The First Prince

Sera's POV

Usually, the Grand Parade dance floor would be pulsing with life, packed silhouettes of gullible humans lost in loud, entrancing music.

And under the cover of the dim glows of neon lightning, flickering in different colors, the vampires would feast. They would dig their fangs in the necks of their victims and drink, sparing nothing in relieving their insatiable hunger.

Except Fabian Cruz had just one rule. Never drink a human to death. But it wasn't always obeyed, especially by the elite vampires, who received VIP treatment in the club. There were always corpses being smuggled out through the backdoor the next mornings.

Still, humans flock to the place like flies to poop. But tonight, only a small number of humans throbbed to the loud music on the dancefloor.

I clutched my purse tight to my side as I joined them. Doing so makes me a ready meal for the leeches. But I had to blend in. Sitting and observing from the bar didn't seem like an option tonight.

I carried my eyes around carefully, observing stealthily as I pretended to be swayed by the loud and dreary music, jumping and throwing my hands in the air.

The vampires were yet to feast. They loitered lazily around the bar, a stretch of polished curve around the dance floor. They pretended to drink while stealing glances on the dance floor.

I read the hate and anger swirling in their eyes. There were no meals for them tonight. The few humans let in seemed to be reserved for the elites. The top ranks of the vampire hierarchy, watching quietly from behind elevated VIP lounges and booths, beyond the main floor and directly overlooking the dancefloor below.

I searched around the VIP lounges with my eyes keenly.  That seemed where the princes would be. My search ended on two VIPs with the most guards, and I knew instinctively that I had found them—Adrian and Cassian Valerius—the two vampire princes.

They sat directly opposite each other on both sides of the lounge. Screen by smoked glass booths. Their guards, big and burly vampires, formed a tight perimeter around them so that it was impossible to glimpse their faces or even get near them. Yet, I had to find a way around that. My entire mission rested on getting near, as far as my sword could reach.

I continued to sway carelessly to the music, with my eyes still following the happenings in the lounge above. And while I watched, I made plans.

There was no attempt to provoke each other. Yet, the tension between the brothers and their guards held the whole club by its balls. It mixed into the warm air of the club, making it so stifling, I felt the hairs on my nape stand just by watching. Everyone in the club felt it, except my gullible folks forever caught up in the cocoon of the dreary music. Both teams of guards stared at each other intensely, watching every slight movement the other made closely.

One wrong move from both camps, and the whole club could descend into a battlefield faster than the blink of an eye.

Every eye was on the brothers, everyone watching, keen on how the night would unfold.

Not long after, one of the brothers rose gently to his feet, stepping away from his booth. Two guards followed closely behind him, while the rest lingered around the booth.

Hidden behind a wall of dancing bodies, my gaze still following the vampire prince and his men as they made their way downstairs, I fetched my folded sword from my purse and hid it from view with my palm.

“Showtime, girl,” I muttered and grinned to myself, sashaying from the dancefloor. I followed behind the vampire prince stealthily as he turned into the corridor leading to the restroom.

I kept close, knowing he couldn't pick up my scents, another perk of being a vampire hunter. Unlike ordinary humans, I had no particular scent.

I had no idea if this particular prince had already been blooded as Nix predicted, but I couldn't give up this opportunity. I might not get another chance of being alone with the vampire prince again. Even the probability that I would be arranged as a meal for either of the princes was low.

The princes I could still bear, but another vampire sticking its miserable fangs into me—I’d sooner forgo the mission and break the leech's neck than let the creature the chance. Blooded or not, I’d just have to handle this with my sword and skills alone. I was a Grand Hunter. I could handle a vampire prince.

Ahead, the prince disappeared into the restroom, and his men stood guard outside the door.

“You shouldn't be here, ma’am,” one of the guards said as I approached the restroom.

With a calculated and practiced motion of my hand, I unfolded my sword. And in another brief motion, the vampire’s head was sliced cleanly from his neck. It dropped to the floor with a silent thud.

“Hunte—” The other guard tried to scream as he lunged at me. I dodged his claws cleanly and countered with my sword, slicing down his neck before he could succeed with his scream.

I caught his body and helped him down to the floor so he couldn't make another thud. Then I pushed the door, charging fast into the restroom, my sword raised and ready to strike. But then, the Vampire Prince was nowhere. All I saw were empty toilet sinks, staring at me. He had varnished.

Or so I thought. I spun fast on my stiletto as the restroom door shut with a loud bang behind me. Then slowly, like a flick of magic, the vampire prince materialized before me.

I watched for his chest first. No movement. He wasn't breathing. He wasn't blooded yet.

Then I steered my eyes to his face, and for that brief moment. My sword just hung loose by my side, instead of swinging for his neck.

I had always termed vampires as vile and ugly creatures, but that would be a complete injustice to the creature before me right now.

He stood proud in his three-piece suit. Tall and lean, with emerald green eyes that darkened to a duller green as they took me in.

His features were delicate and finely wrought. Except for the large, sharp fangs that nudged his lips a bit, he could have well just stepped out of a Hollywood magazine.

Get a grip on yourself! You wouldn't ogle a leech, would you, Sera? I tightened my grip on my sword, raising it high for his neck.

He should move, dodge my attack, and trace away from it. Instead, he stood there, his emerald green eyes darkening on me. His neck raised high, welcoming my sword.

Hell. My sword froze in the air just an inch from his neck, refusing to go lower, to bring down his neck as it had brought down thousands.

Just fucking why? What the hell was happening to me?

He’d just be another kill among thousands. Why was I hesitating, even when he’d gifted me his neck for taking?

The vampire prince took a step closer towards me. His eyes were firm on mine. My sword still hung in the air beside his neck, shaking, as well as my hands, as if scared to slice him down.

His voice was low, yet it cut through me like a knife. “Take my neck, human,” he said, as he took another step towards me. He was like a predator stalking a prey. “I have long awaited the strike of your sword. I have long awaited the strike of anyone who could dare take my neck,” he said in a voice so low and heavy, it was almost hard to hear him.

He was begging for death, begging for me to deliver it to him.