CHAPTER 6
The Bait
Erik woke up for the second time when someone knocked on the door.
“Yes?” His voice was still hoarse.
The door opened. Marcus stood there, dressed in black combat gear, a mug of coffee in his hand.
“Up, rookie. Time for training.”
Erik glanced at the clock on the wall. 6:47 p.m. He’d slept almost the entire day.
“Training?”
“You didn’t think we’d just throw you out on the street, did you?” Marcus grinned. “Helena may like you, but I’m the one who has to keep you alive. And for that, you need to learn how to fight.”
“I can fight.”
“You can hold a glowing key,” Marcus corrected. “That’s not the same thing. Come on. Put on something comfortable. We’ve got an hour before the real work begins.”
“What kind of work?”
Marcus’s grin widened. “We’re going hunting.”
Twenty minutes later, Erik stood in one of the basement rooms that had been converted into a training area. Mats on the floor, punching bags along the walls, a rack full of weapons—knives, staffs, even a few swords.
Marcus tossed him a wooden sword. Erik caught it, surprised by its weight.
“Too heavy?” Marcus asked.
“No. Just… I’ve never fought with a sword before.”
“Then it’s time you learned.” Marcus took a wooden sword himself and moved into an attack stance. “Rule number one: vampires are faster than you. Much faster. You won’t outmatch them head-on.”
“Comforting.”
“Rule number two: they’re arrogant. They underestimate humans. That’s your advantage.” Marcus circled him. “Rule number three: aim for the limbs. Slow them down. A vampire without legs is just as helpless as a human.”
“And the heart? A stake through the heart?”
“Works. But only if you get close enough. And if they let you get that close, you’re probably already dead.” Marcus stopped. “Ready?”
“I—”
Marcus attacked.
Erik parried on instinct, his wooden sword crashing against Marcus’s. The impact made his arms vibrate.
“Good!” Marcus shouted. “But too slow!”
He attacked again, faster. Erik dodged, tried to counter, but Marcus was everywhere. Left, right—a blow to Erik’s ribs.
Erik stumbled and went down.
“Dead,” Marcus said. “Get up.”
Erik scrambled to his feet, panting.
They trained for a full hour. Every time Erik thought he was getting the rhythm, Marcus changed tactics. Attacked from unexpected angles. Used dirty tricks—sweeps, elbows, headbutts.
“Vampires don’t fight fair,” Marcus explained after knocking Erik down for the tenth time. “Why should you?”
By the end of the hour, Erik was drenched in sweat, bruised in places he hadn’t known could bruise, and his muscles burned.
But he felt… good. Alive.
“Not bad for your first day,” Marcus said, handing him a towel. “You’ve got instincts. That’s good. But instincts aren’t enough. You need discipline.”
“When do we train again?”
“Every day. Two hours.” Marcus clapped him on the shoulder—harder than necessary. “Welcome to hell, rookie.”
They went back to the conference room. The others were already there.
Helena stood in front of the map of Munich, marking something with a red pen. Yuki typed on her tablet. Thomas sat at the table, hands folded, eyes closed—praying or meditating.
“Status?” Marcus asked.
Helena turned around. “We have a problem. Or rather—we have no lead.”
“What do you mean?”
“Valentina. The other vampires from last night. They’ve vanished. Completely off the radar.” Helena sounded frustrated. “I activated all our sources—informants, surveillance cameras, everything. Nothing.”
“They’ve gone into hiding,” Yuki said. “After the incident in the park, they know we’re hunting them. They’ll be more careful.”
“Too careful,” Marcus muttered. “We need a new approach.”
“That’s why I called you.” Helena went to the table and spread out several photos. Surveillance images from different places in Munich—bars, clubs, dark alleys. “Vampires have to hunt. They can’t survive for months without blood. If they stay in Munich, they’ll strike eventually.”
“And we wait until they kill again?” Erik shook his head. “We can’t do that.”
“We won’t.” Helena looked at him. “That’s why we’re setting bait.”
Silence filled the room.
“You mean…” Yuki began.
“Yes. We give them a target. Someone who looks tempting. Vulnerable. Alone.” Helena’s gaze shifted to Marcus. “Someone they won’t be able to resist.”
Marcus leaned back, crossing his arms. “You want me to play decoy.”
“You’re the most experienced. If something goes wrong—”
“It won’t.” Marcus suddenly grinned. “I’ve done this before. Berlin, three years ago. It worked then.”
“And you were almost killed,” Yuki reminded him.
“But only almost.” Marcus winked at her. “Besides, I’ve gotten smarter since then.”
“I doubt that,” Yuki muttered, but she smiled.
Erik stepped closer to the photos. “Where would we do this?”
“Glockenbach district,” Helena replied. “A hotspot for Munich nightlife. Lots of people, lots of bars. Perfect for vampires looking to hunt. And…” She pointed at one of the photos. “It lies on one of the ley lines. If the Council wants to act, they’ll show up there sooner or later.”
“When?”
“Tonight.”
Erik stared at her. “That fast?”
“The longer we wait, the more time they have to organize.” Helena’s voice was firm. “We need to apply pressure. Lure them out of hiding.”
“And if they don’t come?”
“Then we try again tomorrow. And the day after.” Helena looked at each of them. “That’s our job. Patience and endurance. We don’t give up.”
Thomas opened his eyes. “Who will accompany Marcus? As backup?”
“Erik,” Helena said.
Everyone stared at her.
“Me?” Erik shook his head. “I’ve just started training. An hour ago I didn’t even know how to hold a sword!”
“That’s why you won’t fight.” Helena went to a cabinet and took something out—a pair of headphones connected to a small device. “You’ll observe. From a rooftop, with binoculars. You’re our eyes. If you see anything, you tell us over the radio.”
“I can do that.”
