Chapitre 60: Kara the Vampire Huntress (small changes)
Note: For those who have already read this chapter, I've made a few small changes. Specifically, I adjusted the abilities Illyana is restricted from using. She needs to be able to pass as a vampire, not as a demon.
Kara (POV)
Back in Brooklyn, I found myself in my favorite place: my tech forge. Just earlier that day, I'd wrapped things up at Kamar-Taj. Undoing the mess Shuma-Gorath left behind—or, let's be honest, the mess I caused—was easier than I expected. So, I made the call to leave Kamar-Taj and head home, thinking whether to accept Lady Death's invitation, I could do that at home. Furthermore, work was piling up, and dumping it all on Sarah wasn't exactly fair.
The whir of machinery and the soft glow of computer monitors welcomed me, soothing like a hug after a long day. This was my sanctuary.
"Ah, home sweet lab," I muttered, letting out a satisfied sigh. Just a few hours ago, I'd been juggling mystic to-do lists. Supergirl duties? Yeah, all part of the package.
Sarah was off doing her own thing in Hell's Kitchen, and hanging around with Karen was... unsettling. She had this habit of ogling me like I was some rare artifact she couldn't figure out. Creepy vibes. So, instead of awkwardly dodging her stares, I decided to get back to business.
"Alright, let's handle these Brooklyn vamps," I said, striding over to my sleek workstation. With a quick command to Navi, my AI, a holographic map flared to life on the wall's gunmetal panel. A sharp crimson dot pulsed on the map, hovering near the edge of Brooklyn's layout.
Grinning, I traced my finger across the display, zooming in to reveal the hotspot—a vampire den masquerading as a swanky discotheque. Oh, the irony.
"Thanks, Navi! Looks like it's time to kick some fangy butt!" I said, the thrill of the hunt already setting my heart racing. Hitting one of their dens, they might go underground, but I had my own Daywalker now. Besides, the night was young, and I was ready.
Emerging from my tech forge, I swapped my work clothes for something more fitting for tonight—a crimson summer dress that hugged my figure just right, paired with matching heels. The look screamed classic femme fatale, especially with the cherry-red Gucci handbag slung over my shoulder. I paused at the mirror, applying soft eyeliner, a bold red lip, and just enough blush to complete the transformation. Not too much, not too little. The goal? Blend in while standing out. A huntress in disguise.
Sliding into my silver Audi, I let the engine purr to life, smooth and powerful. The drive wasn't long, but it gave me just enough time to focus. Vampires thrived on predictability, and that predictability made hunting them methodical.
When I parked, the bass from the discotheque hit me immediately, resonating through the air like an electric pulse. As I approached, the music grew louder, the thumping beats vibrating through my chest. I rolled my eyes and, with command, activated a handy bio-tech feature from my nanites, muting the obnoxious noise entirely. It was one of those upgrades I never knew I'd need until moments like this.
The entrance, bathed in flickering neon, opened into chaos. Inside, the strobe lights flashed erratically, cutting through the dimly lit interior. The pounding music mixed with the hum of voices, creating a discordant symphony that should've been overwhelming. But it didn't faze me.
I strolled confidently to the bar, letting my heels click just audibly enough to make an impression, and slid onto a stool. The bartender, a bored-looking guy in a wrinkled shirt and an apron that had seen better days, barely looked up as I ordered.
"A Bloody Mary, please," I said, keeping my tone light but clear enough to rise above the noise.
He slid the drink toward me, a deep red concoction with a stick of celery jutting out like a flag. I took the glass, swirling it lightly under my nose. My computer lenses flickered to life, and the analysis scrolled across my vision in crisp detail.
Alcohol content: 10%. Additional substances: None. Drink integrity: Clean.
Satisfied, I took a sip, letting the tangy tomato, sharp vodka, and fiery Tabasco flavors hit my tongue before downing it in one smooth motion. Refreshing, even if the atmosphere wasn't.
I turned my attention to the dance floor, where the crowd moved in an undulating mass under the pounding beat. My enhanced senses shifted automatically, dialing up the focus as I scanned the room. The strobe lights were disorienting, but they didn't hide much from me.
Activating my x-ray vision, I zeroed in on the dancers. Most of the crowd radiated heat—flushed faces and bodies practically steaming from exertion. But in the center of the writhing throng, a small group stood out. Cool. Too cool.
"Except for a few unlucky souls shoved to the center, it looks like everyone else out there is running a serious fever," I murmured, analyzing the readouts displayed on my computer lenses. The bio-signature overlays confirmed it. Vampires. And none of them were as hot as I imagined—my illusion of hot vamp chicks was officially shattered.
Just as I was about to stand up, the bartender slid another crimson drink my way, his smirk as slimy as his apron.
