2. That was Rather Impressive

CHAPTER 2

That was Rather Impressive

E mery Sylvain had been minding his own business, strolling down the snowy streets of Golden City, when a whisper of magic tickled the back of his neck.

Instantly, he perked up. Not all vampires could sense when others used magic, but this was his particular gift from Ithiar, the god of blood.

Someone—two someones, actually, judging by the magical signatures wafting around them—was trailing him. A bold move on their part. Emery wasn't exactly inconspicuous. His wings were out, the black appendages heavy on his back as he strode through the street. Shadows curled at his feet. Power radiated from him, as it had from the moment of his Making nearly nine centuries ago.

It amused him that someone dared follow him. They didn't know who he was, of course, but they would find out soon enough.

Emery walked through Golden City, and his pursuers never left. They weren't very subtle, whoever they were. They stalked him down the main city streets, through the shopping districts, until he reached the edge of the governmental sector.

Emery skirted that part of town. He had no desire to go in there and deal with the Representative bastards who ran this country .

Though he moved normally, pretending not to hear the dual sets of footprints behind him, he paid careful attention to his surroundings.

In this part of the capital, there were no residential buildings. Industrial structures surrounded him on all sides, tall silver and glass buildings reaching for the sky. Unlike the endless sand dunes in the Southern Region, where Emery had grown up, the city structures screamed "man-made."

At first glance, Golden City was beautiful.

The silver and gold contrasted with the glass and aluminum, a testament to the industrial revolutions the continent had undergone since the fae had migrated from the Obsidian Coast to live on their continent. But when one looked closer, cracks appeared on the golden surface.

Refuse filled the alleys between buildings. Unhoused elves, fae, shifters, werewolves, and humans were on street corners and in parks. Lower classes struggled, and food banks often had lines going down the sidewalks. Poverty existed in Golden City, and no matter how much the Representatives tried to hide it, it showed.

Emery crossed the street, where the overhead lights were burned out.

His pursuers were still stalking him. They were getting bolder, drawing more magic around them.

Ahead, he spotted a dark alley shrouded in shadows. It was basically calling his name. Emery had come to Golden City for work, but he'd already taken care of his job. If someone else wanted his particular brand of work, who was he to deny them the pain they were asking for?

His fangs burned at the thought of more blood.

Maintaining an air of nonchalance, Emery slowly made his way over to the dark alley. He flexed his back, his wings taut, as he drew shadows from his palms. The darkness slithered around him like snakes, and he knew without turning around that his pursuers had followed him.

Perfect.

A lazy grin stretched across Emery's face as he slowly turned around.

"Good evening, gentlemen." He cocked a brow, his hands hanging loosely at his sides. "Can I help you?"

The two men who had stalked him across the city stared at him from across the alley. Delicately pointed ears, elongated canines, and a glimmer of violence marked them as fae. Both were tall, though not as tall as Emery. One was dark, whereas the other was light. Raven hair stood in stark contrast to the white, almost blue hair of the other fae.

Both fae extended their hands, and magic flickered above their palms. Not the colored magic of elves, but true, elemental power.

Water hung above the raven's hands while green vines sprouted from the other's fingers.

"That depends, bloodsucking scum." Raven stepped further into the darkness of the alley and flexed his fingers.

Emery scoffed. "On what?"

"On whether you come easily or not," said the other.

That wouldn't be happening. He had no intention of letting them bleed him. Vampire blood was sold on the black market, often used by other species to ward off the Fade.

The two fae lunged towards Emery, but no one was faster than a vampire. He stepped into the Void, shadowing behind the two fae. His wings were outstretched as he grabbed them by the back of their collars.

Pulling on the strength of his kind, he slammed them headfirst into the brick walls and let them drop to the snowy ground. The resounding boom was satisfying, but nothing kept a fae down for long.

"Fucker," growled the white-haired fae as he clambered to his feet. "You're going to pay for that."

