February 1883
In front of the hunter was the door of the vampire's manor. It was thrice as tall as she, polished wood black as the sky around her, the knob gold. The hunter hesitated, but the door opened by itself with a soft creak.
Shivering in the frigid rain, the warmth was no comfort. There was a tall figure ahead, a blur against the faint glow of candles.
"You may enter."
The voice was layered, as though several similar were speaking at once. The hunter pulled back her wet hood to show a young face, colored by years in the sun. Damp tresses of vivid red hair stuck to her neck.
"I wasn't expecting you would accept my invitation," the unmoving figure continued, "and you are alone, no less. Your fellows would not come?"
"They don't know I'm here."
Footsteps echoed on a hard floor, and the vampire was visible at last.
"Oh, how is it that you always surprise me, human?"
Taller than a man, he was dressed in a black robe, its scarlet fastenings trimmed in silver. Elbow-length, raven hair framed his face, most of it in loose curls, and his amber eyes reminded the hunter of what should have been her fate.
"You can speak, can't you?" he asked, pointed teeth showing. "It's rude for a guest to ignore her host."
"You're a vampire, I don't have to ask what you've brought me here for."
The glowing eyes blinked, a white hand gesturing behind the door.
"You should not jump to some grisly conclusion. If I wanted your blood, you know you would be powerless to resist. But I have fed recently. That urge must be tempered tonight. Now, if you'll come with me."
After the freezing drizzle, the hunter's mind sighed to be inside. But she couldn't forget her mission- at her right thigh, she had a blade of pure silver. The moment the vampire was vulnerable, one swift blow would kill him.
"Tell me," the hunter said as they paused in the narrow, dim hall, "have you let a human into your home before?"
"I have not," the vampire answered, turning his eerie face to hers, "but many before you have stormed my home, armed with swords and crosses. And perhaps that is what I desire. The blood of brave warriors and scholars satiates my kind so very well."
The hall opened to a larger room, door swinging of its own accord. A chandelier threw shimmering light on several large, cushioned chairs, two situated by a crackling fire.
"Make yourself comfortable, hunter."
The hunter sat as though the sturdy wood and plush fabric would collapse. She took off leather gloves and flexed her chilled fingers as the vampire sat opposite, watching. The way an owl watches a mouse on which it will swoop in a silent rush.
"Your name is Shannon, yes?"
"How did you know that?" the hunter demanded, clenching the chair's arm.
"That is what your fellows called you. I heard them approaching after I indulged."
Shannon's trembling fingers tucked a strand of hair in front of her ear, but the vampire had seen her scar.
"So you know that much," Shannon continued, "but if you've just brought me here to kill and eat me, I'm not going to be that easy. You took me by surprise then."
The vampire continued to smile, letting the silence stretch on. When he did speak, his tone was low and subtle, as though he were speaking to a dying creature.
"No, Shannon. I brought you here because there is something I would ask of you. Precisely, something I want from you."
Shannon shifted purposefully in her seat, wanting to feel the knife.
"Something you want?"
For the first time the hunter noticed the vampire's low collar exposed part of his chest, and she blinked, wondering where her curiosity was coming from.
"Not precisely what I am sure you are thinking," the vampire paused, lifting his hand, "but if you are offering blood, I am happy to oblige. If you are properly conditioned, it will not be painful."
"No! It's a part of me, it's not for a monster like you!"
Shannon jerked out of her seat, hand at her hip, and the vampire's hand found her chin before she could move.
"And that is not what I've brought you here to ask," was the soft answer, "please, calm yourself, hunter. As long as you agree to my deal, no harm will come to you."
"I'm not agreeing to anything a murderer asks me."
"If you would allow me to explain, I think you'll find my proposal agreeable."
Shannon didn't speak, sitting back down slowly, her eyes fixed warily on the vampire's face. There was anger in the lines around his eyes as he added, "And may I venture that you yourself, a hunter, have murdered many of my kin as well. You would do well to watch your words, my patience has a limit. Have you forgotten how you wandered alone, on a full moon, through a place anyone knows is patrolled by my kind? What hunter who values her life would do that?"
A sick peal of fear ran through Shannon' empty stomach as she sat, cold palms leaving sweat on the arms of the chair. Perhaps his bargain would be to turn her into a vampire. A fate worse than death for a monster hunter.
"Hunter Shannon, I will confess that when I found you, I wanted you only as prey. My hunger was terrible that night, you humans cannot fathom such an urge. But I must admit, when I caught you... I had different feelings."
The color drained from Shannon's face as she was forced to remember the moment she thought would be her last. The splintered bark scratching her back, clawed hands pinning her down- but what disturbed Shannon the most was the lack of pain as fangs pierced her throat.
"Perhaps I am getting softer," the vampire gave a humorless chuckle, "but our encounter has made me consider things I gave little thought to before. I realize I have not felt the touch of a living human in many years, and I confess that I rather miss such an experience."