"So, they found us here too," Evelyn said nervously after I told them about my experience after dinner.

She was afraid, and I didn't blame her.

"What are these glyhens exactly?" I asked Agnieszka. "They went down hard..."

"Vampiric minions, shapeshifters. Each clan creates them in a unique way; I believe the stories about zombies are remnants of experiments that got out of hand."

I listened attentively. The more precisely I know what vampires and their minions are really capable of, the better for me.

"When turning a person into a glyhen, an internal parasite is used, which turns us into vampires, but at the same time, the creator tries to prevent the emergence of a new vampire. Some vampire properties are enhanced, while others are weakened. And loyalty is essential."

"How do vampires actually come into existence?" Evelyn asked. "It's not like you can just bite someone; there wouldn't be any people left."

Agnieszka hesitated for a moment, but eventually decided to answer.

"Similar to humans, through the exchange of genetic material. And that biting also plays a role."

"Exchange of genetic material?" Evelyn looked amused. "Like..."

"I don't feel like talking about it; I know very little about it. A new vampire can be created only by a vampire of higher age," Agnieszka ended the topic decisively.

"And what else can vampires do?" I turned to more practical matters.

Their sexual life and the related genetic exchange didn't interest me.

"It depends on the clan, especially on who founded it. As far as I know, our clan didn't have any special abilities, except for extreme diplomatic skills. But there are clans with specific abilities. For example, extreme resilience, the ability to influence human psychology, and probably more. But some of it may be just myths. These pieces of information are kept secret."

"And how many years can such a vampire actually live?" Evelyn asked again.

That was a question that interested me too.

"As I said, I think the Grandmaster of the Wroclaw clan will be around a thousand years old. And during such a time, there are random events that can even threaten the life of such a resilient being, like an ancient vampire. Not to mention vampire politics."

"And if no one kills him?" I directed my question to what interested me.

"I tried to find out," she admitted. "But I didn't find an answer. I just realized that what lives in us must somehow affect the brain. I saw an injured vampire; he suffered brain damage that would surely kill a person, but he survived without major consequences."

Even a vampire won't survive a shot to the eye or a shotgun in the mouth, I recalled with satisfaction. But I preferred to keep that to myself.

Agnieszka waited for a moment, but when she saw that I was silent, she continued.

"Once there was a hunt for a vampire who had gone mad. He was old, maybe ancient. Several clans collaborated on the hunt, and it was very, very difficult to kill that man. I heard that in the end, he had no intelligence left, that he was driven only by some extremely honed instinct. Something like a biological program ensuring the survival of the individual and using all the knowledge that the original intelligence had accumulated."

"Biological program? Where do you come up with these terms?" Evelyn shook her head and pushed her plate away as a sign that she was definitely done eating.

Biological program, non-biological program, the .600 caliber bullets had enough effect to end it.

I decided that I would eat everything that was left. Six rabbits weren't that many.

"When I was still alive, when I still lived an ordinary human life," Agnieszka corrected herself, "I taught biology in high school. And I'm still interested in biology. We, vampires, are fascinating."

"Maybe you became dispensable precisely because of your curiosity," I spoke out what had just occurred to me.

Evelyn nodded, and Agnieszka thought for a while.

"It could be, a few times I was hinted that I shouldn't ask anymore."

"And you didn't stop," I asked, or rather stated.

I forgot myself and crushed the rabbit bone with my teeth; both looked at me when they heard the loud sound.

I couldn't get rid of the guilty expression. There was enough meat; I didn't have to behave like an animal.

"I haven't stopped," Agnieszka confirmed. "I've just been more cautious. Perhaps not cautious enough," she admitted.

"Have you ever wondered why those vampires," she hesitated for a moment, searching for the right word, "attacked your clan?"

"Pack," Evelyn corrected her. "A pack."

I hadn't asked myself that question yet. I had been dealing with problems like what, how, and had no time for the why. Which was a mistake. But perhaps I didn't have the inclination for that question.

"I don't know," I admitted.

Evelyn just shrugged.

Maybe, however, it wasn't worth finding the answer. What mattered more was that our enemies had enormous resources, could move them from one state to another, could tame state administration and police, and had trained killers working for them. We had none of that. Our pack consisted of a few families, twenty people, tied to the land they loved, to the land they needed to occasionally satisfy their wild cravings. We learned to live among people, not to show our differences. We were people, just a bit different in some aspects. I had no idea what a powerful and wealthy vampire clan might want to gain from us. Except for ourselves... our bodies... everyone else disappeared.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

"They might want to turn us into glyhens," I said, but immediately dismissed the idea.

Those I fought against today were so resilient and strong that using us as raw material made no sense. Unnecessary complication.

"How will they react when they find out they lost another commando?" I returned to practical questions. "Will they send more, better armed and more cautious?"

Agnieszka shook her head.

"I don't think so. They have already lost too many people, and they weren't newcomers. They certainly didn't belong to ordinary foot soldiers. I think you killed a few elders. They'll negotiate with the hunter."

"With the hunter?" I didn't understand.

"There are vampires who don't belong to any clan. Solitaires, killers. Extremely fast and resistant even by our standards. Headhunters. They can be hired."

"And probably they don't kill people, right?" I understood.

"We kill them ourselves; it's not that difficult," Agnieszka answered seriously.

She wasn't joking.

"Why, why do we do this?" Evelyn exhaled.

Nothing she heard pleased her; she looked even more frightened than at the beginning of the conversation.

I understood her; I sympathized with her.

"To help our own, to save them," I reminded.

"They will be dead; it's been a long time since they disappeared," she said softly. "We won't help anyone anymore."

