Three figures stepped off the train into a wash of neon and noise, the air thick with crime and sorrow—dense enough to make even breathing a task.
They continued down the platform. The tallest of them adjusted his coat and checked his watch, pale white eyes drifting back toward the two boys behind him.
"We've got forty-five minutes until the next train arrives," Cain said. "You boys must be starving."
Velvet glanced back at him and scoffed. "We tried to kill you two days ago. Now you want to feed us, old man? We'll pass."
Violet shoved him lightly. "Speak for yourself," he muttered. "My stomach's not." He glanced ahead at Cain. "You're paying, right?"
Cain wasn't fazed.
"You wouldn't be the first I've fed who tried," he said calmly.
He glanced back at them, pale eyes empty of fear—empty of everything that made a man human.
"And you won't be the last."
He faced forward again.
"For future reference—"
A step.
"—you will fail."
Another step.
"Every. Single. Time."
They followed him without question, as if drawn by something they didn't fully understand.
Velvet's gaze drifted across the street, where a group of men beat another senseless, cigars glowing as they watched like it was nothing. Like it was normal. Maybe it was, he thought.
His eyes tracked back to Cain's back.
His jaw clenched.
Two days earlier—
Velvet and Violet dropped from an oak tree in perfect sync, blades already moving.
For a heartbeat, the world slowed.
Then Cain vanished.
They never saw him move.
A single finger touched each of their foreheads.
The impact came an instant later.
The brothers were launched through the woods in opposite directions, trees splintering, the crash echoing long after their bodies hit the ground.
Two days later—
They turned left and disappeared into a heavy cloud of smoke. Footsteps crowded the street, music pounding from every direction. Violet winced and covered his ears as they pushed through the noise.
Two women drifted toward Cain, smiles sharp and practiced; this is how they made their living.
"Finally," one of them said, eyes lingering on him. "A real man. I'd love to take you home, darling. I'm free for you."
The other laughed softly. "And I'll babysit," she added, glancing at the boys. "They're adorable."
Cain didn't respond. Neither did the brothers. They kept walking, silence answering where words didn't belong.
They turned into a narrow alley, and the city seemed to shut its mouth.
The music faded.
Neon bled out before reaching the shadows, leaving the alley untouched. Darkness pooled where the light refused to go.
Their footsteps echoed now—hollow, solitary.
Laughter followed them into the dark.
Cain stopped.
"I said I wanted to take you home," the voice said, stripped of any warmth, any pretense of kindness. A pause lingered, sharp and deliberate. "Don't you want to come home with… me?"
Heels struck the pavement—two, three, four.
Velvet and Violet turned as one, eyes scanning the shadows, bodies already coiled. Cain remained motionless, silent as stone.
A roar split the air.
Two vampires lunged.
Their charge ended mid-motion. Heads struck the ground first, rolling across the alley. Arms followed, severed cleanly, hitting the pavement a heartbeat later.
Blood washed over the concrete, slick and gleaming, as if the alley itself had been polished by violence.
Cain stepped forward, unbothered, his pace unbroken.
Behind him, Velvet and Violet flicked the blood from their blades in perfect synchronization and fell in behind him without a word.
"Where's the food, old man?" Violet asked, irritation creeping into his voice.
Cain didn't look back.
"Just up ahead," Cain said calmly. "Thirty-four minutes."
"I'm sure we have thirty-nine minutes. Are you such a meathead that you can't count, old fart?" Violet said, tauntingly.
Cain said nothing.
They walked toward the pub, certainly not fit for kids and definitely not a place that looked like it made food worth a damn.
But this was where Cain said they would go, so this was the place—no ifs, ands, or buts. Only—
"Twenty-six minutes," Cain said as they walked in.
The air was intoxicated, just as much as the crowd was. The music rang like a final war cry, only the note was on a nonstop loop.
Violet covered his ears once again, then uncovered them.
A woman eyed Cain and the boys.
Cain slowly turned his head to greet the woman with nothing but his eyes.
The man she was with noticed her gaze, followed it, and ended his journey at Cain.
He grabbed her and said something fueled by aggression—words that had no place in a church, but here seemed perfectly at home.
The music drowned out the vile speech he delivered into her ear.
After that, he walked up to Cain.
The man pointed fiercely at him. "Look at something else, or someone else will be taking care of these kids, you fucking cunt."
Cain stared at the man, then looked back at the woman. Her eyes were lost in his.
He leaned into the man's ear.
"There are moments in our lives that have the power to change what the future looks like for us," Cain said.
The words weren't new.
He had heard them once before, spoken to him, when he was smaller, when the choice hadn't been his to make.
"In these moments, sometimes grace is given, or taken away. I will choose to give you grace just this once," Cain finished.
The man raised his hand to punch Cain in the face.
"You want grace, you son of a bi—" the man said.
The man threw a punch so slow even a snail could have dodged it.
Cain sidestepped and tripped him, sending the man stumbling forward. His mouth struck the edge of the bar table.
"Mmm—my fucking teeth—ahhh, fuck!!" the man screamed, his words muffled.
Cain walked toward the bar with the brothers.
The woman rushed to help the man, but he swatted her away in the background.
"Two steaks and water for the boys," Cain said to the bartender.
The bartender peeped over Cain's shoulder. "Trouble seems to follow you around, huh, mister?" he said slowly.
Cain and the boys looked back at the same time, their eyes landing on the man and the blood staining the floor.
Velvet's eyes glowed for a second; Cain noticed this.
"I don't like trouble," the bartender continued. "So you hurry up, eat, and get."
Cain nodded. He understood.
The food came out shortly after.
The boys ravaged their plates as if they'd never eaten before.
Cain's eyes stayed on the couple.
The woman glanced at him as she tended to the man, helping him to his feet.
Together, they moved toward the exit.
Cain glanced at the boys.
"Time's up. We're leaving now," he said, laying money on the table.
The bartender grabbed it as they headed for the door.
Outside, the neon lights, the noise, the people—the sense of danger all seemed amplified.
Cain scanned the crowd, searching for the woman and the man, and spotted two figures heading south.
He checked his watch.
"Fourteen minutes," Cain said coldly, looking north. "There's something I must do. Go ahead to the train station. If I don't make it on time… leave me."
Cain handed Velvet a piece of paper.
Velvet unfolded it.
Violet hovered over his shoulder, completely unaware of personal space.
The paper was blank.
"Old man…" Velvet said as they