Chapter 6: Phone Conversation

After the brief phone conversation, Danica spent her morning in the boxing room ten minute drive from her place. She was alone in the entire hall; it was too early for the day. 

She wore her hair in a tight ponytail and headed to a 200-pound punching bag near the corner. Mirrors covered the walls around, making the hall look more spacious. In a red crop top and black tights, she was leanly muscled, not the curvy type. Walking, she put the boxing gloves on. 

Early this morning, an ambassador of theirs had made a live video statement on the ownership of the mansion. The vampire prince had inherited the mansion when he was born a century and a half ago. The ambassador also cleared the ‘rumors’ about the prince missing in his statement. Reign was not missing, but on vacation instead. He was in Umbre City. 

Then he was the owner, and she invaded his home. Still, was this the reason he wanted to kill her?

It didn’t matter. As much as he was, she was also out for blood. She threw a punch at the bag, which swung. There were times she shocked people with her strength for her slight appearance.

She was not one who was easily overcome in a fight. And yet, last night’s events lingered in her mind. She threw her anger out on the innocent punching bag, which trembled with her hits. The way he straddled her while pushing her down with one hand; he had completely overpowered her. Being a vampire and a prince who should be typically stronger than most common vampires did not make any difference to her.

Sweat covered her body. She wondered what he looked like. Only because she could imagine this bag as him. He was quite tall. Several inches taller than her. He had never shown his face in public. 

Even the vampire king and queen were on the internet, but not him. Why? He must be really insecure about his looks. Although there were a few vampire princes aside from him, Reign Eclipsis was the only son of the monarch. Had something horribly gone wrong with him when he was born? Was that why he had been in the palace for 150 years? 

Guess what! She did not care! She wanted to show him that he did not scare her. And she wanted to punch his face like she was doing to this bag. People started to arrive. It’s time to leave. Her mood wasn’t up for chit-chat.

“Hi, Dani,” a boxer greeted, seeing her heading to the locker room.

“Hi, Mike.”

“Rare to see you in the morning.”

“Yeah.” 

“Is that a vampire bite mark?”

Mike was a regular here. She gave him a non-committal nod to end the conversation.

“How unusual.”

“It’s not actually. We get bitten sometimes.”

Danica wanted to leave, but Mike was now standing right in front of her. 

“I bet the vampire is dead, with your skills. A normal vampire would know better than to bite a hunter.”

This was definitely the type of conversation she wanted to avoid.

“Umm…no.”

“No as in?”

“He’s not dead. Bye-bye, Mike.”

“Oh ok, bye, Dani.”

Danica did not have to wait for long before she was going to receive an answer to one of her questions.

“The Vampire Prince’s Press Conference in His Garden,” Marc read the headline out loud on his phone. They were drinking again at Witch Bones in the evening. These days were slow in business. Only small fish with a little reward on the bounty listing. 

“Two days from now,” he continued. 

She shifted in her seat to lean against the wall. “It’s weird, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “But it’s only us that thinks so. Everyone else feels like he’s pretty much their prince. On social media, streaming services, TV channels, and even this bar, everyone is talking about him.”

To prove his words, the people at the table next to them were loudly debating whether the press conference was fake news.

“Posts with Hashtag Vampire Prince Reigh alone are over two billions during these few hours. I bet he’s ugly since he’s in hiding for this long,” Marc added.

“Couldn’t agree more,” she blurted.

“Strange you agree with me on this.”

“What?” she swung her head to see Marc’s curious blue eyes. The SOB missed nothing. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“Obvious denial. Normally you’d lecture me about how criticizing people’s appearances isn’t inappropriate and blah blah blah. Spill. What’s this about? Come to think of it, what’s that under that bandage?” He nodded his head towards her shoulder, which she had thought was covered by the shirt, but two of the buttons were undone.

“Nothing.” She wasn’t sure why she was lying.

“I’ll let this go.”

Thank God.