“And you have the Soul Key.” Helena handed him the device. “If something goes wrong—if Marcus is in danger—you use it. Create a barrier. Hold the vampires back until we can intervene.”
“And if I don’t manage in time?”
“Then Marcus dies.” Helena’s voice was cold. Realistic. “That’s why you have to stay focused. No mistakes.”
Erik swallowed. The weight of responsibility pressed down on his shoulders.
“I understand.”
“Good.” Helena turned to the others. “Yuki, you stay here and coordinate via the cameras. Thomas, you’re coming with me. We’re the second team—nearby, ready to step in.”
“Weapons?” Marcus asked.
“Light. Pistols, knives. Nothing that draws attention.” Helena glanced at her watch. “We move out in an hour. Get ready.”
Erik spent the next hour assembling his gear.
Yuki helped him. She showed him how to use the radio, how to adjust the night-vision binoculars, how to conceal a small pistol—“for emergencies only,” she emphasized.
And then there was the key.
Erik took it from his pocket and placed it on the table between him and Yuki.
“Does it scare you?” Yuki asked quietly.
“Yes,” Erik admitted. “Thomas said it could devour my soul if I use it too often.”
“That’s possible.” Yuki touched the key carefully, with just one finger. “But there are safeguards.”
“What kind of safeguards?”
She went to a shelf and took out a small box. Inside were several thin bracelets made of braided metal.
“Silver, threaded with iron,” she explained. “Both metals have protective properties against dark magic. If you wear this, the key will seep into you more slowly.”
“More slowly. Not not at all.”
“Nothing can protect you completely, Erik. But this buys you time. Increases your chances.” Yuki took one bracelet and fastened it around his wrist. It felt cool, calming.
“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me. I don’t want you to end up like…” She trailed off.
“Like who?”
Yuki hesitated. “The last bearer of the Soul Key. Twenty years ago. A man named Jakob Stein. He was… brave. Strong. But he used the key too often. Too recklessly.” She looked away. “One day we found him. He was holding the key, but he… he wasn’t there anymore. His body was empty. As if someone had sucked his soul out.”
A chill ran down Erik’s spine. “What did you do with him?”
“We buried him. With the key.” Yuki looked at him. “But three months later, the key appeared again. Near Falkenstein Castle. As if it had been searching for a new bearer.”
“Me.”
“You.” Yuki placed her hand over his. “Be careful, Erik. The key is powerful—but it’s also hungry. Don’t feed it too much.”
“I’ll be careful.”
“Do you promise?”
“I promise.”
They set out at 10:00 p.m.
Two cars again. Marcus and Erik in the first, an unremarkable Toyota. Helena and Thomas in the second, a dark Mercedes.
The drive to Glockenbach took fifteen minutes. The streets were crowded despite the cold November night. People streamed into bars, restaurants, clubs. Laughing, celebrating, living.
Unaware of what lurked in the shadows.
Marcus parked in a side alley. “Your vantage point is over there.” He pointed to a four-story building with a flat roof. “Fire escape. You know the way?”
Erik nodded. They had studied the route on a map.
“Good. Yuki’s on channel three. Helena and Thomas on channel two. I’m on channel one.” Marcus handed him a small radio. “Stay in the shadows. Don’t move unless it’s absolutely necessary. And if you see something—”
“I’ll report it immediately.”
“Exactly.” Marcus looked at him, his face serious now. “And Erik? If things escalate—if it gets too dangerous—run. Understood? We don’t need dead heroes.”
“Understood.”
They got out. The cold air hit Erik’s face, sharpening his senses.
Marcus headed toward the busiest street. He had swapped his combat gear for jeans and a leather jacket, looking like any other Munich local heading out for the night.
Erik went the other way, found the fire escape, and climbed up.
The roof was flat, covered in gravel. Ventilation shafts rose like sculptures. Erik positioned himself behind one, with a clear view of the street below.
He took out the binoculars and switched on night vision. The world turned green—but sharper.
“Position secured,” he whispered into the radio.
“Copy,” Yuki’s voice replied. “Cameras are online. I see you.”
“Marcus?”
“On my way to the bar,” Marcus’s voice came back, accompanied by background noise—music, voices. “I’m ordering a drink. Then the show begins.”
Erik watched. The street below was a river of people—groups of friends, couples, lone figures.
Which of them were human? Which were… something else?
“Yuki,” Erik whispered. “What am I looking for? How do I spot a vampire?”
“Movement patterns,” Yuki replied. “They move differently. More fluid. And they avoid large groups. Prefer to hunt singles.”
“How long does it usually take?”
“Sometimes minutes. Sometimes hours. Sometimes not at all.” Yuki’s voice was calm. “Be patient.”
Erik was patient. He sat there, motionless, watching.
Half an hour passed. Marcus drank his drink, ordered a second. Played the role of the slightly drunk man perfectly.
An hour. People came and went. Bars filled up, emptied, filled again.
“Anything?” Helena asked over the radio.
“Negative,” Erik replied.
“Stay sharp.”
Another thirty minutes. Erik felt the cold now, creeping through his jacket. His legs grew stiff from crouching.
And then he saw her.
A woman. Young, maybe twenty-five. Long dark hair, a red dress glowing in the neon light. She stood at the edge of the street, away from the crowd, watching.
Her movements were too smooth. Too precise. And her eyes—even through the binoculars, Erik could see them glowing. Just faintly, but unmistakably.
“Contact,” Erik whispered. “Female, red dress, south end of the street.”
“Confirmed,” Yuki said. “Camera twenty-three has her too. That’s not Valentina, but definitely a vampire.”
“Marcus,” Helena said. “Leave the bar. Slowly. Head south.”
“Copy.”
Erik watched as Marcus stepped out of the bar, swaying slightly—perfect acting. He walked down the street alone, vulnerable.
The woman in the red dress noticed him.
Her posture changed. From observing to… predatory.