No, Emery was quite confident that wouldn't be the case. He opened his palms, shadows swirled around his palms, and he made a, come get me, gesture.

The fae obliged him. They charged at him, their magic spinning around them.

Darkness and light collided in a thunderous boom. Water, earth, and night clashed, lighting up the night sky.

Emery shot a bolt of pure shadows at the raven fae, and the man cried out as he crashed into the brick wall. Mortar fell on him like snowflakes. The other fae yelled, throwing a curtain of vines at the vampire. He sidestepped them, his wings beating as he flew into the air.

Raven stood, an animalistic growl rumbling through him. "Fucking hell, we just wanted your blood, but now we're going to kill you slowly. "

Emery didn't even bother answering him. Instead, he released the full power of his shadows.

Night flooded from the vampire, blanketing the entire city block in darkness. He was a flurry of death as he dealt with the fae, their screams of terror as he ripped them apart limb from limb, feeding his bloodlust.

This was his calling. Emery served Ithiar as he had since the day he was Made. He was a weapon, a creature of the night, a tool of Death itself. It didn't matter that the old times had passed. There was always a need for death, even in the Republic of Balance.

Emery let the sweet call of his purpose envelope him as he finished off the fae. It wasn't like they didn't deserve it—they'd stalked him halfway across the city with the intent to harvest his blood and sell it on the black market.

He knew what people did with vampire blood. They sold it to the highest bidder, letting them use it for everything from healing to buying near-immortality.

He didn't feel a single shred of remorse as he pulled back his shadows and took in the alley.

Blood coated the walls. The snow was crimson. The broken skids piled in the back were painted in scarlet. The fae were irrevocably broken. Their necks were snapped at horrible angles, and their throats were a mess of blood and gore.

He took in the scene and smiled. Licking his fangs, he savored the final drops of blood.

"Well, that was rather impressive," said a musical female voice at the front of the alley. "I don't know how you managed to do that without getting any blood on yourself."

Emery stiffened, his back straightening as he swung around. A snarl ripped through him, but he swallowed it when he saw who stood before him.

It was her . The vampire from Starlight Lake. He had no idea what she'd been doing there, nor did he know anything about her other than she was beautiful.

Long, chestnut hair hung in silky waves to her waist. Black hugged her curves. She was an average height, but her vampiric grace and the heeled boots she wore more than made up for that.

Emery wasn't in the habit of dreaming of other vampires. In fact, ever since his Making, he had lived a rather solitary life. Remaining on the outskirts of vampiric society suited him.

In his past mortal life, he'd been a librarian. Not anymore. He'd been Made against his will, in a time when such a thing wasn't punishable by law, and he'd lost control barely a year after that.

Fledglings were dangerous, and he'd just... slipped up.

A papercut. That was all it had taken. He'd been shelving ancient histories from the Rose Empire when the scent of blood had reached his nose.

One sniff, and he'd ripped through the necks of every patron and librarian unfortunate enough to be at the Ipothan Library that night. He'd bathed in their blood, and by the time the sun had risen, not a single person had been left alive in his wake.

After that, he'd left libraries behind for good. He'd never been able to pick up the Ballad of the Light Elves again, even though it was his favorite of the famous four Rosarian ballads that had survived the passage of time. He didn't deserve to be around books or those who loved them.

Instead, after he killed his Maker for what they did to him, he devoted his time to cleaning up the streets of the Republic of Balance. Evil was everywhere, and there was no shortage of people for him to kill.

"You," he said, surprised at the gravelly tone of his voice. He should've been upset that the woman found him, but he wasn't. Instead, he was... intrigued.

The vampire from the lake didn't look at him with fear or disgust, as most people did when they found Emery with bodies. Then came the screaming—he couldn't leave witnesses, after all. Chancellor Bellamy Rose would be less than pleased if he knew a vampire was cleaning up the streets for him.

