"I must get back to my husband Hiram and our son Erebus," Lady Nadia said, and the tall, curvy West African-born vampire shook off the last vestiges of slumber as night fell over the City of London, United Kingdom. The situation of vampires worldwide was becoming dire, not the least due to the fact that the undead refused to put aside their petty differences and unite against the resurgent humans. Eternity had made the undead complacent, and they were paying the price for it. The human warriors were slaughtering the vampires in droves, diminishing their numbers every night...
"As you wish, madame," replied Lady Nadia's faithful acolyte Noor, and with that, the two of them left their lair, a rented mansion from the Victorian era in the Watford area. It's a forty-minute drive from the town of Watford to London proper, and from there, the two vampires would begin their long journey back to North America. Europe has the vampire situation under control, or so the European military forces think. In the United States of America, Canada and Mexico, the war between human and vampire rages on.
The vampire Noor, a short, slender young woman with dark bronze skin and short, spiky dark hair, had been Lady Nadia's friend and confidante for a long time. Noor was born in 1898 in the environs of Marrakesh, Morocco, and met Lady Nadia in Fez during the turbulent summer of 1920. In those days, Noor, an orphan, was a prostitute on the streets of Fez, and one of her clients, Malik, had grown possessive of her. For the unfortunate young woman, the situation did not bode well, to say the least...
"I don't belong to you, Malik," Noor cried defiantly as her former client, a burly, dark-haired, swarthy thug named Malik grabbed her by the throat and pressed her against the wall. The son of a wealthy Imam, Malik was clearly used to getting anything he wanted. In this dark alley, somewhere in downtown Fez, Noor was about to breathe her last. Malik drew out his blade, ready to end her life. Like a lot of men, Malik despised that which arouses him, and women like Noor are always made to pay the price, often with their lives. Still, the young Moroccan woman refused to go down without a fight...
"You filthy whore," Malik bellowed, and he was about to cut Noor's throat when something unusual happened. A shadow fell upon the prostitute and her would-be killer. A living shadow. Dropping out of the sky, Lady Nadia waded into Malik, and made short work of him. Noor watched, aghast, as a tall, woman-shaped shadow overpowered the burly Malik like he weighed nothing. The shadow woman's eyes glowed red, and she flashed her pearly white fangs before sinking them into Malik's throat. Malik struggled, but soon went still.