Chapter One: To Satisfy His Hunger

She seemed to do this a lot – to simply prowl the streets at night, keeping her eyes peeled for any parahumans that might be looking for a snack. It was her job to find and kill them, and it was a job she loved. For Natalia St. James, there was nothing more satisfying than beheading a vampire and tossing the burning remains in a dumpster, or pumping a few of the silver, custom-made, 9mm bullets out of her Beretta and into a werewolf skull. She refused to believe that a deep love of her job made her bloodthirsty, because bloodthirsty was how you described the sub-humans, the creatures she’d sworn to eliminate, and she would never sink to their level. She didn’t endanger anybody worth saving.

That night, rather than hunt, as she’d come to call it, she decided to play the victim route. She was in the mood for a little deception, and so when she’d left her dilapidated apartment building ten minutes earlier, she’d pulled her hair up into a messy bun at the back of her head, exposing the pale, tender skin of her neck via the low-cut tank she wore, and threw on her headphones, MP3 player tucked into the back pocket of her worn jeans. To compensate for the sinking temperature as the air adjusted to lack of sun, she threw on a faux military-style jacket, slipping a combat knife up the right sleeve to rest snugly against her skin.

He didn’t look any older than, maybe, twenty. But, in this town, how old you looked didn’t really count for much.

Natty slowed to a stop at the mouth of the alley a few blocks from her apartment, her navy blue eyes focused on the figure slumped against the bricks. He glanced up, into the glass of the building closest to him, and her gaze narrowed. It took her exactly three seconds to identify him as a vampire, but she still considered that time a little on the slow side. She’d trained for years for this, honing the ability to identify paras on sight, and this one gave her even momentary pause? She’d have to spend the next few days re-sharpening her skills. This would not do.

The pale tone of his skin and the way he looked ready to throw up next to a building full of human food made her think full vamp. This should be fun.

Fixing her expression into one of tentative concern, she took a few steps toward him, reaching up to gently remove the ear bud headphones from her ears. “Hey, are you okay?” she asked.

He whirled toward her, but seemed to calm when he identified her. He didn’t find her threatening.

“You… you startled me.”

She arched one sleek, dark brow.

He genuinely seemed to be taken off guard by her sudden appearance, and while she usually prided herself on her ability to be stealthy, when she was being deceptive as she was right now, she didn’t bother to disguise her steps. What was the point of acting as bait if the catch couldn’t hear you? So this vamp had to be pretty out of it not to hear her approach, with his acute hearing. She didn’t frown, but her lips pursed slightly in thought for a split second before she remembered she was supposed to be a cute, clueless young woman.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she insisted, tucking her headphones, and the sound of the Goo Goo Dolls, into her pocket with the MP3 player. He lifted a hand, ruffling his hair.

She couldn’t see the colour of his eyes – she couldn’t actually see his eyes at all – but she could feel it when his gaze flickered over her, taking in her appearance. She could feel the blood hovering under her skin from her brisk walk, keeping her warm in spite of the cool air surrounding her, but her natural athleticism stopped her body from reacting any more than that. The wind would’ve made her hair a little messier than she’d intended it, but that didn’t particularly matter. And a particularly insolent werewolf had once told her that she smelled like cinnamon and vanilla. She imagined the wind was helping this vampire make the same observation.

“What are you doing here at this time of night?” he asked, tucking his hands into his jacket. “Don’t you know what kinds of things hang out here?”

If she’d been the type of person who cared, she might have found it rude that he ignored her concern for his health. But you couldn’t expect a parahuman to abide by society’s laws of courtesy. That would just be ignorant.

She laughed lightly. “What are you, my father?” She took a step toward him, her head cocking slightly to the right. “I’m a big girl,” Natty assured. “I can handle myself.” A ghost of a smile quirked at his lips.

With a practiced motion, her right hand drew up into the sleeve of her jacket as though she were cold. The handle of the combat knife slid down the length of her forearm, coming to rest gently in her fingertips. She cupped it, not withdrawing just yet. “You sure you’re okay? You look like you could use a Gravol.”

He chuckled, but given his weakened state, she found it forced. “I’m feeling much better now, actually.” She didn’t believe him.

Inside her sleeve, her grip tightened around the handle of the knife, readying it to be withdrawn and plunged into his neck.

“I just… I need to get something to eat soon.”

