullet had gone through.
I pressed my hand against Sera's shoulder, felt the hot pulse of blood between my fingers. She didn't scream. Just hissed through her teeth and rolled behind Rabbi Loew's headstone, pulling her gun with her good hand.
"How many?" I asked.
"One shooter. Rooftop, southeast corner." Her voice stayed level despite the blood soaking through her jacket. "Professional. That wasn't a kill shot."
She was right. A professional would have aimed for the head. This was a warning, or a message, or—
"They want you alive," I said.
"Yeah, well." Sera's laugh came out wet. "Feeling's not mutual."
I could smell the shooter now, human sweat and gun oil and something else. Something familiar. The scent of the hunter network, that particular blend of silver polish and blessed water they all carried.
"One of yours," I said.
Sera's mouth went flat. She pulled out her phone with her good hand, typed something one-handed. "Not anymore."
The phone buzzed. She read the message and her face went carefully blank.
"What?"
"Viktor wants to meet. Now." She showed me the screen. Safe house. One hour. Come alone or don't come at all.
"Your handler."
"Yeah." Sera pushed herself up, keeping pressure on her shoulder. Blood dripped between her fingers. "The one who sent me to kill you."
The safe house was a communist-era apartment in Vinohrady, all concrete and peeling wallpaper and the kind of anonymous ugliness that made it perfect for clandestine meetings. Sera had made me wait three blocks away, said Viktor would shoot first if he saw a vampire.
I'd agreed. Mostly because the wound in her shoulder needed attention and arguing would waste time.
But I followed anyway, keeping to the shadows, close enough to hear her heartbeat through the walls.
The apartment was on the fourth floor. Sera climbed the stairs slowly, her left arm hanging useless. She didn't knock. Just used a key and pushed the door open.
Viktor was waiting.
He was older than I'd expected, maybe sixty, with the kind of weathered face that came from decades of night work. Silver hair cut military-short. Hands steady as he raised the gun and pressed it against Sera's forehead.
"Tell me you didn't let him live."
Sera didn't flinch. "He escaped."
"Try again."
"He was stronger than the intel suggested. I tracked him to his haven, engaged, he got away." Her voice stayed flat, reciting a report. "I eliminated one hostile who interfered with the operation."
"That hostile was mine." Viktor's finger tightened on the trigger. "Sent to supervise your kill. And you put three bullets in his chest."
"He got in my way."
"He was backup."
"I don't need backup." Sera met his eyes. "And I don't need supervision."
The gun didn't move. Viktor studied her face like he was reading a language only he understood. "You're lying."
"Prove it."
"I don't have to prove it. I know you, Sera. Known you since you were sixteen years old, since Mara brought you into the network." His voice went soft, almost gentle. "I know when you're lying."
Sera's heartbeat kicked up. Just a fraction, but I heard it.
So did Viktor.
"Where is he?"
"I told you—"
"Nikolai Thorn is too dangerous to leave alive. He has information that could destabilize the peace we've built with the Consilium." Viktor lowered the gun slightly, just enough to aim at her heart instead of her head. "Information that gets curious hunters killed. Like your sister."
The words hung in the air between them.
Sera's hand twitched toward her gun. Viktor's finger tightened on the trigger.
"Don't," he said.
"What information?"
"The kind you don't want to know."
"Mara wanted to know." Sera's voice went hard. "And now she's dead."
"Yes." Viktor holstered his gun. "She is. And if you keep following her path, you will be too."
He walked past her to the door, paused with his hand on the frame. "Find Thorn. Kill him. Or I'll send someone who will."
The door closed behind him.
Sera stood perfectly still for thirty seconds. Then she pulled out her phone and took a photo of the blood trail she'd left on the floor. Sent it to someone. Waited.
Her phone buzzed.
She read the message and smiled. It wasn't a nice smile.
Then she walked to Viktor's desk and started picking the lock.
I found her twenty minutes later, elbow-deep in classified files, blood still seeping through the makeshift bandage she'd wrapped around her shoulder.
"You should be in a hospital," I said.
Sera didn't look up. "You should be three blocks away."
"You're bleeding."
"I've bled before." She pulled out a file, photographed each page with her phone. "Make yourself useful. Check the bottom drawer."
I crossed to the desk. The drawer was locked, but the lock was old and simple. It opened with a twist of metal.
Inside were more files. Personnel records, operation reports, financial statements. And underneath them all, a single folder marked with Mara's name.
I pulled it out.
The official hunter network report listed her death as "collateral damage—vampire feeding gone wrong." The details were sparse. Date, time, location. A warehouse in Karlín. No witnesses. Body found three days later, drained of blood.
But there was a second file underneath, coded in a cipher I recognized. Consilium protocol, the kind used for joint operations between the vampire government and human authorities.
"Can you read that?" Sera asked.
"Some of it." I photographed the pages. "But I know someone who can read all of it."
"Who?"
"Someone who owes me a favor." I closed the file. "We need to leave. Viktor will notice these are disturbed."
