Chapter 8 is up on Patreon!
Mikayel Simonian was a fledgling vampire once, though he doesn’t remember how he was turned. What he does remember is waking up in the year of 1986 to a group of magical misfits with the ability to cure vampirism—with exceptions, of course. Their history as fledglings themselves combined with the power of their magic enables them to do what no normal human can: hunt vampires. Over forty years, Mikayel has brought an end to more fledglings than he can count, and even a few full-fledged vampires. He’s seen most things. What he’s never seen before is a vampire deliberately seeking his coven out with a new fledgling in tow to beg them for a cure. Because a cure for the fledgling would mean turning her into a vampire hunter. But this handsome and unusually principled vampire named Erich Krüger seems insistent, so Mikayel and his team agree to try.
People have started dying on Mikayel’s home turf, and new fledglings are the cause. Whoever is controlling them is wily and secretive, and neither Mikayel nor his fellow hunters can track the fledglings down once they vanish into the night. It may require the help of a foe. Erich claims to know the vampire villain and has insight into what he has planned. But no one has ever teamed up with another vampire to hunt a vampire—Mikayel may be the only one crazy and desperate enough to try.
Contains: mxm with some light fxm, blood (obvs lol), gore, murder, sex scenes, slow burn romance, some nazi shit (bigotry, homophobic slurs, etc)
Genre: Horror/romance/thriller
Mikayel still had Zeinab’s phone number in his phone, though he’d renamed it DO NOT CALL HER YOU FUCKING IDIOT after she tore him a new one last time he’d called her depressed and lonely. That was fifteen years ago, but still—he didn’t think Zeinab thought any more fondly of him now than she did back then. That said, she was an incredible hunter with sharp instincts, and he could swallow his ego if it meant saving his own skin. He just hoped she picked up when he tapped the call icon.
One ring. Two. Three. Four. At least her phone was on. He could imagine her looking at his number, contemplating whether it was worth it. Five. Maybe she was thinking about the time he interrupted their anniversary dinner to track down a fledgling nearby. Six. Or the time he took a risk on chasing down several fledglings on his own against her advice and nearly got his head bitten off. She had to nurse him back to health for a week after that snafu. Seven.
Finally a click and then her smoky voice with its light Persian accent: “You better be dying in a hospital right now to be calling me.”
“Oh my God, you actually picked up.” He realized he probably had four seconds before she hung up on him. “I am not in a hospital, no, but this is sort of a life or death situation for a friend of mine, and I need your help.”
“You have a coven in Chicago to deal with this.”
“I’m not in Chicago, I’m in Indiana. I need you in Muncie.”
“Muncie? What are you doing there?”
“Well, I’m not there yet. I will be in two hours.” Faster, if Roseline let him drive. “I think we might be dealing with a master and it’s just Roseline and me.” And Erich, if Erich was in any shape to fight. Best leave that detail out until Zeinab was in Muncie.
“It may take more than three of us.”
“Right, so if you’ve got any discreet friends you can bring from the Indianapolis coven, that’d be great.”
“Because my coven doesn’t know I’m out here and… well, they don’t know about this whole mess, and I have to keep it that way.”
Zeinab didn’t speak for a whole ten seconds, long enough that Mikayel said, “Hello?”
“It’s so great to know that you haven’t changed at all,” she said.