Streaks of plum painted a bold skyline. Charcoal silhouettes stood towering above comparatively insect-like flits of shadows, high, keening screeches of sirens shattering a would-be tranquil twilight. The acrid stench of big city fumes wafted beyond the outer limits; sparse vegetation a direct consequence. Dim slivers of moonlight pierced through wispy clouds in the north. A rare view of golden sunset and crescent moon bathed the evening in shades of ethereal origins.

Or, if Aja wasn't being quite so poetic, it was time to polish her silver, get the anchor out of her behind, and head on over to the looming menace of Anazemal. Aja's lips tightened with instinctual tension as she did a reflexive pat-down to make sure all of her blades were thoroughly concealed within her trench. With a curt nod to herself, she set her pace towards the outskirts of the restless suburb. The loamy earth of late fall gave slightly under her boot-clad soles, but her speed was too great for the ground to swallow her. With the speed of her kind, the five mile distance was covered in little more than a minute, though it could have been less if she hadn't forgone last night's meal for an extra hour of sleep. Go figure.

The acrid stench of big city fumes wafted to her nostrils, making her cringe in disgust at the assault to her sensitive nose. She should have been used to this by now, should have adapted the raunchy scent. Yet another reason why she should have eaten.

Stopping just outside of the more residential area, Aja quickly skimmed the vacant streets and continued at a more inconspicuous pace towards the heart of Anazemal. Giant skyscrapers thrust upward at an almost ridiculous height, seemingly brushing the heavens themselves. Aja snorted softly to herself and flitted around a steel and stone apartment building, her trench coat and loose black slacks blending perfectly with the shadows. She glanced up and around, searching for anyone stupid enough to delve into an inner city alley at night. When nothing more than crumpled litter and a lone rat met her gaze, she suddenly launched her small figure up the wall. Old mortar crumbled beneath her fingers but held on nonetheless. Scaling buildings wasn't an art she normally practiced, but tonight called for it especially. Once halfway up, Aja utilized the convenience of fire escapes, pouncing from one to the other until finally she had reached the top of the seven story building, landing on the ledge in a crouch. Her pulse throbbed in her ears, and her heart beat an erratic tune in her chest; she needed to work out some more if something as insignificant as climbing got her huffing and puffing. Scraping stray tendrils of her onyx locks back into her severe bun, she hopped off the ledge, grasping the sai blades to her side to keep them from clanging together. All she needed was one wrong move to alert her presence, and Sol would not be happy if she managed to fail two missions in a row. Not that she gave a flying flip. It was more or less the fear of failure that pressed her onward.

The rich, meaty scent of recent death and gore hit her like an airborne piano in old cartoons. Grimacing to herself and resisting the urge to plug her nose to block the tempting odor, she carefully grasped the sai in one hand, though she probably wouldn't need it on this night. Sol, being his usual patronizing self, thought that Aja hadn't been capable of completing the last assassination because the target had been stronger than her. Really, though she would never tell Sol, the assigned target had been a familiar face. Aja couldn't bring herself to kill her.

So, in lieu of any other options, she had sliced herself up a bit with her own weapons and claimed being overpowered. And it was a good thing that Sol was as big an idiot as he was a pompous ass. She would have been fried, literally.

The near-silent rustle of silk on silk alerted her to company. Crouching lower to the ground in a cat walk, Aja brought the sai up to her sides, one in each hand, and slowly stalked to the left behind a tall vent duct. The cloying musk of blood and sweat with a sugary undertone reached her nose. Hunger and nausea warred in her body, but this situation called for well-practiced, careful maneuvers, not tactics based on instinctual needs. Tensing her body against the onslaught, she clung the edge of the vent, refusing to show herself before she first sighted her quarry. This one seemed to be taking its sweet time. Aja was used to waiting though. Years and years of experience had granted her a great deal of patience. The dizzying odor of the creature seemed to grow stronger, closer. A tall figure melted out of the gloom. Aja's supernatural instincts took over, and she silently disappeared into the dark just as it passed her.

