Blood.

It was time to hunt for blood.

Nadine could feel the stirrings of the Beast inside her. It was still content with the remains of her last meal, but she would take no chances. When the Beast would get hungry, it would try to take control. Nadine didn't want it to take control. She'd seen the carnage a ravenous vampire could cause, and she was determined not to make the same mistake.

Stealthily, she slid through the alleyways of nightly Utrecht, her hometown. The solid cobblestones under her feet gleamed in the soft light of the half-moon, and smelled damp, of afternoon rain.

A sound? Footsteps, and laughter. Nadine slid into a dark alley and drew the shadows around her like a cloak. She watched as one, two, three students passed by, talking and laughing among themselves. The Beast stirred, but Nadine forced it down. She frowned. Three was a crowd. All she needed was one person. Just a sip. Nothing a healthy man couldn't regenerate in a day or two. That wasn't too much to ask for, was it?

The students disappeared into the night. Nadine emerged from her hiding place and went off again in search for prey. Where was that drunken, lonely wanderer...?

The old and cozy town of Utrecht was over a thousand years old and still going strong. Nadine hoped she could say the same of herself someday. Luckily, at some point in history the Netherlands had decided to be 'tolerant.' Even the local vampires were quite relaxed, as far as vampires went, and a young gothic ex-student thirsting for blood could mostly do as she chose. In Nadines case, this was tightly holding on to her humanity, and treasuring it as a beacon in a stormy sea. So far, it worked.

It worked almost too well. Nadine grinned involuntarily, carefully keeping her elongated teeth covered behind her soft, dark lips. She wore a piercing in her lower lip: part of the gothic attire she'd donned to shock her parents and 'friendly' older university professors in general. Right now, she worked so hard to control her Beast that she had become more humane than she had ever been in life. All because she had somehow attracted the attention of her sire, one of the 'friendly' older university professors who turned out to be not as mundane as his bordeaux jacket and fatherly smile had suggested.

Nadine knew there was some sort of irony in it all, and could even appreciate the humour - somethimes. At the moment, however, she...

There! A huge man lumbered out of one of the cafes, drew his grey-and-blue cloak tight around him and started to walk off, probably looking for his bicycle. Nadine's mouth started to water. She tasted her own blood and swallowed it. Judging by the size of the man, she could drink her fill tonight without him even noticing the difference afterwards.

Feeling the thrill of the hunt inside her, Nadine sneaked up on the man with a cat's grace. He would never even know.

This was her lucky night.

As Gérard walked out of the crowded, smoky interior of the bar, he could finally feel the alcohol beginning to kick in. He hummed merrily: his drinking skills had become legendary in three local pubs this evening. Once a man got used to the stuff sailors passed 'round on their Great Sea voyages, he could stand up to anyone in a drinking contest. Even the pan-galactic gargle blasters he'd drunk in some strange little Shadow had not beaten him.

Tonight, however, he hadn't gone out to get drunk; he'd gone out to visit some cozy drinking spots and enjoy himself. And enjoyed himself he had.

Right now, standing outside the pub in the chilly night air, Gérard wondered what to do. Perhaps he should go off to Texorami, his youngest brothers' favorite Shadow, and conclude the evening with a game of dice. He could also seek out a bar brawl for some enjoyment and exercise...

Nah. Gérard decided to call it a day. Maybe a brisk walk to clear up his head and enjoy the calm hours of night? Yes, that would be nice.

Gérard walked off along the Old Canal of Utrecht. Trees were budding, stars were twinkling and the world was generally at peace. He stopped for a moment to fill his massive lungs with the fragrance of the fresh leaves.

Then something bit him in the neck.

With a nibleness born out of practice, Nadine leapt at the huge man and sank her teeth neatly into his jugular vein.

It was not at all what she'd expected.

Nadine had anticipated the warm, sweet taste of blood, mingled with stale sweat from the man's well-muscled neck, and maybe a long, black hair or two, to be spat out later.

Instead, a blast of liquid energy filled her mouth and forced itself down her throat and all the way through her body into the smallest veins in her fingers and toes. Nadine's eyes flew open and she gasped for air, although she hadn't needed to breathe for years. She felt as though she had stepped out of a Platonic cave where she'd drank shadows of blood for years, and suddenly tasted its purest essence, glowing with life and strength, sweeter than sin...

