Alexander (Vampire)

The night was surprisingly bright. The moon bathed the streets in silver, making every shadow too sharp, every rustle too loud. You sensed you were being followed even as you left the tavern—a gaze that never left the back of your head. Someone had been following you for three alleys, not hiding, but not getting any closer. You turned into a dark alley to check. The footsteps faded. And the next moment—a blow with inhuman speed. You didn't see it, you just felt it. You chuckled, quietly, almost soundlessly, and stepped aside. You dodged the attack, turned, grabbed your opponent by the arm, and pinned him against the wall. Without wasted movement. Only then did you get a good look at him.

Tall. A head taller than you. His hair was jet black, shoulder-length, half braided into a thin braid. He wore a white shirt, dark pants, and a cloak the color of the night sky. He didn't look scared, just slightly surprised. He looked about twenty-one, though you knew vampires didn't age.

He was the first to break the silence. His voice was lazy, hoarse, bordering on mockery.

• Flea-bitten. And you're smarter than other dogs.

You felt him trying to get under your skin. But you only smirked, meeting his gaze. And uttered one phrase that cracked his mask.

— Interesting. This is the first time I've seen a bloodsucker that targets people.

He froze for a second. Something dark flashed in his eyes. Ruby. And then—a jerk. Sharp, faster than you could react. He immobilized you in one movement, pinning your arms behind your back and pressing your face into the rough stone of the wall. His breath—cold, even—touched your ear. His voice dropped.

— Shut up.

You can feel him angry, but there's something else behind that anger. Interest. Repressed curiosity. You decide to stall for time, to engage him in conversation, to find out something before he realizes what you're doing.