Vampire and Witch (GL) - Chapter 3

Grey threw a towel at Sif, who was standing by the door.

The two had been out in the rain for a long time; by the time they reached the house, they were both soaked to the bone.

Sif hung her coat and hat—dripping as if they’d just been fished out of a river—on the rack by the door. She wiped the droplets from her face and neck with the towel as she sauntered into the living room, her movements so natural one would think she was the master of the house.

Grey remained on guard. Bringing this stranger home was risky, but this house was her strongest vantage point. If the woman truly had ill intentions, Grey was confident she could take her down—and cleaning up the aftermath would be much easier here.

Sif walked over to the sofa and collapsed into it bonelessly. Squinting her eyes lazily, she called out, “Grey, where’s my coffee?”

The veins on Grey’s forehead throbbed. “…”

She crossed her arms, standing over the sofa with a cold, towering gaze. “You haven’t answered my questions yet,” she said calmly.

Sif looked up. Her amber eyes were clear and cool; that eerie, blood-red tint had completely vanished. She curled her lips into a gentle smile. “So many questions. Which one do you want me to answer first?”

Grey pressed her lips together. “Who are you?”

“Silvertica.”

“I want your real name.”

“My name is Silvertica.”

Grey rubbed her temples, suppressing her temper. “Fine… why were you following me?”

“I wasn’t following you.”

Grey let out a cold scoff. “Are you going to tell me it was a coincidence?”

Sif blinked. “No. It was because you were in danger.”

Grey froze, clearly not expecting that answer, but she quickly regained her stern expression. She stared into Sif’s eyes, trying to gauge any emotional fluctuations.

“How did you know I’d be in danger? And the thing you killed… what exactly was it?”

She remembered the corpse on the ground vividly. It was a person. The head that had been severed by the scythe had a face twisted in agony and malice. The blonde woman sitting before her had killed a human being with her own hands.

Yet, that foul, putrid stench told a different story—that it was a body that had been dead for a long time.

The dead rising, walking, and attacking humans…

“Vampire,” Sif said flatly, meeting her gaze. “Because you had their scent on you.”

Grey was stunned. “The scent of them? What scent?”

Sif pointed to the bag Grey had brought back from the shop, now sitting on the floor. “Something in there was marked with their scent. They track their prey by smell.”

Grey immediately emptied the bag, spilling herbs, bottles, and clothes onto the floor. A pink scarf tumbled out.

It clicked.

Sophia’s scarf had been tainted by the vampire’s scent, and Grey had been carrying it with her. She had become the prey.

“The young girl who was in your shop today—she was targeted,” Sif’s low voice came from behind her. “I didn’t expect the scented scarf to end up in your hands.”

Grey stood rooted to the spot, her mind slowly processing the information. She composed herself and turned back to face Sif. “Then… how did they become like that?”

“Drained of blood by a vampire.”

“So, they were actually human?” Grey’s voice trembled visibly; she gripped her sleeves tightly.

Sif answered simply, “Yes.”

“You killed a person.”

Sif spoke dismissively. “They were already dead. I killed a vampire.”

“But they were human to begin with!” Grey suddenly raised her voice, her emotions a frantic blur.

Sif stood up from the sofa and approached Grey step by step. “And then what? If I didn’t kill them, was I supposed to watch them kill you? Watch them drain your blood and turn you into a monster like them? Even if it wasn’t you, they would have attacked other humans!”

Startled by the outburst, Grey’s voice weakened. “But… but they were people. Maybe there was a way to cure them…”

“It’s not a disease! It’s a vampire! They are dead; they don’t think. They only have an endless hunger. They are monsters who only know how to feed. As long as humans and animals exist, they will survive forever.”

“Grey, don’t you know that better than anyone?”

Sif pinned Grey against the wall. Grey watched as those clear amber irises instantly bled into crimson. Icy fingers gripped her chin firmly. The pain made Grey gasp as she struggled to speak. “What… what do you… mean by that?”

“Vampires mark their prey. They drain the blood, then have the prey drink their own blood. That’s a declaration of ownership; other vampires can’t touch marked prey. Then, the victim is reborn as a vampire’s thrall. That process is called the Embrace.”

