Vlad planted his hand across her face and shoved her.
With a squeal, the girl slammed into the wall and dropped down onto her back.
At the same time, he pivoted on his heel and managed to avoid the bolt which speared out of the alley and smashed into the wall with a hard thunk.
The girl squealed again as chips of stone rained down onto her head.
"My hair!"
A small army of shadows burst into the street, weapons at the ready.
Their features were hidden behind swirling shadows which enveloped them like twisting tendrils of darkness.
He, too, knew how to do this. But he hadn't tried in this body.
In truth, he wasn't sure this body could handle the pressure of so much blood energy coursing through him. Its meridians were still shallow. Its core still too small.
Did that mean these people were vampires?
He didn't think so.
They smelled human. Interesting, then, that they'd mastered the art of shadow. Not unheard of. But not common.
He wondered why they were here. Why they'd attacked without warning.
Had the girl been bait?
What point was there in that? They didn't need her to attack from the dark. In truth, she had only made him more aware of his surroundings as he'd expected some kind of trap to trigger.
Briefly, he considered killing her first.
But she was rubbing her head and scowling. No part of her reaction showed she had any intention of violence.
He turned his attention back to the shadows as a few more drifted like spiders out of the nooks and crannies of surrounding buildings.
"Hmph," he growled, giving up on counting them after reaching ten. He heard noises on the roof above. More were there. How many? He didn't know. "So, you've surrounded me? Poor bastards. I pity you all."
Without another word, he leapt on the closest shadow.
The fresh blood he'd ingested was roaring through his veins and his heart greedily converted what was left into blood energy. The vibrant colours of the night came alive as his eyes glowed crimson.
His sword cut a neat line through the torso of a slender shadow, whose final words were a lost in a whimper.
Blood burst from flesh as though he'd been popped.
Grinning Vlad ducked another bolt and rammed the blade up under the chin of another shadow.
Then the screaming really started.
He moved without wasting steps. He had to. To preserve blood energy. Each fluid motion of the Great Sword Art flowed with deadly elegance.
Each ending with a death or cuts deep enough to incapacitate.
Whoever these people were, they were weak.
Their only advantage had been the stealth they used to sneak up on him. The way the shadows had clung to their bodies like smoke.
That advantage was gone.
"Get the girl!"
He heard these words hissed from above.
That was enough to force Vlad to leap closer to her, his sword arcing brutally. Two more shadowed figures dropped.
More blood for the street.
"Are you bastards ready to speak?" He called. "Or do you all want to die like the cowardly dogs you are? It doesn't matter to me. I will kill you all and then go drinking."
The shadows paused.
"What are you waiting for?" The voice hissed again. "Are you all so useless than a single leech can fight you? Get her!"
"No!" The girl pressed herself hard against the wall, frightened eyes wide as she stared up at him. "Please help me! I beg you!"
How troublesome, he thought.
This was none of his business, by the sound of it.
These people weren't after him.
They were after the girl. He was just collateral to them.
Should he step aside?
That would be the sensible thing to do.
But Vlad was from another time. A time when a lady might become a Bride. And Brides were not trinkets. They were the queens of the vampire race.
The girl had expressed a desire to be a queen.
So, while he should walk away, he could not.
Not until that matter was resolved.
"Tch," he grunted, lifting the sword in both hands. "There is nothing to be done about it now. Then I will kill you all."
"Arrogant bloodsucker," the voice hissed again. Vlad couldn't quite pinpoint where he was. Somewhere on the roof. But not in the open. "You managed to kill some of our juniors. This is no great achievement, as you will see…"
Vlad resisted rolling his eyes.
"You speak bullshit," he sneered. "You would throw your juniors at me, knowing they will fall like wheat? How shameless. Do their lives mean nothing to you at all? What kind of bastard are you to do this?"
"Who I am is not your concern," the voice called dully. "You will die, leech. We know the secret ways to kill your kind. Show him!"
A shadow scooted at him, flinging liquid from a small vial.
Vlad watched the water arc through the air between them, his eyes blank.
He looked down as the holy water splashed against his tunic.
Soaked into it.
Then he glanced back at the shadowy figure which staggered back a step.
"Now you've made my shirt wet," Vlad said. "What will you do about that?"
"Umm…" The shadowy figure looked up at the roof. "The holy water didn't do anything!"
"Impossible! It was blessed by Pope Michaels!"
"A pope?" Vlad drew his lips back into a snarl as he lifted the sword and his fists tightened around the long handle. "I really don't like popes. Or people who would trade with one. Let me show you the mercy of your saints."
Then he attacked.
His sword sang as crimson blood energy danced up and down the blade like electric waves. It crackled, forcing the steel to glow. Each cut of steel seared flesh.
The smell of burning meat filled the air.
And blood drenched the ground.
The shadows tried to withstand his attacks, but their swords were short and flimsy. They'd elected to use rapiers. The tools of a gentleman, Vlad thought with a smirk.
He heard a sharp crack as one aimed a small crossbow and let a bolt shoot past his ear.
Enraged by the mere mention of a pope, Vlad was blind to their fear.
Blind to their weakness.
It was no longer a battle. Instead, it was an execution. And he revelled in it.
"Run!"
He heard the word and scrambled to cut off their retreat.
With heavy swooping grace, he felled the last shadowy figures. And showed a satisfied grimace as the shadows which had swirled around them gave dark flickers before evaporating into the ether.
Leaving bodies with youthful faces twisted in death.
Finally, a figure rose from where it had been couching on the rooftop.
The cowled figure stared down at him.
Perhaps he was considering leaping down and challenging the vampire.
But Vlad could see the hesitant shiver as it broke his resolve. But that shiver wasn't enough to break his pride.
"I will not forget what you did today."
Vlad wiped a hand across his jaw and showed his fangs. "What's your name, coward?"
"I am not a coward!" The figure nearly took a step forward. Then balled his hands into fists. "But someone needs to report your crime to the League."
"Ah," Vlad said softly. "The League still exists, does it?"
"The League's reach is long."
"The League's memory is short if they're sneaking into Transylvania."
"We shall meet again. And you, girl… He will come for you!"
The girl trembled under the eaves, hidden from the figure above. Her eyes were shut tightly and her arms hugged her knees close to her chest. The white dress was now filthy with dirt. "Leave me alone," she whimpered. "Please… Leave me alone…"
"Some things never change," Vlad said, calmly thrusting the sword into the ground and stretching his fingers. "Threatening little girls was all you were good for."
"Insolent leech! You don't know what you're saying!"
"Come down," Vlad said, beckoning the man. "Show me what you will do about it."
"Hmph."
Then, to Vlad's surprise, he tossed a small glass globe to the ground between his feet. A sudden burst of smoke exploded between his legs.
Clearly meant to disguise his escape route.
But Vlad's eyes clearly saw the man almost fall as he slithered over the top of the roof. Shaking his head, he opened his mouth to say something.
Then changed his mind.
There was no fun in teasing ants.
He let the man go. The League would always return.
They were like rats.
Scratching his head, he tugged the blade free of the ground and pulled out a small length of cloth to wipe it clean. Still shaking his head, he wiped the muck off the blade and promised to clean it more thoroughly as soon as he found a place to stay.
Looking around at the bodies, he hesitated.
Someone else's problem, he thought.
Then saw one of them had a storage ring. The silver glinted on his finger like a beacon and caused Vlad's smile to grow wide.
He was always happy to accept donations.