Disclaimer: I own the characters of Jazda Arione, Radine, Lark, Crystal Nightshade, Felmar, and some others I haven't brought in yet. Anything else is not mine and y'all should now it anyhow. Erm...don't sue? Right.
R&R please with advice but don't be too harsh... I hate crying!


CHAPTER ONE
Hunting

The vampire led the human girl out into the streets of Las Vegas, heading for an area where her screaming wouldn't matter as it would be a commonplace occurrence. Further behind him followed several other vampires, members of his gang, looking to join in on the fun. At last he reached a secluded area, away from the vermin territory, and turned to face the girl, sneering. She was a pretty waif like blonde, nice bright trusting blue eyes, although with a incessant flapping mouth. Well, that didn't matter. It wasn't as though she'd be doing more talking after long.

"Wow its interesting round here, isn't it? I've never been here before, I always wanted to and I can't believe I won so much money at that casino, this is such a lucky night..." babbled the girl brightly.

Still, he was getting irritated with her prattling. The five others in his gang slowly formed a circle around them. The girl blinked absently around at them.

"Say, who are they? Your friends?"

"Yeah," agreed Lark. "Maybe we can all have some fun together. What do you say."
He grinned and revealed his long sharp fangs, gripping the girl's shoulders as she stared at him. He loved it when they screamed...

She didn't.

Instead she examined his glowing silvery eyes with a curious sort of boredom. "You vampires. You're all the same."

Lark gaped at her in surprise, so surprised that he didn't notice the girl raising her hand and- A burst of searing orange witch fire sprang from her hand and hit him in squarely in the chest, lifting Lark off his feet and slamming him hard against a nearby brick wall. Stunned and gasping he screamed blindly: "Kill it!"

Then all hell broke loose.
Three figures surged out from the shadows and attacked the other five vampires with savage, efficient vehemence, one of his gang broke free and lunged for the witch with fangs bared and eyes flaring with fury.
There was a snarling, harsh roar and a massive, fiery eyed dark shape sprang out and hit it, bearing the vampire to the floor as he screamed in the confusion of ripping teeth, snarls, red blood, flailing limbs-

Lark struggled to stand up, he was hurt but healing fast, he had to get out of here... He looked up and saw a tall woman where the wolf had been, dressed in slightly ripped clothes, dishevelled hair. She was looking directly at him and her eyes blazed with heated resolve, the hard gaze gripping his own, a snarl on her full lips-

Lark felt his throat dry up and his body turn cold, just like the bodies of his many victims had done, but this was different, this time he was the prey, he didn't want to die, he didn't-
A vampire sprinted up behind her, and without bothering to even turn and look she whirled and landed a powerful kick that sent the vampire flying.

Lark swallowed hard, sweating as she moved forward and seized his collar, easily lifting him up. The woman's eyes burned into his. They were a piercing, glittering amber colour, like the fire of a sunset, but it was nothing compared to the coldness and hate in the endless depths of her pupils. She examined him, then seemingly satisfied, raised her other hand. It came forward. All went black.



Jazda Arione let the unconscious vampire drop to the floor again and turned to survey the rest of her team. Most of the vampire gang were already staked and she watched as her lieutenant, Crystal Nightshade, calmly pulled out a stake and disposed of the one she'd kicked. It had taken about one minute. Hardly a challenge.
She momentarily closed her eyes and let the air in her lungs out, feeling her fire and life leave her. Then she opened her eyes again.

"Another job well done," she smiled coolly, and Crystal smiled back in acknowledgment.

"Should we dispose of the remains?" "No," said Jazda. "Leave them here as a warning for any buddies of theirs." She looked over to Radine Arlin.

"Another excellent performance, Radine."

The blond witch grinned and blushed. "Thanks, Jazda." Radine was a powerful witch but looked very human, which naturally led to many misunderstandings. Still, Jazda had turned this into a helpful asset.

"Although, what was that crack about us vampires? I didn't like that," complained the last member of their team, a muscular, dark haired vampire with emerald green eyes.

"Well, it wasn't aimed at you, Felmar," Radine told him reassuringly. Then she gulped and quickly added, "Nor you, boss."

Jazda smirked slightly at the fact that she had left out Crystal, who was a vampire too but nodded to show no offence taken. "Maybe you shouldn't have come here, Jazda," said Crystal softly, as she brushed herself down. Crystal always liked to look impeccably neat. "Thierry will be somewhat annoyed that you didn't turn up for the meeting."

In response Jazda just shrugged in lazy boredom. "Thierry can rant all he wants, I'm not waiting at his beck and call, not anymore and I was going stir crazy waiting for something to do. Apparently he prefers to send out his usual Daybreak lackeys to get all the fun. I say, there's no satisfaction like adding the personal touch," she replied and smirked again, wiping the remaining blood off her mouth.
Crystal just grunted in response.

