Widow

I tasted the warm blood of my victim on my tongue. For a few minutes I was busy robbing the body of the red liquid before I let go of him to search the pockets of his suit. Quite quickly I found what I was looking for and held the small data carrier in the air.
"Such a waste.", I muttered and pocketed the flash drive, "That suit must have been very expensive."
Then I dumped the body in a nearby dumpster. I sent a text message with the current location to the disposal service and pocketed my phone again. That job was done. For a second, I looked around and let my gaze slide over the windows of the side street. While I was sure that no one had followed us, I still had to make clear that no one had observed this spectacle. Otherwise, I had to take care of it. Thanks to the hat, they wouldn't have been able to see my face, but despite everything, caution was called for.
Although I was willing to take my chances.... It was early spring and already damn warm during the day. Therefore it annoyed me that I was dependent on the UV-rays resistant clothing, but this brought a life as a vampire with itself.
Nearly 180 years ago I was bitten.
I was lured into a trap. That I survived, I owed only to my partner, partner in the sense of detective, as is understood. He had chopped off the vampire's head during the bite.
In the meantime I knew that the virus was transmitted in this way, therefore I attached great importance to really finish a bite. Anything else would only bring further inconvenience, apart from the fact that it was extremely difficult to bring oneself under control during this kind of killing. There had been many complications because of which I had broken my tents in London and moved to New York at the beginning of the modern era.
I patted my pants down and left the alley to go to my black Jaguar parked a few blocks away. I instinctively took a different path than the one I had come in on. Away from the people and cops who were now gawking and holding notepads by the cab. Unquestionably, I had to hurry. As soon as it comes to a scandal, everyone wants to have something to report, if only to land on television. And a man in a cloak and hat is simply conspicuous, even in New York.
Unnoticed, I got in, started the engine and got in line with the other cars.
As a vampire, life was not so easy, but with enough brains you could adapt to it.
As a simple example: being alone.
After the first phase of loneliness and the first thirty years of watching everything age, you then became painfully aware that you no longer belonged in this society. As a rule, after a few more years, you were glad to have your peace from all these narrow-minded idiots.
In front of me a traffic light changed to red.
I braked annoyed and took off my hat to put it next to me on the passenger seat. Thank God I had combed my hair back with some gel this morning. Otherwise my light, black curls would now hang in my face and drive me crazy.

To directly take the wind out of the sails of all stories: Vampires did not sparkle in the sun, like in those absurd movies, Twilight or whatever the garbage was called.
From a certain generation of vampires on, however, the thing about the missing reflection was true, whatever the heck that was. We were immortal, with a few exceptions, and the rumor that we were mostly good-looking was unmistakably due to the fact that we had excellent taste in our charges. With a newborn vampire there was always the creator and the protégé, explains itself. And there were exceptions, as I was one. Cases in which there were unwanted disturbances. Cases when not the victim, but the vampire was killed. These vampires were then creatorless and could freely dispose of themselves, unless they met an very old noble and pureblooded vampire, which was then the exception in the exceptions.
Sun was harmful, but it was not deadly, even if it was hardly bearable on the skin. If you wore only a T-shirt, or a simple shirt, it was very likely that you would pass out within a very short time, in most cases from pain.
Silver injuries were to be avoided. A clean shot with a bullet could not kill us, but it could poison us. And from the poisoning we could then die. Also deadly for vampires were things like axes and chainsaws, or at least anything that could be used to decapitate us.
Wounds to the heart were also not life-threatening. Unless it was a silver injury, these wounds were just like any other: They healed without fuss. After all, it was the brain that controlled the body's functions, not the heart, which stopped beating in our case anyway.
Why didn't it beat?
Not the slightest clue.
So what exactly were we?
Probably some mutation of the human race, triggered by a virus of unknown origin, transmitted in a very strange way.
So, roughly summarized, I had no idea.
And no vampire I had met so far had an answer to this question.
Finally, the traffic light changed again. I stepped on the gas and drove to my apartment. After I got out of the car, I walked briskly through the stairwell, closed the door behind me and lowered the blinds. Then, relieved, I pulled off my cape and threw it over the only armchair in my small living room, as well as my gloves. I pulled off the sunglasses and put them folded up on the dresser under the windowsill.
Then I went into the bathroom, splashed water on my face, and turned my gaze to the mirror, but all I could see was the small window that was on the wall behind me. With a grumble, I dried my face and left the small room.
Since I had nothing to do for the moment, I sat down at my laptop in my bedroom and connected the flash drive I had taken from my victim. A code blocked my access. I rolled my eyes and set about hacking the password.
