The peace didn't last.
Whispers began in the alleys, carried on the wind like rumors of plague. Vampires found drained and left to rot. Humans disappearing without a trace.
At first, Jamie thought they were isolated acts—accidents of hunger or recklessness. But Viktor's expression grew darker with each report.
"There's a pattern," he said one night, spreading a map across the old oak table in his sanctuary. The place was lit only by candlelight, their flames trembling like nervous hearts. "Whoever's doing this isn't hunting for need. They're sending a message."
Jamie leaned over the table. The marks on the map formed a ring around the heart of New Haven. "What kind of message?"
"That restraint is weakness."
The words came from one of the elders—a woman named Selene, her eyes hard as glass. "They call themselves The Red Hand," she continued. "They reject the old laws. They feed as they wish, and leave their kills in the open to taunt us. Their leader… calls himself Darius."
Jamie's stomach twisted. "You've met him?"
Viktor nodded slowly. "Long ago. Before the Veil was formed. He believes vampires should rule over humankind, not hide among them."
"And you think he's behind all this?"
"I don't think, child. I know." Viktor's voice was iron. "If he continues, the humans will notice. They'll come for us with fire and light. Centuries of secrecy undone by one man's arrogance."
Jamie could feel the tension in the room, a current of fear threaded through the air. The others murmured among themselves, some angry, some afraid. She watched Viktor, the faint silver of his hair catching the candlelight, and realized he wasn't just worried—he was preparing for war.
"What do we do?" she asked.
For a long moment, Viktor said nothing. Then he turned to her, eyes like cold steel. "We act. Before Darius does. Before the peace we've built crumbles to ash."
That night, Jamie couldn't rest. She wandered the underground corridors, her mind a storm of thoughts.
She'd come so far from the girl who woke in the dark with blood on her throat. She'd found purpose, belonging, control. And now it felt like all of it was slipping away.
Above ground, New Haven slept—quiet, unknowing.
Jamie stood at the mouth of an alley, watching the city breathe. She could hear the faint music from a distant bar, laughter echoing between buildings. It was fragile, that sound. Human. Beautiful.
She couldn't let it vanish.
When she returned to the sanctuary, Viktor was waiting. "You shouldn't be alone tonight," he said softly.
"I'm not afraid," she replied.
"I know." His gaze softened. "That's what worries me."
Jamie stepped closer. "If Darius threatens what you've built, then let me help. I can fight."
Viktor studied her in silence, the faintest flicker of pride—or maybe sorrow—passing over his face. "There will come a time when you must. But understand this, Jamie: strength is not in how you strike, but in what you protect."
"I know what I'm protecting," she said.
Viktor gave a single nod. "Then prepare yourself. The night is changing."
And somewhere beyond the walls of their refuge, in the deepest part of the city, a man with eyes like coals and a smile like a blade raised a goblet of crimson and said,
"To the new age. Let the old world burn."
The wind outside shifted.
The first storm had begun to gather