Chapter two

The BloodWar had raged for thousands of years. It was born of a deep hate that had transcended time. We have forgotten what started the War, or why we forgot, but it does not matter.

The Fey are animals, bloodthirsty and devious. They thrive on the destruction of others. So it is written in the History Text, so it must be.

It is what the Old Ones told us, about how the vicious, birdlike Sirens sank any ship that dared near their island. They told of how Dragons kidnapped lovely, human princesses and killed them after taking a ransom. The Vampires, so my mother, a VampireSlayer, like myself, wandered into people's homes and cursed them with a need for blood until they were cursed by their own desire and were forbidden to enter a home uninvited.

I am Slaya.

To you, the name may seem corny and odd, but to me, that name holds my entire heritage. It shows all that I am, all that I was, and all that I will ever be. It was passed from VampireSlayer mother to child as a symbol to strike fear into the hearts of Vampires, if the nightstalkers have any.

My mother slayed Vampires while before I came and taught me how to hunt them. My father slays Dragons, and he showed me how to brave fire and ice and acid. That is my heritage.

I am a child born of the Night, with eyes that can see through the dark. I can move silently and not even the cat can hear me. I am a child of the Day, my skin does not burn easily, my bones and muscles and sinews can crack even a man's arm, and I am hardly childbearing age.

My father's family says that I over-exaggerate. They say that I should not have so much pride, for a female DragonSlayer is bait. A female DragonSlayer is used to lure the beast in, so that the males can kill it.

A female VampireSlayer is different. She attracts her prey, lures him in, and then kills him with a stake right through one of his two hearts. Needless to say, I prefer my mother's family, who pride themselves on being the ancestors of a creature as fast, sly, and cunning as the Vampires whom we hunt, but as strong and bold as a Dragon, whom Daddy hunts.

That is why I am on lonely, foggy streets of a dirty Outside city, stalking something with a glamour.

A glamour is a spell that is used to mask over evil entities and make them invisible in the good, human world. The Fey use them a lot to deceive us into going astray and following them. After generations of selective breeding, a few special Slayers can sense the glamours. I am one of them, and I am hunting.

I can smell him. A Vampire, and a strong one. He carries with him a chupacabras, the Vampire dog. The vile beasts were on the scent of something, in a manner of speaking.

Years ago, we attacked Saturnring before. We killed their queen while her egg was hatching, but the egg survived. We lost and limped back home until we were brave and strong enough to return to rid the world of the monsters. We lost again, but did more damage. Instead of merely killing the queen and leaving them to a "regent", as if they had a real social system, we forced them to send the whelp, a young Dragoness hardly my age, to the Outside for safety. With any luck, the Clan will tear itself apart, arguing whether to send a search party and whether the regent now has full power or if she is merely a stand-in.

It shall be amusing to see this happen, but it seems that they have decided on the search party and called in Vampires to help. Amusing. Very amusing.

The streets are warm and fog blows from the nearby river. Orange orbs hang from iron lamps and the shops look out onto the street with empty, dark, sightless eyes. There is a kind of park, a pavilion or town square covered with grass. It is small, and not very secluded, but the Vampire doesn't seem to worry.

He holds the chain on his glamoured beast's collar tightly and pulls his leather coat around him. Cold, I expect. His species originated in Romania, like mine, but he grew up in the warm air of Avalon.

He is a beauty by human standards in his glamour. His hair is dark and tapers to his neck. His skin is pale, but his eyes are ice blue and pierce the night like the moon. He wears a black biker jacket, or at least something our spies would have called similar, and I see the faint outline of spikes around his wrists and neck and on the chupa's collar.

The Chupa, in its glamour, is a beauty as well. Very large and wolflike, the "dog" has white fur on its legs, chest, underbelly, and the sides of its muzzle, but red fur on its back and muzzle, all the way up to its ears. Its eyes, as well, are fierce blue, but if I squint I can se that they are slitted.

A biker bad-boy and his Siberian husky. It tells me much of their personality, if such monsters have any.

He is a strong Vampire, possibly a "noble". I can tell because his glamour is strong and thick; I can hardly tell his true origins and in appearance he seems little more than the leader of the pack of bikers taking his dog on a walk.

I smirk and reach for my bow. He bends down and removes his chain from the Chupacabras' spiked collar. He stands up and hisses for the animal to go play, and it takes off like a streak of red and white lightening. Beautiful creatures, in physical appearance. Beautiful to watch, beautiful to see, beautiful to hunt, beautiful to kill.

Very beautiful to watch.

Even more beautiful to kill.

I reach for my bow, made of solid steel. Even the strings are braided strands of hairlike steel. My bow is lightweight stainless steel, too well- made to be disposable and seasoned and tempered in the blood of my mother's prey. This boy will be my first kill; his blood will be the arrow's first drink from me.

For a brief moment, I wonder if Vampires have red blood, or even if they bleed at all. I nock my arrow into the bow and pull back. My muscles pull as well, feeling the tension. I force my breath to become slow and steady, like my mother showed me. I blink slowly, waiting for the opportune time.

A noise. A car, black and white, made for speed and with whirling lights like eyes on the top. An insignia is on the side and it parks next to the Vampire. I cuss. They made me miss my chance!

The Vamp calls his Chupa back and puts it on its leash. Then they stroll together to the car. The officer inside exchanges words for a few seconds, and then climbs out of his car. The policeman then opens the door and asks the Vampire to get in.

Fool. He invites the spawn of darkness into his car so willingly. Fools, all normal humans. They cannot tell that we, the Slayers, are the only things that stand between them and a world overrun with monstrosities created in the bowls of the darkest, filthiest pits on ichor in the world. Fools, all of them. They will thank us when the Dragons, Fairies, Elves, Vampires, Pixies, Sirens, Mermaids, Centaurs, Griffins, Hippogriffs, Pegasi, Unicorns, Chupacabras, and their spawn and kin are all dead and gone and their bones are on display, shriveled and mummified, in museums.

I cuss again and put my arrow back into its quiver with its brothers and sisters and place her mother, the bow, back around the father, the quiver. The cop car pulls away and I follow it, jogging behind close enough to keep in sight, far enough back to not outdo it or to allow myself to be seen. It is often good to be bred for the hunt, the BloodWar.

My muscles scream after awhile. No amount of training can fully prepare you for the hunt, so I heard. Really, what is getting to me is the incessant relentlessness of the car. The stupid machine moves on and on without any signs of slowing or stopping, until it comes to a red-light, and then I risk being seen. It is frustrating, but I keep going until I lose my balance.

I hit the ground after I fall for what seems like a very long time. I am new at this and I am tired. I cuss, though, and resolve to try again the next night. I am angry, though. I missed my first kill to what I am supposed to protect.

I should have killed the human law enforcer. It is better to sacrifice the one to save the many. I should have killed him, and then gone after the vampire.

But then, he would have seen me, and his pet, and THEY would have come for ME!

Perhaps I was right in letting them go...but now I have lost them. I don't know if I will see them again. No matter. I will try again later.

I pick myself up off the sidewalk and retreat when I see the golden sun peeking over the horizon. It is too late to hunt Vampire anyway; I need to find a nice, safe place to sleep.

I check my pocket. Daddy gave me a fake credit card. I can use it to check into an inn. I look around to find one, and when I do so, walk toward it, yawning.

Whether I killed or not, it was still a long night and my father would say I did well for a page-girl, a trainee.