Then the blow hit her.

Nadine heard a sound like two cars crashing at full speed and suddenly, stars were all around her and she flew backwards, past fences and houses and street lights... She became aware of a dull, throbbing sensation in her face, but as soon as she noticed it, the power of her Blood closed the wound, mending bones and knitting flesh together so that not even the smallest scar remained.

As soon as Nadine hit the cobblestones, she was up again, hot, pulsing energy coursing through her lifeless body. She could take on the world!

Then, abruptly, the adrenaline high left her. The man, the merest sip of whose blood had made Nadine feel like she was mightier than the gods, stood before her. From the look on his face, it seemed Nadine had pissed him off.

The moment Gérard felt the sharp sting of pointy teeth in his neck, he'd reacted with his usual reflex: a ham-sized fist aimed straight towards the place where the attacker's head should be. A satisfying crunch told him his reflexes were still accurate. He swirled about, ready to pounce on the mysterious assaulter, his mild drunkenness already forgotten: Gérard might have been at ease, but he was still an Amberite.

His attacker, a girl in her early twenties, clad in a long black dress, was already standing. Blood dripped down her chin, but whether it was hers or his, Gérard was not certain. She must have been quite strong, though, to survive one of his legendary punches. Now, however, he had enough space for a full swing.

Gérard observed the girl as she shook her long hair out of her face. If she leapt at him again, he would strike at her throat. If she ran off to warn others of her kind, he would catch and grapple her.

The girl, however, did not attack or run away. She simply stood there with huge, terrified eyes, like a rabbit caught in the headlights of a monster truck, staring towards the huge man who could kill her as easily as he could swat a fly.

Gérard took a deep breath. He'd gloriously fought raging foes who had hurled themselves on his blade. He'd personally destroyed traitors, spies and cowards who deserted their posts when they were most needed.

He'd also killed innocent soldiers with glazed eyes and shaky hands, who had no intention at all to hurt him, but just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Yes, he had killed them. But it had never gotten easy.

This girl had definitely stumbled into the wrong place at the wrong time.

Gérard knew that, despite all his soothing thoughts, she was a blood-sucking monster, dead already, judging by her pale face and still chest. And she had assaulted a Prince of Amber! It was his duty to avenge this impertinence...

Gérard sighed, his anger already drained away. He'd went on many hunting trips into the forest of Arden with his brother Julian, and had left ten times as many mosquito bites unavenged there. He couldn't even feel the wound anymore; the only evidence it had left was probably a small dark stain in his cloak. The only thing the girl had done that really mattered to him was spoiling his evening with those frightened eyes. Getting his hands all bloody wouldn't improve that in the least.

Suddenly, Gérard felt very tired. He wanted to go home.

Nadine watched as the huge man seized her up with his eyes. She felt as though pure fear coated her with a thin layer of unbreakable iron, nailing her to the ground and wringing the last vestiges of warmth out of her cold skin. Her blood burned with raw power, but it wouldn't help her now. Nothing could help her. She would die. And she could not even open her mouth to scream.

Then, the huge man unclenched his fists and reached into a vest pocket. It seemed strange to Nadine that he would draw a gun to kill her: his massive knuckles could easily have brought down a horse. Maybe he just didn't want to make a mess. Nadine's stomach tightened as she considered that last possibility.

The man drew a packet of cards.

Nadine gasped in surprise. Immediately, the man turned towards her, seemingly annoyed that she was still there.

"Bugger off," said the man. Without watching if Nadine actually obeyed him, he took a card from his deck. Nadine, who was still rooted to the spot by sheer terror, could discern the faint outlines of a castle's hall on the card. The huge man stared intensely at it.

Then, he stepped forward and disappeared into thin air, leaving only a rainbow-coloured shimmering hue behind, the only evidence that an over-two-hunderd pound giant had stood there just a moment ago.

Nadine stood and stared for five full minutes. Then, a drunken passer-by shouted something at her as he rode by on his bike, and she regained her sense. Had she not felt the incredible power of the man's blood in her veins, she would have fainted.

She definitely had to speak to her sire.