Page 3 of The Vampire’s Mercy (Blood Melody #1)

“I’ll have to fine you,” she said. “You’re trespassing.”

“Not on purpose.”

She cocked a thin eyebrow, clearly drawn-on, seeing as the edges were smudged. Oh, to lick my thumb and give both a wipe. Not because I had anything against drawn-on eyebrows, but because it’d piss her off

No. I was a good elf. Playing it safe, living below the radar.

“Let me just check something.” She pulled out a pen-like device from her breast pocket. A scanner, used to search for executioner trackers. The rounded tip blinked green as she waved it over me, no red warning lights here.

I’d had my executioner tracker removed and my blood was magically shielded from any tests designed to hunt my kind. But I always had to be careful. The moment I messed up would be the moment I said goodbye to living.

It was only a matter of time before a new method of scanning came into play.

There were already tests taking place to make it happen to smash us, then I’d be forced to run across the whole of Quintrealm to find a hiding place.

Probably take my chances in the arid Hinterlands instead of the other four domains of the world.

Satisfied, she put the scanner away. “Can’t be too careful, can you?”

Biting my tongue, I agreed and let her fine me. She tapped on her little machine, printing me out a yellow slip with a bill of fifty gold to be paid within the next three days or face it doubling.

Could’ve been worse. She could’ve questioned me on how I’d broken free of the frostbrood’s grip. Taken me in for a grilling, even tortured me in a room filled with dead flora—a major bane for an elf.

Speaking of which, the essence of living flora seeped into me, giving my batteries a recharge.

Another perk of being an elf.

Thank you, Aidan.

Even in a city choked with pollution like Oreflame, the essence of nature always found me, giving me a boost.

I sniffed, eyeing the tunnel. “Can I go now?”

Another disgusted regard. “Don’t let me see you around here again. You got lucky but won’t again.”

I smelled the faint trace of vanilla on her breath. “Can I pinch a smoke?”

To my surprise, she offered me a mistrock cig and her lighter. I sparked up, taking that wonderful first drag, releasing a cloud of white smoke.

Mistrock cigs were a recent replacement for tobacco, made of ground rocks from the mountain lakes of the werewolf domain, along with a sticky vanilla substance to hold the cig together in its paper.

Magically engineered, free of consequences to health, no stinky hair and clothes after a puff, but also a costly vice.

A habit I failed to kick time and time again.

Two gold for a packet of ten. Pfft. I might as well just throw my coin down a well.

“Now go,” the guardian ordered.

“Gotcha.”

With renewed energy from the flora, I raced through the dark tunnel of strip lights, a dusty stink, and grim-faced guardians. I kept my head down, since there was too much attention on me already.

On the other side, I stepped back out into the lovely day, shoving my hands into my pockets. A scanhawk flew up to me. The golden robot bird beat its metal wings while I stood still, its green beam moving up and down my body five times.

The damn things patrolled every occupied corner of Quintrealm for executioners and any escaped frostbrood. They polluted the skies, often waking me up in the early hours, mechanical wings beating noisily as they flew down my street.

Once the robot moved on, I hurried to the nearest tram stop two minutes away from the station because the sub-rail was too expensive. But then I realized I didn’t have any money on me to get a ticket.

Cue mega irritation.

I swallowed a litany of abuse I almost took out on the ticket machine and tried my luck with a passerby.

“Got any spare change, please?”

The man offered me not one but two middle fingers.

Prick.

A tram rolled into the stop, ringing its bell, showing off its burgundy livery just to taunt me.

I guess I’d have to make the two-hour walk back to Weatherby in the northwest of the city.

Bollocking shit.

I got as far as Highwall Bridge, the biggest of the three iron bridges in the city, before I took a wobble.

Dagger.

Dagger mine.

I see it. I see it glisten, I feel it want, I long for it because I am full.

Full of all.

Full of everything.

Full of—

I woke up to a crowd around me, a couple of them jabbering on their phones about me. A mermaid loomed closest to me, copper face scales glinting on her light brown skin.

“You good down there?” she asked.

I blinked up at her. “I… Yeah.”

That dagger. That damn dagger. What’d happened?

By Aidan. Had I been cursed?

She offered me a hand, pulling me to my feet.

