Disclaimer: Vampire Hunter D is the property of its creator, Hideuki Kikuchi. I do not own D or any of the characters related to the novel series.

Warning: This story is rated R for language, violence, adult situations, and sexual content. Reader digression is advised.

For what was chasing him was no mere mortal or half breed mongrel, but something of his own kind.

She landed right in front of him, her massive weapon of death held easily in her delicate, long fingered hands. Strands of golden hair escaped her tight braid and floated along her pearlescent face. Her eyes gleamed like topazes in the moonlight and a satisfied grin split her soft, perfect mouth.

"Why are you hunting me? We are of the same," he said to her in a cajoling voice, beseeching her to stop.

She chuckled as she leveled her rifle at his chest. She fired it at him and there was no way with all of his powers that he could dodge. One moment he was on his feet and the next he was splayed upon the ground with his life leaking around him as he convulsed in horrible pain.

She knelt over him, close enough that he could have touched her if he wished. Instead, he closed his eyes against her blank, ironically amused expression. He heard her husky voice say, "No, I don't destroy anyone's lives. Plus, I don't look like a reject from the 18th century."

He opened his eyes at her strange matter of speech.

Then she grinned at him, "I gotta make a killing somehow."

With that horrible quip, she raised a machete in her capable hands. He closed his eyes again. He heard the blade whistle down through the air as it reached for its killing blow. The next moment he felt a sharp twinge in his neck, and finally, nothing.

She was the prettiest bounty hunter that Sherif Justin Moran had seen. She was tall, athletic but yet curvy enough to be only feminine. She had long golden blond hair that she wore in a tight braid and amber eyes. However, he always found her white skin and slightly pointed ears to be odd.

She threw a head on his desk, still dripping blood.

"I believe that's Lord Rhymer, who has a fifteen million bounty on his head," she said as she leaned against his desk, picking up his letter opener and twirling it between her slender fingers.

Justin grinned at her and replied, "Why, I believe you're right there, little lady. How did you manage to kill him that quickly anyway?"

"With enough high powered ammo, eventually everything dies," she replied with a wicked smile, turning those golden eyes toward him.

He laughed at that as he opened his desk. Inside was a polished ebony box for this occasion. The townspeople and the local landowners had pooled up the reward for Rhymer's death. He handed the box to her. She opened it, inspected it's gleaming gold contents, shut it, and grinned.

"It was nice doing business with you, Sherif," she said as she looked at the other wanted posters in his office.

Justin beamed at her and replied, "The pleasure's all mine, I assure you. That bastard's been trouble ever since he's set up shop here."

"They usually are," she said absently as her eyes locked on one of the posters. Her eyes narrowed and her soft, delicate features turned hard. She leaned closer so she could look at the poster. Justin recognized anger burning in those amber eyes of hers.

He looked over to the poster she was glaring at. It was from Lichpin for a Lady Circe Delarosa, another vampire noble. She was a looker from her poster too: sultry, hooded eyes, a sharp aristocratic profile, high cheek bones, and full, pouting lips. She had curly blood-red hair that she wore pinned upon her head with curls lovingly caressing her face and throat. She was smirking slightly in the painting.

Justin nodded and said, "It's from Lichpin, another noble."

"Thank you, Justin," she said in an odd voice.

He turned back to look at her, but she had disappeared.

He rubbed the back of his neck and stated, "Now that's odd."

Mayor Shannon Montgomery was an attractive woman. She was in her late twenties, petite with shiny dark hair that fell to her shoulders and large, hazel eyes. There was a rather gamine appearance to her, belying her position of power.

However, she was a ball busting bitch of the first degree and was proud of it. She had been the sherif before she had been pushed into being mayor. She missed being the sherif, but that had been before Circe had decided to rule over their town. Then the blood sucking witch had the nerve to abduct her people to use as her playthings.

Well, Shannon was going to have to fight fire with fire.

She was sitting at her desk in her office. It was decorated with various photos of her when she had been the sherif, with shorter hair and holding a rifle almost as tall as she was standing along side various townspeople and her younger brother. There were other photos of Donny, her younger brother, winking and grinning at her. There were also sketches of various things that Donny had lovingly rendered for her.

The dhampire had not sat down. Instead, he was silently studying the photos and the drawings. She was unnerved by his presence, and it wasn't for the fact that he was half vampire. It was because he was tall and beautiful and in the same room as she was.