Her eyes narrowed reflexively, although her lips tugged into an almost seductive half-smile. She arched her neck slightly, tilting her head back to look up at him as she took another step forward, officially planting herself within striking distance.

As if on cue, his stomach growled, and she very nearly rolled her eyes. He gave a little half-embarrassed laugh.

She would have been stupid not to consider him a threat, and, contrary to whatever her past might indicate, Natalia was anything but stupid. He could make all the cutesy little noises he want, but she still managed to suppress the slight wash of comfort that threatened to dismantle her offence. What the hell was wrong with her? She wasn’t stupid. He was a threat, no matter how unthreatening he might seem. He had teeth sharpened to fine points, ready to pierce her skin so her blood could flow freely into his waiting mouth. Just because he smiled and chuckled and acted kind of cute didn’t make him any different than the unsubtle, perverse bloodsuckers who used come-ons to make themselves look cool.

She hesitated only a split second before attacking. It happened so fast, she almost didn’t remember doing it. One second, she was standing in front of him, and the next, he was pressed flat against the brick, her left hand grasping his shirt roughly and her right pressing the blade of the combat knife against the alabaster skin of his jugular.

“Having any cravings in particular, bloodsucker?” she posted rhetorically.

“Slayer.” At least he wasn’t completely stupid. “I should have known.” He really should have. “At least you’re not nearly as good as the last slayer I dealt with.”

The hell she wasn’t.

She got a little reckless sometimes. She knew that. She was somewhat careless with her life, and she was certain that any one of the FBI’s fabulously trained psychiatric professionals would be happy to offer her some theories about it, but she’d rather not have to deal with any version of the modern day Doctor Phil. Natty was perfectly content with her pseudo creature of the night lifestyle, sleeping all day, occasionally going to a meeting at head office, and staying up all night to rid the streets of New Orleans of all manner of unpleasant being. She liked killing evil things, psychology be damned.

His hand flew across his chest to take hold of her wrist, his grip unyielding. The heel of his foot hammered into her ankle and her knee gave out. She sank slightly under her own weight, pulling her arm taught in his fingers. She winced slightly, but didn’t cry out. And then he growled a threat, his voice low and menacing.

“Drop it, or I’ll break your hand off.”

It was quite a contrast from the man he’d been just twenty seconds earlier. At the sound, she felt a familiar tingle low in her abdomen and her lips twisted into an appreciative smirk. Refusing to acknowledge it any more than that, she obediently dropped the knife. It clattered to the pavement below.

Natalia would never know what about the smirk on her face made him think it was a good idea to let her go, but he did. His grip on her wrist relaxed entirely. It wasn’t a fraction of a second later that she’d pulled the second of her three combat knifes from the holster on her shoulder, under the jacket, using her right hand to jerk his arm around. He flew away from the brick wall and she twisted his arm behind him, forcing his wrist up between his shoulder blades. This time with her left hand, she held the blade to his throat. Her pressure was slightly less than normal. Any other vamp, and she’d have been pressing hard enough with the point to draw a little blood. Another detail she wouldn’t be acknowledging.

“I sure hope this isn’t you at your best, vampire,” she teased, standing on her toes to position her lips a breath away from his ear. “Because, I gotta tell you,” she whispered, “this is kind of pathetic.”

Her careful grip pressed the blade against his skin, letting him feel the cold metal there.

“You’re a lot faster than I thought you’d be,” he admitted. “But I’m not a vampire.”

“Yeah, right,” she agreed in a blatantly sarcastic tone. He wasn’t a vampire. And she was a nun. They were in a convent right now. “Tell that to your fangs, Dracula.”

“I'm not even doing anything!” he said, voice more frantic. She was getting through to him now. “You're a slayer. You're not supposed to attack anything unless they're blatantly breaking the law - which I wasn’t doing. So please, lady, come on. I'm dying here.”

At this, she snorted and countered chipperly with, “Loitering’s a crime.” But still, she felt the muscles of her mouth tug into a purse of hesitation. Her grip on his arm loosened slightly, giving him a tad of wiggle room so that his wrist was no longer on the verge of snapping. Another moment’s hesitation and she twirled him around, pressing his back once again to the dark red brick. This time, the knife skittered up to the corner of his eye.

“One wrong move, and you’re gonna need a parrot and a peg leg.” Her fingers curled around his wrist, pressing it against the brick as well, and she was acutely aware of how freely his other was hanging, ready to grab her and strangle. “Talk,” she ordered. “Explain.”

