The Vampire's Coveted Nectar

*** NIANOR'S POV "Nia?" The familiar voice belonging to my uncle calls out to me, drawing me out of my own little world. I quickly close my book and place it on the small side table with a sigh. Why did Kirnon have to visit me today of all days? I wanted to enjoy a nice night by the fire after just coming back from a tiring mission. I close the lounge door and lean against the door, blocking my uncle's path. The last thing I want is for him to insert himself in my private corner. Kirnon offers me a large smile, showing off his fangs. "Ah, Nianor, there you are. I've been looking for you." I cross my arms over my broad chest and lift my battle-scarred chin as I regard him. "What? You have someone you want me to kill?" I never liked my uncle, Kirnon, but sometimes he has 'jobs' for me, so I keep in contact with him. However, there is a social no-no among vampires to not cut family off, so that would make it messier. Even if it weren't something between vampires, my family would have my head if I attempted to cut away from Kirnon. Family is more important than anything. You always stick with family through thick and thin. I may hate Kirnon, but I love my parents and siblings. My family accepts that I'd rather not get involved with clan politics. They want the Zeanon clan to be on top of all other clans. With the death of the first, oldest vampire ever, my family will not allow me to walk entirely away from my duties due to the tremulous state of vampire society. Everyone wants to be on top now that the first is dead, especially the Zeanon clan. The entire ordeal is tedious and almost pointless to me, but it's important to my family. And my parents were more than thrilled when I became their mercenary. As if it's bad enough that I dislike vampire hierarchy and drama, blending in with humans provides other frustrating and troublesome problems that make being a vampire almost impossible. Honestly, if I could just stay away from everyone, it would save a lot of headaches for everyone. Coming back to my senses, I notice Kirnon's eyes light up. Literally, gold roils, and his pupils constrict and morph into slits. "Why yes! As a matter of fact, I do have someone I want to be killed. I trust this will cover your cost?" He reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out a hefty wad of cash. I snatch the money out of his hands and thumb through the amount. "Who are they?" I ask. My words are rushed as I count the amount. I nearly whistle at the hefty wad of cash. This is more than he's ever paid me before. "Oh, it's honestly no one special-" "They're obviously special enough that you want them dead," I deadpan. Just another reason why I dislike Kirnon. He always beats around the bush instead of getting straight to the point. It's tiresome and gets old quick. Why can't he just spit out what he wants to say? "I want a human dead. Her name is Hemera Kadis, and she works for the Orsova clan. I've heard rumors that her blood allows them to walk in daylight." Kirnon leans in a little as if he's sharing a secret he doesn't want anyone else to know. I can't help but bend in a little upon hearing the reason. A human whose blood allows vampires to walk in the sun? This is something worth looking into! "Why do you want her dead, then? That sounds useful if it's true." I raise a brow and think about handing him the money back. I don't want to kill someone who could allow me to feel the sun on my skin for the first time without it burning. What would that feel like? How warm are the sun's rays? How would the sun feel on my cheeks? I've wanted to know that feeling for my entire life! I can't let this woman die. I need to know! For a moment, I let myself indulge in fantasies of living amid daytime, but my uncle's annoying voice quickly draws me back out to the real world. Sadly, I'm still a nocturnal creature. "What, and risk letting them get their grubby hands back on her? Don't be ridiculous! It's safer to just have her dead and gone. Then they can't farm her blood and gain an advantage. Need I remind you that as a member of the Zeanon clan, it's partly your job to make sure we're the strongest clan in all vampire society?" Kirnon tuts and almost looks as though he's going to wag his finger at me. Thankfully for him, he doesn't. I'd chop the finger off if he did. I may have intended to relax for the night, but I always go around with at least one weapon, usually a small but deadly iron dagger. Sure, steel may be better, but iron is harmful to vampires. Despite the risk to myself, I prefer the effectiveness. I look through the stack of cash and contemplate the job. I've never heard of a human whose blood allows vampires to walk in daylight… to think any of us could feel the sun's rays. I'm not sure it's worth it, at any price... I don't exactly need the money. I have more than enough to survive, considering my father insists I help out at various businesses he's accumulated over the centuries. Clothing brands, tech companies, travel agencies, STEM research centers, whatever catches his fancy he pursues. They are all under different names, but he owns quite a bit of Seattle. But at this point in my