The sun was bleeding out across the sky when Julius slipped behind the wheel of the black sedan. The engine murmured to nature, but the silence inside the car was louder. He drove without headlights, the cracked road beneath his tires disappearing into the dusk. Behind him, the town sat like a hollow carcass a place already swallowed by its own ghosts.
By the time he reached the edge of the ridge, night had begun to pool between the trees. Julius killed the engine and stepped out, the metal door clicking softly behind him. He stood for a moment at the mouth of the forest, adjusting his coat against the creeping chill. Then he began to walk.
The forest didn't hum with crickets or rustle like the ones in old stories. It was still. Watching.
A few meters in, shadows peeled away from the trees. Three men in immaculate black suits stepped forward, their polished shoes sinking soundlessly into the dirt. Their crisp white shirts and silk ties were an insult to the mud and bramble.
"Mr. Julius," one of them said, voice low and clipped, as if carved from ice.
Julius inclined his head slightly. "On time, as always."
Without a word, they fell in around him not walking with him, but escorting him. The deeper they went, the thicker the air became, as though the forest itself bent around the presence ahead.
Then he saw him.
The man stood beneath a naked oak, tall and disturbingly elegant. His hair was iron-grey, but his face… was wrong. Ageless and pale as carved porcelain, with features so perfectly balanced they belonged to something sculpted, not born. The faintest trace of a smile lingered at his lips.
One hand was folded behind his back, the other extended forward with a slow, deliberate grace.
"Julius," the elder of the nightwalkers greeted, voice smooth like velvet over blades. "It's been a while."
Julius closed the distance, clasping the offered hand. It was cold, almost too cold, but steady. "Elias," he said quietly. "You've aged… not at all."
The elder's smile widened a fraction. "And you've learned better lies, good. That will be useful."
Julius forced a breath through his nose. "We have… a situation. Some, well my kids crossed your territory's lines"
Before he could finish, a shadow stepped forward. A tall figure, lean and sharp eyed Kael. The elder's right hand. He didn't speak like a soldier; he spoke like a blade being unsheathed.
"Don't dress it up," Kael interrupted, voice slicing through the quiet. "Your little two daughters and the flies your trainees brought trespassed. That's not a situation, Julius. That's provocation considering they used fire power."
The elder, Elias, didn't look at Kael. He didn't need to. His presence alone quieted the air. "Enough," he said lightly. "Julius knows the line between mistake and insult. Don't you?"
Julius's jaw flexed. "I do. And I've already cleaned the mess."
Elias let out a breath that might have been a chuckle. "No, no. You cleaned your mess. But the Nightwalkers… we clean differently."
Julius stiffened slightly. "Lord Elias"
Elias raised a single, pale finger, silencing him. "I'm not asking for heads. I'm asking for balance. I'll send two of my own the young ones, the kind who've been bored too long. They'll go to Ohio. To the campus your trainees are nesting in."
Julius frowned. "You want to send them? You know what happens when your kind runs free. They're not house pets, Elias. They're"
"Predators?" Elias tilted his head. "Yes. As are yours, Julius. Wolves, tigers, vampires...what's the difference if the leash is long enough?"
Kael stepped forward again, smug in his silence. Julius met his stare, unflinching.
"And if they get bored?" Julius asked softly. "If your youth burn down the house I've built?"
"Then I will rebuild it better," Elias said, his voice smooth but carrying the weight of something relic. "They will not be under your leash. They will move under mine. You will not command them. You will simply… coexist."
The forest seemed to lean in at that word.
It took a long stretch of quiet for Julius to unclench his fists. "Two," he finally muttered. "A boy and a girl. Fine. But don't say I didn't warn you."
Elias's smile was full now, sharp enough to draw blood. "Oh, Julius. Warnings are just songs before the storm besides something good could be gotten from this you know."
The night swallowed their laughter like a secret.
And somewhere, far away, two vampires were already being prepared to walk among wolves.
Julius had barely made it ten paces back toward the car when the forest shifted behind him the subtle, fluid sound of movement that didn't belong to any man or beast.
Two figures emerged from the dark like brush strokes across the night. A boy and a girl no..., young adults, maybe eighteen or nineteen, though their eyes told a different story. The girl moved first: tall, lithe, her black hair perfectly pinned into a braid that shimmered faintly beneath the moonlight. Her companion followed a heartbeat later, his hair neatly combed back, a faint smile fixed in place, his posture too relaxed to be human both a little too pale.
"Mr. Julius," the girl greeted softly, her voice smooth as rippling silk. "We've been told to expect you."
Julius paused mid step. He didn't need to ask who they were. Their presence elegant, precise, and wrong in the way fine glass is wrong in a storm spoke volumes. He took in the subtle stillness between their breaths, the gleam in their eyes too sharp to be mortal.
The boy smiled wider, stepping forward just enough to make Julius tense. "You're quieter than I expected. I thought the infamous Julius would lecture or curse before even saying hello."
"I save both for people," Julius muttered, running a tired hand through his hair. "You two must be the gifts of trouble Elias promised."
"'Gifts' sounds sweet," the girl said, folding her arms. "But yes. You could say we're his…observers..ah no explorers."
Julius exhaled through his nose, the cold air steaming. "Observers, explores, yeah right. Let's get this over with."
He motioned toward the truck parked by the road's edge, the old engine idling like a restless dog. The boy pale, sharp-jawed, impossibly poised opened the passenger door with an amused smirk. "Shotgun," he said lightly.
"Not how this works," Julius grumbled, sliding into the driver's seat. "Back seat. Both of you."
The two exchanged an amused look, then climbed in without protest. The drive back to town was steeped in silence except for the faint hum from the boy, some old tune with too-perfect rhythm, which made Julius' knuckles tighten on the wheel.
By the time they reached the outskirts, the horizon had deepened into violet. Scott and his boys were already waiting at the old print shop that doubled as their forgery den.
The smell of ink and hot metal filled the air. Papers, stamps, and coded IDs lay scattered across the long wooden table.
Scott raised an eyebrow as Julius entered with his new "company." "You didn't say we were expecting models," he muttered, wiping grease from his hands.
"Models don't drink blood," Julius said flatly. "Make them human before sunrise."
The boy let out a chuckle. "How poetic."
Scott's expression soured. "And what are we calling you two?"
The girl's lips curved into a calm smile. "I'll answer to LIRA KELLY."
The boy leaned casually against the counter. "And I suppose I'm Damon Bourne. Keeps it simple."
"Fine," Scott grunted, pulling a stack of blank forms. "Lira and Damon. Birth certificates, university IDs, state papers you'll both be Ohio natives by dawn."
Hours passed in a steady rhythm of stamping, printing, and signing. The machines clattered, ink hissed, and papers were laid out like ritual offerings. Julius stood aside, watching the process with arms crossed, while the two newcomers seemed unbothered, almost amused by the human fuss around them.