Chapter 4

Victor rubbed his forehead, and saw flakes of his dying skin drop to the antique desk. He knew it wouldn't be many years before he would have no skin covering the top of his head. For at least hundred years he hadn't been able to go publicly out for he looked like what he was. A corpse, and old one at that.

"Death, mister, doesn't suit you any longer." A voice said, and Victor glanced up, surprised. He felt nor heard any presence before the voice. Even as his eyes fell upon the form of young man in tattered clothes, holding two guns, he still didn't hear a heartbeat. No natural sounds of any living being, only the man's scent betrayed his presence, but even it was mild. Distant. It was as if the scent was days old and lingered in the room.

Victor's eyes were drawn to something that clashed with his sense of reality. The young man's coat fluttered like in wind and for a moment Victor could have sworn he saw through the man. Suddenly, there was a arrhythmic beat of heart, and after several failed starts it reached a slow but strong beat. Victor would have swallowed, but his body had stopped producing spit about hundred years ago.

"That was interesting trick." He said, his voice barely a whisper, but it betrayed his fear. He had lived for five hundred years, met countless night folk and even few d-bees and he had never even heard of anyone capable doing something like this.

"Last one you'll ever see." The man said and grinned ferally.

Victor's eyes fell upon the yellow eyes that glittered unnaturally. The eyes didn't blink, and seemed to stare right in to your soul without any compassion. The grin revealed set of canines so sharp and prominent that momentarily Victor thought he was looking at a vampire before he realized the absurdity of the thought.

"I don't doubt you." Victor said finally. "May I know why?"

"I was paid." He lifted his guns. "This is for Gregory, Yuri and Nikolai I hear."

"Who?"

"Some people you ate up in Russia about hundred years ago or so." John said and he promptly emptied the two clips in to the old corpse.

Then he methodically replaced the clips, watching the frail corpse for any sign of reanimation. Seeing none, he took a instant photograph of the badly mangled body - he had damaged the head minimally for this purpose. Went through the antiques in the shelves, and finally picked a small pedant. Then he took a belt of six termite bombs with their pins tied together with a cord, and pulled. He threw the bombs to the lap of the vampire, and exited the room.

As he was hurrying down the street, he typed a message with his phone, sending it to a memorized number.

HEY MOM, JOB'S DONE, I'LL SEE YOU SOON.

He was long gone when the old antique store burst in sudden flames, the flames burned several people who had been examining the contents of the window display. No one was seriously hurt, but the police suspect that there was a criminal element involved and the investigation is underway.

John stood next to a tree at the outskirts of the city. He had sent the final message, before putting the phone through grinder. He was to meet with his employer here, deliver the photo and say goodbye. He usually didn't meet face to face with his employers, but this one had insisted.

He wasn't worried. His instincts said that this was nothing malignant.

The sound of footsteps alerted him, and he turned to look at the approaching figure. She looked as if she was maybe in her twenties, barely. She was beautiful and her complexion was regal and quite clearly Slavic. Additionally, she was quite dead.

He had been expecting something like this.

"Good day." She said stopping in front of him, her voice mellifluous. She had preserved herself well. Only the pale skin gave her away outright. There were other small hints, but they could be ignored. She was the first vampire who didn't offend John's sharp senses.

"Good day." John said, and gave her the photo along with the pedant. "I have to say that for one hundred years old, you have been able to take excellent care of yourself."

She stared the photo for a while, then turned to look at him and smiled. "Thank you. Twenty years ago only doctor could have spotted my condition. Sadly, these last decades have been hard."

"You are still beautiful." John said, without any pretense.

"Thank you." She turned to look at the dawn, in the distance a column of smoke rose from the city. "Is that him?"

"Yes. There will be nothing left of him. Not even ashes."

"Thank you."

He smiled. "No problem, you're paying me. Although this case has been longer than I thought it would be. I need a vacation, for a moment there I was acting like a machine," John paused. "I need to unwind before I can rewind myself, if that makes any sense to you."

"I think it does, John," she said. "I know quite a lot of you. I didn't choose you by random."

"Figures." John said, with a smile. He looked at her. "Now what?"

She shrugged. "I have finally avenged my father, my brother, and my beloved. From all of them, I was the only to rise again. I hunted him down, and sent dozens of men after him. Only you survived." She looked at him. "Now, I can rest."

They stood there, quietly, watching the sun rise.

"I wanted to sit here, watch the sun rise and burst in flames as it consumed me." She turned to look at him. "But..." she gave a small sad smile and shrug.

"I know. Real life lacks proper drama." John said. "Now all you'll get is a sunburn."

She laughed, it reminded John of the chime of bells.

"Can I indulge you in a small drink?" John said, offering her a glass. He had brought a bottle of his favorite mixed drink, as he had planned to unwind properly once the meeting was done. But the situation seemed to have approached sooner than he thought. He knew she couldn't taste it very well, so it really didn't matter what he had, as long as he liked it.

She looked at the glass for a moment, then smiled. "I am afraid that I do not drink ... wine." she said with a sad imitation of dracula's accent.

He laughed, it was the first time in months and it seemed to relive all the tension from his body. He grinned at her. "Ah, I love a woman with sense of humor."

"Really, I thought it would not do in my condition to drink alcohol." She said.

"No, if you wish to live for a very long time, it does not. I don't think you care about that. Also as an interesting side effect, you can get drunk very easily."

"Ah." She said. "I am afraid I won't taste much."

"Who cares?" John said grinning and filled her glass. "It is your last buzz, so enjoy it. Soon you'll be in heaven, and you better enjoy this because the rumor is that up there you won't be doing drinkin' nor fuckin'."

She laughed, and took a drink.

They sat down and proceeded to demolish the contents of the bottle while talking. By the end of the bottle, the evening was soon to set. They had spent over eight hours talking animatedly about everything and anything. As they watched the gradually sky darken, she smiled. She was a little drunk, even thought John had drank most of the bottle. Her body could not handle alcohol nearly as well it was supposed to, and she was feeling pleasantly lightheaded and carefree.

The alcohol, the completion of her quest and the excellent company she had enjoyed for the day had her feeling pretty good, and she felt bittersweet emotions run through her as she thought about the quickly approaching death.

"It's been a pleasure, but it is getting late. Do you wish to retire now?" John asked her.

She giggled. "Retire. Such a pleasant way to say it. Yes, I think I am ready to finally sleep. I have enjoyed these last sinful moments with you more than any other day in hundred years. Thank you for that." She said.