Finding Blood (City Underdark #1)

The Intruder

Whoever had said that vampires were pretty by nature had never seen Barmond. He might have some decent attributes to him – his long, elegant hands, his blue eyes, and his slim figure, for example - but that didn't save him.

First off, he looked old, older than what a vampire should. When the vast majority of his kind had been plucked at the graceful ages of sixteen to twenty-five, he had been reaped by his sire at thirty-eight. It showed from the wrinkles at the corner of his eyes to the greying of his otherwise red hair. He wouldn't grow any older now that he was undead, but he wouldn't get any younger either.

Second, he was a half-blood. It didn't show at first glance, but those sorts of things were easily guessed. He wasn't as fast and strong as the other vampires and lacked their grace. It was their inhumanity that made vampires so alluring; Barmond just looked like a human that could run really fast.

And third, Barmond had a massive brooding problem. That one he didn't mind. He had a lot to brood about.

For example, the trouble in which his sire had sent him.

When he had been taken in as a vampire, it was on the condition that he would become a half-blood and take care of all the dirty business a vampire was either too nocturnal or too important to do themselves. He had had his reasons to accept that at the time, he really had, but sometimes it was hard to find the motivation to endure this servitude with a smile.

So now he was standing in Gadrel.

Gardel was a coastal city of modest size. The local wonders included the wonderful cathedral, pride and joy of bishop Klinver and the port, a crucial commercial point for the entire land, especially for the capital that sat upstream from the delta. Because of its position, it was of utmost importance for the bishop (and count Varrion, but he wasn't as prominent) to make sure that the city presented a unified front in the face of adversity.

Little known fact: there was a third ruler in Gadrel, and he happened to be the one thanked for the lack of supernatural-related incidents. His name was Ranphoros, but he went by lord Ranphoros among those that knew of his existence. And he didn't carry this title because it had been given to him; it just so happen that 'lord' was what one called an incubus that had reached a certain age.

He also hated vampires.

Of course, that annoyed said vampires to no end (never mind that they were insufferable to anyone that wasn't their close kin, but they liked to think that they should be loved by everyone like they were loved by the mortals on which they preyed). They should leave Gadrel alone since they were in no position to change the status quo. But, of course, the very essence of being a vampire was that one always had too much time to think about things they shouldn't be thinking about; and hence why those supposedly immortal creatures had such a short life expectancy.

Of course, half-blood like Barmond had an even shorter one. No one really cared about that except him. As his sire so gently put it, "It would be ill-suited if you'd happen to live longer than I did. Not many vampiric covens would take you in after my most tragic disappearance."

Which explained why he, a vampire, was sent in a place where there was a high chance he would get a stake to the heart if he was discovered, to spy on a powerful incubus that was probably very happy when left alone. If that didn't make sense, that was normal. Full-blood vampires rarely made sense to Barmond. (Something about him being "too human to understand", or so they said.)

On the plus side, he had pocket money. That didn't happen often.

One good way from stopping vampires from entering a city was to make sure that the gates were closed in the night. At least that stopped fledgelings. Maybe not older vampires that could climb or even fly over the walls... like his sire could do. Barmond didn't have such tools at his disposition.