Bloodsucker

It was dark in the shadows of the streets here, dark in the narrow alleyways between the tall buildings that reached up to scratch the underbelly of the bright, bright sky. That was good. The touch of the sun burned Jiang's skin and hurt his eyes, like tiny hot needles piercing his flesh. The White Watcher was a dangerous thing, as all vampires knew, a vengeful god on its throne in the sky, looking to destroy each and every last child of midnight. Across the seas, back home in Xima, the twisty trees and forests and great mountains offered shade enough, and the constant clouds even more. To venture out under the gaze of the White Watcher for too long was death. Here in the First Union was death. But where there were bloodlings, there was the promise of life. And where there were people and cities, there were deals to be made. Money flowed through major cities like blood through veins. Quite worth the risks of being apart from the mother country, away from the Cradle of Night.

There was business to be done. Jiang dug his umbrella out from his suit jacket and fumbled with the catch. The suit felt strange, dark fabric cut too close to his body. It had to be custom-made for him; a store-bought suit made for a human wouldn't fit a vampire. The trousers were cut short and wide to accommodate broad hips, the sleeves shorter and looser than usual to let the wings fit. The robes that were traditional back home were far more comfortable, but the suits made the humans here on the western continent slightly more at ease with the vampires. Or so the theory went. Jiang had his doubts but the will of the viceroy was not to be questioned.

With a click the black umbrella unfurled, flower-like. The dark shadow it cast was a blessing, cool against his exposed skin and fur. He slipped a pair of dark glasses on, fitting the hooked arms around his large, flappy ears with his clawed fingers. Jiang stepped out into the bustling streets of the city. Cars honked. People rushed by. The sun blazed overhead. Jiang ducked his head down and marched on. Most people gave him a wide berth, intimidated by his dark, hunched form, high shoulders pulled up around his pointed ears. That was alright. Better that then a scuffle on the streets. The viceroy was expecting him.

He lingered at a crossing until the glass bulb suspended over the street turned from glowing red to green. He'd once been told how it worked. It was a process of capturing and channeling Elementary Particles and forcing them to, in this case, glow colors. Jiang never understood the details of it and he didn't care to learn more. Magic was something he saw little of in Xima and cared little for now. His people had always enforced their desires with fang and knife, with whispers in the dark. What need had they of magic?

As if in answer to his thoughts, he saw, as he glanced up, a mage. He cursed in Ximian and tried to pass unnoticed, but that was impossible; his umbrella and clothing made him quite obvious, almost as much as his large ears, blunt nose and dark skin. The mage glanced in his direction and strolled over to block Jiang's way. “What business do you have here?” the mage asked in a loud voice. He was dressed in the typical manner of those in the First Union gifted with magic, in a crisp suit and boots, much like a military uniform, but with a long, flowing cape over his shoulders.

“No business of yours,” Jiang said, glaring at the mage over the rim of his dark glasses. “Please, excuse me.”

The mage bared his white teeth in a scowl and stepped closer, looming over Jiang. People were stopping now, looking on at the mage and vampire. “It is my business, bloodsucker. It's my business if you're lurking around looking for trouble.”

“There will be trouble if you stop me, fashi,” he said. “Let me pass and there will be no trouble.”

“Is that a threat?” the mage growled. Maybe it was a trick of the light, but Jiang swore that he saw the tall man's eyes flash red for a moment.

“No,” Jiang said. “A fact. I wish you nor anyone else here any ill will, so let me pass. I think if I were to be late to my meeting you would find that things might not end well for you.” There was a long silence punctuated by the constant noise of the city. Jiang tensed, his long finger-bones flexing and gripping tight against his arms. But the mage finally grunted something and swept on past, cape flapping behind him. Jiang let out a slow breath in a long hiss and moved on.

It was several minutes later when he finally arrived at the grand house where he was expected. The place was packed in close amongst other buildings, as was common in this part of the city, but its skinny, elegant windows and white paint job set it apart. A well-dressed human at the door admitted him in. Past the threshold, Jiang removed his glasses and closed his umbrella and let his eyes adjust to the change in light. Inside it was dark, lit by dim red lanterns instead of glass bulbs. Inside there were vampires, most dressed in the dark suits common here. They nodded to Jiang when they saw him. One took his umbrella, and the other said, “He is expecting you.” Jiang licked his lips with a forked tongue and walked on, through the richly-decorated halls until he reached the grand double doors that led into the viceroy's study. He knocked, and waited. When he heard an old voice call out to him, he opened the doors, and entered.

Jiang barely got a chance to look at the elderly vampire with his grey hair and long mustachios before falling to the ground in prostration. “Great viceroy,” he began in Ximian, “this humble one begs that you will spare but a moment of your time, that you would be so generous as to grant me an audience.”

There was a moment of silence. “Rise, Jiang,” the viceroy said. Jiang stood, arms straigt at his side, but he did not make eye contact with the viceroy. “You're late, Jiang,” he said.

“A thousand apologies, viceroy. I ran into a mage on the street.”

“Ah.” The viceroy clicked his long teeth. “Damnable fashi always giving us trouble. Well, I have a proposition for you, Jiang.”

“This unworthy one is ready to accept.” The words felt horrible in Jiang's mouth, grease against his teeth.

“We have a new business opportunity,” the viceroy continued. “The northern province of this city is experiencing some disruptions. Police raids on minor gangs. Mages cleaning up the streets, both vigilantes and city-run ones. Pah. I propose, Jiang, that our family organize what businesses there are in the northern sections and drive out the mages. We have enough police on our payroll to make it possible. And I want you, Jiang, to lead this operation.”

“Viceroy, the honor is too great,” Jiang said. “Truly, this humble one does not deserve such.”

“You have proven yourself useful, and so, I have chosen you.” The viceroy waved a clawed hand, long wings and sleeves of robes fluttering around his skinny arms. “Cho will give you further details. You may leave.” Jiang bowed low so that his nose almost touched the rich red carpets and left, walking backwards so that he never turned away from the glorious presence of the viceroy until he was out the doors and it shut behind him. He stood and shuddered. Sycophancy did not suit him. But if there was an opportunity to increase their presence in the city and drive out the mages, well, that was all the better.