Anemoi 25 – Anemoi 26, Imperial Year 1645
The Capital, Luminara – The Hunters' Hall
The door chimed. Elara looked up. Her pen stopped.
Vlad entered. Black coat, silver buttons. Wide‑brimmed hat, shadowing his face. He carried a sack over his shoulder. It was heavy. It dripped.
The room didn't go quiet. It had already been quiet. Now it was still.
He walked to the counter. His boots made no sound. The sack swung gently.
He set it down. A wet thud.
Margot looked up from her ledger. Her eyes moved from the sack to his face. She couldn't see his eyes. The brim was too low.
"Alucard."
"Witches," he said.
He opened the sack. Reached in. Pulled out a head by the hair. Dark hair. Pale skin. Eyes open. He set it on the counter.
Margot didn't flinch.
Another head. Grey hair. Mouth open, teeth broken. Set beside the first.
Another. Young. Blonde. A scar across her cheek.
Another. Another. Another.
Six heads. Lined up on the counter. The smell was thick.
Elara pressed her sleeve to her nose. Margot didn't.
"Six," Vlad said.
"Six," Margot repeated. She made a note. "The bounty is twelve hundred silver."
"I want it all."
"All?"
"I need it."
She didn't ask why. She counted coins. Silver, heavy, clinking. Stacked them on the counter.
"Twelve hundred."
He swept them into a pouch. Tied it to his belt.
"There's a coven in the north valley," Margot said. Her voice was steady. "Seven of them."
"I'll take it."
"You don't want to rest?"
"Witches don't rest."
He turned to leave.
Elara spoke. "Alucard."
He stopped.
"The heads." She gestured to the counter. "What do we do with them?"
"Burn them."
"We usually—"
"Burn them."
He left. The door chimed.
The Table – Orin's Group
Orin had been watching. He hadn't touched his cup.
"Six," he said. "In one hunt."
"He's been gone three days," Dain said. "That's two a day."
"Two witches a day."
"He doesn't sleep."
Isolde shook her head. "He doesn't rest. There's a difference."
Finnian was staring at the heads. Margot was already wrapping them in oilcloth. "He doesn't keep trophies. He just wants the coin."
"Why does he need coin?" Selene asked.
No one answered.
The Counter – Aftermath
Margot tied the last sack. "Take these to the incinerator," she told Elara.
"Why me?"
"Because I'm old and you're young."
Elara picked up the sack. It was heavy. She carried it to the back room.
When she returned, Margot was washing the counter. The wood was stained.
"He's getting faster," Elara said.
"He's getting colder."
"Is that possible?"
Margot didn't answer. She scrubbed.
End of Chapter One Hundred Nine