"Beautiful lady, may I have the honor of offering you a real Bloody Mary?" he purred, his voice dripping with arrogance.
The glass had barely moved an inch when the smell hit me—blood, thick and metallic. My eyes flicked up just in time to catch his not-so-subtle flash of fangs.
I sighed, unimpressed. "Creepy much?"
"Dude, thanks for the offer," I said, leaning forward on the counter slightly as if indulging him. "I know I turn heads, but I'm really not interested." I glanced around the club, noting the crowd and the tension in the air. "But I'll give you this—you've confirmed I came to the right place."
He chuckled, baring his fangs further like they were some VIP pass to impress me. "Oh, beautiful lady, tonight's party is going to be quite thrilling. It will be unforgettable," he said, clearly convinced of his charm.
I rolled my eyes. Tired of his smug arrogance, I moved with lightning speed, grabbing him by the throat before he could even blink. His face twisted into a surprised grin.
"You want to get rough? I like that! Uh—"
I didn't let him finish. My left hand flared to life, superheated black flames igniting around my fingers. Before he could utter another word, his entire body disintegrated into ash, scattering into the air like a bad memory.
"Idiot," I muttered, brushing the ashes off my dress. "A vampire and he couldn't even sense I wasn't human? Amateur hour."
I turned back toward the dance floor, ignoring the faint scent of charred undead in the air. Oblivious to the scene at the bar, the vampires on the dance floor were staring at the ceiling. Their heads tilted back, necks craned like a flock of confused birds. They were fixated on the fire sprinklers, their movements unnervingly synchronized.
The humans, blissfully unaware of the real danger, assumed the vampires were just tweaking on something strong. A few laughed nervously. Others danced harder, trying to shake off the weird vibes.
Then it happened.
With a sudden, sharp hiss, the fire sprinklers erupted. But instead of water, a deluge of thick, red liquid gushed down in torrents, soaking everyone below.
"What the fuck?!"
"This is blood!"
"Ugh... disgusting!"
"Gross!"
The panic was instantaneous. Humans screamed, gagging as the coppery scent hit them. Some tried to run, but the blood-soaked floor turned into a slick trap, sending people slipping and sliding like toddlers on ice.
I watched from my perch, arms crossed, as the chaos unfolded. The vampires were losing their cool, eyes wide with confusion. The humans were too distracted by their nausea to notice their supposed dance partners were barely fazed by the bloody downpour.
The scene was a mess, and it was gloriously bloody and comical.
"Let's see how you handle the real party," I murmured, a grin tugging at the corners of my mouth.
Just as I was about to unleash my attack on the remaining bloodsuckers, the sharp crack of gunfire ripped through the air. Two vampires on the edge of the dance floor disintegrated into ash, their screams cut short. A wave of panic spread across the room like wildfire.
From the stairwell, a figure descended—cool, calculated, and cloaked in black leather from head to toe. Sunglasses obscured his face, but the aura of danger was unmistakable. The vampires froze, their faces twisting in horror as they saw him.
"It's him! Blade! The Daywalker!" they shrieked, their terror palpable.
It was like a switch had been flipped. The laughter, the swagger—everything disappeared, replaced by frantic desperation. They bolted for the exits, only to realize that there were no safe escapes. Blade stood in one direction, and I was right there in the other. The only way out was through us.
As the remaining vampires charged at me, the weak human, Blade stepped forward, his silver sword gleaming in the low light. "You'd better dive out of the way, ma'am," he said, voice steady as stone.
I didn't flinch. I didn't even acknowledge him, just keeping my eyes fixed on the bloodsuckers. Calmly, I extended my arm, and with a quiet command, a pair of hot UV grenades rolled from the shadows at my feet, landing with a soft clink before exploding in a blinding flash of ultraviolet. The vampires shrieked, and their bodies instantly vaporized into ash.
I glanced at Blade, raising an eyebrow. "Swords are a bit cumbersome for a crowd this size," I remarked coolly, nudging him with my elbow. "Big night, gotta maintain efficiency. Ashes to ashes. You handle the paperwork, Blade."
With a final wink, I disappeared into the shadows, vanishing from sight before he could even respond.
Blade stood there for a beat, watching the aftermath, the flicker of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He shrugged, clearly unfazed by my little exit. As eco-conscious creatures (of a sort), the vampires had helpfully combusted into ash upon their demise, leaving no messy cleanup behind.
Moments later, the disoriented survivors stumbled out of the club, covered in blood. Witnessing the sight, bystanders whipped out their phones in a flurry of emergency calls, summoning both police and paramedics.
Police cruisers and ambulances swarmed the scene with sirens wailing. The medical examiner, after a cursory examination of the survivors, reported to the police chief, "The blood on them is human, but not theirs. They're physically unharmed."
