Monster

It had been days since Seth left the city. I hoped my brutal and messy killings of the vampires near St. Charles would have garnered some attention. But for the time being, it seemed like that was not the case. I reflected on my earlier days in St Louis when I was ignorant of the threats lurking below the city streets. I was pulling humans alone, no supernatural creatures, which took about two years. Killing one batch of vampires might not gain me as much notoriety as I had hoped. Maybe this would take longer than I realized.

It was night on the snowy streets of St Louis, winter was in full swing, and the denizens of society had acclimated to the environment, and life continued. Now everyone was bundled up in their goofy-looking pea coats, and gigantic Ugg boots, and I swear I even saw a dude in a puffed-up-looking long coat with actual coattails dragging behind him. He looked like he was going for that Gaston look, probably just to pull in women on the city streets... but who knows?

I ventured out to Martin’s bar, keeping my hood pulled low over my face, the fabric heavy with the weight of necessity. The shadows it cast were the only thing hiding my blackened eyes. Eyes that still haunted me with their relentless reminder of what I was becoming. They were no longer just a temporary affliction… they were a permanent part of me now. Once I convinced Seth to leave the city, the fragile hold I had on my humanity unraveled, slipping away like sand through my fingers. The monster surged back, creeping into my reflection, twisting it into something darker.

The inky blackness of my eyes remained, unyielding, a stark contrast against the skin of my face. I had some control over my teeth, though. They hadn’t fully given in to the beast yet, but four fangs had a habit of showing themselves at the worst times, poking out a little too eagerly. It was a constant struggle to keep them in check, but manageable. Talking to people wasn’t really my thing anymore, anyway. I wasn’t the type to flash smiles or charm anyone with casual conversation. I wasn’t even sure if I could smile anymore—it felt wrong, foreign. But that worked in my favor. The less I interacted, the less chance anyone had to notice just how far gone I was. Plus, I wasn't really the type to just walk around smiling like some fucking idiot, so I had that going for me.

I opened the door to the vampire-owned establishment, catching a glimpse of my dark reflection in the glass. The unsuspecting patrons of Martin's place were buzzing with conversation. As I took in the scents, sites, and atmosphere of the place I realized two things; there were indeed many vampires present, and there were also many other things there. I had only ever really noticed the vampires before, their powerful blood mix was far more potent than any human. It threw my senses off when I first discovered the supernatural world. However, now that I was more accustomed to it, I could kind of compartmentalize them. Keeping track of vampires, and the specific stench they put out, even though it smelled like many different people. Once I could compartmentalize them into their respective figures, it was easier to pick out other people... or things, that lurked around them.

Randomly speckled throughout the sea of nighttime creatures, were oddities that I hadn't picked out before. Different colored eyes peeked out from behind glasses, strange physical features hid beneath clothing, but not for my senses.

I focused inside my mind and sent out a pulse in the bar. I melded the pulse with all my other senses, breathing in the place, feeling every inch of the bar and its intricacies. The new folks that I was inspecting had many odd details about them. Oddly slow heartbeats... Not human. Different rhythms of breathing that seemed almost like they were sniffing or tasting the air. Beneath clothing, I could sense spines, or spikes rather. From a distance, they could have passed as humans, or maybe after a few drinks, the average everyday human might see normal people. Might follow one home for… a close encounter, or a brush with death.

As my pulse swallowed the room, I noticed the humans that lingered there as well. Anytime I was at Martin's, and humans were present, they all had the same feeling... drunk. They had been bar hopping all night, sweat clung to the backs of their shirts, and they were just looking for a good time. Only after drinking for hours and feeling the alcohol boosting their courage did they have their adventure to this side of town. They must have known about the red-headed woman who ran the bar. Maybe they’d seen her before, heard stories maybe; now finally they dared to venture out to try and pick her up.