Sera grabbed two more files and shoved them in her jacket. "Let him notice."
"Sera—"
"He killed her." Her voice stayed level but her hands shook. "Or he helped kill her. Same thing."
"You don't know that."
"I know he lied. I know the official report is bullshit. I know there's a coded file about her death that mentions 'Consilium cooperation' and 'acceptable losses for treaty maintenance.'" She met my eyes. "What else do I need to know?"
Everything, I thought. But I said, "We need the cipher translated first."
"Fine." Sera headed for the door. "I know someone."
Dr. Havel's office at Charles University was exactly what I'd expected: books stacked on every surface, papers scattered across the desk, the smell of old coffee and older tobacco. He was younger than Viktor, maybe fifty, with the kind of soft academic face that had probably never seen real violence.
That face went pale when Sera showed him the coded file.
"Where did you get this?"
"Mara's things," Sera lied. "I found it after she died."
"This is Consilium cipher." Havel's hands shook as he set the papers down. "Official protocol. You shouldn't have this."
"But you can read it."
"I—" He looked at me for the first time, really looked, and his face went even paler. "You brought a vampire to my office."
"He's with me," Sera said.
"That doesn't make me feel better."
"Translate the file, Havel."
"No." He pushed the papers back across the desk. "Take these and leave. Burn them. Forget you ever saw them."
Sera didn't move. "You owe Mara."
"Mara's dead."
"Because of what's in that file."
Havel closed his eyes. When he opened them again, something had shifted in his expression. Resignation, maybe. Or guilt.
He pulled the papers back and started translating.
His voice shook on every word.
"Subject M. Kovač eliminated per joint protocol. Hunter network cooperation confirmed. Evidence contained. Consilium representative Cassia Vex personally oversaw disposal. Asset neutralized with minimal exposure risk. Treaty terms maintained."
The room went very quiet.
Sera's face showed nothing. But her heartbeat was a drum against her ribs, fast and hard and furious.
"Joint protocol," she said. "That means—"
"The hunter network and the Consilium worked together." Havel set the papers down like they burned his fingers. "Your sister was killed by both sides. Officially sanctioned. Approved at the highest levels."
"Why?"
"I don't know. The cipher doesn't say." He looked at Sera with something like pity. "But if Cassia Vex was involved personally, it was important. She doesn't handle minor problems."
I knew that name. Every vampire in Europe knew that name.
Cassia Vex. Consilium enforcer. Three hundred years old and utterly ruthless. She'd put down rebellions, eliminated threats, maintained the treaty between vampires and humans through a combination of diplomacy and strategic murder.
If she'd killed Mara personally, it meant Mara had found something that threatened the entire system.
"What was Mara investigating?" I asked.
Sera's mouth went flat. "She never told me. Said it was safer if I didn't know."
"She was protecting you."
"Yeah, well." Sera grabbed the papers and shoved them in her jacket. "Look how that turned out."
Havel stood up. "You need to leave. Both of you. If the Consilium finds out you have that file—"
"They already know," I said. "The shooter at the cemetery wasn't random. Someone's been tracking us since we left my haven."
Sera's hand went to her gun. "How long have you known?"
"Since the Old Town Square. I caught the scent twice, lost it both times." I moved to the window, checked the street below. Empty, but that didn't mean anything. "Whoever it is, they're good."
"Hunter or vampire?"
"Can't tell. The scent's wrong. Masked somehow."
Havel backed toward his desk. "You need to go. Now. I can't be involved in this."
"You're already involved," Sera said. "You translated the file."
"I didn't—I don't—" His hand fumbled for the phone on his desk.
Sera pulled her gun.
"Don't."
Havel froze. "Sera, please. I have a family."
"So did Mara."
"I didn't kill her."
"But you knew." Sera's voice went cold. "You knew about the joint protocol. You knew the hunter network was working with the Consilium. You knew and you didn't tell me."
"I couldn't—the treaty—"
"Fuck the treaty."
The window exploded inward.
Glass sprayed across the office. I grabbed Sera and pulled her down as bullets punched through the space where her head had been. Havel screamed and dropped behind his desk.
The shooter was on the rooftop across the street, silhouette barely visible against the night sky. Professional stance, professional weapon. Same shooter from the cemetery, I'd bet my life on it.
Sera fired back through the broken window. Three shots, tight grouping. The shooter dropped out of sight.
"Move," I said.
We ran for the door. Havel stayed behind his desk, hands over his head, still screaming.
The hallway was empty. We took the stairs three at a time, Sera's shoulder leaving blood smears on the railing. My phone buzzed in my pocket.
Unknown number.
I answered anyway.
"Nikolai Thorn." The voice was female, honey-sweet, with an accent that placed her somewhere in the Mediterranean two centuries ago. "How lovely to finally speak with you directly."
I knew that voice.
Cassia Vex.
"We need to talk, darling," she continued. "You and your little hunter friend have something that belongs to me. And I'm afraid I'm going to need it back."
"The file."