“But there is another way,” Sif continued, her red eyes unblinking. “A vampire drains a prey dry but doesn’t give them their own blood. They let them turn and wander, attacking anything that moves. Like the ones I killed tonight.”

Sif narrowed her eyes. “So, which kind are you?”

Grey let out a pained whimper, her eyes welling with tears as she felt her jawbone was about to be crushed. She grabbed Sif’s slender, pale wrist, but no matter how hard she pulled, she couldn’t break the hold.

“I… I don’t know… what you’re talking about… I’m not… I’m not a vampire…”

Sif let out a cold huff. “I saw you in Scotland twenty years ago. You looked exactly like you do now. You haven’t aged a day. Are you a Pureblood? A Dhampir? or a thrall from an Embrace?”

“I… I really am not what you say… I just… I use herbs to care for my body. I just know how to maintain myself…”

Suddenly, Grey felt a cold, sharp, hard object press against the skin of her neck. Panic surged through her.

The scythe was at her throat.

“You saw it tonight. Even if vampires have a form of immortality, they can be killed, right?”

Grey held her breath. She heard every word clearly. With one stroke, she would die. She could finally be free…

Grey didn’t speak. She slowly closed her eyes and submissively accepted what was coming.

Red blood seeped out. In an instant, all the pain in her body concentrated on her neck, but Grey’s heart was unnervingly calm, as if this were a perfectly normal occurrence.

But in the next second, the pain vanished. The woman’s cold voice rang out: “I see.”

The fingers on her chin applied slight pressure, forcing Grey to tilt her head back. A warm sensation brushed against the skin of her neck—a scorching breath tickling her.

Grey’s breathing instantly shattered. Her body went rigid. It felt like thousands of ants were crawling over her neck. It was itchy, soft, and strange—even slightly… pleasurable.

Her breath quickened; her heart hammered against her ribs. Her body temperature spiked. It felt as though her body, in its most parched state, had suddenly received a jolt of gratification. She couldn’t help but let out a soft moan.

“Ah…”

Dazed, she heard a faint chuckle in her ear. “Does it feel good?”

Grey’s consciousness snapped back. Using every ounce of strength, she broke free from the woman’s grasp and swung her hand for a slap.

Sif caught her wrist instantly, licking the blood from her own lips with lingering relish. “This is the third time you’ve tried to slap me. You really are…”

Before she could finish, a ball of fierce fire erupted from Grey’s palm. The flames licked up her wrist, scorching the hand that touched her skin.

Sif jumped back several paces. The two faced off in silence for a few seconds before Sif suddenly laughed.

“Oh… so you’re a Witch.”

Grey glared at her, her face still flushed. Under her soaked shirt, her pale chest rose and fell sharply, making her look as though she had just come out of a heated tryst.

Sexy, delicious—it made one want to taste her from head to toe.

“You’re a vampire,” Grey spat, touching the wound on her neck, trying to erase the sensation of the lick.

The lazy smile on Sif’s face faded. She corrected her: “I prefer to be called a Vampire Hunter.”

After a silence, she pointed to the fire in Grey’s hand. “Can you put that out? Doesn’t it hurt to burn your hand like that?”

Grey scoffed. “Are you afraid of fire? I’d like to see what a burning vampire feels like.”

“Vampire Hunter!” Sif corrected her again, muttering to herself. “I heard witches were kind, pure, and helpful. Why are you so violent?”

“A Witch…?” Grey laughed self-mockingly as memories flooded back. The bottomless verbal abuse, the cold looks of disgust, the life of a rat in the streets…

“That’s right. I am a Malefica (Witch).”

“Vampires aren’t the only ones in this world who don’t age. Witches don’t age either.”

Little Tidbits:

Malefica: Latin for a woman who practices evil sorcery. This term appears in some older English translations of witch novels and carries a heavier, darker tone than “Witch.”

Vampire/Vanpir: Vanpir (used in the previous chapter) was a common variant in older European texts. A book about Jack the Ripper in the British Library from the early 20th century uses “Vanpir.” Nowadays, it’s occasionally seen in games.