She made note to have Donny meet D simply so the teen could draw him.

D turned toward her, his face still hidden by his hat. All save those sculptured, sensual pouting lips. He asked, "When did Circe arrive?"

"About four years ago. This actually use to be a nice town, the only real trouble we had was the occasional werewolf, but that was it," Shannon answered wistfully, reminded of a simpler time.

He asked, "When did people start disappearing?"

"As soon as her castle was built, about three years ago," Shannon answered with a frown.

D looked at the window at the sunset. Then he turned back toward her. He asked, "How frequent are the disappearings?"

"About once a week, sometimes twice. We get the bodies back in coffins," Shannon broke off, remembering the last teenage boy that had arrived in a coffin, his thighs marked with bite marks from the vampire.

D studied her intensely and asked, "What else?"

"There are bite marks, along the thighs. Some are older than others, as if she's keeping them alive for a while," Shannon answered sadly, looking away.

D explained, "She is keeping them alive. She can gain more feedings if she keeps them alive for extended periods of time. It also keeps her from taking another villager so soon."

Shannon blanched at this new knowledge as D asked, "Anything else?"

She nodded and answered, "Occasionally they have whip marks along their backs and buttocks."

Shannon regained her composure and said, "I'm offering you ten million just to kill her."

"She's a powerful noble, ten million is an insult to most hunters," D replied.

Shannon stiffened with anger as she spat, "I'm sorry, but that's all I can afford! I'm not a landowner or business woman. I'm the mayor that was a sherif."

D looked at her and stated, "I did not say I was declining your offer. I simply said that it would be an insult to most hunters for a vampire of her caliber. I'm not most hunters though, I accept. Someone should have killed her a long time ago."

"So, you've heard of her then?" Shannon asked as she frowned up at him.

D nodded and answered, "She's testing your town as of now. Once she has realized what she can take from it she will and quickly, leaving your townspeople in ruin."

"Then you're going to kill her?" Shannon asked hopefully.

D looked at her levelly with those strange, silvery-blue eyes of his and answered, "I shall try."

As soon as those three words were out of his mouth, the door to Shannon's office burst open.

Shannon snapped, "Damn it, didn't I tell you that I didn't want to be disturbed?" She looked up at the five people who had suddenly barged into her office.

"Frankly, we don't care," a petite blond dressed in a black leather cat suit purred, tossing back her honey-colored locks. There was a coiled whip at her waist and she supported the white skin and pointed ears of a vampire. She smiled at D, displaying fangs.

She purred, "Ooh, he's a pretty one. I'd fuck him in a minute."

"He's the dhampire hunter, D," one of her companions stated in a soft, melodious voice that was like D's except more sinister. He was tall, almost D's height, with straight platinum blond hair and emerald green eyes. He was dressed in a white silk poet's shirt, black leather pants, and a matching black vest. He had pointed ears as well, but Shannon didn't see fangs.

"This does not bode well; she has hired a hunter." This speaker was tall and willowy, dressed in a dark violet velvet gown. She had long burnished chestnut locks and violet eyes. An amethyst crystal hung around her bosom. She looked human.

"I could take him," the second male of the group growled. He had unruly black hair that hung into an angular, handsome face and lemon yellow eyes. He was dressed less elegantly than the others in trackers' garb.

The last member of the group was silent. She was petite as well, dressed in a flowing red silk shirt fashioned like pajamas and black silk pants. She had raven hair that was coiled into a bun and secured with two chop sticks. She had huge, slanted sloe eyes and exotic features, despite her white skin and pointed ears. She had a more serious expression on her face than the others who had begun to leer at Shannon and D.

They were Circe's minions, the Belle Morte: the little blond vampire with the whip was Anne, the green-eyed man was known simply as Swan and was a dhampire who had embraced his vampiric blood line, the woman in violet was Moira, a very powerful witch; the tracker was a werewolf named Ulric, and the Asian vampire Yin-Xi was a living weapon.

D drew his sword. The blade was long, slender, curved and razor sharp. It gleamed in the room's light like quicksilver.

"Maybe he's overcompensating for something," taunted Ulric, throwing his head back to laugh.

Swan idly placed his hands on Anne's shoulders and sighed, "Pathetic, he's serving humans. He's denying his nature."

"Getting laid would probably help that," Anne chuckled.

