Page 18 of Claimed By Night

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BARON

Mortal Realm

I sit in a plush, velvet lounge chair with a woman in my lap. I don’t know her name. She wears only stockings, held up by a black lace garter belt, and her breasts are in my face. Not that I mind. I busily drink from the generous artery in her neck. Her blood tastes like earth, which is unsurprising since she’s a satyr.

The woman isn’t the reason I’m here—the man just behind her is. He’s my target: a half-orc who looks mostly human, except for his immense height and girth, pointed ears, underslung jaw, and fangs. He’s beyond ugly.

The target sits perhaps ten feet to my right, with a faerie on his lap who is one-quarter the size he is. I’m not exactly certain what he plans to do with her or how he plans on doing it, but because this is a brothel, perhaps I’m just being ignorant.

Regardless, I have a job to do.

Once I have satiated myself on the satyr’s blood, I stand, feigning the need to visit the restroom. As I’m a bloodsucker, I have no digestive system of which to speak of, thus it’s unnecessary for me to relieve myself.

The satyr is so high onAtacomite, she isn’t bothered when I separate myself from her. In fact, I doubt she even realizes I’ve been feeding on her for the last ten minutes. And, no, theAtacomitehas no effect on me. Over the years, I’ve developed a tolerance for most poisons.

Using the shadows that animate me, I bathe myself in a cloud of night, appearing as a space of relative darkness to anyone who cares to look my way. It would not behoove mefor anyone to remember my face. Not that anyone in this room could, anyway. Prior to becoming shadow, I had used my inherent magic to alter my image, ensuring no one would recognize me if the need for such discretion ever arose.

I start towards my target, the half-orc.

He is busily kissing the faerie, nearly consuming her entire face and slobbering all over her in the process. Revolting. But also, not my business.

I move with the shadows until I’m standing just behind him, but he and the faerie are no more aware of me than anyone else in the room. Just as I planned.

I hold my hands together until my shadows take shape between them, then release theDeath Mark—a black sigil of Shadow Magic. The mark latches onto the back of the target’s head, and the sigil pulses with my shadows, creating a bond between executioner and victim. I will be able to track him now, wherever he goes.

But my business here isn’t quite finished.

I glance down and unwind the leather reticule from around my waist. Opening the flap, I behold the array of vials of liquids and powders contained within it—my poisoning kit. I run my fingers across them until I reach the one I’m searching for:Spined Devil Venom.I pull the glass vial out.

The liquid is a deep midnight blue, oily and thick. Once it travels into the target’s blood stream, it will cause his body to become sluggish as the poison attacks the muscles and essential tissues that aide the body in movement. TheSpined Devil Venomsimply makes it easier for me to finish my job later.

Pulling the smallest of my daggers from within my shirt sleeve, I tug the cork from the bottle and dip the pointy end of the blade into the blue liquid until it coats perhaps a quarter of an inch. It’s not much, but I don’t require much—a slight scratch on the target’s neck will do the trick.

I replace the cork in the vial, then place the vial beside its brethren and tie the black, leather cord around my waist once again. Then, using the shadows to blind my activities, I approach the target. My feet don’t make a sound as the shadows surround me entirely, acting as misty buffers beneath my soles.

Holding the edge of the blade to the target’s neck, I graze him only slightly. It will feel like he’s been bitten by a pesky insect. As I imagine, he immediately scratches his neck before continuing to grope his acquaintance.

The target stands a few seconds later. His breath is already slowing; the poison works quickly. He lifts the tiny faerie and she wraps her legs around his waist with a high-pitched giggle. They exit the room, heading to the bedrooms upstairs to further their carnal pleasures. Or so he believes.

I’m quick behind my target, though I’m uninterested in watching his bedroom antics. But it will be easier to escape unnoticed if I make my exit where there are fewer onlookers. Upstairs provides an empty hallway.

Once I reach the top of the stairs, I start forward, my Shadow Magic allowing me to walk directly through the brick wall ahead of me. I do so and gently float down to the cobbled street below, my feet making no sound at all when they touch down.

I hide in the shadows, allowing them to envelop me in their welcoming embrace. And then I simply await my target to empty from the whorehouse. I finger the chain of bones I wear around my neck and wonder how much longer this bastard will be. I’m a busy man.

The target will not be long. TheSpined Devil Venomwill see to that.

I feel a pull from theDeath Mark,alerting me that the target is coming closer.

I know nothing about the half-orc’s identity, other than his species, but neither do I care. All I care about is payment. And that will come soon enough.

The target walks past me, where I lurk in the shadows of the alley. His gait is already sluggish. I step out from my hiding place and follow him. Using the shadows that pollute me, I weave them around myself until I simply blend into the darkness and no one can detect me, all the while running my fingers over the bones that decorate my neck.

I watch him unlock his vehicle and take a seat behind the wheel. He starts the car and proceeds forward. No matter. As a vampire, I’m known for my exceptional speed. It’s no feat to keep up with him.

He pulls into the garage of a well-to-do home in one of the few prestigious areas still remaining. I imagine he works for Variant. Otherwise, he wouldn’t enjoy such blessings. If such is the case, I’ll enjoy finishing this job more than I thought I would.

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