Loss was a difficult concept to deal with. It was even more so in the realm of immortals. It was rare but occasionally one of our siblings would fall during their attempts at survival.

Some simply died to the wear and tear of Capitalism, forced out of their homes and unable to hide in the shadows of a city that seemed keen to squash the impoverished. Others starved to death, unable to get connections within a blood bank or unable to effectively hunt. An unlucky few were killed, however, brutally slain.

These were the most alarming group.

Vampire hunters were a relic of the olden days, much like ourselves, but a few had persisted to the modern world. They were equipped with technology beyond our means and occasionally one of us would slip up and become their prey.

“Are you sure?” I asked.

The woman on the other side of the phone snorted. “I’m sure, Beatrice. It had to be a hunter. No regular murderer kills with a stake through the heart.”

Beatrice, my name, another relic of an olden time. Few people used that name in our modern world.

“I know, I know.” I sighed. “I just assumed that Fredrich was being careful. He’s only been taking blood from banks, right?”

“As far as I’m aware,” the other woman, Lisa, snorted. “But even if that were the case, those places are filled with cameras. And I wouldn’t be surprised if there were a few holes in their network for one of those fuckers to get through and exploit.”

“Shit,” I whispered, rubbing my temple between a forefinger and thumb. “So, we have a hunter in our city?”

“Seems so,” Lisa said. “Just thought you should know since you still hunt.”

“Thanks Lisa,” I said, shaking my head. “Jesus, this sure is a shitty situation.”

“Tell me about it,” Lisa said. “Like Fredrich was playing it pretty safe.”

“He has been hurting for money,” I replied. “Could’ve been getting sloppy because of that. I know a few of the others, who hunt, like to pawn off credit cards and shit.”

“I suppose,” Lisa said. “I don’t know, I’m just freaking out, Beatrice. Like I don’t want either of us to end up dead.”

“I’d like to avoid that too,” I said, snorting and allowing myself a tight little smile. “Have you told the others?”

“Not yet,” Lisa replied. I could hear the shake of her head. “Will probably let them know in our group chat in a little while. Just wanted to give you a heads-up just in case you were planning to pounce on a patron tonight.”

I glanced towards the stage curtain. The idea had certainly dawned on me. But if there was a hunter out there, I might’ve needed to be a little more careful.

“I appreciate the offer,” I murmured. “And I do have a little bit of blood left in my fridge. Suppose that will have to hold me over until things die down.”

“Oh, blood bags aren’t all that bad,” Lisa teased. “You get used to them after a while.”

“I just enjoy a warm meal, that's all,” I replied.

Lisa sighed. “Then heat it up on a stove or something.”

“Jesus.” I winced. “Do you have any idea how bad that would smell?”

“Just be careful, Beatrice,” Lisa warned. “I really don’t want to hear about any more of us dropping dead, alright?”

I sighed. “Alright.”

We exchanged goodbyes and with that our phone call came to an end.

I walked over to my locker and slipped my phone back inside before closing the door and locking it.

Someone cleared their throat beside me.

I instinctively tensed and looked over.

“Oh, hey Jessica,” I greeted. “How are you doing?”

“Oh, you know. Just made a hundred bucks giving some bachelor his final lap dance before marriage.” She batted her lashes at me. “But besides that? Just ready for this night to be over.”

“The night’s still young,” I teased.

“Maybe for you,” Jessica said. “But some of us need to be up at eight to take our kids to school.”

I smirked. “I don’t envy you in the slightest.”

“Eh they’re little shits but they’re my little shits,” Jessica joked. “You know, me and the girls were thinking about heading out to the beach this weekend.”

I smirked. “Is that so?”

“Yeah, and we’re wondering if you’d like to come with us?” Jessica asked.

I shook my head and said nothing more.

“Oh, come on,” Jessica whined. “You never want to hang out with us.”

“I do, I’m just more of a night owl than a day time kind of person is all.” I grinned at her. “Now if you were heading to a bar after work, I think I’d be a little more interested.”

“Well, some of us can’t go to the bar,” Jessica grumbled.

