Vero roused herself and Dora in the early evening as the sun was beginning to sink.

They were returning to Kitty’s Theater, when they stopped for a meal at a street vendor selling steamed mussels with garum. Once she left the city, Vero would happily never set eyes on garum again.

Dora, perhaps because she had never eaten anything else in her life, enjoyed the food with great relish. “Aren’t you hungry, Vero?”

“Garum unbalances my humors.”

“I eat it all the time.”

Vero smiled. “I know.”

Dora was about to eat another mussel, but became self-conscious and stopped herself. “Are you teasing me again? I shall not stand for it much longer if you are.”

“It heats your blood, that’s why you’re so irritable.”

“Well, you could become livelier and the change would do you good, I think.”

“Perhaps you’re right.” Vero guided Dora’s hand to her mouth and ate the mussel out of it. She found it salty, but edible. “How much do you know about vampyres?”

“Almost nothing. They come to you while you sleep and drink your blood.”

“They are immune to cold, disease, nearly all poisons, and to fatigue. They can force themselves to breathe, but do not require air except to speak. Forget any wives’ tales you may have heard regarding garlic or poppy seeds, because those are only most common ingredients of a much larger – and very expensive – warding ritual. Left to themselves, restless dead often lack intelligence. They may be stymied by simple yet repetitive tasks set before them; counting grains of rice, untying knots in a net, and so on. However, the creatures we face are part of a coven, and will be directed by the eldest among them. They won’t be foiled by simple tricks like that, unless their master is destroyed.”

“How does one kill-” Dora’s voice was uncertain. “-remove… them?”

“Wounds struck against them with normal metal heal at once, but they can still be decapitated with a single swift blow. Injuries done by my sword will not heal. A wooden stake pounded into the heart puts them into a state of death, but they may be restored if the stake is ever removed. The body must be completely incinerated into ashes to be certain that the thing is totally dead. This can be done through fire, or by exposure to holy sunlight.”

Dora listened with enraptured awe. “You really are a slayer, aren’t you? I keep expecting to wake from this strange dream.”

Vero pinched the side of Dora’s leg.

“Ow! Now why would you do such a thing?”

“I wanted to make certain you were awake.”

“You think you’re very clever, Lady Slayer.”

“I do.” Vero continued her lecture.

“There are many abilities a vampyre may display. During the ancient Imperium slayers catalogued all of them and their causes, but those records were lost long ago. Their senses are keen. They can smell blood from an enormous distance. Their eyes are permanently adjusted to the darkness, but this can be turned into an advantage if they are blinded by a bright light. They may be exceptionally strong, but some are not. I have some personal theories as to why, but I won’t bore you with them for now.”

Vero waited to see if Dora was absorbing everything, and she gave a small nod to go on.

“Some vampyres are able to master the minds of others, both men and also lower animals. Either through direct commands, or through illusions. Vampyres are weakened during the day, but the eldest are still capable defending themselves, and still must be approached with caution. Those that survive long enough to rediscover their independent ability to reason may work natural magic, just as living humans do. The eldest among them are probably equal in age and power to eldest elven wizards. This is almost certainly the reason for the confused accounts as to which powers are bestowed by their undead form, and which are granted to them by magic.”

“I’m not sure I- What weapons will I…” Dora started to tremble. “Gods Vero, I feel a terrible chill all of a sudden.”

Vero pulled Dora closer. “I’ll make sure you’re well away from the danger.”

“No, I want to be with you. Only give me something simple to do- so I won’t foul anything up.”

“You’re certain?”

“Very certain.”

Vero paid for their food, and they finished the last leg of their journey to the brothel. Arrangements were made for Kitty to call in each of her girls on the pretext of an examination for venereal disease. Which was not entirely a lie, if one defined vampyrism very loosely.

Vero felt practically naked preparing to face vampyre without her weapons or armor, but it was vital that her prey not know her for what she was until they were identified. Vampyres relied on subterfuge when they hunted, she must do the same.

She and Dora used one of the rooms upstairs Kitty kept to rent for private parties. The Madame ordered her men to clear it of furniture, aside from a sofa for the patient to lie down on during the examination, and a large cabinet; inside of which Vero hid her sword and a stake made from fresh pinewood.

Two of Kitty’s most competent bouncers stood outside, but were ordered to keep out of sight so they would not scare the patients. They were stout fellows, but necessarily kept in the dark regarding what they might have to face, a precaution Vero had insisted on to prevent any information leaking out.

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The examinations started slowly, to give the girls a chance to relax. Vero checked each of their complexions. Vampyres often appeared pale and wan until they fed, at which point they became bloated and took on a flushed appearance. Humans also ran that same spectrum though, and it could hardly be considered conclusive evidence on its own.

From there, she proceeded to watch their chests carefully for the rising and falling of breathing. As well as feeling their breast for the beat of a heart. These measures also remained inconclusive. A vampyre still possessed the capacity for breathing, though not the necessity. A vampyre also caused their dead heart to beat when they called on the power in their stolen life force.

Finally, the examination moved to the last phase. Vero ordered the girls to undress and examined their major arteries for puncture wounds; the neck, wrist, and inner thighs. The wounds present on the new vampyre at their time of death would never fade, and were impossible to hide if uncovered.

Still, Vero and Dora went through every girl staying at the brothel and found nothing. Not surprising, in-house girls would be harder to take than those on the street.

The last employee left and Kitty herself quickly replaced her. The Madame walked around the room, examining it critically and smoking her long pipe.

Vero considered asking the Madame why she was there, but when she opened her mouth, she thought better of it. Instead, she pretended to help Dora look through the list of streetwalkers who paid tax to the Madame. They were the next for examination.

“Couldn’t you just use a mirror?”

