Present day
Buffalo, New York
“Your markings are so unique. I once shot a piebald fawn up north. If you ever find yourself in the city, I can show you the bust. I had it articulated.” The man grinned, puffing a fat cigar.
“How sweet of you to think of your prize when you see me.” I smoothed my fingers over his lapel. “What other things have you collected? I am so curious to know. You must be a very skilled hunter.”
I couldn’t bring myself to listen. I feared I would gag.
His mouth was moving, but I could not make out a single word. I was eyeing the gold of his cuffs as his thick hand clutched his cigar. His teeth were jagged and crooked, but his fangs were the same. Somehow, even with the gift of looking youthful, this man got the short end of the stick genetically, years added from how poorly he took care of himself. He was old, older than he put on. I could tell by the fangs. They were thick and long, andthere were compliments sprinkled throughout his speech that did not read as complimentsanymore,at least not in the current year. A typical hog.
Clammy hands smoothed over the fabric of my dress, too thin of a barrier for my liking. The dress was red—it always got their appetite going. Blue was also a popular color, but more eye-catching than palatable. This dress had a low, square neckline and stayed close to my figure until it draped past the slope of my hips. Then it dragged down into a subtle train. The shine of the fabric reflected an expensive sheen, even in light as dim as a candle. I forgot what well-made fabric felt like until nights like these, as we had left most of our material belongings behind when we moved here.
One of the girls in our nest, Cordelia, was a dressmaker, though. She had fitted me with this one for hunting purposes.
There were about three known establishments in Buffalo. They were like something between Nests and Dens, which was ideal if you did not have any family connections, as many had come here for a new life. The downside was that they were creating classes of their own, and there weren’t many places to go for the civilized corrupted or Vipera without wealth.
These new American Nest-Den hybrids were like exclusive clubs, so we called them Guilds. They blended well, as there were many clubs in this city for a variety of things, and it was all the rage. Explorers Clubs, unionized organizations, and other things to pass the time. The Guilds had dress codes, and some required entrance payment or monthly dues for Vipera. They were not especially picky with Hosts, but they did favor the finer-looking women. Payment went directly from the patron to the Host, so the Guild made their money from entry fees and substances.
My hunting ground was the Northern Guild, the least sophisticated of the three that were up and coming in the area. Thegirls and I were allowed to come free of charge, but surely these buffoons paid a handsome price just to get in through the door.
I wish I could say it was difficult, luring these creatures to their death, but it was easier than doing so to a regular man. These animals lunged at the sight of a plunging neckline and a pretty face. Simple creatures, simple vices.
This particular patron had been poking his nose around my Nest for some time. He often stalked outside the apothecary, the hospital, or our house. A detective. My fears had come true, but if dealt with swiftly, he wouldn’t get far with his investigation.
“Maybe—” I cut his blundering short, “you should show me your collection, rather than tell me?”
“We’re not supposed to?—”
“What? Are you on the job?” I stared at the beads of sweat pearling at his temples.
He swallowed thickly and answered with a nervous laugh.
“Do you always listen to whatothermen tell you to do?”
He shifted in his seat, puffing his chest at the insinuation that he listened to anyone but himself.
Like I said, easy.
He stood, his sweaty hands fumbling with the buttons of his jacket before extending one out to me.
I smiled, possibly too wide, as I could feel my lips pull taut. We were almost done; this one would be the last for tonight.
“Let us use the other door.” I led him in the opposite direction, to the side entrance.
“We will have to go out front for the carriage—” he said as we stepped into the alleyway.
“No need; why don’t we wait here?” I held him closer by his coat collar.
The apples of his cheeks grew red; his eyes were glassy. I wouldn’t be surprised if when I opened him up, there was a surplusof fat around his heart and liver from overconsuming more than his fill of humans, even by Vipera standards.
Clang!
A metal rod clashed with the back of his head. He collapsed like a piece of cinder.
“What took you so long?”
“I went to the other alley first!” Edith clutched a crowbar. She was dressed in fitted men’s clothes, black from head to toe, even her head covering. We had a strict uniform for when we hunted, the dark clothing hiding us better in the night and obscuring our features.