And there she was, right where the frat boys knew she’d be; Alex, standing casually behind the polished wood bar like she owned the place. Her blood-red hair was the first thing that caught the eye, a wild, spiraling river of crimson that cascaded over her left shoulder in a deliberate, messy tumble. It stood out against her pale skin, which she exposed in every way possible without actually crossing the line into indecency; though she flirted with that line constantly. She didn’t need a new tactic; this one worked just fine, over and over again.

Her cutoff jeans barely qualified as clothing, sliced so high they left little to the imagination, just frayed remnants clinging to her hips. Her V-neck shirt was another story. What might have started as a crop top now looked like it had been mauled by a beast, hanging as a thin veil that barely concealed her breasts. Tattoos snaked down her arms and across her back, intricate designs of ink weaving through her pale skin, stark against her otherwise porcelain complexion. Her body was a canvas, screaming rebellion, and danger, but the vampires? They ate it up.

With a sly smile curling at her lips, she served drinks to the vampires who prowled toward her, leaning far too close over the bar, her cleavage on full display. Her fingers brushed theirs in passing, a subtle, intimate caress here, a lingering glance there. They responded just as she expected, drinking in every calculated gesture, every soft word she offered. But when humans approached, her demeanor shifted, her gaze turned cold, her replies curt and dismissive. She’d toss their drinks down with little care, clearly eager to send them packing. Humans didn’t belong here, and she made sure they knew it. Not because she hated them… the opposite in fact.

I walked up to the bar, connecting eyes with her about halfway through the crowd of customers. My black eyes showed no emotion or amusement. She eyed me intently as I walked to my usual table deep in the recesses of the bar. She didn’t make a move, didn’t even acknowledge me. She just watched me as I passed by her. I heard her sigh, and then stop what she was doing. She grabbed a glass and then started pouring a pitcher of beer.

I sat out of sight of other patrons, melding into the shadows of the low-lit bar. I waited, knowing she’d come eventually. I needed to speak with her… with Martin. I needed to see if either of them had any information. Anything I could use to lure out something from the pits, to grab attention from below, while still remaining subtle enough to not bring anything down on the Chasse family.

I heard the usual clink of glasses and the small vial of yellow powder in her hands as she walked the pitcher over to me. She kept her sultry mask on until she was out of sight of the rest of the people. Then, her face hardened.

“What do you want? Why’d you come here?” her face was cold.

“To talk. Is Martin here?” I asked.

She nodded, placing her pitcher of beer down. “He is. But I wanted to talk to you first.” She settled into the booth across from me. Her body teased its intricacies and enticement as she moved in the seat, her clothes too revealing.

“About what?” I asked.

“Autumn and Patrick,” she stated plainly.

I gritted my teeth at her words, the thoughts I struggled to hide and not think about surfaced. I felt a sigh come out of me involuntarily, even the Primeval was sore about the subject. I wondered if that was because we were becoming more intertwined.

“I've been watching them. Keeping an eye on Patrick and what he's been up to. To see if maybe there was some truth to what you were saying,” she explained. She had a look on her face that dared me to say something snarky.

I smirked, trying to maintain my composure, but I really wanted to just piss her off. “So, it looks like you finally opened your eyes.”

“Listen asshole, I didn't have to look at shit. I could just keep to myself and not stick my neck out for you.” She huffed angrily. Her voice rose a little but she brought it back down, knowing she didn't truly want anyone else inside the bar to hear our conversation.

My smile faded, and I got more serious. I knew she was right, and she didn't have to do anything to help me out. But this was, in her own way, helping me. It surprised me as well. I didn’t expect this from her.

“What did you see?” I asked her, trying to make some kind of peace between us.

She smiled villainously, pleased that she was able to get me to bend to her will in some way, even if it was just not being such a smart-ass. “From what I can tell, Patrick Wicklow is as normal as can be. I haven't seen any signs that he is anything like Peter Grimwood. He isn't using any sort of strange power, he's not slipping in and out of the physical world, nothing. Honestly, the boy is a bit of a fuck up. His aunt, that strange woman... Shelta?” Alex had this questioning look like for some reason, she couldn't place the name or maybe she just thought it was strange. “Whatever, his aunt has been trying to train him to use his power better, like the rest of their family. But that boy is just not a natural.”

