came to meeting up-close and personal, my powers of persuasion would aid me. Nonetheless, I despised the fact that part of my plan was predicated on wearing anything from one of the dimwits I had come to kill. The clothing smelled of him. It stunk.
According to Betta, Jack Jeffers was a citizen who preferred to train during the evenings, so he slept during the day. This was not a surprise because Jack was a Daywalker. They evolved (or devolved as the case may be) from vampires who, of course, preferred the evening hours. Betta taught me that although Daywalkers did not perish if exposed to the daylight, they nonetheless still favored the darkness.
As I made my way across A Street, heading for C Street, I could feel the blood pumping through my veins. My excitement heightened, and I became thrilled by the chase, anxious to see justice dealt where it was sorely due.
“Soldier.” I heard the scratchy voice coming from behind me. In response, I immediately spun around, smiling and bringing my hands up into the air to show I was not armed.
“Evening,” I said in a calm, easy tone of voice.
The man was a Daywalker; I could tell by the dearth of magic surrounding his person. He had no electric force field, nothing that would hint to otherworldly or magical abilities. He was dressed in black, no doubt, to blend in with the night, given that he was a guard. He was also heavily armed, carrying a rifle and hoisting a large pack that he slung over his shoulders.
Once our eyes met, I had him. I widened mine and stared into the deep recesses of his, testing his strength and power. Quite like dogs sniffing one another’s bums, vampires can learn much just by looking into another’s eyes. And Daywalkers proved to be no different. By studying his eyes, I could decipher his power, his age and his health. No male Daywalkers ever lived long enough to see their twenty-first birthday, so it was safe to assume that this one was young. I did not have to read that in his eyes to know as much. But his eyes told the truth all the same. Being as young as he was meant he was also inexperienced. His superhuman strength was just budding, still in its infancy, and I had no doubts he would be very gifted where physical combat was concerned. Despite his expert training, he did not threaten me.
Tell me where I can find Jack Jeffers, I asked him in my silent thoughts.
“He’s supposed to be training,” he started before appearing as if he had some misgivings about offering any other information. Unluckily for him, however, if I wanted information from him, I would damn well get it.
But he is not training, so where is he? I demanded.
“He’s visiting the Breeders,” the young Daywalker responded, sounding and acting suddenly nervous.
The term “Breeders” immediately ignited an indignant flame that lit up inside me before I managed to force it back down. When the Lady Bryn was mercilessly held captive here, she had been assigned to the class of the Breeders. That particular group of females, according to Betta, was basically deemed useless except where procreation was concerned.
Where are the Breeders located?
“You can take a shortcut through those two buildings to get to B Street,” the young man started. He turned around to indicate the two buildings in question, which stood directly in front of us. “When you get to E Street, make a left; the Breeders are in the house at the end of the street.”
Very good, I answered with a quick nod. I tightened the hold I had on him through our locked gazes. You will forget our interaction and go back to your patrol as if you never saw me, I ordered, opting to spare the young man’s life, mostly because I did not want to sully my disguise with his blood.
The man did not say anything more and I did not wait for him. Instead, I started up the small incline of the hill directly before me, being careful to stick to the side of the wall on my right, lest anyone see me. The path was clear, so I
According to Betta, Jack Jeffers was a citizen who preferred to train during the evenings, so he slept during the day. This was not a surprise because Jack was a Daywalker. They evolved (or devolved as the case may be) from vampires who, of course, preferred the evening hours. Betta taught me that although Daywalkers did not perish if exposed to the daylight, they nonetheless still favored the darkness.
As I made my way across A Street, heading for C Street, I could feel the blood pumping through my veins. My excitement heightened, and I became thrilled by the chase, anxious to see justice dealt where it was sorely due.
“Soldier.” I heard the scratchy voice coming from behind me. In response, I immediately spun around, smiling and bringing my hands up into the air to show I was not armed.
“Evening,” I said in a calm, easy tone of voice.
The man was a Daywalker; I could tell by the dearth of magic surrounding his person. He had no electric force field, nothing that would hint to otherworldly or magical abilities. He was dressed in black, no doubt, to blend in with the night, given that he was a guard. He was also heavily armed, carrying a rifle and hoisting a large pack that he slung over his shoulders.
Once our eyes met, I had him. I widened mine and stared into the deep recesses of his, testing his strength and power. Quite like dogs sniffing one another’s bums, vampires can learn much just by looking into another’s eyes. And Daywalkers proved to be no different. By studying his eyes, I could decipher his power, his age and his health. No male Daywalkers ever lived long enough to see their twenty-first birthday, so it was safe to assume that this one was young. I did not have to read that in his eyes to know as much. But his eyes told the truth all the same. Being as young as he was meant he was also inexperienced. His superhuman strength was just budding, still in its infancy, and I had no doubts he would be very gifted where physical combat was concerned. Despite his expert training, he did not threaten me.
Tell me where I can find Jack Jeffers, I asked him in my silent thoughts.
“He’s supposed to be training,” he started before appearing as if he had some misgivings about offering any other information. Unluckily for him, however, if I wanted information from him, I would damn well get it.
But he is not training, so where is he? I demanded.
“He’s visiting the Breeders,” the young Daywalker responded, sounding and acting suddenly nervous.
The term “Breeders” immediately ignited an indignant flame that lit up inside me before I managed to force it back down. When the Lady Bryn was mercilessly held captive here, she had been assigned to the class of the Breeders. That particular group of females, according to Betta, was basically deemed useless except where procreation was concerned.
Where are the Breeders located?
“You can take a shortcut through those two buildings to get to B Street,” the young man started. He turned around to indicate the two buildings in question, which stood directly in front of us. “When you get to E Street, make a left; the Breeders are in the house at the end of the street.”
Very good, I answered with a quick nod. I tightened the hold I had on him through our locked gazes. You will forget our interaction and go back to your patrol as if you never saw me, I ordered, opting to spare the young man’s life, mostly because I did not want to sully my disguise with his blood.
The man did not say anything more and I did not wait for him. Instead, I started up the small incline of the hill directly before me, being careful to stick to the side of the wall on my right, lest anyone see me. The path was clear, so I
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