"You mean the blood came from other victims?" The chief quickly grasped the situation and motioned for two officers to follow him into the basement, tracking the blood trail.
Entering cautiously, they found the sound system still blaring frantic music, a large pool of blood on the floor, and blood dripping from the ceiling's sprinkler pipes. They exchanged glances and shook their heads, unable to make sense of the scene.
...
Driving back to my Brooklyn brownstone, I leaned back in the driver's seat, glancing at the empty road ahead. My hands were steady on the wheel as I dictated instructions to my AI.
"Navi, start working on an algorithm to track these things based on their unusual body temperature signatures."
"Certainly, miss," Navi responded smoothly, his voice cool and collected.
The minutes ticked by as I kept my focus on the road, but my mind was elsewhere, diving deep into the data analysis. I could feel the weight of it settling in. Something wasn't right here.
As the information scrolled across my screen, my eyes narrowed. "This is bigger than I thought," I muttered, barely aware of the silence in the car. "There are traces of vampire activity all over the globe, except for the US."
I paused, letting the implications sink in.
"It looks like someone's been playing a blinder," I continued, suspicion creeping into my voice. "Someone's been very effective at helping these creatures hide in plain sight."
I scoffed, shaking my head at the absurdity of it all. "Even though they can't stand sunlight, fear silver, and garlic, the allure of immortality would make those drawbacks seem insignificant to many."
The thought of all the vampires scattered around the world, hiding in plain sight, was unnerving. Cleaning up this mess was going to take a hell of a lot more than just a few grenades and swords. I muttered under my breath, "Getting rid of all these vamps is going to be a pain in the ass. Seriously, even cleaning New York will take weeks."
I glanced at the road, deep in thought, tapping a finger on the steering wheel.
"Hmm," I said, the idea forming in my mind, "Instead of going after each one of them, wouldn't it be better to infiltrate their ranks? Take over their power, control them. Steal a page out of Deacon Frost's book... with my own little demon vampire black knight."
The thought of manipulating them from the inside was tempting. With the right connections, I could get to the heart of it all. Control the vampires instead of hunting them down one by one.
...
Illyana knelt before me, armored knee pressed to the ground, her head bowed like I was her one-way ticket to salvation—or damnation. Her voice was steady, but there was an edge of something—anticipation, maybe? "Your Majesty, Queen of the Underworld, your personal guard is here to serve you." She stretched out her black-armored hand, her gauntlet glinting like she was offering her soul on a silver platter.
I stared at her hand, my brain spinning. What the hell was I supposed to do with that level of drama? Before I could untangle my thoughts, Illyana shifted nervously, her eyes darting up to mine. "Is my queen testing my resolve?" Her voice cracked, desperate, like she thought I'd start dishing out punishment.
And then—because apparently, things weren't weird enough—she dispelled her armor in a shimmer of magic, leaving only her clothes. Which, of course, she immediately started peeling off. Her top hit the ground, and yep, she was baring it all.
"Whoa, whoa, WHOA!" I took a big step back, throwing up my hands like I'd just found a grenade with the pin pulled. "Illyana, what the hell are you doing?!"
Her movements froze mid-strip. Confusion clouded her determined expression. "I... I thought—"
"Nope!" I cut her off. "Let's start with not this! I was thinking about your wardrobe, not... whatever this is!"
She straightened awkwardly, fumbling to cover herself as I waved for her to stand. "Get up. And, for the love of everything unholy, keep your shirt on."
Rising to her feet, Illyana tilted her head, her confusion still lingering. "Why are you concerned about my attire, my queen?"
I pinched the bridge of my nose, exhaling slowly. "Because, Illyana, times have changed. You can't just walk around like it's 1942. People might notice... things. And I'm not here to defend your fashion choices to a Starbucks barista."
"I acquired knowledge of this era," she replied, crossing her arms—thankfully, fully clothed again. "Jason's memories taught me much."
I blinked, startled by the name drop. "Jason who? What now?"
Her expression didn't waver. "Jason. A lowlife the lesser you wanted punished. I drained a significant amount of his blood. In doing so, I gained his memories of this time."
I stared at her, struggling to process that. "Wait—you're telling me you can just... download someone's life story by chugging their blood?"
She gave a small, almost smug smile. "Yes, my queen. It's a rare pureblood vampire ability. Not only their memories but also their abilities, though the process is... tedious. Requires a significant amount of blood. And," her lips curled into a wry grin, "humans these days are often... tainted."
That got a chuckle out of me, though my mind was already spinning with the implications. "Huh. Handy, with so many mutants around. A bit messy, though. And I thought my Soul Synchronization was unique." I paused, muttering half to myself, "Forgot you were experimented on by Dracula and Baron Blood during the war. Must've been fun."
"More than you know," she deadpanned, a faint glint in her eyes. "Thanks for giving me a second chance, my queen!"