“How do you mean?” I asked. I started smiling again, not to antagonize Alex, but the information she was telling me was entertaining. Just knowing that Patrick was out there unable to perform any feats that were literally written in his blood, made me giddy on the inside.

“Yeah, I thought you’d like that.” She grinned slightly at my amusement. “He just doesn’t really seem to care about his heritage. But that’s not why I wanted to talk.” Alex shifted in her seat, inching closer across the table. Her voice dropped to a whisper, the kind meant to avoid being overheard, even by Martin. She leaned in so close… so low that her breath brushed my skin, but as she did, her loose-fitting shirt slipped down and forward, revealing far more of her cleavage than before. Her breasts were nearly on full display, the soft fabric barely containing them. I wasn’t sure if she was aware of how much she was showing or if she was testing me, gauging my reaction.

The monster stirred beneath my skin, a slow, burning pulse that crawled from the back of my throat into my teeth, setting them on edge. I felt my eyes darken, the blackness creeping deeper, threatening to spill out and let the Primeval run wild. I couldn’t tell if it was the beast’s need to kill… or something else. Whatever it was, it gnawed at me. My body tensed, the heat simmering in my jaw, but I forced myself to shake it off, pushing the sensation down before it got worse.

I dragged my eyes away from the temptation before me and locked onto her eyes instead. Her gaze held mine, and I stared back, fighting to keep control as she began to speak again. Her words felt distant for a moment, drowned out by the pulse of my own darkened thoughts, but I focused… barely.

“As I've been watching Autumn and Patrick… Patrick seems like the normal one. It's Autumn who is acting strange,” she said the words carefully.

I perked up, a little nervous at what she could possibly mean. The worst-case scenarios that I could concoct in about two seconds started playing through my head. I hoped that whatever she was about to say was not going to be one of those ideas... “What do you mean?”

“She seems distant from her family. I've seen her with Patrick more than I've seen her with her mom and dad. For a girl of her standing and everything I know about her through Martin or my own snooping, her actions do not fit her. She really seems like a different person... her, definitely still her… just different.”

“Just because she's spending a lot of time with him?” I asked. I hoped there was more, prayed there would be more, just to validate the fears I had about that series of images I saw once I finally was given Peter Grimwood's name and the visions that accompanied it. I didn’t want anything to be wrong with Autumn, but I wanted desperately to know that what she had done… throwing me away like she had… that there was something else going on. None of it made sense.

“It's not just the time,” Alex said. “It's her attitude.. her personality. I was outside of her family home the other day, listening to an argument between Carter, Eleanor, and Autumn. Her parents didn't understand why she was not enrolling in classes next semester. From what I gathered it sounds like she's completely giving up on school.”

I shifted in my seat, leaning forward, closer to her as my interest peaked. “She wouldn't do that. From everything I knew of her... what I thought I knew of her, she loved going to college. She loved biology and learning about how all the stuff works.”

“All that stuff..?” Alex mockingly repeated as she looked into me wide-eyed. “I can tell you're definitely no college boy.” She laughed for a little too long. Then she mocked me in her best country accent, or as close as she could imitate, “All that dang-ole stuff inside ya guts and whatnot.”

I just stared at her for a second, honestly a little surprised at the sudden humor in her voice. Although I had to admit it didn't feel good getting talked down to like I was some country bumpkin who couldn't even speak the English language. She wasn't laughing at my voice, but my intellect. “You’re right, I didn't go to college, so I don't know what the fuck you want from me. But you know what I mean, she was into it. College meant a lot to her.”

Alex rolled her eyes, “Jeez lighten up, I'm just fucking with you. I never went to college either so I can't talk too much.” She laughed at herself, thinking her jokes were more funny than they were.

She leaned back, her neckline angling away from me so it was harder to see down her cleavage. She ran her fingers through her hair scratching her scalp with both hands in a way that seemed to soothe her. She breathed quietly and then turned her head back toward the bar and shot daggers towards someone.