"Among other things. But we can discuss the details in person." A pause. "I'm in the lobby of Dr. Havel's building. Do come down. I promise I won't bite."
The line went dead.
Sera looked at me. "Who was that?"
"The vampire who killed your sister."
Her face went blank. Then she checked her gun, counted the rounds left. "How many exits does this building have?"
"Three. But she'll have them all covered."
"Then we go through her."
"Sera—"
"She killed Mara." Sera's voice stayed level but her eyes were black with rage. "I'm not running."
We reached the ground floor. The lobby was small, just a reception desk and a few chairs and a door leading to the street.
Cassia Vex stood in the center of the room.
She was beautiful the way a knife was beautiful: elegant and deadly and designed for a single purpose. Dark hair pulled back in a severe bun. Pale skin that hadn't seen sunlight in three hundred years. A dress that probably cost more than Sera's car.
And a smile that made my blood run cold.
"There you are, darlings." She clasped her hands together. "I was beginning to think you'd try the fire escape. How tedious that would have been."
Sera raised her gun.
Cassia didn't move. "Oh sweet thing, put that away. Silver bullets won't help you here."
"They'll slow you down."
"Perhaps. But then my associates would be forced to shoot your vampire friend, and that would be such a waste." She gestured to the windows. "I brought six hunters with me. All excellent shots. All very loyal to the treaty."
I could smell them now. Six humans, positioned around the building, weapons trained on the lobby.
Sera didn't lower her gun. "What do you want?"
"I want the file you stole from Viktor's office. I want the photographs you took. I want every copy you made." Cassia's smile widened. "And then I want you to forget you ever saw them."
"And if I don't?"
"Then I'll kill you the same way I killed your sister. Slowly. Painfully. And I'll make Nikolai watch." She tilted her head. "Or perhaps I'll kill him first. Let you watch. I haven't decided yet."
Sera's finger tightened on the trigger.
"Don't," I said quietly.
"She killed Mara."
"I know."
"She's admitting it."
"I know."
Cassia laughed. "Oh, this is delicious. The hunter and the vampire, united in grief. How very touching." She took a step forward. "But grief won't save you, darlings. Nothing will. You've seen something you shouldn't have seen. You know something you shouldn't know. And now—"
The lights went out.
Every light in the building, all at once. Emergency lighting kicked in after three seconds, bathing the lobby in red.
Cassia's smile vanished.
"That wasn't me," she said.
The front door exploded inward.
Not blown open. Not kicked in. Exploded, the wood and glass and metal frame disintegrating into splinters and shrapnel that filled the lobby like shrapnel from a grenade.
Through the smoke and debris walked a figure I hadn't seen in fifty years.
Tall. Broad-shouldered. Moving with the kind of predatory grace that marked the oldest vampires, the ones who'd survived centuries by being faster and stronger and more ruthless than everything else.
He wore a long coat that had gone out of style in the 1800s. His hair was white, not with age but with the same genetic quirk that had marked his bloodline for a thousand years.
And his eyes—
His eyes were the color of fresh blood.
"Cassia," he said. His voice was soft, almost gentle. "I believe you have something that belongs to me."
Cassia's face went pale. "Konstantin. What are you doing here?"
"Collecting a debt." He looked at me. "Hello, Nikolai. It's been a long time."
I couldn't speak. Couldn't move. Couldn't do anything but stare at the vampire who'd sired me, who I'd thought was dead for half a century, who was standing in the lobby like he'd never left.
Konstantin smiled.
"We have much to discuss, my child. But first—" He turned back to Cassia. "—you and I need to talk about what you did to the Kovač girl."
Cassia took a step back. "The Consilium sanctioned—"
"The Consilium doesn't sanction murder on my territory without my permission." Konstantin's voice stayed soft but the temperature in the room dropped ten degrees. "And you certainly don't kill someone under my protection."
"Mara Kovač wasn't—"
"She was." He glanced at Sera. "Both sisters were. Are. And you've violated that protection."
The six hunters outside opened fire.
Bullets punched through the windows, through the walls, through everything. Konstantin moved faster than thought, grabbed Cassia by the throat and used her as a shield. The bullets meant for him hit her instead, silver rounds that burned and smoked in her flesh.
She screamed.
Konstantin threw her through the front wall.
Then he turned to me and Sera. "Run."
"What—"
"RUN."
We ran.
Out through the hole where the door used to be, into the street, past the hunters who were reloading and repositioning. Konstantin stayed behind, and I heard the screams start as we turned the corner.
Sera's phone buzzed.
She checked it while we ran.
Her face went white.
"What?" I asked.
She showed me the screen.
A photo. Taken from inside Viktor's apartment. Showing the desk we'd searched, the files we'd disturbed.
And underneath, a message: I know what you took. I know who you're with. And I know where to find you. —V
"He's coming," Sera said.
Behind us, the screaming stopped.
And in the sudden silence, I heard footsteps.
Not running. Walking.
Slow and steady and inevitable.
Coming closer.