This takes place after Blade 2, kind of. Like two years after Blade 2. In a world where Blade Trinity hasn't happened yet. So yeah.
First chapter is a tiny, tiny baby teaser of a chapter. Sorry.
Obviously I do not own Blade or any of the movies. Sorry, Guillermo del Toro! I love your character too much!
Blade shot off the roof of the building like a bolt of midnight lightning, his coat flaring behind him as he hit the pavement running. The vampires that were loitering in front of the night club "Blood Bank" scattered quickly in all directions. The Daywalker snorted derisively. "Blood Bank"? They weren't even trying to be subtle anymore. He caught sight of his primary target as the bloodsucker made a bolt for a dark alley: Ahvel Silvey, the vampire who had started the trend of 'stocking' his clubs with young human girls and boys for the enjoyment and convenience of his clients. Ahvel shot down the alley, glancing back over his shoulder to see Blade draw his sword and give chase.
"Oh fuck, fuck," the blonde vampire grunted as he jumped over spilled garbage cans and the occasional passed-out junkie. To his right, up ahead, he spotted another alley, darker and narrower than this one. He pushed himself onward, adding a burst of speed out of desperation.
Blade was three steps away from being able to reach the target when the creature darted suddenly to the right. The hunter skidded to a halt and turned, but before he could enter the smaller passage, he saw Ahvel's body whip through the air into the darkness faster than anyone could have run. An unearthly scream echoed down the brick walls, followed by the sound of something splattering. Blade gripped his sword steadily and took two steps into the alley.
Ahvel's body was slumped against one wall, legs splayed haphazardly, blood running down his fine suit. The figure behind him crouched in the shadows, face hidden by the hooded sweatshirt it wore. Pale, skinny fingers clutched possessively at Ahvel's shoulders and throat in a mockery of an embrace. There was a choked gurgle as the predatory creature detached its mouth from the ragged wound on the vampire's neck, blood spraying wildly for an instant before the figure clamped down on the gash with one hand, stoppering the flow. Blade shifted his stance, his every muscle and nerve screaming danger. The hunched being slowly lifted its head, still obscured, and sniffed the air twice, inhaling deeply, before speaking. The voice was raw, rough as broken glass, but deep and rich underneath the roughness, and somehow terribly familiar.
"Daywalker."
"Who the fuck are you?" Blade asked aggressively, one hand going to his belt where he held the syringes of anti-vampire serum.
The figure laughed, dry and cracked, and lifted one hand to pull back its hood.
He was skinnier than Blade remembered him, and the dark circles under his intense, blue-white eyes were even deeper, but there was no mistaking that voice, those eyes, the scar that ran from his bottom lip to his chin. Staring up at him from the filthy ground of the alley, blood staining his mouth, was Jared Nomak.