I hadn't been paying attention, so I never heard them walk up, but a human male had squeaked over and was looking for the sultry bartender. He had found her hidden in the back with me. When he saw me, he stopped in his tracks. I was unsure if he caught a glimpse of my black eyes, or if it was just the aura from the Primeval that rested in my bones. As soon as he looked away from me and back towards Alex, his drunkenness and borrowed courage helped him regain himself.

“Oh, there you are. I was just hoping to find you and get a drink…” he was cut off.

“Customers are not allowed back here,” Alex said sternly. She hopped up from the booth and paced right up to him. Her long red hair fell behind her as she swayed up to the unsuspecting human. I could feel her surge her blood through her body, just enough to put a little bit of menace in her eyes. I think she was trying to scare him, not just away, but out of the bar entirely.

Alex smiled darkly, “I'll get you a drink when I'm done back here.” She leered at him, trying to get rid of this drunk douche.

He nodded in a very agreeable manner, trying to smooth things over with the attractive redhead. I could tell he hoped he hadn’t hurt his chances. I don't know if he was trying to ignore the murderous power she had exuded, or if he was just blind to it from the combination of alcohol and the way Alex looked in sparse clothes, baring all her assets.

As Alex watched the guy scurry back to his table of friends, I couldn’t help but laugh to myself. I looked her up and down; her whole look was clearly designed to catch the eye of young male vampires, who were always driven by their lustful urges. She knew exactly how to get their attention. But the funny part was, it worked just as well on human men, even though that was the last thing she wanted. She had to deal with them all the time, even though they were definitely not her target.

Her shorts barely covered anything. Her ass was maybe half an inch away from hanging out completely, and I was sure whenever she bent over to grab something, both vampires and humans were getting a good view. The low-cut top she wore didn’t help either; her chest was practically spilling out, and every move she made just drew more eyes. It was no surprise guys kept getting the wrong idea.

But that was the downside of her plan. She wanted to lure in vampires, but humans couldn’t help themselves, thinking her act was for them. She had to deal with that mess constantly. Dudes who thought her flirting meant something more. And by the look of it, she was over it, handling them with cold stares and barely any interest, just trying to get them out of her way.

“Do you really have to dress like that?” I asked, not trying to start an argument, but actually curious.

Alex spun back around on me pretty quickly, a flare of something in her eyes. The only thing I could compare it to would be the phrase... ‘What the fuck did you just say?’

“Why is the way I dress any concern of yours?” She spoke like she had a knife in her hand and was about to stab me in the face.

I smiled and shook my head, “I'm just saying, you obviously don't want all the attention. Isn't there some way to deter the humans… and only target the ones you want?” I asked specifically, trying to let her understand that I could see what she was doing… I could spot her method.

Her incredulous look that dared me to keep talking faded. She walked back over to my booth and plopped back down in front of me, ignoring the service she probably needed to get back to behind the bar.

“Actually, since you’re so fucking interested…” Alex huffed, her lips curling into a sly grin. “I’ve run a few experiments over the years working here with Martin.” She paused, her eyes narrowing as if searching for the right word. “The… sluttier I dress, the more I attract and lure out young vampires. It’s all tied to their new, hungry nature. Their bloodlust and intense urges… it doesn’t just make them want to feed. It heightens their sexual desires too. The newer they are, the more intense it gets.”

She leaned back, explaining this with a slow, methodical tone like she was teaching a lesson. “But it’s not just that. My nature as an anthropophagus vampire makes me different from them. They can sense it, something just off enough that they’re intrigued. It’s like they feel this mystery they need to solve, this puzzle that I present to them; something similar but not exactly like them.” Her words were laced with years of experience, her knowledge accumulated from living in this life far longer than most.

