In the fleeting moment that followed, Asher felt a surge of gratitude for his quick thinking, just as he thought the vampire was moving in for the kill.

CRUNCH

The dagger sank deep into the vampire’s bloodied abdomen. It had already been ravaged by his blade once and then pierced by his revolver.

The vampire viciously clawed at him, its hands like sharp, jagged weapons.

Asher’s blood spattered the floor as he drove the dagger deeper and deeper still, ignoring the fresh wounds being torn into him.

His vision blurred, painted red by the blood dripping from his forehead into his eyes.

I don’t need to see. I just need to kill this bastard!

A visceral crack echoed as the vampire’s spine shattered. Asher had driven his dagger straight through the previous wound in the vampire’s abdomen.

The vampire whimpered, its legs crumpling beneath its weight.

It collapsed onto Asher, the force of its body pressing him down. Though the vampire had lost all mobility from the waist down, it remained a deadly threat at such close range.

Asher squeezed his knee between them, then kicked with all his strength into the vampire’s solar plexus, sending it sprawling.

Weakly crawling, he grabbed his revolver and stood to face his disheveled foe.

“Au revoir.”

BANG

A quiet drop of blood slid from the vampire’s forehead before it erupted into a spurting mess.

Asher collapsed onto the ground amidst the pouring rain, beaten and savaged. He took shaky breaths, gathering his strength. After a moment, he threw his jacket over the corpse and ran back to the apartment entrance, sprinting up the stairs with the urgency of a firefighter.

Turning the corner, he entered the room. The door had already been kicked in by Henry.

Inside, Henry was still locked in combat with the female vampire. Flames licked across the room, the furniture ruined, drapes ablaze.

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

The bloodfiend stood facing Henry, its back to the door. Unlike her partner, she wielded a kitchen knife, skillfully carving wounds into Henry’s body.

Asher didn’t hesitate. He raised his revolver and fired the last three bullets directly into the bloodfiend’s head. She crumpled like discarded laundry, collapsing to the floor.

Henry wasn’t as badly wounded as Asher but had still taken his share of cuts from the feral woman’s blade.

Henry glanced at Asher, a glimmer of gratitude in his eyes.

“What of the bloodfiend?” he asked between labored breaths.

Asher wiped his face with his shirt, though it did little to clean off the blood.

“Dead.”

Henry began gathering the flames in the room into his hand.

“Retrieve the body and bring it here, now.”

Asher paled at the thought but obliged. He leaped out the window, balancing precariously on the windowsill, and hugged a gas pipe, sliding down to reach the bloodfiend’s body.

By the time he made it back to Henry, he was exhausted. Carrying the vampire up two flights of stairs was beyond taxing, especially after the fight.

Asher dropped the body carelessly onto the floor near the woman and reclaimed his suit jacket.

Henry finished coalescing the flames and allowed them to consume the vampires’ bodies until nothing remained but ashes.

Among the remains, Asher thought he saw something glimmer—a crimson, shiny object. Before he could investigate, Henry slipped on a glove and collected the items into a black cigarette tin.

“Let’s go,”

Henry said.

“Have Eric send a constable to clean up the mess and question the neighbors.”

Asher nodded, and they soon left, heading toward the alley where Eric was waiting.

Before departing, Asher flipped his coin one last time and asked,

“Was that all the vampires I seek?”

The coin flipped, landing with the tails side up.

Interesting... or maybe bollocks. Probably bollocks.

The carriage ride was uneventful. By the time they reached the consultancy firm, it was quarter past noon.

Liz greeted them, offering first aid. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to keep their wounds from worsening. Both would need to visit the central emissary branch to receive blessings from the Cardinal.

Asher made his way into Mr. Bolard’s office, recounting the events that had taken place.

“Good work, Asher. With this, you’ve paid for your potion. Once I submit the incident report, you’ll earn enough merits to clear your debt. Still, it’s too soon for you to take the Clown potion.”

Asher smiled, pleased with himself. His first assignment had gone smoothly—at least, in his mind.

“What do you mean, it’s too soon, Mr. Bolard?”

Henry entered the room at that moment.

“You need to acclimate to the potion you’ve already consumed before you can take the next step. Henry hasn’t managed that in almost 30 years.”

Henry set the black cigarette tin on Mr. Bolard’s desk before heading toward the door. As he exited, he called back,

“Come get some lunch when you’re done, kid.”

Asher gave Mr. Bolard a nod before speaking.

“I understand. That’s fine. I've only just descended. But I wanted to ask about my ring... Is there a method to activate it that I’m unaware of? Henry mentioned it discharged a frost nova during my essence condensation meditation. That would’ve been crucial in my fight against the bloodfiend.”

Mr. Bolard stood up and quietly shut the door.

“You mustn't speak so openly about these things, Asher. Remember, the stakes here are far beyond what either of us can afford. But the answer is simple. Relics only require a small amount of essence input and a mental or verbal command imbued with will. It's an invitation of sorts—letting the relic feed on the descender's essence.”

“What’s the command?” Asher asked.

“Usually, it’s something simple, inscribed on the relic itself for ease of use. In your case, I believe it’s written in ancient Stellarian. Try that, but do it in private... I’d rather not have a blizzard break out in my office.”

“I understand. Thank you, Mr. Bolard.”

Mr. Bolard pursed his lips, then gave a dismissive wave.

“Call me Captain, Asher. Nobody calls me that anymore.”

Confused by the gesture, Asher nodded.

“Understood, Captain. If there’s nothing else, I’ll retire for the day. Ah, and cough if you’d like, I can show you how to tie a t—”

The Captain smiled for some inexplicable reason and cut him off.

“If there’s nothing else, Asher, get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow. Be sure to accompany Henry to Saint Joan Cathedral for treatment. You look like you’ve been mauled by one, maybe two wolverines. Also, I expect that report on the Jester’s Guise historical records on my desk by Friday.”

Asher blinked, then nodded eagerly. “As you say, Captain. Good day.”

“Good day, Asher.”