A low hiss resonated from the figure, and Aja knew she had been discovered. She growled to herself for losing the element of surprise; she hadn't planned on this one being smart enough to look for her. With steeled resignation, she grasped the sai and launched at the man with all the speed granted to her kind. Speed that was mirrored in this one. Sol had assigned her a Scyre, a lower master. Aja frowned in indignation; she had been prepared for no more than a fledgling. She quickly spun away from a well aimed kick to her left side. No matter.

Spinning again in the opposite direction, she swiftly stashed the sai back under her trench. A Scyre would know an element; blades wouldn't do much good against it. Sure enough, just as the thought passed her, the air seemingly tightened around her, sucking her closer to the man, her boots scraping against the stone of the roof. Using one of her own elements, she blasted a fistful of flame at the man's head, instantly relieving the pressure. The momentary lapse of the man's concentration proved to be enough to land a flaming roundhouse to the chest, knocking him to the floor. A powerful gale swept her off balance as he instantly shot up from his prone position. Distantly, Aja concluded that this guy was newer to his element and its uses; he could have easily sucked the oxygen from her and disabled her flaming attacks. She darted to the side as he rushed her with a right hook that would have surely broken a jaw. This guy seemed to be more brawn than brains, though, which became apparent as he foolishly exposed his back to her. A few rapidly placed blows to his kidneys and lower spine had him on his knees, and a shaft of silver protruding from his chest. Immediately, the body shriveled and disintegrated, leaving nothing more than a withered husk of what the Scyre had been. Aja yanked the silver stake from the vampire's chest cavity, wiping the sizzling blood on the sleeve of her coat.

As far as fights went, this one had been a cinch. Scyres had a nasty habit of being arrogant. They figured that since they had managed to survive for so long, they were invincible. Which only made them easier to kill. Honestly, Aja had faced lowly fledglings that had caused her more trouble than this brute. At least this one hadn't made much noise to alert others. She was probably too underfed to complete a successful session of mind control, compulsion.

Aja completed a once-over of the corpse. The bloodless shell would be easy to burn, and she did just that. The greasy black smoke rolled off the body in waves, forcing Aja to cover her nose. Slimy ash was all that remained after mere moments, and a quick blast of artificial wind swept them into the night breeze.

Aja hummed to herself in satisfaction; now she could go eat. In a flash, she darted over the building's ledge and hastily scrambled to the paved ground. Her knees jarred with the force of the landing but was otherwise unaffected.

Throngs of night owls met her entrance into the main street. The collective odor of hundreds of human beings overpowered the residual brimstone smell of the fire she controlled, which also acted as a decent repellent on nights when she wasn't after a meal. But tonight it would work against her; she had become accustomed to luring prey to her, not hunting them as she had in an earlier life.

"Are you lost, miss?" A booming voice called from a few yards beside her. Aja swiveled towards the familiar bass. The owner of the voice was barely taller than her with wavy blue-black hair that curled to his chin. Broad lips pulled into a politely inquisitive smile, murky gray eyes seemingly concerned. Sol had always been a terrible actor. Aja, in her own caustic demeanor, gave him a curt shake of the head.

"No, sir. I was just looking for my street." Sol dropped the polite pedestrian façade and regarded Aja with steady eyes.

"Good. I was beginning to think I would have to replace you," he said so softly that, even with sharpened hearing, Aja almost lost it in the roar of voices and traffic.

And by "replace" you mean "shove a stake through, cast to the higher-ups, and go about my merry way." Aja thought in contempt at the man, her master, before her. She was unable to mask the tremor of fury that racked her small frame. Sol took notice of this and smirked, a cruel tease just begging to be released from his mouth.

"Say it. Just say it. You'll regret ever binding me," Aja growled fiercely, brazenly fingering the stake at her belt. Sol caught the movement and growled right back, fangs flashing.