“And believe it or not,” she continued, leaning forward again, “the way I dress actually deters more humans than you’d think. When I tone it down, and dress more modestly, sure, vampires still come onto me, but not nearly as many. Instead, I end up with more humans hitting on me. It's like the humans aren’t as intimidated by my normal clothes. But when I go all out, the more outlandish and skanky I dress, the better it works for what I’m trying to do.” She smirked, clearly proud of the strategy she’d refined over time. “Most of you boys are too scared to go for it with someone that dresses like this,” she waved her hand up and down her toned, exposed body.

I nodded slowly, realizing that she was much more than just some seductive figure using her body to lure vampires. There was a sharp mind behind every choice she made, each action carefully calculated to get the results she wanted. It was impressive, really. She wasn’t just surviving as this offshoot breed of vampire, she was mastering the art of it, crunching numbers in her own way, and perfecting her craft. I had never really thought about it like that before, but now, I saw it.

Then, with a mischievous glint in her eye, she tried to catch me off guard. She placed her hands on her breasts, squeezing her tits together, pushing them up provocatively. “What’s wrong with the way I dress, Sam? Don’t you like how I look?” Her voice dripped with mock innocence as her blood-red eyes darkened, a flicker of power coursing through her body. I could feel it… the same energy she used to overwhelm those young vampires, pushing their buttons, testing their limits. She was aiming it at me.

I felt the monster inside me stir, clawing at its cage, squeezing the bars like it was trying to break free. My teeth started to burn, the pressure building as my fangs tried to push their way out. I could feel my eyes darkening, the blackness creeping in until they were pitch-black pools, locked onto hers. But I didn’t give her the satisfaction of a reaction. I kept my face neutral, and calm, like nothing she did phased me.

But the truth was, my human side was struggling. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t at least a little enticed by her. She knew exactly what she was doing, and part of me couldn’t help but feel drawn to it. That primal urge was there, lurking just beneath the surface, begging to let go. But I forced it down, choking it back before it could take control. My body screamed to react, but I wouldn’t let it show.

Her smile faded, and the glow in her eyes dimmed back to their usual shade. “You're no fun,” she muttered, but there was something softer in her voice, almost like the words were just a reflex. She glanced down at the table, her fingers tracing the grain of the wood for a moment. It was slow like maybe she regretted pushing too far. I watched as she took a small breath, the slightest hint of hesitation, and then she looked back up at me, her eyes meeting mine again.

“Lighten up, Sam,” she said, forcing a small smile. “I’m just messing with you.” But there was an undercurrent there, something more vulnerable than she wanted to show. “I haven’t had friends in a long time, so this… all of this… it’s kind of new to me. In a way.”

The words hung between us, and for a moment, it felt like she was admitting more than just that. Maybe she was letting a piece of her guard down, trying to connect in a way she didn’t know how to anymore.

“What do you mean, what about Martin? I thought you guys were friends,” I asked her, trying to gain ground on this strange relationship that had formed somehow.

She tossed her head to the side, her blood-red hair cascading over her shoulder as she poured herself a drink. With a practiced motion, she sprinkled in some yellow dust, just the kick she needed to take the edge off. “We are friends,” she said, her voice steady, but there was a hint of something deeper. “But he’s more like a father to me, always trying to teach me the best ways to do things. Learn from his mistakes, sort of thing. If I’m being honest… it’s hard to relate to Martin.”

“How do you mean?” I asked, genuinely interested.

She paused, and the weight of her words settled in the air between us. “He’s killed innocent people… a long time ago, but he has done it. Now he’s... reformed.” She glanced away, her gaze drifting to the wall beside our booth, her expression clouded. “I always have that in the back of my mind, and it keeps me aware of his capabilities. I know he’ll never go back to what he was… but it lingers there. If we’d met in another time… I would have killed him.”

I leaned in closer, drawn into her honesty. “You’ve never killed anyone who didn’t deserve it?”

She shook her head slowly, her voice lowering. “Almost always vampires, but I’ve killed humans too. Only those humans who were trying to become vampires themselves, luring others into the jaws of some filthy leech. I don’t feed from them… never!” She spat at the thought. “I just end them. I don’t let their blood touch me. I only drink from vampires.”