But this woman was different. Emery felt it deep within his soul. His dark shadows sang at the sight of her, and he knew she'd leave this alley alive.

Her eyes widened, and she moved towards him with immortal grace. She carefully avoided the blood, a feat in and of itself, and came closer. She drew her bottom lip through her teeth, exposing her fangs. "I… like your style."

There wasn't a trace of disgust or fear in her voice. No sign to indicate she was lying.

What were the chances she wasn't horrified by the sight behind him? Emery glanced over his shoulder at the two men, verifying that they were, in fact, very dead.

No one, not even a near-immortal fae, could rise from what he'd inflicted upon them. There was a beauty in their deaths, he supposed. An artistry to the way their blood painted the bricks. "Thank you."

"Were they causing you problems?" She sounded curious.

"They wanted to kill me." Emery lifted a shoulder. "I just returned the favor."

Killing was what he was good at. Everything else, the man he used to be, died when he was Made in that library.

"Good," she breathed. "They sound like real bastards."

There was barely a foot between them now. Emery's heart, which usually remained slow and steady in his chest, beat faster. "They were."

"I hate men like that," she said. "I would've done the same thing."

All the gods, that declaration sent a bolt of desire through Emery. He hadn't felt anything like that in years. Emery wasn't a monk by any means, but his feeding habits had remained purely platonic of late.

Life was growing tedious.

But now? Here? He was intrigued by the woman in front of him. It surprised him to realize he didn't want to leave. It would be so easy to flap his wings and escape to his hideaway, to shower and rid himself of the dirt of this night, but he wanted to learn more about this woman.

"How did you find me?" he asked.

She tilted her head and studied him. The movement shifted her hair, exposing the long, pale column of her neck. A breeze blew by, bringing her lilac scent to his nose.

His fangs ached. Vampires didn't typically drink from each other unless they were Bound Partners, a ceremony which rarely took place thanks to its eternal consequences, but he wanted to taste her. He bet she was delicious .

The woman moved slowly, as if she knew sudden movements were a bad idea, and reached into her pocket.

She pulled out a small black button. "You dropped this at the lake."

Emery had been wondering where he'd lost that. It hadn't overly concerned him—he wasn't a dragon, hoarding his possessions and snarling at anyone who came near—but he hadn't anticipated this particular turn of events.

"Ah." He nodded. "You scented me."

Not a question.

"Yes." She inched closer. "I'm Jelisette."

Her name hung between them, an offering. Of friendship. Of something more. He wasn't certain, but either way, he would play along.

It had been too long since anything had intrigued him.

"Emery," he supplied.

"Hello, Emery," she said, drawing out the vowels in his name as she tasted the sounds.

Gods, he loved the way his name sounded in her mouth.

Jelisette's black eyes rose slowly, locking onto his. The inches between them suddenly seemed like far too great a distance. Emery's breath caught in his throat. His shadows sang a resounding symphony in his veins. His heart stuttered, his lungs tightened, and everything else seemed to fade away.

He only knew her name—and that she didn't mind a little bloodletting—but suddenly, he wanted to know everything about her.

Shadows slipped from Emery's hands unbidden, swathing them in darkness. He stepped towards her, closing the gap. Lowering his head, he cupped her cheek with one hand. Smooth, unblemished, cold skin. She didn't pull away.

"Have a drink with me?" he breathed, unwilling to break whatever spell surrounded them by speaking too loudly.

All of a sudden, the only thing that mattered was staying with her a while longer.

Her lips tilted up. "I'd love to."

Ignoring the bloody scene behind him, Emery gave into the call of desire pulsing through him. He bent, brushing his lips over hers. This wasn't a kiss because it was barely more than a breath, but it left him wanting more.

Lacing their fingers together, he drew on his shadows and pulled them into the Void. The dark, empty space allowed vampires to traverse from one location to another in the blink of an eye. "Hold on. I know the perfect place."