She began to follow him.
“She’s on him,” Erik whispered. His heartbeat quickened.
“I see her,” Marcus’s calm voice replied. “Keeping her distance?”
“No. She’s closing in. Twenty meters. Fifteen.”
Marcus turned into a darker side alley. Perfect—fewer witnesses, more shadows.
The woman followed.
“Ten meters,” Erik said.
“We’re moving in,” Helena said. “Thomas and I, eastern access.”
“I’m ready,” Marcus said.
The woman suddenly accelerated—not running, but faster than any human should walk.
Five meters.
Marcus turned around, as if he’d just noticed her. “Oh—sorry, did I scare you?”
The woman smiled. Even from above, Erik could see her teeth. Too white. Too sharp.
“No,” she said, her voice melodic. “I’m just lonely. How about some company?”
“Sorry, I’m on my way to—”
She attacked.
Faster than Erik could follow. One second she was two meters away; the next she had Marcus by the collar, slamming him against the wall.
“You smell interesting,” she hissed. “Not just human. Something… more.”
Marcus grinned. “So do you, sweetheart.”
He drove a silver knife into her shoulder.
The woman screamed, let go, staggered back. Steam rose from the wound where the silver touched her flesh.
“You dare—”
Helena and Thomas burst in from the eastern access. Helena had her pistol drawn; Thomas swung a silver chain like a whip.
The vampire looked from one to the other, realization dawning—she was surrounded.
“Trap,” she hissed.
“Smart girl,” Marcus said.
She jumped.
Not at them—upward. Up the wall, inhumanly fast, her fingers finding purchase on tiny ledges.
“She’s heading for the roof!” Yuki shouted in Erik’s ear.
Erik turned—just in time.
The vampire landed on the roof, ten meters away from him.
Her eyes locked onto him immediately, glowing red.
“An observer,” she said. “How sweet.”
Erik reached for the Soul Key.
But the vampire was faster.
She crossed the distance in a heartbeat, her hand closing around Erik’s throat, lifting him off the ground.
“Drop the key,” she hissed. “Or I snap your neck.”
Erik couldn’t breathe. His fingers clawed at her hand, trying to pry it loose, but she was like stone.
“Erik!” Helena’s voice came through the radio, desperate.
The vampire leaned closer. “You have something that belongs to us. Something old. Something powerful.” Her eyes fixed on the key in Erik’s hand. “Give it to me.”
Erik’s vision blurred. Lack of oxygen. Seconds before he would lose consciousness.
He thought of Clara. Of the baby. Of everything he had fought for.
And he did the only thing he could.
He activated the key.
Light exploded outward. Not focused like during the ritual, but wild and uncontrolled.
The vampire screamed, released him, staggered back. Her face was burned where the light had hit her.
Erik hit the ground, gasping for air.
The barrier formed—a ring of light holding the vampire at bay.
She snarled, tried to break through, but the light held.
“You will die, hunter,” she hissed. “You and everyone you love. The Council is coming. The eternal night is coming. And no one will save you.”
Then she jumped—off the roof, four stories down.
Erik crawled to the edge and looked down.
The vampire hit the street, rolled, and ran. Vanished into the shadows before Helena or Thomas could reach her.
“Erik!” Marcus came rushing up the fire escape. “Are you okay?”
Erik nodded, still struggling for breath. His throat hurt; there would be bruises.
But he was alive.
“She got away,” he rasped.
“That doesn’t matter.” Marcus helped him up. “You survived. That’s what counts.”
Helena and Thomas reached the roof. Helena’s face was pale.
“Erik, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”
“It’s okay.” Erik’s voice was rough. “We learned what we needed to know.”
“What’s that?” Thomas asked.
“They know about the key.” Erik held up the still-glowing key. “They want it. And they’ll come back to get it.”
Helena and Marcus exchanged a look.
“Then we have a bigger problem,” Helena said quietly.
“Why?” Erik asked.
“Because,” Marcus said, “if the Council gets their hands on the Soul Key, they can do more than just extinguish the sun.”
“Then what?”
“They can open the gates of hell,” Thomas replied. “And bring back everything that ever died.”
The words hung in the cold night air.
Erik looked down at the key in his hand.
The responsibility he carried had just become much heavier.
“Then,” he said quietly, “we should make sure they never get it.”
Helena nodded. “Then that’s what we’ll do.”
They left the roof, back to the cars, back to the safety of headquarters.
But Erik knew: real safety no longer existed.
Not as long as the Council was in Munich.
Not as long as he carried the Soul Key.
The war had only just begun.
CHAPTER 7
The DNA Trail
The drive back to headquarters was tense. Erik sat in the back of the Mercedes, gripping the Soul Key tightly, while Helena drove and Thomas sat beside her in silence. His throat still hurt where the vampire had grabbed him. He could feel the imprint of her fingers, burned into his skin.
“You could have died,” Helena finally said. Her voice was controlled, but Erik heard the tension beneath it.
“But I didn’t.”
“Only because you were lucky.”
“Or because the key protected me.” Erik looked down at the artifact. It was still glowing faintly, a pulsing golden light. “It knew I was in danger.”
“The key is not a living being,” Thomas said quietly. “It reacts to you. To your fear, your will to survive. But it has no will of its own.”
“Are you sure?”
Thomas remained silent.
They reached the bookstore. Marcus was already there, having parked the Toyota in the garage. He was waiting by the door, a bloody scratch on his cheek.
“She got you,” Erik remarked.
“Just a scratch.” Marcus waved it off. “But she was fast. Faster than most I’ve seen.”
“And she knew about the key,” Helena said as they descended the spiral staircase. “That’s the most disturbing part. The Council has information about us.”
“Or they guessed what Erik is carrying,” Thomas said. “The Soul Key is a legend in the vampire world. If they see a human fighting with a glowing artifact, they draw their conclusions.”