“Hey, Marie!” March shouted, looking at the entrance. Oh right, they invited her before they came here. 

Danica turned around. Marie was still looking around blocked by a server in a witchy costume and a man flirting with her. 

Finally, she saw them and headed toward their table. Black hair, brown eyes, and in her mid-30s, Marie had been a hunter since she was 18, which was still later than Danica who had been hunting in secret since she was 14. Nonetheless, ‘she’ had more experience than her, and Danica had always respected her opinions.

With a heavy sigh, Marie settled herself in the seat between them. 

“What’s wrong?” Danica asked.

“Just heard George is dead.” That said, Marie waved at a server. 

“What?!” she exclaimed. Simultaneously, Marc asked, “George who?”

It couldn’t be the George she met yesterday, could it?

“George Miller, tall, brunette,” Marie answered after she ordered her drink to the server.

“That’s him,” Danica pressed her temple, trying to process the information. 

Marc looked still confused.

“Remember what I told you yesterday over the phone? The guy I met at the Bounty Affairs? About the memory lapse?”

“Ohh! Him? Shit.” His eyes widened. 

“How did he die?”

“A shifter killed him. Mark told me.”

“How did he know that?” she questioned.

“He was right there with George when it happened. According to Mark, he had been not in a good shape to go hunting, but he insisted on joining him. Mark was pretty upset. He’s even mumbling he’s going to quit the business.” Marie took the glass handed to her and drank it up.

“He said George stood frozen before the bear shifter, letting him slice his stomach open. Before Mark could finally shoot the shifter down after dealing with another one,” she put the glass down. “He had to see his friend’s insides lying all over the floor, he told me.”

It was so horrible that both she and Marc went speechless. 

“I’m so sorry,” Danica said, echoed by Marc.

“Yeah. Me too.” Marie trailed off. 

“To George,” Marc raised his glass.

“To George.”

“To George.” 

It was not exactly the shifter that killed George, wasn’t it? Danica contemplated over that throughout the rest of her evening with them. She expressed that to both of them about this, but they had different ideas. Besides, they argued it was the issue with George’s memory; not someone else was responsible for that. 

“No offense, dear, but I’ve been a hunter for 18 years. I’ve never heard of anyone who could twist memory this way. Except for the first vampire king who had been dead for like  800 years? Or a thousand years? He was the most powerful being on earth, and he still is. He was a rare phenomenon. ”

Marc nodded in agreement. What Marie just said gave her doubts, but she kept silent.

After that night, Danica spent her time catching goblin thieves throughout the city and sending them to the ORP. Two days later, almost every hunter in the States would go before the Night Mansion, which was now its official name. 

In the garden, at 8 PM, Prince Reign would answer a few questions from the press.

Towards the late afternoon of the day, Danica took her disguise from the closet. She had prepared for this. The type of people who had never taken a step in Block 71 would also join the event: teen and tween girls. Although the latter group was around her age, their environments were different. She was going to camouflage herself with them. 

A blonde wig, an office coat, and a knee-length skirt, stockings, and heels. Lastly a pair of thick-rimmed glasses. She learned how to wear make-up to look different from herself. It’s probably a stupid idea, but there was no chance he would let a hunter into his garden. She sprayed a strong cologne on her to mask her natural scent.

In the end, she stood before the mirror and smiled like a cat. Even Marc would not recognize her. Or her dead parents. Of course not. The second thought was simply stupid.

Well, what did she expect? The crowd filled the entire block soon after she arrived. No cars allowed within the area. Easily tens of thousands of people gathered here. It was not surprising how a good portion of the crowd were vampires. They wore reverent looks when they talked about him. Fear and respect mixed in their voices, mentioning their prince.

Regardless of her emotions in the past days, all she was feeling at the moment was the rising temperature. Summer heat combined with people almost touching shoulder to shoulder. Easily 100 degrees. All races in one place in a situation like this; was an ideal place for assassinations. She felt her weapons strapped on her thighs underneath her skirt.