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“In for a penny, in for a pound,” I mutter, pocketing the pills and heading back to my car.

It doesn’t take long to cross the city. Luna’s house is a small, quaint place on a quiet street. It looks so normal, so untouched by the chaos of the past twenty-four-hours, that it’s almost jarring. I use my lock-picking skills – a questionable but useful talent for a demon hunter – to let myself in.

The moment I step inside, I know something’s wrong. The air is thick with an oppressive energy that makes my hunter instincts scream. The living room is a mess – furniture overturned, books scattered across the floor, picture frames smashed.

This isn’t just a burglary. This is a vampire’s handiwork. I can sense it.

I draw my blade. My footsteps are silent on the wooden floors as I navigate the chaos.

The kitchen is similarly ransacked, drawers pulled out and contents strewn about. But it’s not just random destruction – there’s a method to this madness. Whoever caused it was looking for something.

As I approach the bedroom, the vampiric energy intensifies. It’s like walking through syrup, each step requiring more effort than the last. My heart pounds in my chest, blood rushing in my ears.

I used to hate this sensation. Now, I thrive on it.

I pause at the closed bedroom door, listening. There’s no sound from within but that doesn’t mean much with vampires. I take a deep breath, steeling myself, then slowly turn the knob.

The door creaks open, revealing Luna’s bedroom bathed in shadows. The curtains are drawn, blocking out the sun. In the dim light, I can make out the same destruction as in the rest of the house – clothes thrown about, drawers emptied.

And there, sprawled across Luna’s bed, is a vampire.

He’s young or, at least, he was when he was turned. Couldn’t be more than twenty.

I grip my blade tighter, weighing my options. I could end him now, quickly and quietly. But a dead vampire can’t answer questions. And I want to know what the fuck he was looking for.

As I stand there, trying to decide whether to stake it or torture it, the vampire’s eyes snap open. They lock onto mine, confusion quickly morphing into hunger.

“Well,” he says, sitting up with inhuman speed, “this is unexpected.”

I raise my blade. It is silver, and sharp enough to end him with one stab to the heart. “Who sent you here?”

He grins, revealing gleaming fangs. “Wouldn’t you like to know, hunter?”

How do they always know I’m a hunter?

And then he lunges.

His speed is impressive, but I’m ready for him. I sidestep him, bringing my blade up in a swift arc. It catches him across the chest, drawing a hiss of pain and anger as his skin bubbles from contact with the silver.

We dance around the room. He’s strong but sloppy. I use that to my advantage, letting him wear himself out with wild swings and lunges.

Finally, I see my opening. As he charges me again, I drop low and sweep his legs out from under him. He crashes to the floor, and before he can recover, I’m on him, pinning him down with my blade at his throat.

“Let’s try this again,” I growl, reaching out with my free hand to yank the curtains open. Sunlight floods the room, and the vampire screams as his exposed skin begins to smoke and blister.

I shift my position, allowing a beam of sunlight to fall directly on his face. He writhes in agony, trying to turn away, but I hold him still.

“What were you looking for?”

He doesn’t answer, just writhes beneath me.

“Who sent you?” I demand, easing the sunlight off his face momentarily.

He pants, his eyes wild. “He will destroy you... all of you...”

“Who?” I press the blade harder against his throat. “Who sent you?”

Before he can answer, there’s a blur of movement behind me. I whirl around, blade at the ready, but I’m not fast enough.