"Raise your hand against me, and I'll toss you to the Ancients." Aja's fury sparked, rippling through her in a haze of blind enmity and malice. She clenched her fists to conceal the smoke simmering between her fingers. "And you know I can do it," he breathed into her ear. He was standing so close she could smell his last meal on his breath. Sharp nails bit into her palms. Calm. Stay calm. It won't last forever. She parted her dry lips to reply, but Sol was gone before she could utter a word. Coward. Growling to herself, she followed his lead and melted into the crowd like a drop of water in a puddle, darting between people and vehicles at speeds humans couldn't distinguish.

Her veins contracted sharply, a painful reminder that food was now top priority. Once across the heavily occupied street, she raced into the nearest alley. Blood was in the air. She could smell it. An early drunk had stumbled into the small side street and had cut himself on a broken bottle. An easy meal. Before the inebriated bum could spout a curse at being shoved to the broken pavement, Aja had covered his mouth and buried her fangs deep in his throat. Warm spurts of the decadent liquid gushed into her mouth and down her parched throat, the alcohol in his system adding a slight burn to the taste. It revived her though. Gods, how it revived her…She nearly purred in pleasure.

She drank deeply for a few moments, spurred on by the drunk's moans of delight. On a lower level of consciousness, Aja was glad that he was drunk; it would take the edge off of her venom and keep him from suffering an addiction to the substance. Gently, she relaxed her hold on the now pliant, dazed human and set him against the grimy wall of the alley. He lazily grinned at nothing in particular and sighed in content.

Aja felt better than she had in days. Like she could walk on water or climb Mt. Everest. Practically giddy, she pranced away from the alley. Screw Sol. If he wanted to hand her over to the higher ups, then let him. She could probably handle them, anyways. Of course, on a more level-headed plane of thought, Aja knew that was all bravado. No one of lower vampire lineage could possibly hope to best an Ancient. Even the greatest of masters fell to an original's powers. Some said they could wield lighting, the very heavens themselves. Granted, anyone who fought them probably didn't survive to tell of what the Ancients were capable of; it was only hearsay.

Lost in slightly drunken thoughts, Aja had unknowingly set her course for the apartment she had killed the Scyre at. The sickly sweet stench of his ashes burned her nostrils, but another scent lay just beneath it. This one was…what was it? It was musky but heady and fragrant, like citrus and sweat. Only this sweat smelled really, really good. Aja parted her mouth slightly to breathe in the heady odor, the smell instantly crashing into her brain and making her heart beat faster, her body heating deliciously. Waves of heat seemed to shimmer on the roof. Oh, dear God, was she drunk? Lovely, just lovely.

She quickened her pace and fled back to the outer circle of Anazemal. The crowds were thinner, the air easier to breathe. She staggered slightly and grumbled to herself at her own stupidity. The title of "master" did not belong to one dumb enough to drink from a drunk. She supposed that's why Sol thought he could control her, but she batted the mutinous thought away. She could still kick his ass any day of the week, blood or no blood, drunk or not. She was over 200 years his senior and had trained in the art of killing, had perfected several styles of fighting that could make the strongest warrior blanch in self-doubt. Sol had lived a life of luxury and privilege. The little punk was nothing more than a fly she could easily swat away. It was the threat of the Ancients that kept Aja tied to him. A direct descendant of one of the five original vampires, Sol had much more political control than Aja. Oh, sure, her own father was the Second in Council, but they hated each other with a passion, and she would receive no assistance from Daddy Dearest. Ever.

"Daddy don't love you no more…" Aja sang in a soft, lilting tune. She scoffed at herself; Daddy never loved her, period.

It was after midnight by the time she got back to her loft. Running the distance would not have allowed her such a magnificent view of the night sky, after all. She quietly entered the brick building, careful not to wake Miriam, the owner of Witch's Bar & Brew, her landlord. And then face palmed herself for her ignorance; Miriam was on vacation in the Bahamas till the end of the month, courtesy of Aja's advanced rent. She relocked the door and wandered upstairs.

Being a vampire, or at least part vampire, had granted Aja an eternity. A life limited only by her own mistakes, not age. And while some thought immortality was the best thing since sliced bread, Aja considered it more of a hassle than it was worth. Not only did she have to constantly relocate, but she also had to change her name, get a new birth certificate every seventy years or so, buy new cars…the list went on and on.