Moira warned, "Lady Circe would want him first."

"Well, I could have him after she's done with him then," Anne replied, looking D's elegant form over with hungry sky blue eyes.

D looked over at Shannon and commanded in his soft voice, "Step back."

Shannon stepped back to the far wall, watching with wide eyes as D gripped his sword and faced the Belle Morte.

Swan suggested, "Why don't you join us, D? You're denying yourself, you know that. I was once like you, but now I've seen the light."

Anne turned around and they kissed thoroughly, as if a seven foot tall man with a humongous sword wasn't a threat to them. Once the kiss was finished, Anne smirked at D with contentment. Swan was absently fondling her left breast as he looked at D with those uncanny green eyes.

"You chose the easy way out. I cannot do that," D replied as he prepared to strike.

At the moment he pivoted to cleave Swan's gorgeous head off, the door opened once again.

Shannon's heart stopped at the newcomer.

She managed to find her voice to shout, "Donny, get out of here!"

"Oh, look, food," Ulric spun around and grabbed the teenage boy and lifted him off the ground.

Shannon's heart picked up like a jackhammer as Donny's face, a masculine mirror of her handsome features, turned toward her. He asked in a trembling voice, "Shan?"

Shannon screamed, "Put him down, you fucking flea bag!"

D's sword was hovering inches away from Swan's long throat. The other dhampire smirked in satisfaction. He turned toward the werewolf and said, "Good catch, Ulric."

Ulric growled and Donny asked, "Sis?" His hazel eyes were hopelessly wide in his handsome face.

Ulric chuckled, "Tell your lapdog to withdraw and your whelp won't be transforming during the full moon."

Shannon cried, "You wouldn't change him!"

"Oh yeah I would, just because it would bug you bitch," Ulric replied with a wide, toothy grin. His grip tightened on Donny's throat, causing him to choke. Shannon watched with panic.

Anne looked at Shannon hard and snapped, "You put a bounty on our Lady, you bitch. You withdraw it or we'll start slaughtering your precious little town, leaving you last to watch."

"Leaving you to Lady Circe, and when she tires of you, me," Swan added, looking lazily at the curve of the blade at his neck.

Ulric growled, "Tell your freak to let the bird go and I'll give you your brat."

"D, please," Shannon begged, tears welling in her eyes. She felt so helpless as she watched Ulric hold her precious brother. Donny's eyes were watering as well, tears spilling down his baby round cheeks.

D withdrew, lowering his blade and backing up. There was a grim set to his jaw and his once kissable mouth was set into a hard line. Swan smirked and said, "Ulric, drop the brat."

Ulric tossed Donny as if he were a rag doll toward Shannon. Shannon cried out, automatically reaching out to catch her brother. However, D was faster, catching Donny with ease.

"Sis?" Donny pleaded.

Shannon reached out and took her little brother away from D. She held him tightly, tears spilling against Donny's shoulder. Donny was trembling as he returned the embrace.

Moira stated, "You have twenty four hours to recant the bounty and for the hunter to leave town. If you do not comply, we will make good on our threat."

"See ya later, D," Anne giggled, wiggling her fingers at him coquettishly.

Swan looked Shannon over and said in his lyrical voice, "You are a very attractive woman. I hope we'll meet again."

"Fuck you," Shannon growled, her body ridged with anger.

Swan tilted his head as the others sauntered out of the room. "I would hope so," he replied as he followed him. Only Yin-Xi remained.

She gave D a tiny, respectful bow before following the rest of Belle Morte out.

Shannon looked up at D, who was resheathing his sword. She asked, "Can you kill her?"

"I will try," was his answer. He looked at them and asked, "Is your brother all right?"

Donny nodded and asked, "Are you okay, Shan?"

"I'm fine, baby, I'm fine," Shannon answered, hugging her brother.

Donny looked up at D with a childish grin of worship. "So, my sis hired you to kill that bitch?"

"Donovan!" Shannon chided, "Language."

Donny replied, "She is a bitch. You call her that all the time, why can't I?"

Shannon sighed and ran her fingers through her hair.

D nodded in reply to Donny's question.

Donny's grin brightened as he exclaimed, "Cool! Oh man, look at that sword. That is so awesome! What kinda sword is that?"

D looked over his shoulder at the sword and answered, "A high frequency blade."

"Oh, sweet," Donny said in awe.

