Vampire and Witch (GL) - Chapter 2

Slap!

A striking red handprint bloomed on the blonde woman’s face.

Without a second thought, Grey had swung her hand, her rigid body locked in a defensive stance. Ignoring the numbing sting in her palm, she said coldly, “Madam, please show some self-respect.”

The blonde woman raised an eyebrow slightly. Her gaze swept over Grey with a hint of playfulness before settling on the smooth, pale skin of her neck.

She released her grip on Grey’s waist, took a step back, and offered an apologetic smile. “My apologies. I overstepped. Please forgive me.”

A short answer with no further explanation.

The two stood in a deadlock for a moment until Grey, lips pressed tight, turned away to silently pack her bags for her trip, completely ignoring the woman’s presence.

“Um… Grey?” the blonde woman called out uncertainly. Seeing Grey glance over, she continued, “Was my description clear enough?”

Grey’s brow furrowed, and she shot her a sidelong glare. “My apologies, but I’m not taking your order. Please leave.”

“Why?”

“I’m busy. No time. I have to head out today, so please go.”

“Didn’t you just say you accept custom orders?” the woman persisted, taking a casual step forward.

Grey made a sharp ‘stop’ gesture, her eyes wary. “Stay back! Don’t come any closer!”

“Oh? Is this how you treat your customers?” The blonde woman tilted her head, pointing to the reddening mark on her cheek with a lazy chuckle. “Slapping a customer, then kicking them out?”

Grey glared back fiercely. “That’s because you suddenly lunged at me!”

“I only wanted to get a clear scent of your perfume. Didn’t you just sneak a sniff of me, too? Is it only okay when you smell others, but not when others smell you?”

Grey’s face flushed at the accusation. “You…”

“You asked me to describe the scent I wanted, but since I don’t know what it’s called, I had to get close to find out.” The woman leaned in again. “My request is simple: First, it must be strong. Second, I want the scent that’s on you. I can pay the full amount upfront. Once it’s ready, you can charge extra for materials and labor—whatever is reasonable.”

“Well? Not a bad deal, right?”

A flash of complexity crossed Grey’s eyes. It was indeed a tempting offer—guaranteed profit with no risk. She could name any price she wanted. She had been in this town for three years and would have to move in a few more. This was a rare chance to make a small fortune. How could she let such a perfect “lamb” escape the slaughter?

Steeling herself, Grey bit her lip. “Fine! I’ll draft the contract now.”

The woman’s lips curved into a satisfied smile.

The Encounter in the Rain

Mrs. Dorothy’s house wasn’t in the town proper, but in a scattered residential area to the south, about ten kilometers away. Most residents there were the poor or workers building the nearby steam furnaces. With only two horse-drawn carriages a day, the round trip took hours.

By the time Grey returned to town, it was already dark. Only a few houses along the street flickered with stray lamplight.

Glasgow’s winters were cold and damp. Grey rubbed her hands together, bringing her red lips close to huff warm air onto her frozen fingertips. In her peripheral vision, she caught sight of the paper contract on the table and whispered the name: “Silvertica…”

Silvertica. That was the blonde woman’s name. A strange name.

“Miss… Silvertica, may I ask for your surname?”

Grey had watched her sign only her first name and couldn’t help but prompt her.

The blonde woman tilted her head. “Hmm… is that important?”

“This is a business contract. Please sign your full name.”

“Then it’s Sif Tica. You can just call me Sif.”

Grey took a deep breath, her eyes flashing with impatience as she suppressed her anger. “Madam, please be serious.”

The woman named Silvertica suddenly stood up, looming over Grey. With curved, smiling eyes, she said, “My name is Silvertica.”

She leaned in. Grey immediately raised a defensive hand, but before she could strike, her wrist was snatched. The woman’s icy fingertips sent a shiver of fear through her.

Sif raised an eyebrow. “Why are you so violent?”

Grey struggled but couldn’t break free, stunned by the woman’s immense strength.

“Can’t you just talk normally?! Do you have to be this close?”

“Because you smell so good~”

Sif leaned closer still, sniffing Grey’s pale, slender neck. Her voice dropped to a low murmur. “It’s like flowers… Magnolia? And a bit like fruit… citrus. Sweet…”

Grey wasn’t listening to the rambling. She put all her strength into struggling, only to be pulled into a full embrace. Pressed against a soft chest, the sound of a thundering heartbeat became jarringly clear.

“!!!”

Grey froze, her body tensing like a startled bird. The insults she was about to spit out died in her throat.

By the time she regained her senses, the embrace had been broken. The hand that had been gripped tightly was now lifted gently. Icy fingers traced hers one by one, and a pair of lips, soft as feathers, pressed a kiss onto the back of her hand.

“I apologize for my behavior. Please forgive me. Also… it is a pleasure to meet you, Grey Florence.”

Grey snapped back to the present, unconsciously touching her neck as if the woman’s breath still lingered there.

The blonde woman’s body temperature was incredibly low—her fingertips were like ice, and even that brief hug had lacked any warmth—yet her breath had been scalding, leaving a burning heat on Grey’s skin that wouldn’t fade.

Grey rubbed her brow tiredly. Why am I thinking about her again? She shook her head vigorously to drive the annoying woman from her mind and distractedly packed up to head home.

She accidentally stepped on something soft. It was a pink scarf, now bearing a fresh, muddy footprint.

“…”

Wasn’t this Sophia’s scarf? She must have dropped it this morning. Grey picked up the dirtied fabric, deciding to wash it before returning it.

On the way back, it began to rain unexpectedly. Thunder rumbled as a downpour, driven by a biting wind, lashed the streets. Grey had no umbrella; she could only wrap her wool coat tighter and run.