I shook my head, returning to the point. "Look, Illyana, Jason's memories or not, you're playing catch-up. The world's a whole new beast, and you need to learn how to live in it. Magic's changed, too. I'll teach you some new spells, but you're also going to see this world with your own eyes. Adaptation isn't optional."
Her expression softened, and she bowed her head slightly, a genuine smile flickering across her face. "Yes, my queen. I am ready to follow you."
"By the way," I asked, leaning back against the workbench, "would you feel uncomfortable if I ordered you to kill your own kind?"
Illyana's head tilted slightly, her expression sharpening. "My own kind? If they're anything like the ones from my memories, I'd gladly kill them all. Their existence tarnishes the very meaning of our race."
I couldn't help but smirk at her bluntness. "Didn't expect you to be a bit of a chauvinist," I said, amused.
Her unwavering loyalty made her a perfect fit for the task I had in mind. "I have something for you to do," I said, standing tall. "Every night, go out and hunt vampires who don't follow your race's code of conduct. Use your status as a pureblood to create a clan, and slowly rise to the top."
Her answer came without hesitation. "Yes, my queen."
I folded my arms, studying her reaction. "Would you drink the blood of your kind?"
She hesitated for the first time, then answered with a wry grin. "If they're handsome or beautiful, I would."
"Fair enough," I replied with a chuckle. "Just remember—don't harm innocents. If they're evil, be certain of it before you act. I'll be watching through my eyes."
"Yes, my queen," she repeated, her tone steady as ever.
I glanced at her torn and outdated forties attire, now exposing far too much of her. The sheer impracticality of it made me sigh. "You can't go out looking like that," I said, my tone laced with exasperation.
Reaching into my subspace unit, I pulled out fabric and minerals, letting them float in the air. My fingers moved with practiced precision, weaving magic and material together as I created something suitable for her, Kamar-Taj magic is awesome like that!
Illyana's eyes widened as she watched me work, clearly not expecting her queen to be a tailor—or for magic to be this versatile.
"All done," I said, holding the finished outfit aloft. "Try them on."
She obeyed without question, slipping into the ensemble. The sharp collar of the black jacket accentuated the sleek, open-front design. Golden embroidery added an elegant flair, while the black velvet cloak draped over her shoulders exuded an aura of mystery. The pure black pants, made of a contrasting material, completed the look, transforming her into a commanding, enigmatic knight.
"Not bad, not bad," I said, appraising her from head to toe.
"My queen…" Illyana began, her voice soft and tentative.
"Ugh, that voice of yours," I groaned, smirking. "So alluring and soft. The moment you speak, you go from knight to uniformed temptation."
She lowered her head, the faintest blush dusting her cheeks. Unaware of her own disarming contrast, she murmured, "I'll strive to meet your expectations."
"Not bad, though," I said with a grin. "But we need to complete the look. I'll get you a sword. Your Underworld blade won't do—we don't need the Ancient One sniffing around. Technically, you're more demon than vampire now, so.... Soon, you'll be my white knight on Earth."
Reaching into my subspace unit again, I retrieved a sword this time. The hilt, designed as a circular ring, bore intricate engravings of lions, while the blade itself shimmered faintly, glowing dark red at times due to the runic inscriptions embedded in it.
"Try this," I said, handing her the weapon.
Illyana took it reverently, swinging it with ease. A faint smile played on her lips. "What a fine rapier," she murmured. Then, lowering to one knee again, she declared, "I'm willing to be your sword, my queen. Please, use me."
I nodded approvingly. "The rapier has unique enchantments. Life Drain lets you draw blood from your enemies. Corrosion renders their defenses useless. Shadow Arrows will let you strike from a distance. The enchantments ensure they'll bleed endlessly. "That said," I continued, my tone sharpening, "don't use your Black Knight abilities unless absolutely necessary. The same goes for hellfire—these will immediately reveal your demon status. You need to blend in and pass as a normal vampire. I know you're not as strong out here compared to in the Underworld, and that you sometimes lack courage, but I believe in you. Of course, you can use your pureblood abilities, like blood manipulation and shapeshifting—I have no issue with that. As for shadow manipulation, that's fine too, but try to focus on learning how to wield this rapier properly first." "Yes, my queen. I will try my best," Illyana vowed.
Satisfied, I handed her a bag of blood. "This is your sustenance."
With that, I retreated to my bedroom.
Collapsing onto the bed, I let out a long sigh, exhaustion washing over me. "Dealing with vamps is going to be a pain," I muttered to myself. "So far, the plan's going smoothly. Now, the next few steps are critical."
I closed my eyes, letting my thoughts fade as sleep finally claimed me. "I'm so tired… I need to rest for a bit."
L’AVIS DES CRÉATEURS 
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