D looked at Shannon and stated, "Tell me all you know about Belle Morte."

Shannon nodded, sitting down behind her desk again. Donny sat down beside D, looking up at him reverently. Shannon wondered if Donny would be so worshipful if he knew what D was. However, she began to tell him everything she knew.

"Oh, the Bondage Lady has a pet dhampire."

D was trying to ignore the nasal voice coming from his left hand.

However, the Symbiote living there had other ideas, "I bet that really pisses you off, doesn't it D? And he preys on humans, even better. He's what you're afraid to become, isn't it D?"

"Quiet," D growled softly to the parasite, brushing his left hand against his thigh threateningly. He quickened his pace to the inn that Shannon had reserved a room for him at. She had already apologized for the insults and angry glances that he was going to get.

He had grown use to it in his long and lonely years, but it still stung. He knew that he didn't belong with the humans, but he refused to turn to his father's lineage. He wasn't going to become like Lady Circe or Belle Morte, preying on humans simply because they were weaker.

The Left Hand continued its taunts, "But he's got great taste in women. Did you see how he was sucking that little vampire woman's face? Then he was fondling her right in front of you. Either he's an idiot or has the biggest pair of . . ."

D clinched his left hand into a tight fist, muffling the parasite. He relished the momentary silence as he approached the tiny inn. Piano music was leaking from the inside as well as slightly off-key but enthusiastic singing.

The night breeze blew tendrils of his raven hair around his face. He turned and looked up at the sky. Mainly the moon.

A half moon, I still have some time before it becomes full to deal with Ulric, the dhampire thought as he looked at the silvery sliver in the sky.

He turned back toward the inn and stepped through the swinging doors. The piano skipped a beat and the middle-aged woman singing stopped. All eyes turned toward him as he entered the inn.

D caught whispers of, "It's him, the half breed." "God, he even looks like one of them." "What was Shannon thinking? He's just as bad as that bitch." The worse one was: "Fucking freak. Not good enough for the leeches, so he decides to slum along with the humans."

He held his head up high and loosened his fist. His sensitive hearing caught the parasite gasping for air, but it remained quiet. He strode over to the bar, feeling all the accusing eyes upon him, each like a painful pinprick to his soul.

The middle-aged woman started to sing again, a cheerful, bawdy song that the pianist launched into just a beat behind her. The patrons looked away, back toward their drinks, meals, and card games. D sat himself on a stool, which was harder than it sounded due to his body armor and height.

The bartender, a handsome middle-aged man with greying brown hair and keen blue eyes hidden behind wire framed glasses, looked up at D. He was polishing a pewter tanker in his hands. He was still polishing when he walked to the bar.

"I was hired by Mayor Montgomery," D said in explanation.

The bartender smiled kindly and replied, "Ah yes, you're D, the hunter. I'm Giles Wyndon-Price." He had a cultured accent from the British isles. It had been ages since D had heard the accents from Britain. He had noticed that most of the last names of the people in the city were of British origin and they supported the fair complections despite being housed in a desert.

D nodded in greeting.

Giles continued, "Yes, I already have a room reserved for you. Do you wish to have a bite to eat before you retire tonight? You must be famished from your journey."

"Especially since you killed another one of your horses," the Left Hand chided snidely when D pushed a lock of his wavy hair behind his ear. D placed his left hand against the bar, effectively silencing it.

D did notice that there was no malice in Giles' question, just simple politeness and perhaps even respect. D nodded and replied, "Yes, thank you."

Giles smiled as he put down his tanker. He said, "Yes, good, very well. However, the food isn't the best here, but I do recommend the rabbit stew."

D nodded in agreement.

Giles asked, "Very good, now, would you like something to drink?"

"Yeah, our blood!" crowed a tall, burly man with a wide brimmed hat at the poker tables. He stood up, his brown eyes full of hatred as he looked at D. He pointed at the dhampire and D simply ignored him. He wasn't going to start a fight with a human, especially one this moronic and reeking of whiskey.

Giles glared and the woman singing snapped, "Shut up, Will, before I throw you out. Again."

"Look at him, he looks like a fucking leech," Will growled, swaggering up to D.

D recognized his voice as the one who had said, "Fucking freak. Not good enough for the leeches, so he decides to slum along with the humans."