I sighed. “I’m sorry, hun but like… I just don’t do stuff during the day. That’s when I get my ten hours of beauty sleep.”

Jessica sighed. “What are you? A vampire or something?”

Normally I would’ve brushed that comment off if it were nothing at all. Normally that wouldn’t have gotten under my skin. But tonight wasn't like most nights. Tonight, I had just lost one of my own.

Still, I couldn’t show anger. It was a joke after all.

So, I forced a smile. “Maybe I am.”

Jessica snorted. “Do you want to drink my blood?”

I smirked and advanced upon her, placing a hand against her cheek. Her gaze was lost in my own and in that moment, she sunk under my control, succumbing to me.

“Your blood would be pretty delicious,” I teased.

She offered a dopey smile and tilted her head to the side, exposing her neck to me. “Then why not have a taste?”

I snorted and bapped her across the cheek. “Alright, calm down girl.”

Jessica stirred and a nice dose of red coloured her cheeks. Oh, how I missed the ability to blush. Jessica made it look so good.

“Save it for the stage,” I teased.

Jessica grinned. “Right.” She nodded towards the curtain. “Trixie should be just about done with her routine.”

“Well hopefully our fine guests have saved a couple dollars for me,” I quipped.

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that, Trish,” Jessica said. “They always seem to have money for you.”

Trish, my stripper name, my modern name. It really was a goofy name that didn’t fit me in the slightest.

Not that I minded, I was an adaptable kind of person.

If I needed to change my name, then my name got changed.

If I needed to lay low, I could lay low.

If I needed to suck blood out of plastic pouches for a few months, then I could do that.

You didn’t survive as a vampire in this world without learning the art of compromise.

Suddenly, the boom of music started to fade, dying down to a soft din.

That was my cue as I moved towards the curtain.

It was time for me to perform.

---

I took a sip from my mug of black coffee, washing away my mounting exhaustion. A nocturnal life was not an easy life to adapt to, even for someone who had been immersed in it as long as myself.

On my computer screen was a Chrome browser filled with tabs. Each marked a recent death within the city. Some were reports from the news. Others were reports from the police, acquired through some complications with their internet security.

Being a hunter wasn’t just about killing vampires anymore. Like everything else about the 21^st century, the skills required for the job expanded and included hacking, sleuthing, and having a skillset pretty similar to spying or espionage.

An email popped up on the side of my screen. It was from an encrypted username, coming from someone blank. It may have kept the person hidden from Google but I knew them right away.

Congratulations on the successful hunt, Christine. It is nice to see that my investment in the city has finally borne fruit. Please accept this e-transfer as a sign of my thanks. I believe that successful hunts should be rewarded in a more tangible sense.

-V

Victor was a fellow who had seen one too many spy movies but I kept that opinion to myself.

Instead, I clicked the link and whistled, pleased to see a decent string of zeros within the dollar figure. At the very least, this wasn’t the impoverished job it was during my grandfather’s time.

I shot off a quick reply, thanking him, before turning back to the task at hand.

There were an eerie number of cases within this city that were likely linked to vampires.

They had a very predictable method of killing. A gory neck wound that led to near immediate death. It wasn’t a means of murder that was replicated by any one else.

What was important was the other details of the case. Was there a predictable geographic indicator? A common social connection? Maybe something else that could link them together?

With the last case, it had been a matter of geography, narrowing down credit card transactions to a few city blocks. This was then followed by me finding a few supporting pieces of evidence to help pick out my mark.

This other string, I’d been picking away at, was a little harder to pull apart. The deaths, while concentrated downtown, were sporadic and didn’t pin down a definitive location of safety for the killer. For all I knew the murders could’ve been unlinked and there may have been more than just one more vampire on the loose.

I hummed and opened a notepad.

What time does the killer kill?

That information might’ve helped pin down how far away from their den they were at the time of feeding.

Not much of a thread to work off of but it was something at the least. I quickly went into the police records, opening coroner reports. I briefly scanned through them, looking mostly for their times of death.