Crystal was her lieutenant and an old vampire, at least two hundred years old. Naturally, as a vampire, she only looked about twenty, at the most. She had short, silky white blond hair and pale blue eyes with lighter streaks in them, and a quick and neat mind. If you wanted a job executed well you could rely on Crystal to sort it out. Jazda had only recently promoted her when her previous lieutenant had been found ...unpleasantly... dead, the work of Night Worlders. Nonetheless, although she trusted and relied on Crystal, she sometimes felt Crystal resented her being in charge all the time. Sometimes she would catch her looking at Jazda with a sort of calm thoughtfulness but no clues of what she was thinking revealed in those impassive blue eyes. Well, never mind that. Jazda turned her attention onto the last remaining vampire at her feet. He would be taken elsewhere for questioning. Rumours of a new type of resistance from the Night World had reached the ears of Circle Daybreak and it was vital they found information on it, and fast. Lark was the only lead they had left.

Jazda inhaled the cold air, delicately sorting through the scents with her sensitive sense of smell. It had been a while since she'd had any fun like this, she'd spent the last few months stuck in her mansion, sorting through meaningless paperwork and helping plan the actions of Circle Daybreak. Now that she had finally gotten out and joined her team on a capture she felt hungry for more action, and the taste of the vampire who she'd killed made her want more.
It wasn't full moon yet, the wolf within did not need to kill, but nothing quite satisfied Jazda like the smell of blood, or better still, the taste of it. And the hunt, the thrill of the chase, the desire to find and hunt and kill-

On the edges of her hearing she heard a car approaching and turned to the others with a sigh of regret.

"Our ride's coming." She leant down and picked up Lark. For a vampire of her strength, it was nothing.
Jazda Arione wasn't a vampire. She wasn't a werewolf. She was both, a hybrid, child of both Redfern and Arione lineage, two of the most powerful families in the Night World, stronger than most vampires, faster than most werewolves. Unusual, really, considering such combinations usually produced weaklings or freaks. She was rich, changeless, old, powerful, proud, an immortal vampire, one of the strongest Night People... and alone. Alone forever, now.


There was a knock at his office door. Thierry sighed deeply, glad for some distraction from the masses of paperwork and with that thought shoved it aside. He hoped it would be Hannah, he had seen too little of her lately. Sometimes he hated his massive, expensive, opulent mansion. It often became a prison where he was forced to stay, whilst his beloved soulmate wandered the lonely maze like corridors, awaiting the rare moments he would have to spend with her. Lately he felt as though all of his thousands of years were finally taking their toll. He felt old, weary of responsibility, and very, very, tired.

"Come in," he called. The door opened and he saw it was Jazda Arione. Thierry straightened slightly in his chair, not looking forward to this. "Hello, Jazda."

She nodded slightly. "Thierry."

She crossed the room and took a seat in front of the desk. As always, Jazda looked stunning, sophisticated. Her sculpted face was framed by rich, thick waves of reddish chestnut hair, a natural golden tan, her perfect figure somehow making the slightly ripped clothes she was wearing still look glamourous and fashionable. She appeared to be in her early twenties, but the look and suggestion of power in her gaze revealed that she was far older. The almond shaped bronze eyes, with their glittering flecks of amber gold, fixed on him expressionlessly.

As always, she also looked emotionless and unreadable. As if she only lived for battle.

"How went the capture?" inquired Thierry.

"Perfectly. I have my agents working on him as we speak." She smiled faintly at that thought.
Thierry nodded. Beneath her sophisticated exterior Jazda was easily capable of being ruthless. It disturbed him sometimes to see the undercurrent of violence in her ageless eyes.

Lately Thierry had sensed that something was changing in her, becoming more remote, more angry. The calm before the storm, he thought. Still he could understand that because he had once, well, many times experienced what she had gone through, but he'd always had hope at least...

It still concerned him. Jazda had a tendency to make up her own rules, and this was a crucial time for Circle Daybreak. But he intensely disliked having to warn her against this as he may be the oldest vampire on this planet but having to reprimand other old and powerful people made him feel somewhat embarrassed.
He'd leave it for now. Her contacts and agents were valuable assets and he didn't want to jeopardize them, and he had known her for a century and she had always kept her word.

"I have another matter needing to be settled, if you have the time," he offered instead. Something flickered in her amber eyes. "There's a group of spies been infiltrating us. I believe you'll find them at the Black Iris in ... precisely one hour. Nilsson has their descriptions."

"Hmm." Jazda arched a brow. "Do we need anything out of them?"

"No."

She smiled, then, in genuine pleasure. Her eyes shone with amber fire. "Excellent."
Jazda left Thierry's mansion, moving through the plushly decorated hall to the door, intent on her task, feeling the hunger for blood. That was the problem of being both werewolf and vampire, the hunger, the frequent lust for the hunt. Jazda lived for the hunt, now, lived to chase her prey. Lived for the one day when the burning desire for vengeance in her heart, that eternal fire in her inner core, could be satisfied by the blood of those she hated most. She'd find them one day. It was only a matter of time. Yeah, like time for her was an issue. Patience, on the other hand...

Because, years ago, before Jazda's vampire powers had surfaced at the age of eighteen, Jazda had found her soulmate. Her companion, her love, the other half of her soul, the person who was born to be with her until she died, destined to love her always.
Jazda Arione had watched him die at the hands of another a year later, helpless to save him. Love was gone.


Her revenge was her life. She was going to find every damned creature that had anything to do with what had happened the day her life had died, and kill every one of them to the very last one. Then, if it didn't tell her what she wanted to know, she'd kill it too.

Revenge was all that kept her alive.