But this place, this little loft, was her most cherished possession at the moment. After little more than two years, she had already personalized it to her own unique tastes. She had kept the beige colored walls but had ripped out the dingy scarlet carpet that looked like it had been through hell and back. Cherry wood now took its place, though she regretted it every winter; even vampires weren't totally immune to winter's bite. Dozens of paintings littered the walls, some old, some new; some cheap, some extraordinarily expensive. Aja still grimaced at the cost of some of them, but they were all worth it. Beautiful nature scenes of every kind opened seemingly endless portals of life in the small living space. Anything from waterfalls and crashing ocean waves to tropical rainforests and high, misty mountains adorned the walls in a collage of colors and sensations. She also indulged in the literary arts, the huge cases of books a testament to that. Aja had never felt more at home.

Other than the creative arts and a computer, Aja hadn't much cared for anything else. She had bought the furniture from a local stock and had replaced the old bathtub with a newer, yet indistinguishable model. Nothing else was of much importance to her, and the whole "all vampires are rich because they're old" deal was a bunch of hooey. The vampire mistress had managed to stay afloat but had never been rich by anyone's standards.

Shedding the layers of leather, boots and trench coat full of weapons carelessly thrown in random areas, she staggered over to the teal couch and gracelessly flopped onto the plush surface. And then she realized she was being stupid and went to retrieve her weapons from the inner depths of the trench. After fishing out the small array of light weaponry -a handful of throwing stars, two daggers, the stake, and the sai swords- she carefully placed them back on their respective racks. She'd have to clean the stake later, but that could wait. The brimstone smell would have to go first.

Aja loped over to the bathroom on stiff legs. Why did she have so many damn kinks these days? Ugh, she needed a bubble bath…Unfortunately, she was due for her shift working the bar within the next hour. Aja, one of only three baristas who ran Witch's Bar & Brew, was in charge of opening up every other night of the week plus Saturdays. She hadn't been able to open it for the last week; she had been in France, hunting Violante.

The fifteenth century beauty had been in control of northern France for the better half of the millennium. Sol had seen this as an incredible disadvantage to his "I'm-an-evil-bastard-and-want-to-rule-the-world" plan and had ordered Aja to slay her. Of course, that had ended in failure. Kind of. Violante and Aja hadn't been what one would consider friends, but they were familiar with each other, had been allies in a long forgotten battle. And Aja took any chance bestowed upon her to rebel against Sol. He had been furious, to say the least. Aja, the lone, outcast hunter, master of the elements, and daughter of Antigone, had fallen to the Master of France? Not entirely impossible, but surely improbable. Which Sol knew, but, amazingly he hadn't made too huge a deal about it. France must not have been too important.

Aja irritably kicked the unwanted musings to the back of her throbbing head. She needed some time to relax. Stripping the ash laden slacks and blouse off her achy body and tossing them in the hamper, she adjusted the temperature of the water, forcefully ripped out the band holding her hair up and hopped under the powerful cascade. Damn, she had needed this…She groaned softly as the pressure of the water massaged her back and neck, soothing the tortured muscles. Draining water swirled with cloudy gray ribbons and streaks of crimson. Aja frowned. Had she been injured? Or had she just been sloppy with her meal? She mentally shrugged and continued cleansing herself. The soft, scintillating fragrance of vanilla wrapped around her like a blanket, dulling her senses. Her thoughts returned to that wonderful aroma she had experienced earlier. Rich and sweet, like chocolate and blood, but musky and masculine, woodsy. Aja hummed quietly in rapture. In desire.

Abruptly she flipped the temperature to Arctic and froze her obscene thoughts before they could bloom to fruition. She might be a vampire, a being thought to be soulless and immoral, but she had her dignity! It was just a smell, anyways…nothing of much importance.

Water now running clear, Aja figured she was clean enough for a public appearance and hopped out of the frigid shower, wrapping herself in a toasty terry cloth towel. She did a quick rub down, indiscreetly pulling strands of wetness from her hair with a few fancy flicks of her wrist. She thoughtlessly whipped them into the sink. Hurriedly, she fled to her room and proceeded to tear apart her closet.

