Allure Of The Night-Novel

As the hours in the night continued to pass, the candles melted until they couldn’t burn any more than they already did, while the only light came from the fireplace, where the burning flames of the wooden logs had started to dim.

While Eve continued to sleep in the bed, Vincent sat on the edge of the window. One of his legs folded and rested next to the windowpane, and the other was placed on the ground. He took a drag from the cigarette, where its end burned brightly before ash started to cover it when he blew the smoke. Against the sound of the snow and the wind whistling outside, he noticed a carriage leaving the inn, and after a few seconds, someone screamed in the inn.

The scream woke Eve from her sleep and she sat up in the bed, anxiously looking for Vincent. She saw him wearing his shirt and buttoning it before he walked towards the door. She asked him,

“Did you hear someone scream?”

Vincent gave her a nod and instructed, “Wear your coat. We will be leaving this place soon.” He turned the knob of the door and said, “Stay here and don’t step out.”

“But–“

“Why don’t you get dressed, little girl? Get ready to leave from here and don’t intercept whatever happens,” Vincent offered her a charming smile, and he stepped out of the room.

Eve quickly got out of bed and picked up the clothes she had left earlier to dry.

In the meantime, outside the room, Mr. Briggs stepped out of his room and met Vincent. They heard a commotion on the ground floor, while some muffled sounds came from one of the rooms as if someone was being thrashed.

[Music Recommendation: Wake up – Rage Against the machine]

“Check all the rooms here and I will look at the ground floor,” Vincent ordered, and the coachman quickly bowed and obliged.

“Yes, Master Vincent.”

The scent of blood was heavy in the air and drifted more from the lower ground. When Vincent made his way down the stairs, he felt something slippery on the floor. It was blood, and as he walked, there was more.

“AHH!” The inn’s owner screamed in pain while some sat next to him on the ground.

“How rude, to kill someone who gave you shelter in the inn,” Vincent remarked, and the person who had hurt the inn’s owner’s blood raised his head, while the light from the lantern fell on the predator’s face.

The person was the werewolf who had earlier looked at Eve and said, “My apologies for waking you up from your peaceful slumber. Allow me to put you back to sleep.”

A slight smile appeared on Vincent’s lips and he said, “No need to apologise. My hands have been itching for quite some time since yesterday, and you seem to have created the perfect opportunity.”

The inn’s owner desperately tried to crawl away from the werewolf who had attacked him, while placing his hand on his bleeding neck with a shocked expression. The werewolf’s golden eyes stared at the vampire a few steps away from him and laughed,

“You appear to be more proud than what people speak about,” the werewolf wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve. “Vincent Moriarty.”

Vincent turned extremely pleased and said, “I see you have business with me.”

Footsteps were heard approaching and the other three werewolves appeared in view, their eyes all yellow, while claws grew from the tips of their fingers, ready to tear open the vampire in front of them.

Soon the werewolves attacked Vincent, swiping their claws in the air and one of them came close to scraping Vincent’s face, ready to kill him.

Vincent caught hold of one of the werewolves and threw him to the wooden walls that created a hole.

Outnumbered, one of the werewolves got to Vincent and bit into his hand, ready to tear off his arm. But he caught the werewolf’s hair at the top and used his knee to kick the werewolf’s face. He threw the person through the main door, and the werewolf’s body slid out in the cold. But that didn’t stop the werewolf, and he was back to attack the vampire.

The inn’s owner tried to move and get out of there to call the head of the town, but every time he made an effort, hands, legs or people crashed on or next to him. He didn’t know if there was a feud between the vampire and the werewolves, but if they wanted to, he wanted them to continue fighting outside his inn and not damage his things here!

“Get all the customers here! Kill them all!” The first werewolf commanded the others, and one of them answered,

“Macaw is on it, he should be down in a minute.”

“Let us get this done quickly!” Said another person.

The werewolves had come to the inn two days ago, waiting for Vincent to arrive. They had been keeping a note of where he was, and knowing he had visited Berkshire and would return through this town, they had made all the arrangements.

When one of the werewolves ran towards Vincent to attack him, the pureblooded vampire dodged the attack from not just him but another werewolf and he swiftly caught hold of one of their necks, while swinging his leg in the air and kick another werewolf.

Vincent tore the werewolf’s head off the body, and blood splattered on the ground while a few drops fell on his clothes and face. Touching the blood on his face, he rubbed it between his fingers and said,

“Considering I don’t know you, who are you working for?”

Vincent was aware that just because the puppeteer sent werewolves didn’t have to mean that the person behind was a werewolf and it could be a vampire.

Soon the werewolves, who were in their human form, transformed into werewolves. By appearance, the werewolves only resembled similar to wolves by face, ears, snout, and tail. These werewolves looked ragged and scrawny, standing on their hind legs.

“There was no need to transform if you are shy to talk about it,” Vincent stated, and when one of the werewolves jumped on him, he threw them out of the inn. The other two werewolves growled and snarled while fighting with him and soon they were outside the inn and in the open.

At the top floor, Eve heard the continuous sound of things breaking and, somewhere felt the entire building shake.

Outside Eve’s room and in the corridor, Mr. Briggs caught sight of dead bodies in the rooms which were occupied on the floor. He looked for the culprit who had killed the people, knowing he was somewhere here. He held a silver dagger in his hand, while the other hand held the lantern.

As Vincent and the other three werewolves, who appeared to be nothing less than assassins, had moved out of the inn’s building, it had turned the inn silent.

Not knowing what was going on, Eve picked up her trunk and stood in front of the room door.

The person Briggs was looking for had crawled over the roof of the inn and now was in front of the room’s window Eve was in, without her knowledge.