Little did he know, I was brought up to believe in vampires. My family, the Brassards, are vampire hunters, and my father brought us here to find the Dreds and discover what threat they posed.

Angele turned to Daisy and said, “I’d never normally approach a vampire without my parents, but something about her…It pulled me in.” I saw her flinch as people backed away from her in fear, and then she gave up and walked away from the market.

Angele started to jog as quickly as she could in her dress, trying to catch up with Victorija. Daisy followed suit and watched as Angele shouted for Victorija to stop. When Victorija turned around, Daisy saw a young face that appeared to be battered down by life, both mentally and physically.

She had bruises on her face, and Daisy spotted more on her arm. This confused Daisy. Why would a vampire have bruises? Surely any injuries would heal. Daisy knew that both the Debreks and the Dreds weren’t vampires turned by other vampires. They were born vampires, the only two clans in the world that could have children.

Perhaps the younger vampires didn’t have the same powers of recovery?

Victorija said to Angele, “You don’t want to talk to me—no one around here does.”

“Why is that?” Angele asked.

“They say my family are vampires.”

Victorija looked puzzled when Angele didn’t turn and run at that information. Instead, she smiled and said, “Well, I’m from a family of vampire hunters, so that doesn’t bother me.”

Victorija stood in silence, totally perplexed.

Daisy was astonished at how different Victorija looked. She walked up close to her and studied her. It wasn’t just her youthful appearance. Her face showed painful bruises, some fresh, some yellowing as they healed, but Daisy could also see mental anguish in Victorija’s eyes and the way she held herself.

The Victorija she knew was brash, vicious, uncaring, and unfeeling. It was surreal to see her like this.

Angele said, “May I walk along with you for a while?”

Victorija looked shocked and in fact stood still while Angele walked ahead, but she soon ran to catch up.

“Who are you, Victorija?” Daisy said.

Chapter Four

Anka’s limousine turned in to a leafy Parisian suburb. Mothers and fathers with prams strolled along the pavement, while others walked their dogs. It was truly nauseating, but if Asha was right about the house he had found, it would all be truly worth it.

The car slowed to a halt. Anka saw Asha waiting on the steps of a pleasant mansion. One of her werewolf guards opened the car door, and Asha walked down to offer Anka a hand out.

“Welcome, Madam. I hope you will be pleased with this house I have found you.”

Anka looked around the mature gardens at the front and said, “Tell me about it.”