Chapter 70: Captain of Nothing

I returned to the safe house in Paris with a small bag of groceries in my hand, and the streets were quiet, and the morning was still settling in, but something felt… off, though I didn’t think much of it at first. I got to the door, unlocked it, and stepped inside, and I was expecting noise—metal clanking, low conversations, maybe even arguments, and my two men cleaning, checking weapons, organizing the gun supplies we had found in the safe house, but instead— silence, the kind that immediately tells you something is wrong. I paused just inside the doorway, and my eyes scanned the room slowly, and it was empty, completely empty, with no movement, no voices, no signs of anyone, and my grip on the grocery bag tightened slightly, then I noticed it: a piece of paper on the table, torn, carelessly placed, so I walked over, and each step was heavier than the last, and I picked it up, and my eyes ran across the words. “Captain, we are sorry for what we are about to do… but you can’t really blame us, and this is a losing war, and we were sixteen when we set out on this journey, and we haven’t even met the real vampires we’re after, and we’re already reduced to three, so what can the three of us really accomplish?” I felt something tighten in my chest. “We understand that you are the strongest hunter there is… but we are still at a disadvantage against two pure bloods, so we’ve decided to leave,” and there was a pause. “Goodbye, Sir,” and I stared at the paper for a few seconds longer, then slowly— I crumpled it in my hand, tight, until it was nothing but a ball of frustration, and I threw it into the bin. The room felt even quieter now, heavier, so I walked over to the couch and sat down, leaning back slightly, and the weight of everything pressed down on me at once. From sixteen… to three, and now even that was gone, and just like that— I was alone again. I leaned back on the couch, staring at nothing, and I couldn’t really blame them, not after everything, because we were at a disadvantage, and sending them out there with me… it would’ve been no different from dragging them into a suicide mission, and they made the smart choice, the human choice, so I let out a slow breath. “I guess I’ll have to do this alone,” I muttered, and maybe… that was how it was always meant to end, and I could feel it now, and something wasn’t right anymore, and the strength I used to carry so effortlessly… it was fading, slowly, quietly, like something inside me was being drained piece by piece, and I wasn’t as strong as I used to be, and I wasn’t… invincible anymore, and for the first time in centuries— I felt it, the possibility of death. My hand slipped into my coat pocket, and I pulled out the knife the Iwin sisters had given me, and I removed it from its sheath slowly, and the blade caught the faint light in the room, gleaming with an unnatural sharpness, and it was small, but there was something about it—something ancient, something final, and my eyes dropped to the inscription carved into it. Ikú ń bẹ lọ́wọ́ ẹni, ẹni ń bẹ lọ́wọ́ ikú. Death is in man’s hands… and man is in the hands of death, and I exhaled through my nose. I had really hoped… that one of the kids who followed me—one of the hunters—would turn out to be my successor, someone worthy, someone I could pass this burden to, but now? They were gone, and I was left with nothing, no successor, no plan, no direction, so I stared at the blade for a moment longer… then slid it back into its sheath. “Whatever,” and I stood up, and left the house without looking back, and started walking, and that’s all I’d been doing since I arrived in Paris— walking, searching, hunting shadows. Days had passed, and I still had nothing, no trace of Emmanuel, no sign of Juliet, and I finally found trails of murders they committed… and now they’ve both vanished, like ghosts, untouchable, and my jaw tightened. “Now I’m unable to kill them…” I muttered, then paused. Kill them? Was that even possible? I let out a dry, humorless breath, because I was a hunter, but even I knew the truth: only the Count… had successfully killed members of his own bloodline, and no one else, no one, and it finally made sense, and why the Iwin sisters were done with me, and over four hundred years… and I hadn’t managed to kill a single pure blood, not one. Which was the mission given to me—to put an end to the pure blood vampires, and I’ve failed, but at least… I built something, an empire, legions of hunters spread across the world… even here in Paris, and if only I had met the Dhampir destined to end the vampiric race… maybe things would have been different, but here I am, no army, just a man… walking the streets of Paris. As I walked, something didn’t feel right, a presence, like I was being watched, so I slowed down, then stopped, and turned, and behind me, I saw a man in a brown leather jacket, standing by the sidewalk, making a phone call, and nothing was unusual, at least… that’s what it looked like, so I stared at him for a second, then turned and kept walking. A few steps later, I glanced to my left—across the street, and another man was there, also in a brown leather jacket, walking, and he looked at me, then quickly looked away and turned into another street, and my suspicion grew, so I kept walking, then I turned my head slightly— the first man was still behind me, but now… he was tying his shoe, and I didn’t stop, and I made a sharp turn into an alley, and the air there was colder, quieter, and as I walked toward the exit— I stopped. Men were standing there, all wearing brown leather jackets, blocking the way out, so I slowly turned back, and the man who was tying his shoe… and the one who turned earlier… were now standing behind me, blocking the entrance, and I was surrounded, trapped, but something felt off, and the way they stood, and the way they looked at me, was still, silent, and not a single one of them moved, and I studied their faces, their posture, their presence, and there was no hunger, no darkness, no scent of blood, and they weren’t vampires, so I exhaled slowly. Maybe… they were just trying to rob me. I stepped forward slowly until I was standing right in