William's lips trembled.
Then, in a rush—terrified and eager to please—he began to speak.
"Me and my vampires… we've been running this city from the shadows for over a century. Every resort. Every casino. Every nightclub and brothel. They're all under our control."
"Half the politicians in Chicago are either one of us or compelled by us. We've built an empire."
He swallowed thickly, his burned cheek twitching.
"We don't rule openly. Too risky. But make no mistake—we own this city. Humans just don't know it yet."
Aiken gave no reaction. The floating fireball cast dancing shadows on his face.
William hesitated. Then, after a beat, he asked:
"You're looking for Milo, aren't you?"
Aiken raised one brow.
A chair creaked across the floor, lifted by unseen force. It settled behind him.
Aiken sat.
"Yes," he said simply.
William nodded shakily, lips dry.
"Milo Heath. Five years ago, he started something. A rebellion. He gathered vampire hunters from all over the country. For a time… he was a real problem."
His eyes flicked toward the fireball. "We lost people. Good ones. Old ones. But he was smart. Careful. Never left a trace."
William hesitated, his lips trembling again, heart pounding like a drumbeat in his ears.
He didn't want to go on.
Didn't want to see what Aiken would do if he did.
But Aiken leaned forward, the fireball hovering closer to William's face—its heat now blistering.
"And then?" Aiken asked, his voice calm.
Too calm.
"B-But then..." William stuttered. "W-We decided to play dirty... w-we targeted their families a-and—"
SCHLK.
William's scream echoed through the scorched room.
His right leg had been severed just above the knee—split open by an invisible force, the wound perfectly clean.
"AHHHHHHHHHHHH!" he howled, jerking in his restraints as blood sprayed across the cracked tile.
Aiken tilted his head slightly, as if examining his work. Then he raised a hand.
A telekinetic seal zipped William's mouth shut with a faint metallic shimmer.
"Shhhhhh," Aiken whispered, almost mockingly.
He smiled—not kindly, but with slow, simmering rage behind his eyes.
Then, as casually as asking about the weather:
"And what about Alan Hill?"
William mumbled and gagged.
"Mmmh… mhmmh…"
Aiken blinked.
"Oh, right." He snapped his fingers. The telekinetic zip unraveled.
William gasped for breath, coughing and crying.
"A-Alan Hill... h-he came here a year ago... killed dozens of us... he's one of the strongest werewolves I've ever met—"
Aiken's brow furrowed.
"A werewolf?" he echoed, voice low. His eyes flashed.
"He is a werewolf…"
William nodded furiously.
"Yes, yes, that's right! I can tell you more—I know where he's been, who he's killed, where he's staying—just let me li—"
BOOM.
The hotel's front doors slammed open.
Dozens of crossbows were now trained on him—vampire hunters in dark, hardened gear, their eyes sharp, expressions cold. The metallic click of bolts being drawn back echoed like a chorus of death.
Aiken simply smiled, quickly reabsorbing his hovering fireball.
In front of the pack stood two men.
The first was tall, broad-shouldered, with raven-black hair and a perfectly groomed beard. His stance screamed "leader."
Beside him stood another man—less composed, but no less powerful. Messy brown hair clung to his sweat-damp forehead. His eyes, a deep and vivid yellow, gleamed with feral energy.
The black-haired hunter raised his crossbow a fraction higher.
"Who the hell are you?" he asked, narrowing his eyes at the man standing beside the bloodied, maimed vampire.
Aiken turned toward the brown-haired man.
And smiled—genuinely, this time.
"Hi, Dad," he said softly.
The words hit the room like a thunderclap.
The black-haired man turned, eyes flicking to his companion.
"What?"
But the yellow-eyed man—Alan—was frozen.
Recognition bloomed in Alan's face.
He took a step forward—then another—and then he was running.
Aiken barely had time to react before he was wrapped in a crushing hug, lifted from the ground by a man twice his size.
"My little kid..." Alan said, voice breaking.
"Ah—Dad, you're gonna break my ribs…" Aiken groaned, caught between laughing and gasping for air.
Alan quickly let go, hands on Aiken's shoulders as he stared at his face.
"How are you?" he asked.
Aiken shrugged, brushing soot from his coat. "Hmmh… quite good."
Alan raised an eyebrow. "How did you find me?"
Aiken smirked. "I have to say… you hid that letter really well. I didn't expect that kind of sentimental chess move from you."
Alan chuckled, but the sound was tight, choked with emotion.
Then—
"Dad?!" came a raspy, panicked voice.
Both men turned.
William was still bound to the scorched chair, leg missing, soaked in blood and sweat. His eyes bulged in disbelief.
"So you're Alan's son?!"
Aiken sighed, visibly annoyed.
"You're so annoying," he muttered.
"William Virell!" Alan barked, all warmth gone from his tone.
Every vampire hunter in the room instantly raised their crossbows toward the vampire. The tension became razor-sharp.
Alan instinctively stepped in front of Aiken, one arm outstretched, his tone suddenly all command.
"Stay back," he said sharply to the others. "He's dangerous."
The hunters hesitated, tension running down their lines like pulled wires.
But the black-haired hunter—Milo—strode forward, approaching the bound vampire.
William was a wreck. His pale skin had gone waxy and gray, sweat plastering strands of hair to his temples. One leg was gone, a mangled stump soaked in blood. Vervain-soaked ropes bit into his charred flesh.
Milo crouched slightly, examining him.
His eyes narrowed. "Did you… do this?"
He turned slowly, expression unreadable, gaze settling on Aiken.
Everyone followed his lead, crossbows half-lowered, eyes darting between the vampire and the young man standing so casually beside his mutilated victim.
Aiken tilted his head.
Then he smiled.
"What do you think?" he said softly.
That smile sent a chill down their spines.
A few hunters exchanged glances. A few others took unconscious steps back. Alan said nothing, his expression unreadable—but his eyes had narrowed.
Then—
"Milo!" William suddenly shrieked, his voice raw and broken.
He lunged forward in his restraints, eyes wild and bloodshot.
"Please—please, just kill me! Don't let that monster near me again!"
The room fell utterly silent.
To be continued...
***
***
How was this chapter? Liked it?
I wrote this chapter in a rush, so sorry if it wasn't that good. If you find anything that doesn't convince you, please tell me.