Chapter One
The faint spring wind carried the scent of freshly-spilled blood across the western outskirts of the northern Frontier town of Gaskell. It had been drifting from the center of a moonlit meadow there where the corpse of a young female monster hunter lay collapsed in a patch of milky-white clover, a locating beacon activated on her hip, and her firearms lying at her side – undischarged.
A cloaked figure in black mounted atop a cyborg horse approached to investigate the body, drawn by the stench of death. The mysterious figure's face was obscured by a wide-brimmed traveller's hat and a scarf which concealed his identity from anyone or anything that may have been surveying the morbid scene.
The figure gazed down at the monster hunter's body lying in the clover. Grasped firmly in one of her hands was an armoured oak stake which penetrated the front of her chest and exited out of her back. Her other hand was pressed against a different kind of wound – two fresh puncture marks along the nape of her neck. The kiss of the nobility.
"Did herself in, huh," a voice seemed to rasp from where the figure's left hand was resting. "Quick decision too, that bite hadn't even stopped bleeding yet. Just happened. Shame, what a shame."
The figure in black made no effort to respond. Instead, he gripped his mount's reins and began to guide the cyborg horse away from the lifeless woman. No sooner than he had begun to turn he detected the sound of three natural horses, the pounding of their hooves reverberating in the earth as they carried their riders at top speed towards the meadow. One after the other the riders, clearly other young monster hunters although they were dressed in simple Frontier garb, appeared in the clearing and circled him. He remained so motionless and silent it was as if he was completely unaware that he was surrounded by experienced killers.
"You," a tanned, heavily-muscled man with slicked blonde hair and a sculpted beard growled at the figure in black, "identify yourself... and make it hasty." He placed one hand on the end of a retractable staff that hung at his side and glared at the unknown man, anger welling within him.
If the cloaked figure even breathed, it wasn't audible. The other hunters, another man and a woman, were silent as well.
"Buddy, that's my sister over there. And our brother was with her. You better start to fucking talk," the blonde man barked as he gestured at the corpse in the clover.
The other two hunters drew their weapons when the figure chose to ignore the blonde man's commands again; the woman two curved blades, one from each hip, and the other man a laser blaster.
"I'm no one important," the mysterious stranger stated softly as he tugged his scarf down with one delicate finger, revealing his face. "It appears your sister was the victim of a Noble. I can't speak for your brother as I wasn't here for their encounter." His voice was cold and haunting, and his pale visage was exquisitely beautiful, bordering on divine. His mournful eyes were particularly striking. He then began to guide his cyborg horse out of the meadow again, disregarding the three deadly hunters that were stationed around him.
"No one important?" The woman questioned the gorgeous stranger, releasing her blades and guiding her horse to stand in front of his, blocking its path. She had a small figure, alluring features, and kept her chestnut hair in an intricate braided bun. "I recognize you. You're that famous dhampir hunter, D. Have to be, can't mistake that face of yours. We've heard a lot of stories about you." She glared at him intently. It would be easy to become entranced by his beauty but she resisted; there was still danger from another potential vampire attack while her group was out in the open, and she was grieving for her dead sister and missing brother. "We came when the beacon went off but we were too late."
"Too late again," the other monster hunter declared, a tortured look on his face. This man was just as well-muscled as the blonde one but he was clean-shaven, pale, and had thick, messy black hair that hung over his eyes and across his shoulders. He dismounted, gestured to his horse for it to stand in place, and went over to attend to his deceased sister. Bodies left out unattended were quick to be dissolved by flesh-eating mists so the dead had to be recovered quickly if there was to be anything left to bury.
The blonde, bearded man manoeuvred his own horse to be closer to the living sister in an automatic defensive gesture. He swallowed hard. "If you are who we think you are, let us hire you. We could use the extra help. I ain't too big of a man to ask for it when I need it. I'm sure you could use the extra cash too. I'll even overpay you if that's what you need," he promised. "Sorry for the rough welcome, by the way. I'm Gerhardt Bellamy. Over there's our brother Jol Annaleis. With a stake through her kind heart is our youngest sister Eve Anderson. This lady you're speaking to is our sister Rhea Turner. We're the last of the Gaskell Guardians. Tell me – we got you pegged right? Are you the vampire hunter D?"
D nodded. His movement was almost imperceptible.
"D. My newest friend. You up to it?" Gerhardt forced a hopeful smile.
Again, D was silent.
"D,"Rhea prodded. "We're a family of hunters but we don't have experience with Nobles. They were only active here before we were all born, but there's one back now that's preying on our family. Four of us have been taken out in three days," she sighed in both sadness and frustration, looking over at Eve who was packed into a preservation sack and slung over the back of Jol's horse. "Our brother Toro Kedves is missing. Our sister Rohda Lloyd is missing. Our brother Turin Wright is missing. Our sister here is dead -"
"His name is 'Lord' Aviel Morreau and we wanna fuck him up bad," Jol suddenly interrupted, mounting his horse. "Local legend says that you killed his sister about 500 years ago. Maybe you're familiar with the bastard. If he keeps this pace up the rest of us will be gone within the week and there won't be anyone left to defend Gaskell from everything else."
The family waited anxiously for D to say something.
"Why target your family," D said quietly.
"We have a guess," Jol murmured. "We can talk about it more at our station. It's just two miles from here. If you're in, follow us. If you're not, get the hell out of Gaskell."