Urziceni was located sixty kilometres northeast of Bucharest. At full speed, I could run fast enough to catch on fire, and cover that distance in just half a minute-but that would have drawn the wrong kind of attention. The truck was safer, even if it was standing still from my perspective. I had to constantly glance at the road, both to make sure we were moving and to avoid losing myself in my thoughts.

Because, when you're a strigoi, your minds is the last place you want to get lost in. Made you remember everything you should have never done, as well as everything you should have.

All in all, I'm surprised I lasted until forty. Most people who become like me end themselves in their twenties, at that age of passion and recklessness, when you're outraged life isn't going your way. I suppose I was unusually restrained. Maybe they'll start using me as an example in the Strigoi Society...

Damn it. Haven't I just told myself not to drift off? And the trip is still taking forever. I should have just zipped over to Urziceni, and damn the consequences. Yes, I'd have torn up the roads and probably terrified whoever I passed by, but still...

No. Stupid stunts like that would have just drawn the police to me, so they could stop me from threatening infrastructure. Or, even worse, ARC would have come.

Abnormal Research and Combat is the world's foremost supernatural authority, acting as both the bridge and the shield between the mundane and the unnatural-though who they defended from who depended on the people you asked. Unsure which division is responsible for dealing with supernatural speeders. Probably Camelot. They deal with the integration of superhumans into society.

'You'll get an unibrow if you keep frowning like that,' Mihai said from the backseat, sounding amused.

'Seriously? You're using a spell just to see my expression? Ever heard about treating your powers with respect?'

'I'm using a spell to make sure your face is in one piece. Your father can't do that and watch the road-please focus on driving, Mr Silva.'

Mihai wasn't usually this... sentimental. Or, rather, this open with his feelings. Of my friends, he was usually the most cool and collected, much to my envy. Whenever I try to seem detached, I come across as sarcastic and uninterested. It's a gift, appearing nonchalant without making people think you're an arsehole. I've never had it.

Pops briefly glanced at me, looking slightly guilty. 'Sorry, buddy. I'd do something to keep your body stable, but I doubt it would work. If it didn't harm you, that is.'

'It's alright,' I lied. God will understand. 'Let's keep going as we are and not accidentally speed things up. Everyone for it?'

There was a general murmur of agreement. From above, pacing himself not to outspeed the truck, Luci spat a gout of flame that looked vaguely like a thumbs up. I snorted despite myself.

But then, a thought came to me.

'Pops?' I started. 'Why exactly do we need to go back home? Is there something you need to do there and can't do in Bucharest?'

Pops clicked his tongue as he weaved through traffic. Every time someone flipped him off or cussed him out-usually involving his mother's orifices and dead relatives- I felt my gorge rise. I wanted to rip the truck apart, followed by their cars and bodies. I wanted to drain them of life. I wanted to shapeshift into a flea, jump down their throats, then turn into a great beast, ripping them apart from the inside. I...

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

My face must have showed something, or I must have started grinding my teeth, because pops shot me a disapproving glance. 'It seems you're not completely unfeeling, son. Road rage is hardly uncommon, but please, don't contemplate murder for my sake. It wouldn't hold up in court.'

I must have been in a really bad state if I couldn't tell whether pops was being sarcastic or not. I also couldn't help but notice he hadn't answered my question. But then, if pops had decided to put me out of everyone's misery, he would have had no reason to invite my friends along, too.

Unless he wanted them to help. But he had no reason to concern himself with that. I would never fight back or hurt him.

I wouldn't.

We reached Urziceni in just over an hour. It hadn't changed much. Once numbering fourteen thousand people, it had been destroyed and rebuilt decades ago. Now, it counted about thirty two thousand. People who wanted to be close to the capital, if needed, but not live in the bustling mess itself. I understood the feeling.

The town wasn't great in size. Dominated by a church, with chapels scattered throughout it for the townspeople's protection, it had been named for the nettle that grew in and round the place. The plant grew in carefully-controlled gardens, but sometimes sprouted from concrete, or even the sides of buildings. The legend of the town, dipping into reality with no care for the laws of nature.

Pops' house was at the edge of town-a holdover from his youth, when he patrolled Urziceni's surroundings alongside the police. Nowadays, the police was larger, with better equipment and funding, which meant pops' could concern himself with peaceful duties alone.

He'd never killed. Never killed people, that is. He tried to follow the Commandments in both letter and spirit, but, in my opinion, no being he'd ever banished, sealed or destroyed could have been considered a person.

Pops had tried to tell me that all thinking, feeling beings were children of God, and that his killing of the worse ones was nothing more than murder, but I've never shared that view. And, even if it was, his other deeds more than made up for it, in my opinion.

'Two wrongs don't make a right, David,' he'd told me. 'And good deeds don't erase your sins. Many people are victims of their nature. Most of them want to better themselves, but can't. Remember that.'

Pops parked in front of the courtyard gate. After we left the car, he made no move to open it. Strange. He usually parked inside. No one would try to break into Father Silva's car, but you never knew.

'To answer your question, David, there is someone here I believe can help you. If not...your friends and I have our methods. We'll find something,' pops said, looking around, hands on his hips.

'We believe that's our cue, Constantin,' a smooth voice said from behind me.

I turned, shocked. I hadn't sensed anyone approach.