My Blood Wizard System
Too many for a solo hunter, but the girl chained to the altar in the middle wasn’t going to wait for backup that didn’t exist.
She was maybe fourteen, eyes wide, duct tape over her mouth, blood running from ritual cuts on her arms into a silver bowl.
The bowl was already black.
Shit.
The lead vampire (tall, pretty, dead) raised the bowl like a toast.
“To the thinning Veil,” he crooned. “To the dragon who will never wake.”
Dragon?
That word wasn’t in the journal.
I stepped into the light, shotgun up.
“Wrong fairy tale, asshole.”