The Price of Blood

Chapter 5: On The Prowl

Every bounty hunter doing business in the Ilham District knew that if they wanted to keep doing business there, it came at the price of giving a small "donation" to Favian and his gang of bounty hunters at The Wailing Wretch. Victoria knew, however, that he didn't have the balls to dare ask her for a cut of her work unless she took a job directly from him. He and his cronies weren't the most honorable type, but they did good work when it came to killing monsters. By now, word would have spread to him that she was in town, and he'd be more than willing to speak with her about anything he might know regarding the vampire insurgence.

Or so she hoped. Favian tended to charge for his information if he felt it would draw attention from rival gangs.

As The Wailing Wretch came into sight, however, she had a sinking feeling that she'd have a tough time getting anything out of Favian. The entry to the stables had four gruff guards standing outside, and they all immediately demanded that she dismount and show her face. The other four guards standing at the door to the inn huddled closer together, ready to keep anyone or anything from barging in. Victoria did as she was told, pulling back her hood and jumping out of the saddle onto the hard cobblestone street.

"Happy now, boys?" Victoria crossed her arms. It wasn't like Favian to have his lackeys act as bouncers. The recent attacks must have made him immensely paranoid.

"State your business here," One of the men barked. "The boss isn't allowing any strangers to lodge in the inn right now."

"You do know who I am, don't you?" Victoria scowled. "I half expected him to come running down the street when he saw me coming."

"Ain't never seen the likes of you 'round here before, little miss. Forgive me for not taking chances with the undead about."

"Well then, will one of you tell the boss that 'The Witch' is here to see him? Tell him I won't be taking no for an answer, either."

The men all exchanged glances before one of the doormen at the inn stepped inside. Victoria tapped her boot impatiently on the pavement while she stared down the guards at the stable. Even Riven seemed impatient, scuffing his hooves on the street every so often. There was only so much she could do to hold back a hungry stallion his size. Daylight was fading fast. If she didn't get out there to start hunting soon, she'd be losing valuable time out in the streets. She needed information sooner rather than later.

One of the doors on the fourth floor slammed open. A man in a fluffy silver fox-skin robe staggered out onto the balcony to the railing and peered down at her with squinting eyes. After a moment, he let out a sharp laugh before turning to address the guards below him. Typical Favian; already drunk before dinner time. "You fucking idiots. I told you to be on the lookout for this one. That's the Huntress Valerie, don't you know?"

"So she's good to come in?"

"Of course she is, you big dolt. If the Huntress was one of them, there'd be no hope for any of us. We'd already be dead. Get the horse into the stable and, for the love of all that is good in this empire, treat him like royalty. And you-" Favian jabbed a finger in her direction "-get inside, Witch. We got a lot to talk about."

"Coming." Victoria patted Riven's shoulder before handing his reins off to one of the guards at the stable. "Do be careful with him. He'll take a finger or two if you get too close."

The inn was only half as lively as she remembered it being the last time she was there. There were plenty of drunks on the first floor at the bar, but it was practically a ghost town compared to the usual amount of people packed into the place. As the door slammed shut behind her, every single pair of eyes in the building turned to look at her. The bard stopped playing, and the last bit of conversation stopped. She made her way to the spiral staircase leading up to the next floor, ignoring the silent greeting. As she disappeared from sight, the usual ruckus of the bar resumed.