In the conference room, Yuki was already waiting for them. She had activated several monitors, all showing different recordings of the incident. On one screen, the vampire could be seen enlarged, her face captured at the moment just before she attacked.
“I ran her through our database,” Yuki said without greeting. “No hits in Europe. But…” She typed, and the image changed to an old black-and-white photograph. “This is from 1923. Budapest. A series of murders. Authorities found twelve bodies, all drained of blood.”
In the photo stood a woman in an old-fashioned dress. The face was blurred, but the resemblance was unmistakable.
“That’s her?” Erik asked.
“I’m ninety percent sure.” Yuki zoomed in on the face. “The facial structure matches. If it’s her, she’s at least a hundred years old.”
“Old enough to be powerful,” Marcus muttered.
“But not old enough to be on the Council,” Helena said. “The Elders are thousands of years old. She’s probably a servant. An enforcer.”
“One of many,” Thomas added. “If the Council really has come to Munich, they’ve brought an army.”
“Then we need to find out how big that army is.” Helena turned to Yuki. “What did we get from tonight? Any traces?”
“Better than traces.” Yuki gave a thin smile. “Marcus injured her. When she fled, she bled. I sent teams to the alley. They collected samples.”
“Blood samples?” Erik’s interest was piqued. “What can we do with those?”
“More than you think.” Yuki stood and motioned them toward another room. “Come. I’ll show you.”
They walked down a corridor, deeper into headquarters. Yuki opened a door with a keypad. Inside was a lab.
It was small but highly modern. Centrifuges, microscopes, computers with multiple screens. Along one wall stood a large refrigerator, likely for samples.
“Welcome to my domain,” Yuki said. She went to one of the computers and logged in. “When I joined the Night Watch, I insisted that we work scientifically. Myths and legends are all well and good, but DNA doesn’t lie.”
“Do vampires have DNA?” Erik asked.
“Yes and no.” Yuki pulled on gloves and took a Petri dish from a small fridge next to the computer. Inside was a dark, almost black liquid—the vampire’s blood. “Their blood is different from human blood. The red blood cells are mutated, able to transport oxygen more efficiently. And there are… additives.”
“Additives?”
Yuki placed a drop of the blood on a slide and slid it under a microscope. She typed, and the image appeared on one of the monitors.
Erik stared at it.
The blood was moving. Not like normal blood, sluggish and thick. But alive, as if tiny organisms were swimming inside it, writhing.
“What is that?” he whispered.
“That is the vampiric essence,” Yuki explained. “A virus, a parasite, a curse—no one knows exactly what it is. But it alters the human body on a fundamental level. Increases strength, speed, senses. Stops aging. And creates… well, a vampire.”
“Can it be cured?” Thomas asked. “If it’s a virus, is there a cure?”
“Theoretically, yes. Practically…” Yuki shook her head. “Once the transformation is complete, the virus is so deeply integrated that removing it would kill the host. That’s why the ritual only works on children like Lukas—because the transformation wasn’t complete yet.”
“But you can analyze the blood,” Helena said. “What are you looking for?”
“DNA markers. Every vampire clan has unique genetic signatures. Like fingerprints.” Yuki began typing, data filling the screen. “If I can identify this vampire’s signature, we can find out which clan she belongs to. And maybe…” She hesitated. “Maybe who created her.”
“How long will that take?” Marcus asked.
“The initial analysis is already done. I ran it through the database while you were driving back.” Yuki opened a file. “And I found something interesting.”
She zoomed in on a section of the DNA sequence. To Erik, it looked like random letters and numbers, but Yuki’s eyes lit up.
“This,” she said, pointing at a sequence, “matches another sample in our database.”
“Which sample?” Helena asked.
Yuki opened a second window. It showed information about a case. Berlin, three years ago. A vampire attack in a subway station. Five dead. The vampire escaped, but left blood behind.
“It’s the same clan,” Yuki said. “The genetic markers match at ninety-eight percent.”
“What does that mean?” Erik asked.
“It means,” Helena said slowly, “that the vampire who killed in Berlin three years ago and the vampire who attacked Marcus tonight are either related—or descended from the same creator.”
“And look at this.” Yuki scrolled on. “I expanded the database to include international cases. Budapest, Prague, Vienna—over the last ten years there have been similar incidents in all of these cities. And the DNA traces…” She pointed to a graphic, lines connecting different cities. “They all originate from the same source.”
“A family tree,” Thomas whispered. “A vampire family tree.”
“Exactly.” Yuki enlarged the graphic. “And if I trace the development backward, I arrive at an origin point. A source.”
She typed. The image zoomed in on a marker, and a name appeared.
Origin: Budapest, 1891.
Primary source: Unknown.
Codename: The Eldest.
Silence filled the lab.
“The Eldest,” Helena repeated. “That’s the leader of the Council. It has to be her.”
“If all these vampires descend from her,” Marcus said slowly, “how many has she created?”
“Hard to say. But based on the cases we’ve documented…” Yuki calculated. “At least fifty. Possibly more.”
“Fifty vampires,” Erik whispered. “All spread across Europe.”
“Not anymore.” Helena stepped closer to the screen. “Yuki, overlay the map with current sightings. Show me where these vampires are now.”
Yuki typed. The map changed, new markers appeared—and a pattern became visible.
All the markers were concentrated on one city.
Munich.
“They’re coming together,” Thomas whispered. “They’re gathering.”
“For the summer solstice,” Helena said. “For the ritual.”
“But why so early?” Marcus asked. “That’s still seven months away. Why are they coming now?”
“Preparation,” Yuki replied. “A ritual of that magnitude takes time. They need to activate the ley lines, prepare the sites, gather sacrifices.”
“Sacrifices,” Erik repeated. His stomach tightened. “The five dead. Those weren’t just random hunts.”