I nodded, absorbing the gravity of her words, unsure why she was sharing this part of herself with me all of a sudden. “Why are you being so honest with me?”

Her red eyes gazed into me, accenting her blood-toned hair as she sat there. “I think… you remind me of me,” she continued, her eyes suddenly brightening with an earnestness that caught me off guard. “From what Martin has told me about you… you didn’t choose this life. This was shoved upon you. Your life was stolen… you lost… people… family. You kill killers, people who take too much from this world, both human and monster alike.” A genuine smile spread across her face. “I can get on board with that!”

I chuckled, a little confused about where the conversation was headed. “Thanks… I guess. The more the merrier I suppose.”

“I’m just saying, I consider you… a friend.” She struggled with the words, almost as if they were foreign to her.

“Well…” I laughed, the sound escaping before I could stop it. “You could have fooled me.” I didn’t mean to come off as an asshole, but it was honestly the first thing that popped into my head after she said it.

Fortunately, she laughed too, her grin full of amusement. “Like I said, this is all new for me. I haven’t been friendly with people in a long time. Before I knew too much about you, I just figured you were some other asshole I’d end up killing eventually.” Her laughter filled the space between us, and for a moment, the tension faded. “But now? I don’t think I have to worry about that anymore.”

Then her expression shifted, growing serious as she gathered her thoughts. “Although… there are things I think you shouldn’t do. Lines you’re toeing way too closely.”

“Oh yeah?” I shot back, a hint of defensiveness creeping in, but I was still curious. “What’s that, oh wise one?”

Her tone turned unapologetic. “You were getting too close to Autumn, anyway.”

Her words landed like a punch to the gut, catching me completely off guard. “Too close?” I repeated, disbelief creeping into my voice.

“You know what I mean,” she said firmly. “She’s human… you’re not! Don’t pretend you can have a normal life just because some girl’s looking at you with doe eyes. You’re a fucking monster… just like me! We didn’t ask for this, but it’s a fact you can’t change.”

I fell silent for a moment, her words hanging in the air like an unshakable truth. I had expected something different from her, not this aggressive stance on something that had meant so much to me. Why did she think her opinion mattered to me?

“So what am I supposed to do then? Stay alone… be miserable for the rest of my shitty life?” I challenged her, feeling a mix of frustration and desperation. “Is that what’s right?”

“That’s what I’ve done,” she said, her voice steady and unwavering. “I’ve felt the same urge to connect with someone… someone who could make me feel human again. But I knew it wasn’t right. I knew what I was. I’m a vampire… and I’m not what an innocent human being needs to be tied to. Look what they did to me… what they did to my friends… to my family. I am them now… I am a blood-drinking vampire. Why would I drag someone else into this fucked up curse?”

Her conviction echoed in the space between us, each word charged with a painful wisdom. I could see it in her eyes… the depth of her understanding, the weight of her choices; and I couldn’t shake the feeling that she was speaking from experience. Like maybe she had actually done something like what I had been doing with Autumn.

I looked at her for a moment, really thinking about what her life must be like. Her words pissed me off, but when I thought about my current situation, her words really didn’t matter. Autumn had smartened up and cast me aside. She was not tied to me anymore, her actions made that all too clear. I smirked, trying not to dwell on her words since they didn’t matter anyway. “Well… if everything is as you say… Patrick is normal, Autumn is happy… safe… then I don’t matter to her anyway. I told her a while back that if she ever wanted me gone, to just say the word. I guess this was it.”

Just then, Martin strode out from the front of the bar, his brow furrowed in a way that suggested he was lost in thought. He scanned the room, and when his gaze landed on Alex and me nestled in our shadowy booth, a flicker of recognition crossed his face.

“Sam… Alex… what is going on?” Martin asked his tone a mix of curiosity and concern.

Alex was quick to respond, her voice brightening as if she hadn’t just been discussing something serious. “Oh, we were just chatting about Autumn and Patrick.” She reached down into the booth, before pulling out a small green hairbrush. It gleamed under the dim light, a striking color that seemed almost out of place in the bar's gritty atmosphere. My heart raced as I recognized it instantly. This was the very same brush I had seen in the vision granted by Death. The one Patrick had received from Peter Grimwood, the dark gypsy who met his end at Death’s hands.

