Lucious boarded Alexander's private jet as the sun rose above the horizon. At least the weather was on his side, hiding the heinous rays behind the stormy grey clouds.

A beautiful flight attendant swayed her hips in her skin-tight skirt while she led him to his seat. She handed him a smartphone and an envelope with his name on it.

He took the offered items and fell into the leather armchair where he tore off the envelope's side.

"Would you like to feed, Mr Ellwood?" she asked, pulling her ebony locks away from her neck.

His throat went dry, and the ache in his stomach informed him it was empty. I should have finished my beer.

The woman slid onto his lap, extending her neck as an offering. Her spicy perfume invaded his senses. Placing her palms on his shoulders, she drew close until she was a few inches away from his lips.

Using the pad of his thumb to stroke her jugular, he brought the pulsating vein near the surface, causing her to moan and dig her nails into his jacket. Uncomfortable in his seat, he shifted. A silver gleam next to his neck alerted him.

He pushed the girl off, sending her to the ground with a loud thud.

"You should have behaved, Mr Ellwood!" She lunged at him with a syringe in her left hand.

He grasped her wrists, pulling them both above her head.

"Bastard!" she shouted, not stopping her struggle as he jerked the sharp object out of her hand and tossed it away.

The pilot rushed out of the cockpit. "Is something wrong back here?"

Lucious barely contained his bark of laughter when he glanced at the panicked human peering from behind the separation curtain with his mouth agape.

The flight attendant seized Lucious' distraction as an opportunity and kicked him in the crown jewels.

Electrifying agony spread through his lower half as he folded in on himself. Black spots marred his vision while he struggled to retain his standing position. His nostrils flared. Past the pain between his legs, he concentrated on his spiking anger.

The girl scrambled on all fours towards the syringe.

"I guess"—Lucious took a handful of her dark hair and lifted her head to meet his eyes—"I will have that dinner you so kindly offered." He bit into her neck, not caring if he was hurting her.

She screamed and flailed in his arms as he sucked her life blood into him. A rumble escaped his throat. This human tasted of cigarette ash and dirt, ruining her sweetness.

Once he drained her, he tossed her lifeless husk to one side.

"Sir, ar-are you alright?" the pilot asked as he wiped his palms on his black trousers.

Lucious raised a brow at the question. Alexander had a knack for hiring odd employees, some more murderous than the others. "As well as I can be."

The pilot returned to the cockpit with quivering legs, providing Lucious with the peace and quiet he craved.

In the envelope, he found a card with Alexander's cursive handwriting. One sentence in black ink contrasted against the white paper: Look out for the flight attendant.

Lucious pinched the bridge of his nose. His friend sure had a bizarre sense of humour. Exhausted after the ordeal, he closed his eyes. He felt the connection that tugged at his gut. But, for some reason, the further he got from England, the more excited it grew.

Lucious awoke from the loud ringing next to him. The time on the bright screen of his phone told him it was ten minutes past 6 p.m.

He grumbled a greeting and studied his whereabouts. He was in a hotel room, lying on the bed with drawn pink polka dot curtains. It was dark enough for him to have to squint to make out where the door was. The pilot must have brought him here after he drifted off. With the hounds on his trail and the exhausting search for his sire's killer, he had become open for an attack.

"I take it you're still alive," Alexander said.

"Next time you send me a present like that, call me beforehand. There was no time to read your beautiful handwriting during her attempt to kill me."

Alexander laughed. "I didn't send her, but I had my suspicions." His amusement faded. "It's time for you to get up. I have arranged for you to meet the witch."

Lucious slipped into his black leather jacket. "Tell me where and when."

Much of Dublin remained the same. Humans hated change as much as vampires. The more the world morphed into something new, the harder the adjustment came to either race or such was his interpretation.

He stopped at the traffic lights. The ache in his gut resumed, so he attempted to rub it better, but it made no difference. He cursed under his breath and ignored it by looking ahead. A handful of people across the street were staring at him, most of which were women of different ages, but one stood out. Her hazel eyes dissected his soul, and when he forced a smile, she looked away like a guilty thief.

The light changed to green, and he moved closer to where the girl would pass. With her head down, she bumped into him, and he caught her. The moment his hands landed on her shoulders, the pain stopped, and his fingers tingled with alien energy.

What is she?

She assessed him with large eyes. They didn't belong to a well-trained witch he expected to find. This was a girl no older than twenty. There was no way she could possess the power to track him from another country. Then again, she could be part of the local Circle.

The wind blew past, filling his nostrils with her flowery scent, and he knew he was not mistaken.

She tore away from him and hurried past.

The car on his left honked, telling him the lights had changed.

Without further delay, Lucious shadowed her. Innocent or not, she had created a connection he did not need. If the Council reached her first, she could locate him with ease. He couldn't allow that.

The girl glanced over her shoulder occasionally. Her caution didn't bother him. Hiding in the dark was something he grew accustomed to when hunting his prey.

Once she reached a bus stop, she placed her hand on her chest as if trying to calm her heart. There was nothing noteworthy to her. She wore simple clothes: jeans and an anorak. Rushing into a store, she bumped into a burly man. A flurry of apologies stumbled out of her mouth, and she kept her head low. She manoeuvred around the shop to meet with the clerk, handed something over, and ran outside to catch her bus.

Lucious waited for the bus to pass. He entered the busy store, closing in on the clerk with long strides.

A teenager behind the counter asked, "Do you need any help?"

He concentrated on the kid's eyes, and the teen's expression slackened.

"Hand over what the purple-head gave you."

The teen produced a few sheets of stapled paper titled 'CV'.

Sitting on the bench in the nearby park, he skimmed through her resume. She was nineteen—a child. She had given her contact details, but no address—smart girl. He scanned the pages for anything else that could give him an idea of what she was. To his dismay, there was no more useful information, so he saved her phone number.