“No.” Helena’s face was grim. “They were tests. They’re collecting blood, testing resonance, preparing the victims.”
“But there’s more,” Yuki said. She opened another file. “When I analyzed the vampire’s blood sample, I found traces of something else. Not vampiric. Not human.”
She zoomed in on the image. Between the vampiric cells were tiny, almost invisible particles.
“What is that?” Erik asked.
“I don’t know exactly. But…” Yuki hesitated. “It looks like infant blood.”
The words made the temperature in the room drop.
“Lukas,” Helena whispered. “She was at Lukas.”
“Or at other babies,” Yuki said. “I checked the database of Munich hospitals. Neonatal wards. In the last three weeks, there have been seven incidents like the one at the hospital on the right bank of the Isar. Babies with unexplained wounds on their necks. All dismissed as insect bites.”
“Seven babies,” Thomas said, his voice nearly breaking. “My God.”
“We saved Lukas,” Helena said quickly. “We can save the others too.”
“Can we?” Marcus sounded skeptical. “We had a lead with Lukas. The mother posted online. But if the other families stay quiet, if they don’t say anything…”
“Then we have to find them.” Helena turned to Yuki. “I need a list. All infants treated in Munich hospitals in the last three weeks for unexplained wounds. Names, addresses—everything.”
“That’s illegal,” Yuki said. “Data protection—”
“Yuki.” Helena’s voice was sharp. “This is about children. About babies being turned into vampires. Do you really think I care about data protection right now?”
Yuki swallowed, then nodded. “I can hack the databases. It’ll take a few hours, but I’ll get the list.”
“Good. Do it.” Helena took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. “Marcus, you and Thomas prepare the equipment. If we’re visiting these families, we need to be ready to perform the ritual multiple times.”
“Do we have enough supplies?” Thomas asked.
“We’ll have to.” Helena turned to Erik. “And you—”
“I’m coming with you,” Erik said immediately.
“Erik, you were almost killed tonight—”
“And I’m still alive. And I have the key. If you have to perform multiple rituals, you’ll need me.” Erik’s voice was firm. “Besides—the vampire knew about the key. The Council won’t stop looking for it. Wherever I am, I’m a target. So I might as well be useful.”
Helena looked at him for a long moment. Then she nodded slowly. “All right. But you follow my orders. No going off on your own.”
“Understood.”
“Good.” Helena turned toward the door. “We have until dawn. Yuki gets the list. The rest of us prepare. And then…” She looked at each of them. “Then we save those children.”
They left the lab. Only Yuki stayed behind, already absorbed in her computers again.
Erik followed the others back to the conference room. His body was exhausted, but his mind raced. Seven babies. Seven tiny lives being twisted into darkness.
And somewhere out there: the Eldest. The woman who had planned all of this. Who had turned hundreds—maybe thousands.
“Helena,” Erik said suddenly. “You said you want to find your brother. Dimitri.”
Helena stopped and turned around. “Yes.”
“When?”
“Soon. But first the children.” Her eyes were tired. “I can’t… I can’t think about my brother while innocent lives are at stake.”
“But he could help us. He might know where the Eldest is, what she’s planning.”
“Or he could kill us.” Helena’s voice was bitter. “Dimitri is no longer the brother I knew. He’s been a vampire for forty years. He’s killed, hunted, done things that…” She broke off. “I don’t know if I can still trust him.”
“But you have to try.”
“Yes.” Helena smiled faintly. “I have to try.”
The next hours passed in feverish activity.
Thomas turned another basement room into a ritual site, preparing everything for multiple ceremonies. Marcus organized the equipment—more holy water, more candles, more silver blades.
And Erik practiced.
Alone in the small training room, he worked with the Soul Key. Tried to control it, to summon the light deliberately instead of in wild panic.
It was harder than he had thought.
The key reacted to emotion. To fear and desperation. But when Erik tried to activate it calmly, nothing happened.
“You’re thinking too much,” a voice said behind him.
Erik turned. Thomas stood in the doorway, arms crossed.
“What do you mean?”
“The key isn’t a machine. It’s a connection. Between you and…” Thomas searched for words. “Something greater. A source. You can’t control it through sheer will. You have to feel it.”
“Feel it?”
“Trust it. Let it flow into you instead of trying to force it.” Thomas stepped closer. “May I?”
Erik nodded.
Thomas placed his hand over Erik’s, which was holding the key. “Close your eyes. Breathe deeply. Feel the metal. The warmth. The pulsing.”
Erik obeyed. The metal was warm, almost hot. And there was a rhythm—like a heartbeat, just as he had felt before.
“Now imagine that this heartbeat is yours,” Thomas said softly. “That you are one. Not bearer and tool. But partners.”
Erik focused. The heartbeat of the key, his own heartbeat—they merged, became one.
And the key began to glow.
Softly. Controlled. A warm, golden light.
“Good,” Thomas whispered. “Now hold it. Breathe with it.”
Erik held it. The light remained stable. Not wild like in panic, not explosive. Just… there.
“How long can I hold this?” Erik asked.
“That depends on you. On your strength. Your concentration.” Thomas let go. “But be careful. The longer you keep it active, the more of yourself you pour into it.”
Erik opened his eyes and let the light fade. “Thank you.”
“No need.” Thomas smiled. “You’re learning quickly. That’s good. You’ll need it.”
At 5:30 a.m., Yuki emerged from her lab.
She looked exhausted but triumphant. In her hand was a printout—several pages.
“I’ve got them,” she said, placing the papers on the conference table. “Seven families. All with infants treated in the last three weeks for unexplained wounds.”
Helena took the list and skimmed it. “Names, addresses, everything here?”
“Everything.” Yuki sat down and rubbed her eyes. “But there’s a problem.”
“What kind of problem?”