The Madame opened the conversation, so Vero felt confident enough to turn her attention back to Kitty and speak. “I’m afraid vampyres show up in looking glasses just the same as you or I, unless the mirror is backed by holy silver and blessed to reflect souls. A device which we seem to lack at present.”

“Have you found anything yet?”

“Not yet, Madame.”

Kitty must have sensed disappointment in her tone, because she pounced on it in an instant. “But surely that’s a good thing?”

“Good and bad, Madame. Hopefully this is a sign that the coven remains quite small, but there’s no proof of that yet. The coven have probably been targeting those on the street.”

Dora finished marking the last girl they cleared off the list, and turned to face them. “And until we capture a confirmed vampyre, we have no leads.”

Kitty walked over to Dora, and Vero noticed that the Madame’s movements were as graceful as a dancer’s. “You seem to be taking to all this rather quickly.”

Kitty ran a finger along the side of her ward’s cheek, and Dora flushed a bright red. “I’m just trying to help, mother.”

“I know you are, duckling. I’m sure our friend Veronique appreciates that. I just want to make sure you stay safe.”

Vero took a step forward. “I won’t let anything happen to her.”

Kitty turned to face the intruder, and held Vero’s gaze for a very long moment before replying, “See that you don’t.”

Then, all at once, the Madame seemed to lose interest in them both and walked out of the room. “The next group of girls is coming. Find something before I reconsider our arrangement.”

The next set of examinations went quickly, and they were approaching the end of the list. Vero considered the possibility that she may to expand her investigation onto the territory of one or more of the other Madams.

Their latest subject was redressing, a chatty woman approaching middle age. “I’ve seen you at the laundry, my sister Anna told me you sold her a cure for the rash. How did you come to know about medicine?”

“My mother taught me some. I was also an acolyte of Vedio for a time, before they found me with a priest.” Vero preferred to always tell the truth, so long as there was no compelling reason to do otherwise.

“I thought that was grounds for promotion, not dismissal.”

Although Vero was willing to lie, if the truth was too difficult or complex to bother with. “Not if it’s a junior cleric, whom you refused the high priest for.”

“Oh well, the gods have never done anything for us. I don’t see why we should do anything for them. Take care friends.”

The talkative woman left and the next entered. Vero found her much comelier than most of the street walkers they had seen that evening.

She had a brown skin tone, even darker than Dora’s shade of olive, and her features suggested that she came from the southern continent. She was tall, with long legs and bountiful breasts. Her gorgeous black tresses fell in curls around her shoulders.

“Shall I undress now?” The woman spoke old Imperial, but with a slight twist; the barest hint of an accent from south of the White Sea.

Vero bit her tongue to refocus her attention on the task at hand.

“Yes…” Dora checked her records. “…Fatima, you can take off your clothes now if you like. Then lay down on the sofa.”

Slowly and sensuously, the woman began to divest herself of her garments. Vero wondered whether she did so for her examiners’ benefit, or by simple habit.

Her ruby red dress was new and expensive. When Fatima finished with her clothes, she moved to her jewelry; a pair of fine ruby earrings to match the dress, a bracelet of beaten copper, and lastly a blue pendant made from lapis lazuli resembling a butterfly.

Vero reached out and stopped her, the woman’s skin was cool to the touch. “You can keep your jewelry on if you like.”

Fatima smiled back at her, showing brilliant white teeth. “Very well, you’re the expert… so I’m led to understand.”

Vero ran her hand along the woman’s arm, from the bracelet up to the necklace, which she held up into the light. “This is beautiful craftsmanship, where did you get it?”

“It was a gift; from a man I know. I’m sure you understand.”

Vero ceased her examination of the jewelry; no puncture marks hidden beneath them. “Please lay down.”

Fatima did so, laying back languidly, but she kept her charms hidden with closed legs and a deliberately-carelessly laid hand. Her breathing was shallow and purposeful.

Vero kneeled down for her examination. “Spread your legs, please.”

Fatima smirked, and gave Vero a wanton look when she did as bidden.

Right leg, femoral artery; the flesh was marred by ragged tooth marks.

Vero kept her voice even. “Dora, fetch the conifer device please.” Vero ran the slayer mantras through her head to protect her thoughts. She tried to continue to play at being a nurse, but felt a hand placed on the top of her head.

Fatima smiled down at her; teeth bared. “Found something you like?”

Instantly, Vero felt the hand on her head turn into a fist and then wrench her head backwards by the hair, exposing her throat. She screamed and fell backwards, pushing Fatima away. The vampyress roared and snapped at her, trying to reach her neck.

There was a sound of movement outside the door, followed by a crashing opening. The guards stumbled inside, before standing dumbfounded by what they saw. With blood red eyes and gnashing teeth, Fatima hissed at them. Then she turned her attention back to Vero.

“Help her, you fools!”

Dora’s shout finally brought the men out of their shock. The first one rushed forward and tackled the vampyre off Vero. The second man quickly followed, and together they attempted to hold the monster down with their combined weight. Still dazed, Vero crawled over towards Dora, who helped her to her feet.

When Vero’s senses returned, she saw the man who had rescued her sent flying across and room and crashing into the back wall. He slumped to the ground unconscious, and his companion was receiving the worst end of a grappling match against the creature.

She realized that Dora had placed a stake and mallet into her hands.

The vampyre rose to her feet, slowly drawing her combatant’s limp form to her mouth with a look of the most sublime anticipation on her face. Too caught up in her own bloodlust, she took no notice of Vero until the stake was planted firmly into her back. Fatima fell limp to the ground, Vero continued to pound with her mallet until she was sure the stake was secured.

Dora fetched smelling salts to revive the guards. When they were awake, Vero ordered them to haul the body up to the roof. She followed them, but sent Dora to inform Kitty of what had transpired, and to bring the tools she planned to use for the interrogation.