A few minutes later, I had access to all areas of the flash drive. I didn't usually check items I was supposed to get, but someone had paid me a lot of money to murder some idiot and retrieve important information. Usually there was between three and eight thousand dollars for a murder, depending on the conspicuousness and effort. This job had been advertised at $20,000 and getting this rat out of the way had been worth about $3,500 of that.
From which it can be concluded that $16,500 was just for retrieving this data. That was too much money for a normal job. And if I was paid a tidy sum, then I also wanted to know why and whether this knowledge was rightfully returned to its owner. Sure, morality in a vampire. But it was less morality, more common... common sense, if you could call it that with our species.
I skimmed a few documents quickly. Chemical contents, technical talk about some substances.
Then my gaze lingered on a saved e-mail:
'Everything about the poison and structure of the clan in the BACKS folder. Should you have any questions, you know how to reach me. Please commission the development immediately.'
...Poison?

*CREAK*

I raised my eyes with a frown. Instinctively, I imposed a better security lock, entered a password for it, and let the flash drive disappear into my pants pocket.
"Put your hands behind your head and come out," came the command from my living room.
I turned off the laptop annoyed and put it next to me on the bed.
"I know you're there. I saw you enter the building.", it was a firm female voice.
"Relax.", I braced myself again and stretched for a moment, "Is this normal? Do you skip ringing the doorbell by now and kick the door in instead?", I strolled into the doorway between the bedroom and living room and scrutinized the door panel, which was now on the floor. Then I slowly raised my gaze to the woman.
"Only if the person has something that doesn't belong to him. Give it to me or I will shoot you and take what I need," the woman demanded.
She had chestnut shoulder-length hair and clear dark blue eyes. She was also dressed entirely in black. Now if the material was leather, I'd have to worry that she was about to pull out a whip, but it looked like cotton.
"So, will you?", I smiled. She was going to shoot anyway.
"I have clearance to kill. So yes, if you cause trouble I will shoot.", boldly she shook her hair back into her neck. I raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. She took the safety off the gun. As before, I eyed her silently.
"Last warning," said the woman, narrowing her eyes slightly. I shrugged my shoulders.
"Just give me the stick and I'll leave."
"Stick?", I asked, frowning playfully.
"If you insist on having it that way," the woman fired. The bullet hit me cleanly in the shoulder, piercing it smoothly. I closed my eyes and sucked in a sharp breath of air. I smelled my own blood. My instincts screamed to throw her against the wall and assassinate her.
I pulled myself together and opened my eyes again as the pain of the gunshot wound began to subside. You could see all color drain from her face in seconds. She stared at my shoulder as I noticed the wound closing again. I just smiled silently through the pain, showing my pointed canines.
"Y-you're...!" she quickly took a step back, but fell over a stool and crashed into the mirror on the wall behind her. This immediately shattered. Now I perceived the smell of her blood. My vision became sharper. I could see the veins under her skin and smelled the adrenaline. My mouth watered.
I squinted my eyes and shook my head jerkily. I had just eaten, I should watch my line a little more. When I looked back at the woman, she was about to make a run for it.
"Don't you dare!" my voice was cold and sharp. The woman flinched and stopped.
"Who sent you? And what do you want with that stick?!", I held my breath so that the tantalizing smell of blood wouldn't torment me.
"You seriously think I'm going to talk that easily?" the woman snorted.
"Your boss. Now. Come on sweetheart, I don't have all day," I demanded once again, drawing my own pistol.
"I don't think so..."
I fired and the bullet hit the door panel, just in front of her feet. Splinters flew full force in her direction and she jerked her hands in front of her face.
"I'm going to find out anyway, I'd rather use the time to take a nap, though. So?!"
"Duman." she finally growled.
"Duman?", I inquired, "The one from DAM?", I laughed lightly. I had never dealt with a government agency until now.
"Yes. We were watching the man as well. By the time we went to get the stick, though, he was dead and the stick was gone. But one of our guys tracked you to the car and gave us the info," she told me.
What did she hope to gain by revealing this information? Did she think it would intimidate me if I knew they had information about me? Because I wanted to avoid a confrontation at all costs? I snorted.
"Didn't you check how he died?", I asked, eyeing her skeptically.
"Yes, I did."
"And that didn't surprise you?", I laughed softly, "Heavens, you'd think an agency like DAM would have more foresight."
"There are a lot of psychopaths that hang out in this line of work, you wouldn't be the first.", although she was shaking with tension, I heard the snide tone come out of her voice without a problem. I returned a growl.