D ignored him, turning back toward Giles. He answered, "Cider if you have it." Intoxication wasn't a problem for D, but most of what the bartender served disgusted him. Especially beer. He briefly thought of Lelia and wondered how she was able to drink the fowl liquid. And wine reminded D of another more precious fluid, a temptation he constantly fought, despite the fact he did need it. However, pigs' blood was satisfactory in that case.

"Can't you hear out of those bat ears of yours, you son of a bitch?" Will taunted, his warm, fowl breath tickling D's ear.

Giles stated in the insulting politeness that only the English could manage, "I believe he is ignoring you, William. Now, sit back down or I will throw you out myself."

"You won't old man," Will chortled, his unsteady hand going for his pistol at his side.

Giles reached for something under the bar. In a lighting fast movement, he was pointing a rapier at William. He hissed, "Sir, do not insult a man that risks his very life doing something that you cannot do, and does it to bloody protect you, despite the fact you insult and threaten him like the idiotic moron that you are."

Will looked at the sword, grumbled something, and walked back to his seat.

D watched as Giles put back the gleaming sword and asked, "Were you a hunter?"

"Yes, once, a very long time ago, until I threw my leg out. Then I trained other hunters," Giles answered with a fond sadness as he pushed a tankard of cider toward D.

D asked, "What happened to them?"

"They all died, except the last one, who I raised as a daughter," Giles answered with that same bittersweet look in his eyes.

"And her?"

Giles gave D a wiry smile and answered, "She fell in love with a vampire of all things, and he with her. Sort of poetic, in a maudlin sort of way."

He picked up the tankard that he had been polishing and started the process again. He said, "But I do respect what you are doing, and I apologize about William's behavior."

D said nothing. Within moments, a large bowl of rich stew was placed in front of him as well as a loaf of crusty bread. He ate in silence, listening to the blond woman sing off key as the piano player struggled to keep up.

He offered to pay for the meal, but Giles had refused his money, saying that it was on the house. However, D did leave the gold upon the table. As he turned to head up to his room, Giles called out his name. D turned toward him.

"Good luck. Lady Circe is clever and sadistic. She's unlike most nobles and has no goals of power, only pleasure and pain. Her Belle Morte is vicious and deadly, especially Yin-Xi and Anne," Giles warned.

D tilted his head respectfully and in thanks before heading to his room.

Before he opened the door, he sensed two people already in there. One female, one male, one a vampire, and the other was Swan. He had been close enough to the other dhampire to remember his scent that was laced with blood. The only thing that gave away his humanity was that he was warm, unlike a vampire.

D drew his sword and kicked open the door.

Indeed, sitting on his bed was Swan. Lying on her stomach was Anne. She pushed herself up on her arms and rolled over when D entered the room.

Soundlessly, he attacked the two. Swan rolled off the bed and onto his feet with vampiric quickness while Anne fazed from view. D took another lunge at Swan, which caused the white-haired man to stumble.

D brought the blade back up for the killing strike when something hard and sharp wrapped around his neck. With a sudden jerk, he couldn't breathe and he struggled to stay upon his feet. He turned around to see Anne wielding her whip, smirking at him, her fangs indenting her lips. Her innocent blue eyes bled to rich crimson as her pretty face turned into a leering snarl.

He swung his sword to cut the whip, but Anne spun, causing D to spin with her. If he hadn't, the force of the spin would have snapped his neck. He choked for air as her grip around his neck tightened.

Swan dusted himself off as he stood beside Anne. Anne jumped to the side, cracking the whip ever so slightly. The sudden movement jerked D to the ground, nearly strangling him. It also caused him to drop his sword.

"The great D, kinda pathetic, don't you think, Anne?" Swan taunted as he picked up the high frequency blade.

Anne grinned and replied, "But he's still fuckable."

"Love, you wound me," Swan sighed as Anne jerked D back to his feet with the whip.

D grabbed the whip, trying to wench it out of those tiny hands. However, Anne had other ideas. She resisted his grabbing until he was pulling with all of his might, the whip biting into his throat. His vision blurred as his air supply dwindled. Unlike Anne, he needed to breathe.

He ended up sprawled on the floor again. The tiny vampire jerked hard with the whip, strangling him. D fought with the whip as Swan smirked at him. "It'll take him longer to hang than a human, Anne," he explained, green eyes twinkling with mirth.

Anne replied, "I don't want to kill him. Remember, I haven't got to fuck him yet and Lady Circe wants him alive."