“You have it?” I blurted out, disbelief coloring my voice. I couldn’t believe she hadn’t mentioned it before now. “Why didn’t you tell me you had it?”

Alex shrugged, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips. “I figured I’d let you stew in your thoughts a little longer,” she teased, but the glint in her eyes faded as she added, “But like I said, Patrick and Autumn seem healthy, safe, and for the most part… normal.”

I leaned forward, urgency flooding my senses. “But what about Autumn? Is she really okay?”

Alex’s expression shifted slightly as she considered my question. “She is acting a bit strange, like I explained,” she admitted, biting her lip as if weighing her words. “But it’s nothing that screams dark spells or ancient magic. Honestly, it feels more like she’s just going through some phase of life… like she’s rebelling. She seems… very smitten with Patrick.” She knew her words would affect me in a way. But I also got the feeling she was trying to keep some of what we spoke about away from Martin. As if this was the first I had heard of this.

I guess, in some way… we really were friends.

Martin shifted his weight, clearly intrigued. “Rebelling? What do you mean?”

“She’s been a little more reckless lately,” Alex explained, tucking a strand of red hair behind her ear. “But it feels like typical actions of a young girl. You know how it goes—trying to find her own way, pushing boundaries. How long has she been hunting… doing exactly what the family wants her to do.”

I exchanged a glance with Martin, both of us unsettled but relieved that there wasn’t an immediate threat. Yet, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something deeper was brewing beneath the surface.

“After I started keeping an eye on them, I noticed Patrick practically drooling over this brush,” Alex said, a hint of pride in her voice. “So, I swiped it. I knew it had to be the one you mentioned. The next day, he seemed way more frantic, but that vibe cooled down after a while, and he’s been fine since.”

“It’s the same one… the brush from the vision,” I said, my heart racing as I reached for it. Alex handed it to me without hesitation.

The plastic green handle felt slick against my palm, almost cool to the touch. As I turned it over, I noticed dark brown hairs twisted and woven into the bristles—remnants of Autumn. I found myself staring at it, feeling a strange mix of connection and unease. It felt… ordinary. No remnants of the supernatural world clung to it, no aura of darkness. It was just a brush.

“Maybe we should have someone examine it?” Martin suggested, his brow furrowing with thought. “What about Shelta? If anyone can sniff out any lingering traces of Peter, it’s her. Even if Patrick is tied to it.” His voice held a confident edge. “Can I take it to her?” He looked to Alex, then to me, waiting for an answer.

I glanced at Alex, who nodded in approval. With a sigh of resignation, I slowly handed the brush to Martin, my hopes resting on his ability to confirm that this item held no power. I wanted to believe that all of Peter’s influence was gone, reduced to nothing.

Martin examined the brush with a careful eye, searching for something… anything that could hint at its past. But as the seconds ticked by in the heavy silence, I felt a growing sense of dread. After what felt like an eternity, Martin finally broke the silence. “You came to see me, Sam?” he asked, his tone shifting, curiosity piqued.

I swallowed hard, caught off guard by the question. What was I really here for?

My black eyes glimmered like obsidian under the flickering neon signs above, but Martin didn’t mention them. Instead, he offered a simple nod, as if acknowledging the change without needing to speak it.

“How have you been?” Marin started, knowing much more than he let on.

“Doing alright, considering,” I replied, trying to brush off the heaviness that clung to me. “Just trying to navigate this new... situation,” I spoke of the severed relationship between Autumn and me.

Martin studied me for a moment, his brow furrowing slightly. “I heard about the massacre of that vampire group near St. Charles,” he said, his voice low. “Pretty brutal stuff. You involved?”

I nodded. “I thought that was implied. I let some go just so they could go down below and call out the big guns.”

