The pink-haired girl looked terrified. She didn't belong here at all. Her hoodie was bright pink, topped with floppy bunny ears.
A ruffled mini skirt swayed above white lace-trimmed shirt sleeves, the whole outfit straight out of a lolita fashion catalogue.
She looked like an anime character in the 2000s who had wandered into the wrong world.
"Hiii! I-I'm sorry! I didn't do anything wrong!"
Seamus loosened his grip on her arm, but before he could speak, the system flashed a notification before his eyes.
[A Vampire spotted! Do you want to make her your target?]
His breath caught. He scanned her from head to toe. She didn't look like any vampire he'd ever seen—at least, not like the ones he had crossed paths with so many times before.
Still, a vampire was a vampire. And every vampire he had loved, fought beside, or shared a bed with had been anything but innocent.
"Don't play dumb. You're a vampire, aren't you? You should know who I am. Which covenant are you from?"
The girl squeezed her eyes shut like a child bracing for punishment.
"Y-yes, I know! But I won't hurt you, I promise! I'm not evolved yet! Please, have mercy!" Her voice cracked, trembling.
His frown deepened. "Who told you about me?"
"Uh… my family?"
"Family? One of the Seven Great Covenants?"
Her pupils dilated. That reaction told him everything—she understood exactly what he was talking about.
If she really was tied to one of those great houses, he couldn't just make her an enemy. A war between such powers would be a disaster. But that also meant—
"Do you know Viviane? Are you working with her?"
The girl jerked as if struck. "How do you know… are you a vampire too?"
'Damn it. So Viviane is planning something big,' he thought, his chest tightening.
'Could she be the one who leaked the information? But Madeline said…' He shook his head sharply. No time for that. He had to find his girlfriend first.
"I'm not from a great covenant," the girl blurted. "Just a normal one. And… I shouldn't have told you anything." She bit her lip hard.
"Then take me to Viviane and tell me her plan. I won't mention your name again."
"Really? But I can't tell you everything. That would mean betraying my family." She hesitated, then added, "But she's in the mansion on the hill. Be careful, though—my family wants you."
"And you don't?"
"Um… as you can see, I'm a coward. You're faster and stronger than I, so…"
Seamus arched his brow. A vampire with no confidence—he'd never met one before. Even that savage was braver.
Still, she was… adorable. She just likes bunnies. And he could never bring himself to hurt a bunny.
"Alright, you're coming with me." He grabbed her hoodie and started dragging her toward the mansion.
"What?! You said you wouldn't involve me!" she yelped, squirming in his grip.
"That deal was only good if you told me everything."
***
Isolde's morning began with the unwelcome sight of three vampire hunters standing outside her mansion. She curled her lips in mild annoyance.
They didn't linger long, only delivering a message to her head butler, William, before leaving.
William brought her the letter, which she read with a deepening frown.
It was a formal summons, ordering her to appear at their quarters and prove her innocence.
The accusation claimed she had used her powers on ordinary humans. An act they deemed a misuse of authority and a violation of the peace treaty between humans and vampires.
She rolled her eyes. "Misuse of power? If I had truly misused my power, they wouldn't be here to complain about it. They'd be gone together with this foolish letter with them."
She tossed the paper into the fireplace and watched it curl, blacken, and crumble into ash.
"You will go, Madam?" William asked.
William, the head butler of House Velstrath, had served the family for generations. He knew all their secrets and remained fiercely loyal.
"Oh, I'll go," she said, a dangerous smile touching her lips. "And I'll give them a peace of my mind."
With that, she swept into her walk-in closet, selecting the perfect suit to meet the peasants.
***
The moment Isolde stepped out of the car, every eye turned to her. Today she wore a fitted red-and-black dress that hugged her curves, accentuating her narrow waist and full, enticing breasts.
The hem fell midway down her calves, neither too long nor too short. A wide, stylish hat cast a shadow over most of her face, adding to her air of mystery.
She walked at an unhurried pace, heels clicking against the floor, William following close behind.
Her gaze swept over the cramped quarters with open disdain, the corners of her mouth twitching in faint disgust.
One of the hunters, clearly uncomfortable under her scrutiny, quickly led her to a more suitable room for them to "discuss."
David, one of the hunters, cleared his throat. She had met him once before and left him so shattered that he had questioned his career and his very place in the world.
Today, though, he had cleaned himself up—freshly shaven, hair neatly trimmed, wearing a crisp shirt.
The effort struck her as laughable and also honorable since she also critiqued his style which looks like a slave in the 1800s, though she also complimented how fitting it was to him.
Without a word, David handed her several photographs. "These three," he said, "have been infected with Dream Host. Based on our data, you're the only one in this area with the unique power to do it."
Isolde glanced at the photos as though he'd handed her a menu from a restaurant she didn't eat at.
"If I were the one who attacked them," she said, voice smooth as silk, "do you really think they'd still have mouths to tell the tale? Or heads, for that matter?"
No one answered.
"This is not only absurd," she continued, lounging back in her chair, "it's insulting."
"You drag me here over three strangers, shove their photographs in my face, and expect me to grovel for your forgiveness? I should invoice you for the time you've wasted."
"Then who did it?"
Another hunter asked, a middle-aged woman with Betty stitched on her shirt. "You expect us to believe you so easily? You could be lying."
Isolde tilted her head, smiling sweetly. "Could be. Or maybe you're simply desperate for a villain, and I'm the only one you can spell the name of."
"Tell me, Betty, is your investigation always this… breathtakingly incompetent?"
"Do you have proof it was me? Or is this just your excuse to start an altercation? Because if it is, I'd be delighted to entertain you." Her eyes narrowed, the smile never fading.
Rising from her chair, she prepared to leave.
David and the others stood as well, weapons drawn—pistols and swords, as if they were stepping into a fairy tale.
"You think that will stop me?" she asked, arching a brow.
"No," David said evenly, "but there are a lot more hunters outside, and they're armed too. Give up, and this doesn't have to get violent."
Isolde threw her head back and laughed, clutching her stomach in mock delight.
"Oh, humans… such adorable little things. Always convinced that numbers make you dangerous."
"You could line up the entire quarter outside and I'd still have time to finish my tea before you touched me."
Her crimson eyes gleamed, her smile widening like a monster ready to shred her prey.