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Rated: 18+ · Fiction · Fantasy · #983994
Chapter 1. Intro to Saeth's life, and the death of her last mark.
This is the first chapter of many, hopefully, about Saeth, lay line witch and assasin seciallising in vampires. I would really appreciate any feedback, to give me ideas for following chapters! Tell me what you guys think!!



Chapter 1

I pulled my red coat close around me. It was cold, and the snow didn’t help. The icy wind whipped it against my face, the scarf proving to be of little protection.
Finally my mark emerged from the church. He’d been in there for hours and it was now well gone 3am. I wondered what he had been doing in there, but not for very long. After all, it wasn’t my concern, nor would it be his in a few minutes time.
He was wearing a black trench coat, the sort you see in mobster films. If you ignored the innocent face, it helped with the illusion that he was some big bad nasty. In reality I have no idea. I never have any idea. But that doesn’t stop me, does it.
The man, his name, as it says in my file, Acheron Dalais, rounded the corner of the church. Out of site, I pulled my dagger from my bag. It was old, but well cared for. The inscriptions on the blade were ancient, as old as the blade itself. The magic was still good though. It was a killing spell, to bind the soul to the body, so it dies with it. You needed stuff like that for the dead. Vampires, contrary to popular belief, have souls; they just don’t always stay in their bodies. It’s not like their souls are the same as ours though. I don’t know what it is about them, somehow, when their human selves die, their souls change. To kill them, you have to kill their souls, and when they’re hurt bad, or ‘die’ for the day, their souls vacate while the body repairs itself.
This is the problem people like me have. The bodies can’t die without the soul’s death as well. And when you kill the body, the soul leaves. It returns when the body has healed itself. The only exception is when daylight or fire destroys the body entirely. Then the soul cannot return, and it is trapped. There are few exceptions to that rule. There have been cases when a really powerful or really old vamp, and usually those go hand in hand, have been able to take over the body of a lesser vamp, when their body is dead. Sort of a like defence mechanism. That’s why you trap the soul. No soul, no vamp coming back from the dead. Thankfully, my mark was neither old, nor powerful.
I followed him round the church, blade out. The guy had no idea I was there. Just the way I like it.
I turned the corner, and he wasn’t there. Shit. Where the hell had he gone? Cursing, I fumbled with my bag, looking for my seeking charm, when something grabbed me from behind, pinning my arms to my sides. I knew instantly it was my mark. Shit.
“Bitch,” he hissed in my ear, “did you really think I would be that easy?”
There was a sharp pain at my neck as his fangs pierced the skin. I could hear his voice in my head, whispering to me, “I’m not going to make this easy for you, Saeth; I’m going to make sure you feel every drop of blood leaving you.”
The pain intensified, it felt as though he was tearing at my neck, and drawing out every drop of me into him by fire. I couldn’t think past the pain, couldn’t think of anything but the pain. My vision began to fade, and I knew that if I didn’t do something, I would die. I felt for my knife. It was still in my hand, I had forgotten it. I almost laughed, my saving grace, and I had forgotten about it. Twisting the knife round in my hand, I drove the blade backwards and into my marks side. He released me, and I stumbled. I could feel blood trickling down my neck, my blood. I refused to touch it, although, it was oh so tempting. In all my 23 years, I had never been bit, not once, and then this lame ass mark, who’s not even worth my fee, gets me. It had been a long day.
Acheron looked down at his wound. It looked nasty.
Where the blade had bit into his flesh, blood poured. Where a regular wound from a regular blade would have healed instantly, the charmed blade had ensured that it couldn’t heal. It never would, not that he would live past tonight to find out.
“Bitch,” he hissed, “You’ll pay for this!”
He lunged at me, and I twisted round, planting the blade squarely in his chest. He turned back to look at me, unbelieving. I walked forward, not letting him see just how wobbly I was. I stepped up close to him, looking up to meet his eyes (seeing as I’m only 5’4”, I generally have to look up) and pulled out the dagger. His eyes went wide, and he gasped silently as he slid to the floor. I watched as the life slipped from his eyes.
This is when the magic happens. Vamps souls are different, and when they die, well… it’s amazing.
I watched as his soul tried to escape through the eyes. Flames burned behind them, golden and captivating. I always loved this part.
It was different this time though. Maybe it was the blood loss, but this time, it pulled at me. The flame seemed to draw me to it. Unconsciously, I put my hand down to touch it, to try and save it. Fingers inches from the fire, and I felt the heat. I pulled my hand away. I didn’t know what would have happened if I had touched him, but with his mark on my neck, and his soul dying, looking for a way out, I didn’t want to. Guaranteed it wouldn’t have been good.
I pulled a lighter from my bag, a nice shiny new Zippo. I lit it, and dropped it onto the vamps dying body. I turned as he caught fire, and walked away with the warmth of his fire on my back.
I rounded the corner of the church and collapsed, sliding down the smooth wall. My vision was fading, black spots dancing across the pavilion in front of the church. I could hear sirens in the distance, probably fire engines. It would be too late now though. The flames were already dying down; soon my mark would be reduced to ash.
I tried standing, and failed. I knew being this close to a dead vamp while his body was still warm was not a good idea, especially since I had a vamp bite on my neck, still bleeding I might add, and the knife that killed him in my hand, covered in his blood. This is why you don’t get bit. You either die, or you get caught, and let me assure you, what I do, it isn’t legal.
My vision blacked out, and I could hear nothing, except the dull roar of my own blood leaving my body.
At least I’ll still get my fee.
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