He looked at me for a second longer, and I could feel his concern weighing on the air between us. “It will… in time. I do know they went below… at least one of them. It’s not some quick reaction. These things take time. If the elders sent a pack of immortals to hunt after every infraction, they‘d out themselves to the world. It may take… I hate to say it… more. However, as soon as I get ahold of Charles, I will let you know. Maybe I can even set up something between the two of you… get you what you want without too much bloodshed.”

His words rubbed me the wrong way… the monster too. I knew what he meant, but part of me didn’t like the way he said it. Those fuckers needed to die.

His gaze softened, and he shifted slightly, crossing his arms. “You and Alex seem pretty friendly these days. Didn’t think she was the type to warm up to anyone.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “Trust me, I thought the same thing. Just a few weeks ago, I was pretty sure she wanted me dead.”

Martin laughed, the sound rich and warm, cutting through the tension. “Guess she’s good at hiding her feelings.”

“Yeah, you could say that.” I shrugged, the memory of our earlier conversations and shared amusement and antagonistic banter washing over me. “It’s kind of nice to see this side of her. I didn’t know she had it in her.”

He nodded, his expression turning serious again. “She’s been through a lot. Just like you.”

“Yeah,” I said, feeling the gravity of our shared experiences hanging in the air. “But I think we’re both figuring it out in our own ways.” She held many different views than I did.

“How are Carter and Eleanor?” I asked, changing the subject slightly. “They doing okay?”

“Yeah, they’re good,” Martin replied, “all things considered. They’re just trying to navigate this situation with Autumn. Lots of internal family stuff. They’ve asked about you, actually. Wondering if I’ve seen you.”

I felt a warmth spread through me at the thought. “That’s nice to hear. I should reach out to them.”

“Definitely. They’d love to hear from you… even if things are… different.” Martin paused as he hinted at Autumn. He sighed, unfortunately. “And, you’re always welcome here.”

The words settled over me, a comforting reminder in a world that often felt overwhelming. I nodded, appreciating the moment of connection between us. “Thanks, Martin. That means a lot.”

“Anytime, Sam,” he said, the warmth returning to his eyes. “Now, let’s get you a drink. I think we could both use one.”

Once I finished drifting around the backrooms of Martin’s bar, I started leaving. The frat boys were still there, leering at Alex from across the room. They might cause her a problem. Not that she couldn’t handle them, but they were innocent… annoying, and absolute dumbasses, but innocent nonetheless. I thought about scaring them off, just to make it easier on her. But then… I didn’t want to take away her fun. I paced up to her at the bar where she stood, polishing glasses again.

She glanced up at my sight, carrying on our conversation from earlier like it hadn’t been interrupted. “Let me ask you something… why are your eyes black? It’s never been like this before… you look like you’re on the verge of… coming out… if you know what I mean.”

I focused, trying to pull back the blackness that swallowed my naturally blue eyes. It faded for a moment but then swallowed them whole again. “I don’t know. I think I’m blending more with this thing. The more I learn about it, the more it feels like I’m not just me anymore.”

She nodded slowly, seeming like she knew some kind of similarity to what I was saying. Maybe she struggled against her inner demon more than I realized as well.

“Remember what I said,” she warned, her gaze locking onto mine with a fierce intensity that could have sent a shiver down my spine in a previous life. “You and me… we are fucking monsters!”

Her eyes flared a deep crimson, a fiery reminder of the power surging through her veins, illuminating the darkness that lurked within us. The air thickened with an electric tension, charged by our shared reality; a truth I struggled to deny. My own black eyes reflected her ferocity, swirling pools of void that mirrored the abyssal prison within me. The place the Primeval… Myoordrakien slumbered.

In that charged silence, we stood as two beings forged from the same dark world, bound by an understanding that transcended words. A pulse of raw energy throbbed between us, a reminder of the different monstrous natures we had embraced, and in that moment, I couldn’t deny it. We were monsters. Killers of killers.

With a nod, I turned and strode toward the front door, the weight of our new connection heavy on my shoulders. I stepped into the night, the world outside swirling with shadows and snow.