She felt his body tense, afraid to move for fear she’d pluck his eye out.

“I'm... I'm a hybrid.” His eyes met hers, and she trained her expression to be as neutral as possible. “Dhampir. Half human, half vampire.”

“I know what a dhampir is,” she snapped impatiently.

Honestly. Did he think she was an amateur? His gaze flickered up to the sky and, though she moved the point of the knife a few millimeters more away from his eye, her grip on his wrist tightened. He must think she was pretty stupid if he expected her to believe this. As though he were the first sub-human to use the ‘I’m a half-breed’ excuse to try to get out of decapitation. She’d never fallen for it before, and if he thought she’d fall for it this time, he was crazy.

”I know it sounds crazy.”

Natty rolled her eyes. His stomach gave another gurgle, and, for a second, she glanced down at it. He sounded hungry, but she really doubted he was craving a burger.

“I can prove it to you. I can eat human food. I can stand the sunlight. Please.”

“Seems we’re at something of an impasse,” she observed, her tone almost teasing. “Seeing as how it’s the middle of the night, and you’re about to pass out.” That ruled out sunlight. And, in her experience, vampires weren’t averse to suggesting proof that couldn’t be proven right that second. If it succeeded, it tended to buy them a few more hours of unlife.

Then again, there was an eatery of some sort right next to them. Maybe that was a solution. Vampires couldn’t eat human food. It made them violently sick. Then again, he looked ready to be violently sick all on his own. She probably wasn’t helping, with the jerking him around and trying to slit his throat. “All right,” Natalia started, eyeing him with blatant suspicion. “Let’s go.” Using the hand on his collar as a means of steering him, she pushed him toward the opening of the alley.

She urged him toward the door, quickly noticing the workers inside bustling to get cleaned up for the night. But the sign on the door said they didn’t close for ten more minutes. All-night eatery her ass. It was almost midnight. That wasn’t all night. Ridiculously false advertising.

The brunette let her companion open the door, and they stepped inside, Natalia quickly stowing her combat knife up her sleeve. No need to frighten the waitress. “Sorry,” she insisted, an apologetic smile on her face. “We don’t mean to be a bother, but my friend here is diabetic, and his blood sugar is getting pretty low. Nowhere else is open. Do you think we could get a couple burgers? We’ll be quick, I promise.”

“Oh, yeah,” the waitress said, eyeing the vamp with some concern. “Is he okay?”

Quietly, from her left, she heard, “This place smells.” Her lips quirked in suppressed amusement.

“He’ll be fine. Just… try to rush those burgers? He likes his rare.” Her smile turned ironic, but the waitress was already turned around, instructing the chef. Natty turned to her prisoner. “So, have a seat. Get comfortable. If it turns out you’re lying, then this’ll be your last meal.”

He ignored her for almost a full minute before he hesitantly slid into one of the booths. She waited until he did to sit down across from him, folding her hands on the table top. After a few minutes of pregnant silence, the waitress returned and dropped a basket of food in front of each of them.

Natalia ignored her own food rather blatantly, instead choosing to observe as the vampire straightened in posture, his mouth pursing in an expression of disgust as he stared down at the greasy food with which he’d been presented. He obviously didn’t want to eat it. But ‘didn’t want to’ wasn’t the same as ‘couldn’t’.

Her eyes narrowed in irritation as he lifted the bun off the top of the burger and began to flick off all the toppings. Finally, he replaced it, lifted the hamburger to his mouth, and took a healthy bite.

She stared. It might have been somewhat voyeuristic of her, but it was necessary. She wasn’t letting him walk out of here without at least a little reassurance that he wasn’t going to run off and chow down on the first jogger he found.

“Satisfied?” he asked, leaning back in his seat and folding his arms behind his head. She glared at him, just a little, and not for any particular reason aside from… well, the obvious.

She corrected him. “Mildly irritated.” More than a little put out, she frowned. It was all she could do not to flump back in her chair and thrust her lower lip out in a pout. She very nearly did. Instead, Natalia managed to settle for raising her chin defiantly.

“Fine,” she said, her tone distinctly clipped. She rose to her feet. “But if I ever catch you feeding off a human, I’ll kill you.” With no more farewell than that, she exited the eatery, leaving him with both a death threat and the burger tab.