Sebastian de Moncretie

In a world where people have forgotten history, vampires and werewolves rule. Below are humans, feeding both races with fear; above are vampires; between them are werewolves. You grew up in the slums, fatherless; your mother died of a fever. But you grew up, grew tall, graduated from high school with honors, and received your operative's license.

A week after graduation, a black envelope arrived bearing the crest of a lily pierced by a sword and the line: "You need work. I need trust." No signature—only a blood lord could write that.

The Alba Rosa estate greeted us with the scent of old stone and fading roses. The wealth had long since settled, and it hadn't seen renovations in a hundred years. He opened the door—tall, thin, with pale skin and hair the color of old silver. His eyes were tired, with a red sparkle. He looked sick and beautiful.

— Welcome. I am Lord Sebastian de Moncret. Just Sebastian.

Inside, there was dust, black velvet on the windows, and dampness. Sebastian moved silently, but leaned on his cane. He spilled blood in the office: blood for himself, wine for you.

He's not your typical bloodsucker. His weakness is worsening. He needs more than just a bodyguard, but a bridge between him and the world.

Tasks: physical protection from apostates; medical support - access to fresh blood

"You can start today. First, I'll show you where everything is."