I pursed my lips, picking up on the little details.

It would’ve seemed that there was a string of deaths that had taken place at around two-to-four in the morning on Saturday and Sunday. Depending on the time of year this would’ve given a pretty sparse window for my target to return to their den. It also displayed that this might’ve been work related. A weekend gig that found my target their own targets, perhaps?

I opened a mapping app and stuck it with pins, places where deaths had happened. I then colour coded them, green, yellow, and red. Red was for kills that were done near daytime, yellow for those done with some time to spare, and green for those where my target would’ve had plenty of time to get home.

Next it was time to turn to finances. Mastercard, Visa, and American Express, all had sturdy firewalls. Thankfully the police had jurisdiction to collect upon these records and their networks were far less secure.

I skimmed through them, trying to find a common link, something like a shared eating place for an office or a hotel that aligned with several of the deaths.

This method found a few potential connections. A pair of deaths shared a coffee shop, a trio liked to go to a sandwich place, and one gentleman frequented the hotel he’d been murdered at.

The police of course noted these but they were stuck in a frame of mind that a common cause of death must’ve shared a common killer. This made their search clumsy, their net cast far too wide.

I pinned these landmarks upon the map, noting that the hotel death overlapped with a pin that was bright red, the brightest red.

“Guest or worker?” I murmured to myself.

I shook my head and instead went over to the bank accounts of the deceased. Deposits from jobs were the first thing I noted, though none of the dead shared a place of employment, dashing the sandwich and coffee shop connections. What I did notice however, was that there was a trend of somewhat large withdrawals of cash on the night of their deaths.

A couple hundred dollars here, a couple hundred dollars there, with five hundred being the biggest by far.

I pursed my lips and looked at the reports to see what the detectives thought of this.

They noted that there may have been a connection to organized crime for some of the deceased. I winced, realizing that this detail would likely muddle their own investigation.

“Come on guys,” I grumbled. “What gang rips their victims’ throats out?”

I shook my head and clicked my tongue against the roof of my mouth. It was apparently my turn to play detective.

I highlighted the location of victims who were killed after withdrawing these sums of money. Most of them were yellow though a singular one was red. I also noted in a report that one of these kills had been paired with a phone call to 9-1-1 right after the murder.

I snorted. “A vampire with a conscience?” I shook my head. “Probably just fucking with us or something.”

A green circle appeared overtop of these cases, limiting the search down to a dozen or so city blocks. Only down to eight thousand residents; practically had them.

“Now what jobs were nocturnal and focused upon cash?” I asked myself.

I took another sip of coffee, roving my brain

Drugs?

Toxicology reports only showed that one victim had an illegal narcotic in his system at the time of death. Though all of them were liquored up.

“Booze?” I whispered, tapping my chin. “Booze, booze, booze.”

Bar, casinos, and strip clubs all came to mind. A quick search found that there were no casinos anywhere within that green circle, with the closest being several kilometers away. That didn’t rule out the option entirely but it definitely put it on the backburner.

Next were the bars. And surprise, surprise there was a good number of them in the circle with about a half dozen in total.

I hummed to myself when it came to the bars. The sums of money seemed a little large, even for a very generous night out with plenty of rounds charged to the host. Still, maybe all of the marks were just good Samaritans who liked to make sure their friends were taken care of?

I looked at the toxicology reports again and frowned. While some alcohol was present, it would’ve only been enough for a buzz, a little something to take the edge off of our marks.

That left me with strip clubs. Alcohol was offered at some and I could imagine someone dropping a couple hundred dollars in pretty quick succession. They were also far more sparsely placed than bars with only one located within the circle and the next one being pretty far off.

I hummed, formulating the information that I had leads on, narrowing it down and trying to bridge off the paths which had the greatest chance of success. This string of deaths seemed to have the most concrete information behind them.

So, I’d start with them.

I yawned and took a sip of coffee before looking towards my closet.

“What does someone even wear to a strip club?” I whispered under my breath. “Wait… do they even let girls into a strip club?”

A quick Google search confirmed that they did.

---

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