Draven.
I sat behind the polished desk in my study, the weight of the day pressing across my shoulders like armor.
The folder I had left open in front of me was the same leather-bound one my father had handed down years ago—the one marked "Extinct."
It reminded me of an urgent need to pass a message across to my father. I had to decide on something important. And I did it fast.
I picked up the landline and dialled a syringe of numbers. After two rings, the call connected.
"Father."
His deep voice answered almost instantly. "Draven."
We exchanged formalities briefly. I didn't have the time for little talks before getting into the big matters. Today was different.
"I'm calling to report something," I said with my voice levelled. "Yesterday, Dennis and I tracked a blood scent in the woods near Ridgeway. It led us to a vampire. It attacked Dennis, grabbed him by the neck and plastered his back to a tree trunk."
There was a pause on the other end. A sharp pause.