“Thanks,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck. “Sorry.” My cheeks heated under the scrutiny of the crowd. “Have I made a complete knob of myself?”

She chuckled, her green eyes bloodshot from crying. Possibly. I didn’t want to ask.

“Don’t worry about them,” she added. “Can I give you a lift?”

Erm, hard pass. Just because she spoke kindly and exuded warmth, that didn’t not mean she wasn’t a serial killer.

Call me cautious in a world full of vipers.

“Do you have any spare change for the tram or sub-rail?” I answered, sizing her up.

“Er, sure. Let me see.” She rifled in her pocket.

Her cheeks definitely looked puffy from crying.

The crowd dispersed, going about their day again. Really, I was touched any of them bothered stopping. City folk usually stepped over you, no matter your condition.

The mermaid found a couple of silver coins. “How’s this?”

“Thank you. Appreciate it.”

She dropped the coins into my hand. “Well, take care.”

“You too.”

She didn’t leave. “Are you sure you don’t want a lift?”

“I’m sure. But thanks anyway.”

With a scratch of her cropped auburn curls, she added, “I hope you’re going that way.” She pointed eastward. “They’ve closed the stations directly north of the Albion.”

“Oh?”

“Sinkhole. There’s loads of guardians there right now sealing it in.”

“Right. Thanks for the heads up.” I didn’t elaborate on my direction of travel.

She nodded, hesitated for a moment, then left with a cheerful goodbye that read, I don’t know, kind of awkward.

I brushed myself down, catching a whiff of my armpits. Yikes. Talk about onions left out in the sun. I needed soap and water like five minutes ago.

Picking up my pace, I made my way across the bridge, happy to see the Albion River flowing east with no ice, my mind on the mermaid.

That’d been weird. Why did she seem so keen on giving me a lift? Her vibe was off, my scalp prickling. I kept checking behind me in case she decided to get her stalker on.

I’ll knock you the fuck out if you do!

The mer were usually firefighters, lifeguards, or some water-related job.

There used to be mer singers until their voices were taken away by law.

Their song caused too many issues, driving folk crazy.

I’d heard some scary stories in my time, one involving a woman swan diving off a skyscraper because her vicious merman ex fucked with her mind with his song.

Every mer had to drink a potion at birth to permanently destroy their voice, the mer song dying out in every bloodline years before the vampire war.

I possessed the mer song, albeit in a diluted form.

Executioners were injected with the blood of the other races the moment they arrived at the academy.

In my case, I received werewolf blood, mer blood, and human mage blood.

Together, they gave me strength and speed beyond any regular elf to match that of the vamps, as well as gifting me with useful attributes from the other races.

For me, it went like this:

A werewolf’s natural healing.

A human mage’s magic, which kept my stakeblade hidden inside me, which I could summon at will.

A human’s constitution to balance the energy.

A mer’s song rather than the ability to breathe underwater like I was supposed to receive.

Those getting an elf’s blood were provided with the skills of lightfeet.

Being given the bloods didn’t provide every single gift from the other races—such as werewolf shifting, or elf climbing. But they granted enough to make us super-duper killing machines.

If only I could actually be out there putting my skills to good use, not cowering from traitors.

Another scanhawk scanned me as I stood beside a billboard with a white background and bold black letters indicating the core values of living in this world—one of many billboards in every town and city across Quintrealm spouting the same shit.

You Are Not One, But One of Many!

The Greater Good Will Out!

Pfft. Why weren’t Aidan’s holy teachings on the billboard? Oh, yeah. He’d been forsaken for a bunched of fanged fuckers.

After the second scanning, I carried on, still thinking about the damn mermaid.

Because I developed the mer song instead of the underwater breathing ability, I had to keep it hidden. My academy trainer helped me hide it, marking me down as a Tainted—an executioner who didn’t develop all of the blood abilities.

Thankfully, my song was too weak to drive anyone insane.

Annoying, really. I wanted the underwater thing.

After crossing the bridge, I headed for the Highwall tram stop, the next one heading to my neck of the woods arriving in five minutes.

I took a seat and pondered, well, everything that’d gone down today.

What the actual fuck?

Hal might know something.

Yeah, my mage buddy was good with this stuff.

The sooner I got home, the better.