Rain fell like ash over New Haven.
Jamie stood at the edge of the old industrial district, her hood drawn low, the scent of rust and rot sharp in the air. The city here felt forgotten—warehouses hollow as skulls, windows shattered, graffiti whispering old names no one remembered.
This was where the Red Hand gathered.
Behind her, the others waited in silence. Selene with her daggered poise, Marcus shifting restlessly, and Viktor—still and calm, as if carved from the night itself.
"Remember," Viktor said quietly, "we're here to observe, not fight. We find their leader, we learn what they plan, and we leave."
Jamie nodded, though her pulse—or the memory of it—hammered inside her. The hunger that once terrified her now hummed beneath her skin like power waiting to break free.
They moved as shadows through the ruins—silent, unseen. The rain disguised their scent, the darkness wrapped them like a cloak. Every sound echoed: the drip of water through a cracked roof, the squeal of a rat skittering past.
Then, faintly, voices.
And laughter.
They reached the warehouse. A single light glowed within, pulsing through gaps in the boards like the heartbeat of a dying star. Jamie crouched by a window and peered inside.
What she saw chilled her.
Dozens of vampires filled the room, their eyes gleaming red, their movements restless and wild. The air shimmered with heat and blood scent. In the center stood a man—tall, broad-shouldered, with dark hair and a smile that didn't reach his eyes.
Darius.
He spoke, and his voice carried like a blade across the room. "We have hidden long enough. We have bowed to fear, to the laws of cowards. But no more. Humanity has forgotten its place—and we will remind them."
A roar of approval answered him. Some slammed their fists against their chests, others hissed through their teeth. The air vibrated with bloodlust.
Jamie's stomach turned. "He's not just planning chaos," she whispered. "He's building an army."
Viktor's jaw tightened. "He always did love theatrics."
They listened as Darius paced the floor, his words growing sharper, more venomous. "Tomorrow night," he declared, "we strike the heart of New Haven. Let the streets run red. Let the humans know what it means to fear the dark again."
Jamie's breath caught.
Tomorrow.
She turned to Viktor, urgency flaring in her chest. "We have to stop him."
"We will," he said, but his voice was low, grim. "First we survive this night."
As if summoned by the thought, one of the Red Hand turned toward the window.
Their eyes met.
For a heartbeat—just one—Jamie froze. Then the shout came: "Intruders!"
The warehouse erupted.
Glass shattered as Jamie vaulted through the window, landing in a crouch as chaos exploded around her. Shadows lunged from every direction. She dodged a clawed hand, struck back with instinct sharpened by Viktor's training. The impact sent a vampire crashing into the wall, splintering wood.
"Go!" Viktor's voice thundered through the din. "Scatter!"
Jamie sprinted through the storm of bodies, the scent of blood and rain thick in the air. She felt hands grasp at her, fangs flashing in the dim light. Marcus tackled one away from her, his snarl echoing through the chaos.
Then—silence.
She turned. Darius stood a few feet away, his gaze fixed on her like a wolf sizing up prey.
"You're new," he said, voice smooth as oil. "Too clean to be one of mine. Whose fledgling are you?"
Jamie's chest rose and fell. "I don't answer to monsters."
Darius laughed, soft and cruel. "Then you answer to fools."
He moved faster than thought. One moment he was standing still, the next his hand was at her throat, cold and unyielding. "Tell your mentor," he hissed, "that when the dawn rises, it will rise crimson."
Viktor appeared behind him in a blur, striking hard. The two collided, darkness against darkness, strength against centuries. Jamie stumbled back, the shock of it sending dust spiraling into the air.
"Run!" Viktor shouted, his voice sharp with command.
For once, she obeyed.
She broke through a side door and burst into the rain. The night swallowed her as shouts echoed behind her. She ran until the city's noise returned, until the sound of battle faded into nothing but her own ragged breath.
When she finally stopped, she looked back toward the smoke-black horizon.
The storm wasn't coming anymore.
It was already here