I was taken out into the streets once again, to find more food. Layla led the way, and did the killing; I drank what she gave me, until I was full. That golden fire took me once more that night, and again I felt the world sharpen, felt my unliving body fill with the power of stolen life.
    And then we returned to Layla’s quarters – the Den, as she cheerfully called it. It was there, as we sat and talked, that I first began to understand my newfound role, my place in the scheme of things.
    ‘We are hunters’, Layla told me. She sat on the one bed, her legs drawn up beneath her. I sat across from her, on the room’s only chair. We both sat in positions from which we could easily see the door, something I did so naturally, so without thought, that it was some days before the oddness of the action dawned on me. ‘The Curse is bestowed on us by another vampire, though exactly how one is turned from a human to one of us, I do not know. I never met my sire, nor have much interest in doing so.’
    ‘Are all vampires born with no memory of their human life, like me?’ I was curious, that night; too many questions, it seemed, and no time to find answers. I had not yet become accustomed to the idea of immortality, you see.
    ‘Most are, or else with only fragments. The majority of us have no interest, in what was, only in what is. And we’re not born, silly’, she added playfully, ‘We’re sired, given the Dark Gift.’
    ‘Are we demons? Gods? Or just cursed?’
    Her expression became slightly pained. ‘Not just cursed, certainly. We are an entirely different species from human, as different as cat and rat.’ I did not miss the subtext, dim as I was: cat and mouse, vampire and human – predator and prey. ‘Demons? Maybe, though I don’t think so. I’ve seen humans do things that were worse than any vampire. Gods? Perhaps. But, if so, we are fallen ones.’
    ‘But what of this “Dark Gift” you speak of? And how are vampires better than humans? I know we are stronger and faster: I saw that tonight. But what else differs?’
    Layla laughed. ‘Enough questions for now, newby. It’s almost daylight, and you need a nap after all this excitement.’
    I scowled at her. ‘I am not a child. Do not speak to me as such,’
    This served only to amuse her. ‘No child, huh? You’ve been a vampire less than a night, and already you have mastered our racial arrogance.’ She shrugged, and lay down on the bed. ‘Sleep now. Tomorrow I will teach you what you need to know.’
     I glanced around at the Spartan room. ‘Where am I to sleep?’ 
    She opened one eye and looked at me. ‘On the bed, of course.’
    ‘But you are sleeping on the bed.’ Yes, I know it was a foolish thing to say, especially to a (for want of a better term) woman who, as has already been noted, was by no means unattractive. But I was yet scared of this creature who moved like lightning, struck with the force of a thunderstorm, and killed this city’s weaker inhabitants so readily.
    ‘Yes. Is there a problem?’
    I was, in all honesty, dumbstruck. I had only just met her, and I was vaguely aware, from somewhere in the shattered fragments of my past, that there was a proper way of doing things.
    She sighed. ‘Look, youngling, there’s one bed and two of us. So we share, see? Just to sleep, before you bother to ask.’ She grinned, quite deliberately showing her extended fangs. ‘I promise I won’t bite.’
    And so, nervously running my cold, white fingers through my thin, dead hair, I joined her on the bed.

When I once again woke to the world, Layla was gone. Somehow, without opening my eyes, I sensed she was not in the room, just as I sensed that it was once again nighttime.  I rose from my resting place and made my way back to the streets, cautiously entering the back alley that was, for the time being at least, my front drive. I thought what a foolish thing it was to do: I had no idea where my companion was, no knowledge of the city, no thoughts as to what I might do next. And yet…
    If I am to be honest, I was glad to be, once again, on the streets. This, I somehow knew, was my habitat; people – food – was all around me, and I had the natural secret trails and ambush places created by any city. I could soar across the rooftops, or lurk in the dark alleys. Yes, this was a jungle, in which I was the hunter; this was my jungle…
    Michael? Are you awake yet? Layla’s voice. And yet I could not see her, nor had I heard anyone approach. Michael? You must wake up now. 
    ‘I am awake,’ I replied experimentally. ‘Where are you? I can hear you, yet I cannot see you.’
    I am Whispering to you, newby. 
    ‘Then I have better hearing than I thought.’ I looked into the shadows suspiciously, expecting to see her grinning face.
    No, silly. The Whispers are a natural ability of all Vampires. It allows us to communicate with each other over distances, without shouting and alerting our enemies. It is highly useful.
    ‘Where are you?’
    Walk up the alley to your left onto the main street. Go right, and keep on until you find a small alley off to your left. Follow it and you will find me.
    And she was gone. Muttering in frustration, I followed her directions. I saw few people on the streets at that time of night. Those there were kept their heads down, minding their own thoughts and almost running to get home. The streets were brightly lit and well tended, not dark and filthy like the alleys. Lamps shone on top of long pillars, lighting the night against… well, against me and mine, I should imagine. This, I thought, seemed to be some kind of craftsman’s section; signs to the left and right of me proclaimed blacksmiths, carpenters, and stonemasons. 
    I crossed the cobbled road when I saw the alley Layla had indicated, and stepped back into the more comfortable darkness. Refuse was piled against the walls: old crates, broken furniture, uneaten, rotting food. I walked on, trying to see Layla in the shadows. 
    ‘Up here!’ I sought the source of the voice, and found her on a nearby rooftop. ‘Come on up, newby!’ 
    I looked around for a way up. ‘Where is the ladder?’
    ‘Ladder?’ Her face was completely blank.
    ‘Yes, ladder. Or box, or pile of furniture…what do you want me to do?’ Her face was, gradually, beginning to light up with an amused grin. ‘Would you have me climb the wall like a spider, or jump up to the roof like a toad?’
    ‘She laughed. ‘Oh, youngling, you are truly precious. You are a Vampire, you know. You can jump higher and further than any human, and certainly any frog.’ 
    ‘Perhaps, but not up to that roof, surely.’
    ‘Oh yes. How do you think I got up here?’ She sighed theatrically. ‘Just bend your legs, aim for the roof, and push upwards. All it takes is a little effort.’
    Feeling unaccountably foolish, I did as she said. I crouched right down, and angled my body to land on the roof. And then I leapt.
    It was…impossible. No man should have been able to jump that, but then I was no longer a mere man. The power of undeath roared through me, granting a sudden surge of energy to my unliving leg muscles. I rose through the air like an arrow, reached the top of my arc, and started to travel down. Of course, not expecting to actually jump that high, I was unprepared for the sudden requirement of a controlled landing, and therefore hit the roof with all the finesse of – not to put too fine a point on it – a bird skewered on the graceful arrow I had been a few moments before. 
    Layla laughed. ‘Such grace, my Dark Prince!’
    I scowled at her and stood up, brushing myself off.
    ‘Oh, don’t frown,’ she said, ‘it makes you look silly.’ And with that, she turned back to the panorama of the city.
    And oh, what a panorama it was. Meridian, greatest city on the face of Nosgoth, was an impressive sight by day or night. Now, the moon shone down onto the Slums, most decrepit part of the greatest city, and gilded the dirty, tumbledown stone buildings with a pale, silver luminescence. The entire place was like a graveyard: each poorly tended residence was a gravestone or crypt, each pile of discarded refuse the Earth of a freshly occupied grave.
    ‘Welcome to the Slums,’ Layla proclaimed, ‘cess pit of Meridian, and hunters’ paradise.’
    I wrinkled my nose; my hunter’s sense of smell brought me news of human waste, discarded food, and rotting bodies. How my mentor could stand and speak of this place with a sound of almost affection in her voice eluded me – the stench alone was enough to turn my shrivelled, unliving stomach. Yet, I could see why she called it a hunter’s paradise:

Many wise men – that is, humans considered by other humans to be wise – have claimed to know the difference between mortals and vampires: increased strength, speed, heightened senses, cold flesh, a slowing of the heart beat, and the thirst for mortal blood.
    Yet, these supposedly great thinkers have missed out one of the most important differences between our minds: the fundamental and basic variations in the way we think. Humans think about trade, and love, and money, possessions, death, building… all the things they think give their short, dull little lives some meaning – they think like prey. But vampires…

To my new way of thinking, that of the predator, I saw a hunting ground ripe with hidey holes, dark alleys, high roof tops and stealthy sewers; I saw opportunities for ambush, for stalking, and dark places to take my victims until I’d finished…
    ‘Now follow me,’ she said.
    She ran forward and leapt from the roof, her lithe form launching out like a spear to the next rooftop. It was quite some distance, far beyond the reach of a normal person’s jump, but we were Vampires, and she made it with some distance to spare, rolling back to her feet when she got there. I tried to follow her but found it too far for me; I leapt like she did, flattening my body out like a diver’s, but, despite putting as considerable amount of effort into it, I found myself dropping helplessly towards the street below.
    ‘Michael!’ Layla yelled, as the street swept up to engulf me. Seeking only to prevent myself from entering the ground like a thrown spear, I spread my limbs out. More by instinct than by actual intention, I found that I was turning myself in the air; I landed easily, my legs absorbing the impact, my hands coming to rest on the ground to balance me. ‘Are you alright?’ she called down to me.
    ‘I’m fine,’ I replied. I slowly stood up, taking in my surroundings. The street was deserted, darkened alleys leading off at intervals. At one end was some kind of square, a fountain set with three lion’s heads, from which issued streams of water, at its centre. The other end terminated in a three-way junction, with some official looking building looking down the length of my street. 
    A soft, almost silent, thud behind me told me that Layla had joined me on the ground. ‘Hey, Newby, you sure you’re all right?’ She seemed, strangely, genuinely concerned about my welfare. 
    ‘I am fine. I just… fell.’ But why had I fallen, when she had made the jump so easily? Why had my Vampiric strength failed me?
    ‘Don’t worry. Maybe you’re just not a jumper.’ I looked at her quizzically. She took a deep breath and tried to explain: ‘The curse develops differently in each of us. Some become unusually strong or fast, even for vampires, some develop the ability to perform magic, some gain the power to transport themselves to other places, conjure fire, read minds… each vampire is different. You will find your powers, in time.’
    I was about to make some unsuitable, impatient comment – I forget exactly what I had in mind – when the sound of booted feet announced the arrival of several armoured men on the street. 
    ‘What are you doing on the streets so late, citizens?’ One demanded. There were four altogether, all bedecked in identical armour. I shot a questioning look at my companion; face had set into an expression of hatred and rage. ‘Answer me, citizen!’ The guard came closer, then stopped, staring at our faces. For a moment, the world seemed to be frozen, us staring at him, he at us, the other guards looking to him for instructions. 
    Then the moment passed, and he took a deep breath. ‘Vampires! All guards to Settin Street! Vampires!’
    And that, dear child, was my first encounter with the Sarafan.