“The Berger family—Lukas—isn’t the only one where we might be too late.” Yuki pointed to one of the names. “Look at this case. Sophie Hartmann. Eight weeks old. First wound six weeks ago.”
Erik froze. “Hartmann? Like the woman from forensics? Sophie Hartmann?”
“The daughter,” Yuki said quietly. “Sophie Hartmann—the student we saw in forensics—she had a younger sister. A baby. And both were attacked.”
“My God.” Helena let the papers fall. “The vampire didn’t just kill the student. She also infected the baby.”
“Where is the baby now?” Marcus asked.
Yuki scrolled on her tablet. “With the grandmother. The parents are dead—both in a car accident two weeks ago.”
“An accident?” Thomas sounded skeptical. “Or was there help involved?”
“Hard to say. But the timeline fits.” Yuki looked up. “If the baby has been infected for six weeks…”
“Then the transformation is almost complete,” Thomas finished. “We may only have days. Maybe only hours.”
“Then we start with this family.” Helena stood up. “Yuki, give me the address.”
“Bogenhausen. Not far from here.”
“Good. Marcus, Thomas, Erik—with me. Yuki, you stay here and coordinate. If anything goes wrong—”
“I call for backup. I know.” Yuki nodded.
They set off as the first light of dawn colored the sky.
The city was waking up. People were going to work, cafés were opening, life went on.
But for the Hartmann family—for little baby Sophie—a clock was ticking.
And time was running out.
CHAPTER 8
At the Hartmann Family’s Home
The address in Bogenhausen led them to a quiet residential street with manicured gardens and large villas. Old trees lined the road, their bare branches reaching into the gray morning sky like skeletons.
“Number twenty-seven,” Helena said, pointing to a white house with dark green shutters. A Mercedes sat in the driveway; the front garden was immaculate, even in November.
“Affluent area,” Marcus remarked. “How do we explain to a wealthy grandmother that her grandchild was bitten by a vampire?”
“Carefully,” Helena replied as she parked along the curb. “And honestly. Sometimes the truth works better than lies.”
“Sometimes,” Marcus muttered skeptically.
They got out. The air was cold, damp with night dew. Erik pulled his jacket tighter around himself. The Soul Key hung heavy in his pocket—a constant weight, a constant reminder.
Helena rang the bell. A melodic chime sounded somewhere inside the house.
They waited. Erik could hear his own heartbeat, too loud, too fast.
The door opened a crack. A woman peered out—late sixties, gray hair cut into an elegant bob. She wore a silk robe and looked at them with a mix of confusion and concern.
“Yes?”
“Mrs. Hartmann?” Helena flashed an ID, too quickly for the woman to really read it. “My name is Dr. Konstantin. I’m with the public health office. It’s about your granddaughter Sophie.”
Confusion turned to alarm. “Sophie? What about her? Has something happened?”
“May we come in? It’s important.”
Mrs. Hartmann hesitated, but the seriousness in Helena’s face convinced her. She opened the door fully. “Of course. Please.”
They entered a spacious foyer. Marble floors, a chandelier overhead, artwork on the walls. The smell of freshly brewed coffee hung in the air.
“My granddaughter,” Mrs. Hartmann said nervously. “She’s healthy. The doctors said—”
“We know what the doctors said,” Helena replied gently but firmly. “But we believe there’s more to it. Something regular medicine can’t detect.”
“I don’t understand.”
“May we see Sophie?”
Mrs. Hartmann led them down a long hallway to a room on the ground floor. She opened the door quietly. “She’s still sleeping. She always sleeps late in the morning since… since the incident.”
The room was set up as a makeshift nursery. A playpen in the corner, a changing table against the wall. And in a small travel crib: a baby.
Erik stepped closer. His stomach tightened.
The baby—Sophie—was tiny, barely eight weeks old. But her skin had that translucent quality Erik recognized from Lukas. Too pale, almost gray. The small veins beneath her skin were far too visible, like a dark web.
And on her neck: the wounds. Two punctures, larger than Lukas’s, deeper. The skin around them was darkened, almost black.
“How long has she had these wounds?” Thomas asked softly.
“Six weeks,” Mrs. Hartmann replied. She stood in the doorway, her hands trembling slightly. “The doctors said they were insect bites. But they don’t heal. And Sophie…” Her voice broke. “She behaves so strangely. She only sleeps during the day. At night she’s awake, screaming. And her appetite… she doesn’t want normal milk anymore.”
“What does she want?” Helena asked, though Erik could see she already knew the answer.
“I… I don’t know how to say this.” Mrs. Hartmann looked away, ashamed. “One night, while I was making her bottle, I cut myself. On my finger. A few drops of blood fell in. And Sophie…” She swallowed. “She drank. For the first time in days. And since then… since then I’ve been adding a few drops. Just a few. I thought maybe she needed iron, or—”
“You’re not doing anything wrong,” Helena said quickly. “You did what you could to keep your granddaughter alive.”
“But what’s wrong with her?” Tears streamed down Mrs. Hartmann’s face. “Please, tell me the truth. My daughter is dead. My son-in-law is dead. Sophie is all I have left. Please.”
Helena took a deep breath. “The truth is complicated. And you probably won’t believe me.”
“Try me.”
Helena looked at Thomas, then at Erik. A silent question: how much do we say?
Thomas gave a slight nod. Tell her.
“Your granddaughter was attacked,” Helena began. “By something that isn’t human. Something very old and very dangerous. The wounds on her neck aren’t from insects. They’re bite marks.”
“Bite marks? From what? An animal?”
“From a vampire.”
The words hung in the air like a detonation.
Mrs. Hartmann stared at Helena. Then she laughed—a short, disbelieving laugh. “That’s… that’s absurd. Vampires don’t exist. They’re fairy tales.”
“They were fairy tales,” Marcus corrected. “Until they became real.”
