Ethan's eyes flew wide open, pupils dilating from the sudden rush of adrenaline.
He spun around sharply.
In front of him stood a vampire in an expensive dark suit, black, perfectly tailored, custom-made, without a single crease. The fabric had a subtle sheen under the lights, fine wool probably blended with something synthetic to resist wrinkling.
The white shirt beneath the jacket was immaculate, the narrow tie a deep burgundy that looked almost black in this lighting.
His hands were clasped behind his back, relaxed yet firm, like a teacher who has come to deliver a reprimand and knows the student won't dare object.
The vampire's face was calm, almost flawless, high cheekbones, straight nose, thin lips that were not pressed into a line. His skin carried a tanned tone, he didn't at all match the classic fairy-tale vampire archetype.
His eyes were cold, glassy, pale gray with the faintest reddish glint deep inside, like embers buried under ash.
He looked down at Ethan, not with contempt, but with that frigid courtesy which feels worse than contempt.
«We need to talk», he said quietly, each word dropping like a bead of mercury.
Ethan felt his throat tighten. His breathing turned shallow and quick. He didn't step back, not because he was brave, but because his legs suddenly refused to move. The metal locker behind him became his only anchor.
The vampire did not remove his hand from Ethan's shoulder. The fingers tightened slightly, not painfully, but enough to make resistance impossible.
The locker room suddenly felt smaller. The fluorescent lights flickered harder, once, twice. Somewhere in the corner a faulty faucet dripped steadily.
A thick silence hung between them, heavy like smoke.
This is no random club patron, Ethan realized. This is exactly what Flash warned me about.
And it came sooner than I had time to decide what to do.
«Our superiors believe there is unfinished business», the vampire said.
His voice remained even, almost gentle, yet it carried the same clinical precision he likely used when signing execution orders.
юHe didn't raise his tone, he simply stated a fact as casually as if discussing the weather or delivery schedules.
Ethan took half a step back. His spine pressed against the cold metal of the locker, a familiar, almost comforting sensation. He tried to keep his face neutral, but anxiety was already showing.
His pupils widened, breathing quickened slightly, fingers curled involuntarily into fists. Cold sweat prickled on his palms.
«I already told you I won't take your money», he answered quietly and firmly. His voice came out hoarse, raw from the shift and everything that had built up inside, his throat burned.
The vampire smiled slowly, only the corner of his mouth lifting, as though repeating a gesture long rehearsed in front of a mirror. The smile never reached his eyes, they stayed glassy and motionless, like a mannequin in a shop window.
«Yes», he said softly. «I know».
He paused, exactly long enough for the words to hang in the air and begin to press down.
«But I came to suggest you reconsider».
The vampire shifted forward half a step. The movement was almost imperceptible, just a subtle redistribution of weight, smooth as a shadow sliding along a wall. Yet the air immediately grew colder. The locker-room smells, sweat, cheap deodorant, old paint, receded before the faint, barely detectable scent of the vampire's cologne.
Goosebumps tightened the skin on the back of Ethan's neck. His heart struck once, hard, then twice, and settled into an unnaturally steady rhythm, as though bracing for something inevitable.
The vampire's voice, silky, smooth as a razor gliding across skin, slid past Ethan's ears, down his neck, along his spine.
«Five thousand».
He slowly drew from the inside pocket of his jacket a pristine white envelope, thick, expensive paper with a subtle silver border embossed along the edge.
The envelope looked obscenely clean in this place, too white, too perfect amid the peeling lockers and wet floors.
He held it between two fingers, lightly, almost carelessly, yet angled so Ethan could clearly see the thick, even stack of bills inside, bound with a rubber band like a deck of cards.
«And the matter is closed», he continued in the same velvety tone. «We will forget about your… girl».
He pronounced the last word a fraction slower, with an artificial note of regret so calculated it felt like mockery, as though he had tasted someone else's grief and found it slightly bland.
Ethan stared at the envelope, not at the vampire, but at the white paper, the silver border, the tiny glints of light reflecting off it.
Memories flooded back, her hand in his, the ring falling into a puddle, the sealed coffin under the rain.
He slowly lifted his gaze.
His eyes met the vampire's.
«You think this settles everything», he asked quietly. His voice trembled, not from weakness.
«You give me a bribe, I forget, and you close the file».
The vampire did not answer immediately.
He merely tilted his head slightly, as though studying an exhibit in a museum.
«That resolves most matters, Mr. Hitcher», he said at last. «Most people prefer to go on living. With money. With memories that fade over time. With the chance to buy a new life».
He extended the envelope a little closer, not insistently, yet unmistakably.
«Take it and it ends. We forget about your girl», he added with a soft smile.
The vampire paused for the briefest fraction of a second, just long enough for the air in the locker room to thicken even more.
He seemed to savor the taste of fear on his tongue, sampling it like a rare vintage — a slight tilt of the head, a barely perceptible flare of the nostrils, the corner of his mouth twitching.
«And about you», he added quietly, almost tenderly.
The words fell into the silence like drops of blood into water, slowly, spreading in widening rings.
Ethan clenched his fists so hard his nails dug into his palms. The skin over his knuckles stretched white, old cracks reopened, thin red lines he didn't even notice. His whole body tensed at once, shoulders, back, neck, like a string pulled to the breaking point.
The envelope in the vampire's fingers trembled, only slightly, but Ethan saw it. As though the paper itself had sensed his anger and reacted like something alive.
«And if I don't take it», he asked hoarsely, forcing the words past his constricted throat. His voice cracked, yet the fear had drained from it, replaced by exhausted, heavy stubbornness.
The vampire's smile stretched wider, unnaturally wide, like a crack in porcelain revealing something dark and hungry beneath.
His teeth flashed, too white, too even, with the faint suggestion of fangs.
«Then we both know what happens next».
His eyes had darkened to near black now, the bloody-red glint inside them flared brighter, almost pulsing, as though a small, vicious fire had finally been allowed to burn freely.
Ethan had always wondered how to tell a vampire from a human. It turned out to be simple.
Provoke one, and you will see deep hollows appear beneath the eyes, while ordinary human canines lengthen into two razor-sharp points.
The lips parted slowly, savoring the moment. The fangs gleamed under the fluorescent lights, long, sharp, faintly yellowish at the base, as though they had already tasted blood many times and knew its flavor well.
The corners of the mouth twitched upward, not in a smile, but in a snarl that hid nothing.
«You made your choice», he said quietly, but the velvet was gone from his voice now. Only a low, growling undertone remained, as though the words were forced through a throat already full.
He regarded Ethan the way a predator stops playing with prey.
The gaze no longer studied him.
The head tilted slightly to one side, an animal gesture, choosing the exact place to bite, precise, instinctive, without wasted motion.
Ethan felt a chill race down his spine, not fear, but something deeper, almost physical, as though his body already knew what came next.
His heart beat raggedly, loudly, so loudly he thought the vampire could hear every thump.
«Well then»
Ethan tried to smile.
It came out pathetic, lips trembling, corners dragging upward while his eyes stayed empty. There was no trace of humor in his voice.
«If I don't take the money, are you going to kill me?»
The words hung in the air, hoarse, cracked.
He did not step back. He simply stood, staring straight into those red eyes, and waited for the answer.
The vampire did not reply immediately.