This woman had nothing I could use. Even if it made sense to kill her... It would still be wiser to let her live. I wasn't afraid of the DAM, but I didn't want to take the chance to mess with them either. That would be too exhausting.
"Get out of here. And hurry up, or you might end up like all the others who just started bleeding in front of me," I said, pointing to the apartment entrance with a nod. Relieved, she staggered through the doorway and disappeared. Shortly after I had put on a new shirt and just grabbed some new gloves, a scream rang out from the first floor.
I paused and listened.
When nothing was audible, I rolled up my sleeves and picked up the door panel to put it back in place in a makeshift fashion. I examined the hinges and found that they were completely ruined. Quietly, I grumbled a curse and stepped out into the hallway at another angry yelp. Now there was noise on the first floor. Sounds of furniture and flower vases being knocked over.
I looked down through the middle of the stairwell. The woman stood with her back to the stairs, facing several men. With a furrowed brow, I took my pistol, tucked it in the back of my waistband and ran down.
If they had to fight, please don't do it in the hallway. I slowed down on the last landing.
One man was now holding the woman by the hair, a knife resting against her throat.
Another two stood in her immediate vicinity.
The door to the front entrance was also off its hinges and lying on the floor. The sun was reflecting off the white tiles and I had to squint my eyes slightly to avoid being blinded.
"This isn't your pad, get the fuck out of here," I growled, finally walking to the bottom of the stairs.
"Who the fuck are you? Mind your own fucking business. Hurry up, she must have the flash drive somewhere.", the man holding her by the hair said first to me and then to the other two.
"This one?", I pulled the dark stick out of my pants pocket and showed it.
"What are you doing?!" the woman yelped angrily and began to struggle, whereupon the man tightened his grip.BI stopped and provocatively put the flash drive in my back pants pocket.
"Get it yourself.", I said.
"Get him!!!" shouted the man holding the woman. The first man's attack was so easy to fend off that I almost had to laugh. He just ran blindly at me. I tripped him up, rammed my elbow into his back, and he flew to the ground. His head hit the first step with a crack and he stayed down. The second drew a switchblade, let it snap open, and approached with more deliberation. However, I blocked this attack as well and rammed his own knife into the pit of his stomach. Good thing the runner was at the dry cleaners at the moment, you would never have gotten the stains out. I let go of the two idiots and went to the man who was still standing. This one pulled the woman in front of him as a shield.
"The flash drive or she dies!" he now demanded.
"All right, all right, all right," I said, reaching back with my hand to my pants pocket, but taking the handle of my gun.
"Direct exchange, or this thing won't run," I said coldly.
"Fine," he pushed the woman forward a bit, I also took a step forward.
Then he changed his grip to accept the stick. As soon as he became inattentive for a moment, I drew the gun and shot him without batting an eye.
"What an idiot!", I grumbled, securing the gun and putting it away again. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed movement.
The man with the blade in the pit of his stomach had moved and was now holding something in his hand. The remote trigger of a bomb.
Only now I heard the soft beeping, grabbed the woman out of reflex and rushed to the front door.
Unfortunately, a second too late.
The bomb went off and threw us both out the front door with the shock wave. The next thing I knew, my skin was burning like fire. I gritted my teeth, looked at my arm and registered how my veins stood out clearly on my pale, almost white skin. I looked around, searching for shadows. But everything was too far away for me to reach it. I closed my eyes to concentrate.
I couldn't lose consciousness now. If they took the flash drive from me, two months of work would be in vain.
A car drove up. I lifted my eyes strained, but recognized only blurred, bright colors, which seemed to run into each other. Normally I would lose consciousness right away and then wake up again in the evening, but this was critical when I was lying in the middle of the road. The woman had to be a little further away from me. I couldn't see much, but I could still smell her blood. The burning did not subside and was slowly becoming unbearable. A hiss escaped me as I tried to get up to drag myself out of the sun, but my muscles gave away shakily and I had no choice but to lie still.
A car door opened and closed. A man had gotten out. My vision became increasingly blurred and I squinted my eyes a few times to stay awake. The man's shadow had gone to the woman. She was muttering something.
He finally lifted her up and loaded her into his car. But he did not get on yet. He came back to me. It didn't seem as if he wanted to kill me.
From the first movement, I even thought he wanted to feel my pulse, but he grabbed me by the shoulder and tried to lift me up.
"Don't touch me!", I hissed already more asleep than awake.
"Shut the fuck up!" the man retorted.
He helped me up and took me to his car as well. There was not much point in resisting in this state. And as soon as the back door was closed, my eyes fell shut, too.