The rain hammered against the cobblestones, drowning out the sound of her racing heart. But as she ran, a damp chill hit her—carrying a strange scent of rot and rust.

It grew stronger. Closer.

Grey’s nose was far more sensitive than most; she could distinguish the faintest shifts in the air. This foul stench assaulted her senses, making her remember what Sophia had said that morning.

Vampire.

The first time she’d encountered the word was in a moldy German book in the room of the woman who had adopted her. She only knew basic vocabulary back then and could barely read it, but she remembered one scrawled English word: “bloodthirsty.”

They drank blood—animal, human—anything with a heartbeat was “food” to them. She thought of the town rumors: animal carcasses by the river, shriveled limbs, missing pets, the midnight cries of cats and dogs…

Grey stopped running. She stood her ground, her hand inside her coat pocket gripping her only weapon: a bottle of concentrated knockout gas. It was designed to evaporate instantly upon contact with air, rendering anyone who inhaled it unconscious.

However, it was made for humans. Whether it would work on a creature like a vampire, she had to gamble.

Grey took a deep breath, turned toward a dark alley nearby, and raised her voice. “Silvertica, come out.”

A tall figure slowly emerged from the shadows. The woman was still dressed in her all-black attire, her eyes obscured by the wide brim of a stiff hat. Through the hazy rain, Grey saw a lazy, effortless smile followed by a pleasant chuckle. “Good evening, Grey. We meet again.”

Grey didn’t answer. She stared at the woman, every nerve on edge. This person was too strange: she wouldn’t give a real surname, she approached her for no reason, her body was colder than a normal person’s, her strength was superhuman, and she smelled of blood.

The smell intensified as Sif stepped within a meter of her.

“You’re nervous.”

Grey’s brow pinched with displeasure. “Why are you following me?”

“Your heart is beating so fast.”

“Who—no, what exactly are you?”

“You… smell so good…”

Grey snapped. She smashed the bottle onto the ground. Wisps of mist instantly billowed into the air, swirling around Grey and creating a barrier.

The woman paused for only a second before bolting toward her.

The drug didn’t work!

Grey grit her teeth and raised her hand against the charging woman. Before she could react, a flash of silver light streaked past, like a violent wind whistling by her ear.

A beastly roar tore through the night—deafening, then abruptly silenced, eventually swallowed by the rain.

Terrified, Grey scrambled backward. A decapitated corpse slammed heavily onto the ground. Dark red blood geysered out, mixing with the rainwater and releasing a wave of nauseating, putrid rot.

Grey remained in a defensive stance, but the smell was unbearable. A wave of nausea hit her instantly. She clutched her chest, turned away, and began to retch violently.

Acidic bile mixed with her coughing, leaving her face and hair a mess. Catching another glimpse of the corpse, she collapsed to her knees and vomited again.

“Are you alright?”

Sif held out a plain white handkerchief. Even in the dark, the veins on the back of her pale hand were visible.

Grey didn’t take it. Her eyes locked onto a glint of light—a silver blade, stained bright red, blood dripping along its etchings onto the ground. Pale with fright, she stumbled back and nearly fell, but a brutal force caught her arm and pulled her up, sending her crashing into a familiar chest.

She looked up. Under the wide hat brim, a pair of crimson pupils stared at her, shimmering with a hint of a gentle smile. The woman’s pupils seemed to chase the rhythm of Grey’s frantic heart, contracting and expanding with every beat.

Grey completely forgot the mess on her face and hair; she even ignored the stench of rot in the air. Then, she saw the woman’s nostrils flare slightly. The hand on her waist tightened.

“Can you stand?” Sif asked in a low voice.

Snapped out of her trance, Grey violently pushed her away, holding her hands up in defense. Only then did she see clearly what the woman was holding: a scythe. The rain had almost washed the blade clean of blood.

Sif watched her with amusement, offering the handkerchief again. “You should really wipe your face.”

Blushing and panicked, Grey snatched the handkerchief. She didn’t even care if it was safe, the thought of the vomit on her face was too much to bear. As she wiped herself, she watched Sif expertly fold the scythe away. She glanced at the corpse, unsure of what to think.

Sif found the rapid changes in Grey’s expression entertaining. She熟练地 (practicedly) pulled Grey back into her arms. Ignoring the struggles and protests, she tightened her grip on the “sweet thing” in her arms and forced Grey to walk forward.

“What are you doing? Let go! Let me go!”

“Let’s find somewhere to hide from the rain and talk, shall we? Or do you want to chat here in the stench and the downpour? You’ll get sick.”

Grey bit her lip instinctively. “Where are you taking me?”

Sif gave her a radiant, perfectly serious smile. “To your house, of course. It’s not safe for you alone this late. I’ll walk you home—and you can invite me in for a cup of coffee.”

“In your dreams!”

Grey shouted in her ear, only to be met by a pair of watery, reddened eyes. Sif’s lashes trembled slightly; she looked like a puppy abandoned in the rain—utterly pitiful.

“I saved you and I’m walking you home. I can’t even have a cup of coffee?” Sif pouted, her voice trailing off mournfully.

Grey was momentarily speechless. Just as she was about to speak, a low, magnetic voice whispered in her ear.

“Forget it. I know where you live anyway. We’ll talk when we get back.”

“What?! How do you know where I live? Have you been stalking me? Who are you? What was that thing on the ground? Why are you following me? What is your goal?!”

“Grey, you’re so noisy.”

“Let go! Ah! Where are you touching? Stop moving your hands!”

“Don’t squirm, or you’ll fall. Besides, what’s wrong with a little touch? I have everything you have.”

“You rogue!”

“You have a great figure, Grey. Tiny waist, big chest… how did you grow like that? Did you eat something special?”

“Pervert!”