“You’re insane. All three of you.” Mrs. Hartmann backed toward the door. “I want you to leave. Now. Or I’ll call the police.”
“Please, listen to us,” Erik stepped forward. “I know how this sounds. I wouldn’t have believed it either. But three weeks ago, we saved another baby. Lukas Berger. He had the same symptoms as Sophie. And we were able to heal him.”
“Heal him? How?”
“Through a ritual. It’s complicated, but it works.” Erik pulled the Soul Key from his pocket. “With this.”
Mrs. Hartmann stared at the key. In the morning light it glowed faintly, a warm, golden pulse.
“What… what is that?”
“A tool,” Thomas said. “A very old, very powerful tool. It can draw the darkness out of your granddaughter. But we have to act quickly. The longer we wait, the harder it becomes.”
“And if I say no?”
“Then Sophie will die,” Helena said flatly, honestly. “Or worse—she’ll fully transform. And then she won’t be a baby anymore. She’ll be a monster.”
Mrs. Hartmann looked at the crib, where Sophie slept peacefully. Her tiny chest rose and fell with each breath. So normal. So innocent.
“She’s all I have left,” Mrs. Hartmann whispered.
“Then let us help her,” Helena said softly.
A long pause. Then Mrs. Hartmann nodded, tears streaming down her face. “What do I have to do?”
They worked quickly.
Thomas turned the living room into a makeshift ritual site. He drew symbols on the parquet floor with chalk—Mrs. Hartmann protested weakly, then gave up—and placed candles in a circle.
Marcus positioned himself at the window, watching the street. “If the vampire senses what we’re doing, it’ll come,” he said. “We need to be ready.”
Erik helped Thomas with the preparations. His hands trembled slightly, but he forced himself to stay calm. You’ve done this before, he reminded himself. With Lukas. You can do it again.
But a voice in his head whispered: Lukas was younger. Lukas’s transformation had just begun. Sophie is further along. What if it doesn’t work?
“Erik.” Thomas’s hand rested on his shoulder. “Trust the process. Trust yourself.”
Erik nodded, trying to believe.
Helena took Sophie from the crib. The baby woke immediately and began to cry—not the piercing, unnatural scream Lukas had made, but close enough. A sound that scraped at the nerves.
“It’s all right,” Helena murmured, rocking the baby. “It’ll be over soon.”
They laid Sophie in the center of the circle on a soft blanket. Mrs. Hartmann knelt beside her, holding her granddaughter’s tiny hand, crying silently.
“Are you ready?” Thomas asked.
Mrs. Hartmann nodded.
Thomas began to sing—the same ancient words as in Lukas’s ritual. Latin, Hebrew, languages Erik didn’t understand but whose power he could feel.
The air in the room changed. It grew denser, heavier. The candles flickered.
Thomas took the silver blade. “Your blood, Mrs. Hartmann.”
The older woman held out her hand. Thomas struck quickly; three drops of blood fell into the chalice of holy water.
Then he turned to Sophie. “Forgive me, little one.”
He cut her. Sophie screamed, loud and piercing.
Three drops fell into the chalice.
“Erik.”
Erik stepped forward and extended his hand. The blade struck. The pain was sharp but brief. Three drops of his blood mixed with the others.
The water in the chalice began to glow. Weaker than with Lukas, Erik noticed. Weaker—and more unstable.
Thomas raised the chalice over Sophie. “In the name of the Light older than the darkness. In the name of the lives that outlast sacrifice. In the name of love stronger than death.” He poured the glowing water over Sophie’s forehead. “I command the darkness: leave this child!”
Sophie screamed again. But this time it didn’t stop.
Her tiny body began to shake. The wounds on her neck opened, dark red—almost black—blood seeping out.
“The key!” Thomas shouted. “Now!”
Erik raised the Soul Key. He focused as Thomas had taught him. Felt the key’s heartbeat and let it merge with his own.
The light came—but slower than before. And weaker.
“Erik, more!” Thomas’s voice was tense. “Give more!”
Erik tried. He pushed harder, focused more intensely. The light grew stronger—but not enough.
From Sophie’s wounds, the darkness began to seep out—the same black, oily substance as with Lukas. But more of it. Much more.
It writhed, trying to flow back into Sophie’s body.
“Hold it back!” Thomas yelled.
Erik pushed with all his strength. Light exploded from the key, striking the darkness.
But the darkness fought back.
It began to whisper—not with words, but with thoughts, directly in Erik’s mind.
She is ours. She belongs to us. You cannot save her.
“Lies,” Erik forced out.
Look at her. Look how far she already is. She is more ours than yours.
Erik forced himself to look. Sophie’s eyes had opened. They were red. Glowing red. And within them… was there still humanity? Or only hunger?
Let go, the darkness whispered. Leave the child to us. Take another instead. The other six. You can’t save them all.
“Shut up!” Erik shouted aloud. The light from the key pulsed, becoming unstable.
“Erik, focus!” Helena’s voice, sharp. “Don’t lose yourself!”
But it was too late. The darkness had found a crack, a moment of weakness.
It surged forward—not back to Sophie, but toward Erik.
It hit him like a fist. Cold, brutal, invasive.
Erik screamed.
Images flooded his mind. Not his own. Memories of the darkness.
People dying. Hundreds, thousands. Over centuries. Faces twisted in fear, screams that never ended. Blood—so much blood.
And at the center of it all: a figure. A woman. Old—unimaginably old. Her eyes were pitch black, empty as nothingness itself.
The Eldest.
She looked at him. Across centuries, through the darkness, straight into Erik.
“You,” she whispered. Her voice was everywhere and nowhere. “You carry the key. You dare challenge me.”
Erik couldn’t answer. Couldn’t move.
“You will fail,” the Eldest said. “Like all before you. And when you fail, I will take not only the child. I will take you.”
