"Mother…" Velira whispered softly, disbelief lacing her voice as she looked at the figure standing before her.
The attacking vampire froze on the spot, his whole body trembling. His instincts screamed at him that the woman before him was no ordinary vampire. She was a Nightstalker — the devourers of their own kind, predators among predators. They called themselves hunters, though they were vampires themselves.
"I… I… I'm sorry," the vampire stammered, his impulsive rage already replaced by pure terror.
"It's alright," Vemora, Velira's mother, spoke with a calm voice, yet each word carried a cold finality. "All I have to do is kill you to correct your arrogance."
"No—please… please just let me—urgh!"
The vampire's plea was cut short, his chest torn open in a blur. A pale hand reached directly into his ribcage, curling around his beating heart.