I recalled familiar names, faces I hadn't seen for decades. I remembered the names of their children, whom I had never met but knew existed. Dead? It hurt more than any beating I had ever received. Until I see evidence to the contrary, they are alive for me.

"We'll split up," I moved from conversation to orders. "You two will continue searching for the owners of larger quantities of deliveries and the owner of that off-road Volkswagen."

I pulled out a card from my pocket where I made notes about my findings from the internet. My initial impression was correct – Volkswagen didn't make such cars themselves. The Crafter 4Motion model was professionally modified by the specialized company Achleitner, which turned ordinary cars into real off-road vehicles. I assumed that there wouldn't be many such cars driving around in the country.

"You'll stay at a distance, and at the moment anything smells fishy, you'll run. We'll stay in touch with prepaid card phones. You'll buy them tomorrow in a big city, preferably in Ostrava. I'll investigate up close. Today, I'll visit someone."

"Who?" Evelyn wanted to know.

I pulled out a hotel card that I found on one of the dead bodies.

"AGH Hotel, Roznov pod Radhostem. It's close, everything is close here."

This was a small country. I had forgotten that during my time away. Now it came in handy.

For a moment, I contemplated which car to take, and then I risked it with the Octavia. I hoped those four policemen had enough sense to hide from their benefactors instead of helping them in the search. Too bad we didn't have new cars yet.

* * *

While driving, I realized I was far from okay; I even had to stop once because I felt nauseous and saw double. However, it eventually cleared up, and I could continue. I needed some rest, and I had to avoid trouble for a while.

The AGH Hotel was practically in the city center, a short distance from the square. It was a blue and white building with an intricate design, giving the impression of a half-timbered structure. A low wrought-iron fence separated it from the surroundings. I drove through the open gate and parked. I observed the activity for a while. Some guests passed by occasionally, and the receptionist paid due attention to everyone. Then luck smiled at me, and a minibus with Japanese tourists headed for the parking lot. I waited for them to occupy the reception, then entered. Without hesitation, I walked through the hall and headed upstairs. Only when I reached the floor did I orient myself and began looking for the right rooms.

According to the hotel passes, the commando occupied three Imperial suites. The glyhens shared one, and each vampire had their own. Finding the suites wasn't a problem; arrows on the walls precisely guided me. There's nothing like breaking into rooms where the occupants are dead. Then you don't have to fear surprises.

I briefly searched the glyhens' suite. I found two Benelli M4 shotguns, ammunition, and several spare magazines for the pistols they carried. In one of the vampire suites, I found a folder on the table with my personal data so precise and up-to-date that I couldn't believe it. They must have had access to military archives, even the most classified ones. And they guessed quite well what happened in the Czech Republic. There was even a note that I was severely injured but somehow managed to heal very quickly. There was nothing about my helpers. At least that.

I continued the search, but all I found was high-quality Italian clothing and in each room, a complex-looking thermos plugged into the socket. It required a code to open. Also, an expensive-looking suitcase with something resembling surgical instruments. However, subtle differences revealed that they were not intended for repairing human health but rather the opposite. The only clue about where they came from was a two-day-old receipt from the Osteria da Fortunata restaurant. Two days ago, one of them enjoyed good food in a restaurant somewhere in Italy, and now he lay dead at the bottom of the Stanovnice dam in Karolinka.

Doesn’t look like it was a good trip for him.

I sat on the bed, pulled water from the hotel minibar, and thought about what this meant for me, for us.

Originally, they had limited forces in the republic and had to call in reinforcements for us. They will probably do it again. And either they will choose the tactic of using a bigger caliber – more men with more weapons, or some specialist, as Agnieszka estimated.

I realized that I was taking risks. More than ever before in my life. And with me, Agnieszka and Evelyn. Maybe I should keep them on the sidelines, keep them completely out of it. Even just collecting and checking information could draw attention to them. If we were against people, it would be different, but like this... I considered it. I needed them. I was on the front line, in contact with the enemy, and I didn't have time for anything else. I couldn't do without them. I hoped I wouldn't regret that decision.

I didn't hear a single step, nor the creaking of the floor, just the click of an electronically controlled lock. The hotel guest occupying the room was dead, so this must have been a visit from someone else. I remained seated and waited for him to pass through the corridor to the room. In fact, them; there were more of them. And here I was trying to avoid all troubles, just my luck.

The first one looked like a post-adolescent with a nacreous patina, following the fashion of the seventies. A single glance was enough for him to know who I was. Shotguns lay on the table in front of me. I quickly grabbed one and rushed toward him. He assumed I would shoot, and he used his speed and ultra-short reaction time to dodge out of the line of fire. But I didn't plan to shoot. At least not right away. It occurred to him too late; he could only reach out his hands against the barrel. I put all my strength and body agility into the stab, and the steel penetrated satisfyingly deep between the straight abdominal muscles. The second in line, a stout middle-aged guy, awkwardly but faster than I could, pulled a pistol from an armpit holster.

But I didn't stop, and I used the shotgun butt embedded in the tough vampire's body as a support. It was a dangerously long kick, but I hit him with the arch of my foot under the chin, and with the other leg, I pushed his hand with the gun aside. He gasped just like an ordinary person with a crushed windpipe.

The third was a thirty-something guy in a modernly cut suit and narrow trousers with carefully trimmed strips of beard on his chin.

He only saw me now through his companions.

"You don't stand a chance," he informed me.

Weighing no more than seventy kilograms, even with his suit, a buttstroke to the temple sent him to the ground just like an ordinary person. But it didn't kill him.

I watched him slowly get up, his companions with pierced stomachs and crushed throats slowly dying. Too loudly for my taste.

I turned on the radio.