Then she laughed—a sound that echoed inside Erik’s skull, tearing him apart from within.
“Erik!” Someone shook him. “Erik, come back!”
With monumental effort, Erik tore himself free. The vision shattered.
He was back in the living room. On his knees. Thomas was holding him, shaking him.
“Are you with us? Erik?”
“I… I’m here,” Erik gasped. “What happened?”
“You collapsed. The darkness attacked you.” Thomas’s face was pale. “I thought we’d lost you.”
“The baby?” Erik looked toward the circle.
Sophie lay still. Too still.
Mrs. Hartmann was crying, holding her granddaughter, rocking her back and forth.
“No,” Erik whispered. “No, please.”
Helena knelt beside Mrs. Hartmann and placed two fingers on Sophie’s neck. A long, agonizing pause.
Then: “She’s breathing. Weakly, but she’s breathing.”
Relief washed over Erik like a wave.
“The wounds?” Thomas asked.
Helena gently brushed Sophie’s hair aside. The wounds on her neck were… smaller. Not gone, but definitely smaller. The black discoloration had receded.
“It worked,” Helena said in disbelief. “Not completely, but… it worked.”
“What does ‘not completely’ mean?” Mrs. Hartmann asked frantically.
“It means the darkness is still partly inside her,” Thomas said, standing up, looking exhausted. “We’ve pushed it back, slowed it down, but not fully removed it. Sophie is still in danger.”
“What can we do?”
“Repeat the ritual. In a few days, when she’s stronger.” Helena looked at Erik. “And when we are stronger.”
Erik felt hollowed out, as if someone had scraped him out from the inside. The key lay beside him on the floor, the metal cold and lifeless.
“I saw her,” he whispered. “The Eldest. She was in the darkness. She spoke to me.”
Everyone stared at him.
“What did she say?” Helena asked.
“That I’ll fail. That she’ll take me.” Erik looked at his hands; they were shaking uncontrollably. “She knows who I am. She knows about the key.”
“Of course she does,” Marcus said from his post at the window. “She’s the Eldest. She knows everything.”
“Then we’re in danger.” Thomas gathered the ritual tools. “If she knows Erik, she’ll hunt him. Specifically.”
“Let her come,” Erik said. His voice was weaker than he intended. “I’m not afraid of her.”
“You should be,” Helena said quietly. “The Eldest isn’t just any vampire. She’s the source. The primordial mother of darkness. If she truly wants you…” She left the sentence unfinished.
A crash.
Everyone turned toward the front windows.
Marcus stood there, gun drawn. “We have company.”
Outside, on the street, stood figures. Five, six, more. All dressed in black. All motionless. All with glowing eyes.
And at their head: Valentina.
She smiled and gave a mocking wave.
“Time to go,” Marcus said. “Now.”
“The back exit,” Mrs. Hartmann said quickly. “Through the kitchen, into the garden. From there you can—”
“You’re coming with us,” Helena interrupted. “You and Sophie. If they know we were here, you’re no longer safe.”
“But my house—”
“Is just a house.” Helena helped her up. “Your life is more important.”
They ran through the house, into the kitchen. Thomas carried the ritual materials; Marcus covered their rear. Erik stumbled, still weakened by the confrontation with the darkness, but Helena supported him.
The back door. The garden. A tall fence, but with a gate.
They reached the gate. Marcus flung it open—
—and froze.
On the other side stood a figure.
Tall. Male. With dark hair and a face Erik somehow recognized.
The figure smiled. “Hello, sister.”
Helena went pale. “Dimitri.”
The vampire—Helena’s brother—stepped into the light. His eyes were red, but different from the others’. More intelligent. Almost… human.
“You’re running,” he said. “That’s new. The Helena I knew never ran.”
“The Helena you knew is long dead,” Helena said through clenched teeth. She raised her pistol, aimed it at his heart. “Just like you.”
“Am I?” Dimitri looked theatrically at himself. “I feel very much alive.”
“What do you want?”
“To talk. With you. Alone.” His eyes drifted to the others. “But I see you’ve brought friends. And a baby.” His gaze lingered on Sophie, whom Mrs. Hartmann clutched tightly. “A half-turned baby. Interesting.”
“Stay away from her,” Marcus hissed.
“Or what? You’ll shoot me?” Dimitri laughed. “I’ve survived bullets bigger than your gun, hunter.”
“Dimitri,” Helena’s voice broke. “Please. Let us go.”
“Let you go?” Dimitri tilted his head. “But you’ve just done something that makes the Council very angry. You tried to steal one of its gifts.”
“The baby isn’t a gift. It’s a life.”
“To you, perhaps. To us…” Dimitri shrugged. “It’s a resource. A tool. A means to an end.”
“You were once human,” Helena whispered. “You once had a heart.”
“That was forty years ago, sister. A lot has changed.” Dimitri stepped closer. “But maybe… you can remind me. Of who I was.”
“How?”
“Come with me. Alone. Talk to me. And I’ll let your friends go.”
“It’s a trap,” Marcus said immediately.
“Of course it’s a trap,” Dimitri grinned. “But it’s also an offer. The only one you’ll get.”
Helena looked at the others. Then back at her brother.
“All right,” she said. “I’ll come.”
“Helena, no!” Erik grabbed her arm. “You can’t trust him!”
“I know.” Helena smiled sadly. “But I have to try. For all of us.”
She handed Marcus her pistol. Then she walked toward Dimitri.
He extended his hand. She took it.
“See you soon, hunters,” Dimitri said to the others. “Take good care of the baby. We’ll be coming to reclaim it.”
Then they were gone. Just like that. Into the darkness—too fast to follow.
Erik stood there, paralyzed, as the morning sun finally rose over the rooftops.
Helena was gone.
And he had no idea if he would ever see her again.
The next Part in English Language follows on Wednesday, 14th.