"You poor man," Swan sighed, pushing his white hair from his face, "The humans despise you. What was it that moron said? Ah, yes, I remember now, 'Fucking freak. Not good enough for the leeches, so he decides to slum along with the humans.' He was wrong you know. The humans might not accept you, but your father's people will if you just give in."

D's vision was darkening as he glared up at Swan. Anne was distracted, watching her partner. D put his feet on the floor, balled up his fist, and gave her a hard right cross.

The little vampire's head was snapped back. She dropped her whip and D grasped it into his hands. He stood to his full height, cracking the whip experimentally.

His throat hurt from where Anne had tried to strangle him and where the whip cut into his skin. He could smell his blood and that only helped to infuriate him even further. His eyes narrowed dangerously. He could rip them both apart and gain his sword back.

He could bathe in the other half breed's blood and kill his woman in front of him.

Calm down, breathe. Stay focused, don't give into the bloodlust, D thought to himself, regaining his composure.

Instead, he stated, "Swan, my sword. Give it back. Now."

"Impressive, no one can get out of Anne's snare once she has them," Swan said with that infuriating smirk of his.

D cracked the whip. The end impacted against Swan's cheek hard enough to cut to the bone. The other dhampire dabbled the deep cut with his fingers. His eyes widened as he saw the blood. Anne snarled at D.

Swan's fangs lengthened as his eyes bled to crimson. Snarling, the two charged at D. D snapped the whip again, catching Anne's arm. Swan swung the sword at D, who was able to nimbly able to dodge it. Swan took another swing, sloppier than the first.

D dodged it, only to be kicked in the face by Anne. The little vampire tackled him to the ground. D wrestled with her, dodging punches. He grabbed her thick blond hair and yanked back. Her head jerked back and there was a satisfying crack of bone as it did. He shoved her off, letting go of the whip.

She picked it up and stood to her feet. Her neck snapped back into place. Their red eyes gleamed at him as they gashed their fangs. Anne cracked her whip and Swan swung D's sword.

D managed to avoid both blows, rolling on the floor between them. He sprang back on his feet, dodging that deadly whip again. Swan was easier to dodge. The sword was awkward in his hands, as it would be in anyone's hands except D's.

Still, Anne was the problem and he needed a sword to take her out.

He rolled over the bed, just a heartbeat before the whip cracked it. He pushed himself back up to his feet. Left Hand growled, "Quit pussy footing around D and kill the bitch and her boytoy before you get us both killed."

D glared and caught the whip this time. He wound it around his wrist as he had done with Doris years ago. He jerked it, sending her flying against the wall.

However, Swan swung again with the sword. D ducked and let go of the whip. Anne was back up, welding her deadly weapon with her practiced ease.

He noticed that they had backed him into a corner. He frowned as they grinned at him. "That bastard hurt my face. My beautiful face," Swan hissed.

Anne purred, "It'll heal, Swan, trust me."

"But look at me, Anne, I look horrid," Swan whined.

"Anyone tell you that you're really annoying?" a mocking, husky female voice asked from the window.

In the confusion, D hadn't sensed the other vampire. She was dressed in sleek black with long blond hair in a braid. She held an impressive rifle unlike any D had ever seen in her long fingered hands.

"Who the hell are you?" Anne asked.

She shrugged and said, "Two against one, both of you armed none the less, isn't fair odds."

"Oh, great, she's one of the 'good' guys," Swan groused, advancing toward D.

She smirked and replied, "Good, bad, it doesn't matter, I'm the one with the gun."

With that, she aimed and fired her rifle.

Swan's left arm was blown off at the shoulder. Blood sprayed from the wound, splattering Anne as the dhampire screamed. D's sword dropped to the ground along with the mangled limb.

D automatically drew it and was back to his feet.

Anne picked up Swan's arm and grabbed him with her free hand. She looked at the gun toting vampire in the window and snarled. D went after her, but Anne dove through the window, shoving the gun toting vampire out of the way.

Anne took to the air, supporting Swan, who was still screaming in pain.

"Oh, no you don't," the vampire snapped, launching out of the window after them.

D heard voices from downstairs approaching. He looked out the window and jumped out as well. He followed on foot as Anne was chased by the other blond.

"What the hell was that? A vampire with a gun? Has Hell frozen over? That's just not right," Left Hand groused.

For once, D found himself agreeing with the parasite.