the middle of the alley, and my eyes moved from one man to another, and no one spoke, and no one moved, and good, so I raised my fists, steady, ready for whoever decided to make the first move. “Bring it on,” I said, and for a split second, nothing happened, then— one of the men blocking the entrance stepped aside slightly, and a third man walked forward from behind them, calm, confident. “No one is bringing anything on, Captain Jonas,” he said, and the moment he said my name— I froze, and slowly… I lowered my fists, and my eyes locked onto his. “How do you know my name?” I asked, and my voice was low, cautious, and the man smiled, not hostile, not mocking, just… knowing. “You’re our pioneer,” he said. “Our founder, and which hunter wouldn’t know your name?” The tension in my body eased slightly, and hunters, and I exhaled quietly, so that was it, not vampires, not enemies, my own kind, and still… I was surprised, so I straightened up a bit, studying him more carefully now. “And how did you find me?” I asked, and he gave a small chuckle. “We’re hunters,” he said. “Finding people is our specialty,” and he tilted his head slightly. “You of all people should know that,” and I nodded slowly, because he was right, and that was one of the first things hunters are taught, and he stepped closer and extended his hand slightly in introduction. “My name is Nicolas,” and I looked at his hand for a brief moment, then back at his face. “Jonas,” I replied, and he nodded, like he already knew. “We have a lot to talk about,” Nicolas said. “Can I take you to our safe house?” I thought about it for a second, then gave a small nod. “Okay,” and the men around us relaxed instantly, stepping aside to clear the way, and we both walked out of the alley, and there it was— a black Mercedes parked right in front, engine still running, and Nicolas walked ahead of me and opened the back door, and I stepped in, and he followed right after. The inside of the Mercedes was quiet, smooth, the kind of silence that came with money and control, and the leather seats were soft, and the air was cool, and everything was polished and untouched—like nothing chaotic ever entered this space, and Nicolas reached into his pocket and brought out a cigarette. “Want one?” he asked, and I took it without a word, and he leaned in slightly and lit it for me, and I took a slow drag, letting the smoke settle before exhaling, then he began. “There have been a series of murders in Paris for the past few weeks,” he said. “All committed by reckless vampires,” and I said nothing. “Judging by how careless they are… how fearless,” he continued, “I don’t think they’re from around here,” and he glanced at me briefly. “And I definitely don’t think they’re lesser vampires,” and that got my attention. “We’ve been watching you for a few days now,” he added. “At first, we were surprised to see you here,” and there was a small pause. “But then we realized… you must be here for them,” and I took another drag. “Now it would appear you’re alone,” he said. “Your two men have left you,” and he shrugged slightly. “Probably for the best, and they looked like rookies,” and his tone didn’t change. “We’re professionals,” then he leaned back, and his eyes settled on me. “And with you by our side… I’m sure we can rid Paris of these creatures,” and a small smile formed on his lips. “So what do you say?” He waited, expecting an obvious answer, and I didn’t respond immediately, and instead, I looked ahead, thinking, because maybe this was it, and maybe one of them… could be my successor, but would the Iwin sisters really choose a French man? I exhaled slowly, and that wasn’t my problem, and all I wanted— was to finish this, and kill the pure bloods, and finally… rest, so I turned my head slightly toward him. “Let’s see what you guys are made of,” I said. “Then I’ll tell you what I think,” and he smiled. “Very well,” and a few moments later, the car came to a stop, and the engine went quiet, and we stepped out— and standing before us… was a mansion. We stepped through the gates and into the compound, and the first thing I noticed— was movement, everywhere, and the compound was massive, stretching far beyond what the exterior suggested, and it was alive with activity, hunters, dozens of them, training, and some were lined up at a shooting range, firing in controlled bursts, and the sharp cracks of gunshots echoed through the air, precise and disciplined, and others were engaged in hand-to-hand combat—pairs circling each other, striking, blocking, throwing each other to the ground with practiced efficiency, and further down, a group was running drills—testing speed, reflexes, coordination, dodging obstacles, vaulting over barriers, moving like a well-oiled machine. This wasn’t amateur work, and this was organized, refined, and as Nicolas and I walked through the compound, the hunters began to notice, and one by one— they stopped, turned, and bowed their heads slightly as we passed, and respect, then, just as quickly, they returned to their training like nothing happened, and I took it all in quietly, impressed, and we reached the main building and stepped inside. The shift was immediate, and the outside was loud, and the inside— focused, busy, and hunters moved through the halls with purpose—carrying weapons, exchanging brief words, heading in and out of rooms without hesitation, but what caught my attention the most— was the portrait, a large one, mounted on the wall, and a French man was standing tall, dressed sharply, but there was something about him…, the way he looked, cold, dangerous, like a man who had done things… and never regretted them, a killer, so I stopped for a brief second, staring at it, and Nicolas noticed. “That’s our late leader,” he said. “He devoted his life… and his wealth… into building this,” and his voice carried respect. “Into improving our band,” and I nodded slightly, then he turned to me. “So,” he said, “Now that you’ve seen what we’re made of…” and there was a small pause. “Will you join us?” I looked around one more time, at the discipline, the structure, the numbers, and this wasn’t just a group, and it was an army, so I turned back to him. “Where do I sign?”