Blood and Burning

2

Conrad Fife came from a long line of skilled hunters. He had two older brothers, but they were both dead—killed on the job, as many vampire hunters were.

Conrad hadn't outlived them because he was a better hunter, though.

No, Conrad didn't hunt at all.

He hid behind Albrecht's tall, brick walls and carefully manicured courtyards. Albrecht was established by his grandparents, and based on the knowledge that he spent the entirety of his childhood among the likes of so many excellent hunters, he probably had the potential to be a force to be reckoned with.

But instead, he was just Conrad.

He had access to an endless stream of old money, in addition to the funding he received that kept Albrecht running. He operated under the guise of this place being a highly-prestigious university, one that carefully hand-picked its students. In other words, most of our hunters were transfers from other vampire hunting organizations, or they were recruited from families like Conrad's.

Hannah and I were also the children of hunters. But, unfortunately for us, we were orphaned at ages nine and six, respectively. Conrad's parents were close friends with ours, and somehow, we wound up in the care of the Fife family after their death.

I didn't know the full story, but I was certain it was illegal, by regular, human society's standards.

I received specialized training from a young age, and I followed a nearly impossibly demanding training schedule for years. Conrad’s family molded me into the kind of merciless, sadistic monster they were known for regularly churning out.

Hannah, on the other hand, expressed no desire to hunt, much like Conrad. Just a few months after their wedding, Conrad’s parents died in a freak car accident.

Albrecht was situated beneath the cloudy skies of Pullman, Washington, surrounded by thick woods and heavily guarded by big, beefy men at two separate security checkpoints. Its layout was similar to a typical university’s, I imagined—we had classrooms and a library and a gym.

We also had a system of never ending basement hallways leading to rooms full of weapons and rooms designated for experimentation on the monsters we captured. We had vampire holding cells, and a laboratory, where Conrad’s scientists concocted his vampire drugs.

But most importantly, at that very moment at least, we had an infirmary. And they knew me very well in the infirmary—I was close friends with one of the attendants.

By the time I’d walked all the way across campus from the basement from hell, I was feeling a little lightheaded. Blood loss and the beaming, mid-morning sun were doing me no favors.

The infirmary door was painted a deep crimson color with matching vinyl lettering on the doorlight. I stepped inside and I was happy to see Johnny, my close friend, sitting at the attendant’s desk, leaned far back in his chair with his feet kicked up on the desktop, ankles crossed.

He looked up from his phone and frowned. “What did you do this time?”

I rolled my eyes. “I didn’t do anything. I guess I didn’t catch the vampire’s name.”

“Cleanup in the demonstration room, huh?”

“Yeah.” I breezed past him to the nearest exam table. “I’m sure you knew I’d be here.”

The infirmary was a fairly small space with the attendant’s desk and a wall of counters and cabinets on the left side of the room. There was a bathroom in the back left corner, and a storage room that was the length of the back wall. The right side of the room was arranged with three exam tables in a row, with fabric dividers hanging from the ceiling between them.

Johnny stood up from his chair. “Did you at least get one good punch in?”

“Before I f*****g decapitated him?” I asked.

“Yeah.”

“No.”

“Shame.”

Johnny was tall and he was leanly muscled. His blond hair swept to the left and was shaved on the sides. He had tea green eyes and a round face.

The last time he was dispatched for a hunt, he barely survived, and unlike me, he chose to step down from his position as a hunter. He managed to keep all of his limbs and digits, but he was covered in scars from that fateful encounter. There was a gnarly-looking, raised one that stretched up the side of his neck from beneath the hem of his sweater.

The paper on which I sat crinkled as I shifted my weight. I idly swung my feet back and forth as I gripped the edge of the table. Johnny washed his hands at the sink and then pulled on a pair of latex gloves. He stooped in front of me and leaned one hand on my thigh. I grimaced when he pinched the gash on my cheekbone closed.

“You can get away with steri strips,” he said, and then he pursed his lips. “Probably.”

I exhaled a sigh of relief. I f*****g hated stitches.

He gave me a cup of ice water while he gathered his supplies. I watched him move about the room, and he tossed things onto the table next to me—a syringe for irrigation, some gauze and a white towel, and the steri strips.

Before he changed his gloves, he slapped my knee. “Stop kicking.”

I obeyed, but not without a scoff. He covered my eye with the gauze, and he handed me the towel to hold onto my cheek. He cleaned my wound and applied the steri strips, and then he produced a little mirror with a handle from a drawer.

I frowned when I saw my reflection. My eye was already turning purple, and the swelling spread down past the gash and over my cheek.

“He got you good, Hazy,” Johnny commented.

“Yeah, well, I killed him.” I handed the mirror back to him.

“Scarring shouldn’t be too bad,” he said, as he returned the mirror to the drawer. “Just take care of it.”

“Yeah, I know. Thanks, Johnny.”

“You got dinner plans?” he asked.

My brow furrowed. “I thought you had a date with Adam tonight?”

Johnny shook his head and said, “He canceled on me.”

“Again?!”

He sighed. “Yeah. I don’t know how much longer I’m going to wait around for him to decide whether he wants a relationship.”

“Johnny, I told you this the last time he cancelled on you last minute. Kick his ass to the curb.”

He shrugged noncommittally. “He’s cool when he does show up. Good sense of humor. Great fuck.”

Before I could respond, the radios on my belt and on Johnny’s desk came to life with the sound of Hannah’s voice.

“Hazel, can you please stop by Conrad’s office?”

Johnny and I exchanged frowns. Still, I responded, “I’ll be there shortly.”

“What could they possibly want you for?” Johnny mused.

“I told everyone who attended that demonstration that vampires out in the real world will f**k them up, in short.”

Johnny snorted.

“They’re probably gonna b***h about it,” I continued. “Can’t think of any other reason.”

“Well, what do you want me to bring for dinner?”

I shook my head and said, “Don’t bring anything. We’ll order something.”

“So, just bring my pajamas?”

A smile spread across my lips. “Yes.”