life, I am unsure what I would want to do, and this job at least lets me explore somewhat. Sure, I may be centuries old, but what is there to life? Certainly more than being a vampire underground. Certainly more than the assassin's life. But what could I do that would give me the same freedom? Who knows? "If you won't do it, I'll find someone who will. I've gotten quite good at using this modern interweb that's become popular, you know. I could easily access the dark web and hire a human hitman. If you want that embarrassment." Kirnon goads, which, unfortunately for me, works. Now he's just insulting me. I growl low in my throat, and my fangs lengthen at his words. "I'll take the job, uncle. There's no need to insult my skills. However, I do require more than this amount." I wave the cash in the air before tucking it away. If he's going to insult me into doing his dirty work–I still hate myself for falling for it, but my work is a matter of pride–he may as well pay for it. "But that's your standard fee!" he sputters in rage. It's more than the standard fee, but at this point, that hardly matters. I lean in this time and jab my finger at him. "Well, it just went up. Pay it, or I'll leave this human alive. Oh, and by the way, it's called the 'internet,' not the interweb. Unless you want humans to question your antiquated wording, just a little word of advice. Coming from someone who looks to be relatively young, I think it would raise some eyebrows." A muscle in his jaw ticks, but he pulls out his wallet. "Fine," Kirnon spits and hands me a couple hundred dollars more. Obviously, he came prepared to pay more than he let on. Still, this piece of sh*t really pissed me off. I snatch the wallet and take everything out. "Wait-" "Cost of resources, uncle. I gotta research my target, y'know, which takes time and energy. Then there's the matter of actually doing the job..." I hand him back his wallet with a smug grin and pocket the extra amount. "And honestly, I'm doing ya a favor. Do you have any idea how much those human hitmen gouge you for? Far more than what I'm asking. I'll contact you when I have the job done. You may leave now." Don't let the door hit ya on the a*s on the way out, I think to myself. I cross my arms over my chest and watch as he leaves my sight. The b*stard better not steal anything of mine. I know he likes to steal random sh*t for the hell of it. And he's already been eyeing a priceless heirloom my parents brought with them from their home in Africa. It may have been a small piece of their home, but with Africa essentially inhospitable to our kind, it's just not very feasible to stay there, so this is a welcome memory to have with me. As soon as I'm sure he's left, I straighten, catching myself slumping slightly from the exhausting bantering, and head for my library. So much for my relaxing evening. I smile to myself as I push the doors open. One of the upsides to living a long time and collecting a lot of money is having an enchanting library in the comfort of my own home. It's so much better than any public place. I can decorate it as I see fit, and I can escape from the exhausting world and my no-good uncle. I hate those pests. I pull out a chair and bring the computer to life, staring off into space as I wait. Hmm, that painting has been up for the last two decades. Maybe it's time to replace it. I'm sick of looking at that boring snowy landscape that I didn't even like in the first place. It adds too much gloom to the room and makes it feel colder. Perhaps I'll get something bright and colorful, even if it will take away some of the seriousness I take in my job. I shake my head and scold myself for getting distracted. Now is not the time to get distracted with interior decorating. I have a job to do. Still, it seems like such a shame to kill Hemera. I sit down at the computer with a heavy sigh and begin pulling out the resources from my desktop to find everything I need to know about her. Let's see… where should I start? Well, I guess I should find out what she looks like. It doesn't take long for me to find her-it's not like there are many Hemeras in the world-and I find myself enamored with the photos that popped up. I don't think I've ever seen a human with more perfect features...how is it that it seems like her golden hair glows in a DMV photo? They arguably produce the worst photos, and yet... Hemera has long golden hair swept in a simple ponytail with bright golden eyes, framed with thick lashes that sparkle with intelligence. She has several piercings and a tattoo partially obscured by her sunset orange top she wore when she applied for her driver's license. Hemera Kadis, twenty-eight. Born in Seattle, Washington, five feet seven inches. My eyes linger on her freckles and the way they've been splattered on her oval face. I wonder if her hair is as silky as it looks? Ugh, focus, Nia! She's your target. You can't let yourself get distracted. Just focus on your work. Just like you've always done. Even though the reasons for killing her are beyond my comprehension, it's my job. Even if her beauty is making me doubt myself. I shake my head and click away from the photos. Gather intel, Nia.