Fashion wasn't really her thing and, sadly, people noticed. She tended to stick with whatever was easy to move in; sweatpants and loose fitting tee shirts and some longer sleeved articles. When she had been hired at Witch's Bar & Brew, Aja's wardrobe had gone through a drastic change, leaving her with articles that barely covered the essentials and, quite frankly, scared the hell out of her. Well, at first. She had grown used to the tight-fitting leather and flashy halter tops after awhile. Tonight she stuck with a simple sleeveless red low cut top and dark jeans; she wasn't up to doing anything more risqué, and the red looked good on her dusky toned skin. Aja pinned up her long, black tresses into a messy bun with long tendrils artfully framing her face. After adding a few gold bangles on her wrists, she considered herself at least half-way presentable. And if the bar goers thought to the contrary, they could just stuff it and leave. No skin off her nose.

Without forewarning, heat bloomed beneath her skin, fire skimming the sensitive nerve endings and flickering to life with unanticipated warmth, making Aja gasp in great gulps of air. The smell was back in full force. It literally knocked her senseless, forcing her to her knees. Hastily, she covered her nose and wrapped her free arm around her torso. Every muscle was locked in nervous tension. Her blood pumping faster and slower at the same time, the heated liquid a sluggish pulse inside her.

Even with her mind swimming in scattered thoughts, one in particular made itself apparent: if she ever found the source of this damn smell, she'd have to get rid of it. Whatever it was. Vampires' sense of smell was horribly sensitive, and this…this would have to go. She couldn't function with it around.

Movement. Something was in the house.

Vampire-quick, Aja leapt from her prone position on the floor. The silver stake was violently snatched from her wall of weapons, the Scyre's blood still crusted on it. A shimmer caught her eye, light reflecting. She was positioned for defense, crouching low to the carpeted floor; good, if she needed to run, it would be easier on carpet than wood. Eyes flickering to and fro, Aja resisted the urge to scream in frustration. Arousal mixed with battle lust…wonderful. The shimmer, if there had even been one, was gone. Or she just couldn't see it. Maybe it was only visible when it moved. Grasping at straws was never a good battle tactic, but it was all she had now. And the damn heat was keeping her in a fluttering haze of lust.

"Show yourself," Aja growled softly, the stake poised for a strike in her right hand, a glowing ball of flame crackling in her left. "I can smell you. I saw you. Show yourself."

Silence made her ears pound as they strained for the slightest noise, a miniscule movement. Tension welled in the air. Aja's heart beat spasmodically, her temples pulsing with the force of blood flow, her lungs contracting in uneven panting. Wide, violet eyes roved the large room in a careful sweep. Every nook and cranny was analyzed with utmost care.

Nothing.

But the smell was still strong, stronger than mere moments ago, perhaps. Aja slowly lowered the stake back to its rack, but the fireball remained in her grasp, ready. For what, she wasn't entirely sure. But something put her on edge, and she wasn't one to ignore her instincts. With a last suspicious analysis of her bedroom, she spoke softly in resignation. "Alright, fine. Be a damn coward. You're still here. Next time you feel like spying on me, douse the pheromones a little." She said. Then muttered more to herself than her possible assailant, "They're driving me crazy."

Hands still sizzling, she slowly relaxed from her crouch and inched out of the room, her back to the door. The flames flickered, tempting her to send a jet of fire towards her invisible stalker. But she held back. She wasn't stupid enough to make the first move in a potential confrontation.

As she stalked downstairs to the bar, she could swear she heard clicking. Purring? Whatever. It was creepy as hell. And it proved that she wasn't going insane: something, or someone, was here.

For it's own sake, she hoped it wasn't another of Sol's subordinates.

*

A/N: I know, I know. "Dude, seriously ANOTHER vampire + Predator story? WTF?" Yes, I'll admit it's a bit overdone these days, but I couldn't help it; I love vamps as much as Yautja, so it's only natural that I want to smoosh them together.

Anyways, this is my first attempt at a fanfic…care to tell me how I did?