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London
–Damian Hawthorne–
It was odd, he mused to himself. The feeling of knowing that the surge of anger within him was not entirely personal. Some part of it was definitely instigated by his magic itself, as somehow, his senses recognised vampires and their magic that felt wrong to him on all levels.
Despite knowing that his magic itself was invoking feelings that should not have been as strong as they were now, he could not bring himself to ignore it. As he floated high above, tracking down the now faded scent, he thought of what this meant in terms of his free will and if this seemingly minor disadvantage was worth the numerous other pros of being an upgraded Child of Magic herself, in all the ways that mattered.
Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and let his magical senses sing to him. He usually kept them focused close to avoid any jarring sensory feedback, but to track down the vampire and any other being close by, he expanded them.
His breathing evened out as he slipped into his senses, a magical mental map created in his mind as he catalogued not one, not two, but a dozen vampires, with varying degrees of strength, in just his range alone.
All of them were weak, with their magic flickering as if they were just recently turned, which made sense. No sign of the one who turned them, as they were probably just weak thralls, turned to be used as slaves.
He also sensed a couple of wizards along with two magical dwellings, judging by the minor enchantments on them, but they were not his focus right now. He moved high up in the air, his senses peeled to the max, trying to find a strong vampire signature. Once he found someone that mattered, he could move up the ladder.
Unfortunately, within just an hour of moving about, he found about 50 thralls but no sign of any strong vampiric signature. When he first found the vampiric stench, it had already been evening, and now it was completely dark outside, which is why he found most of the new thralls moving above the surface, instead of scurrying about in the sewers.
He resisted the urge to track them all down and unleash biblical levels of heat, light and overall destruction on them for the crime of existing and violating life and magic on a small scale, because he had still not found the true culprit.
It should not take long, though, since it was now dark outside and the vampires, all of them, despite taking roads that led somewhere, circled around and led in the same direction, as if directed by an invisible entity.
They were probably told to move about erratically to throw off caution and then move in the same direction. Not a great deflection technique, but good enough for thralls since many thralls, when newly turned, were not really great thinkers, with the vampiric hypnosis effect being the strongest, that resulted in minor brain damage that healed over time.
All of that was something he had expected to be hidden behind walls, only to find that there was a book on vampires available for sale to the public. After some light research, he found out why.
Vampires as a whole were a really well known subject in the wizarding world, with an actual organisation that, honest to Merlin, advocated for peaceful integration of vampires in the wizarding world. They actually periodically released information, hoping to educate enough wizards to get legislation passed.
Society for the Tolerance of Vampires. With an office right here in London.
Right now, vampires are classified as magical beings and have some rights, but nowhere near what sentient beings have. Even in his mind, he struggled to come up with something that would help the thralls, since they are overwhelmingly innocent, turned against their will, to be used as slaves by the vampires. The true culprits were the older vampires, alive for centuries, using their powers recklessly without any regard for their own race, bringing their race closer to true extinction with every single crime.
Shaking his head, he floated in the sky, waiting for one of those bastards to show his face. During his last faceoff with a true vampire, he had made the mistake of letting the bastard go, but not this time.
This time, he was ready. Besides, it was not really hard to strike down vampires. Light up the entire area, neutralising some of their shadow abilities, impale them into the ground, then either use a faith enhanced cross, holy silver, holy water, or just keep them pinned in place until the sun itself comes up and burns them permanently.
The thralls were much easier to kill, with light being the easiest way.
His eyes sharpened as his neck snapped to the side, locking onto an area with colourful lights being used as a hoarding.
Seb's, the hoarding read to his enhanced sight as he began flying towards it. A strong vampiric signature, hundreds of times stronger than the thralls had abruptly materialised right outside that pub, as if teleported.
He slowed to a halt as the signature entered the building instead, not even sparing a glance at the sponsors who acted as if this was a regular occurrence. His eyes narrowed as he extended his senses into the building and found no less than 16 thralls in it, placed seemingly randomly.
No wizards, though, and no magical enchantments on the building either. Last he read from the information docket that the Society for the Tolerance of Vampires provided, vampires could not perform magic, not like wizards could.
Being magical beings, they had their own magic, limited in scope but devastating in effect. Hypnosis, high affinity for mental arts, magically sharpened and hardened claws, nails, teeth, fangs, and more, ability to drain victims of their blood. Apparently, the moment their teeth sunk into a victim, they released a potent paralytic, immobilising their victim and putting them at the vampire's mercy.
All of this flashed through his mind in a second, as he flew over it, trying to find a way in. Thankfully, there was a glass window on the roof, with a clear view of the dance floor, which was chock full by now, even though it was not even dinner time.
That was confusing until he realised something. He clicked his tongue as he realised that it was Saturday night, with people coming out in droves to party.
He spotted the vampire immediately. Being this close, he could pinpoint the magical signature. White hair that definitely brought people's attention to him, as he crossed the dance floor and sat himself down at the bar.
Dressed in fully black, with even a trenchcoat for some reason, the man ordered something and sat down, surveying the dance floor. An angular face and a lean build, which was common with all the vampire covens located in Europe, according to public information, anyway.
He resisted the urge to just grab the man before heading to the thralls who continued to move about in his range, some veering out of it before popping right in, as if following a map that he could not see.
Probably ordered to move throughout the city, but remain close by to some place, like this bar. Too bad he did not have the ability to track people, like across a city or something equally absurd like that. Even just tracking people having above a set amount of magic was overwhelming if kept on for extended periods of time.
His eyes narrowed as he looked at a car that stopped just outside the club, two magical signatures that felt weak, as if they were mere thralls but something about them felt off to him, as the driver got off, opened the door as two other similarly dressed vampires stepped out, heading straight into the club.
He looked at the vampire already in and as expected, the man was already looking at the vampires coming in, as if sensing them through the walls.
They were dressed similarly as well, heavy coats, most of the skin covered, whatever was visible was very pale, as they walked straight to the bar.
As they neared the strong vampire already seated, they both removed something from their fingers, likely a magical ring of some sort, because the moment they did, their magical signatures exploded a hundred fold to reach more or less the same level as the vampire at the bar.
The change hit his senses so hard he barely stopped himself from jamming his hands through the glass, the urge to take them out returning with a vengeance. Thankfully, he controlled himself, throwing himself in the air and away from the glass as his mind calmed down.
He could see the other people, non magical as they were, move away or flinch in some cases as the vampires removed the stealth they were under. Despite not being wizards themselves, they probably sense the change in the atmosphere as people began subconsciously moving away from the bar section, with the bartender himself noticing the new entrants but trying to keep to himself, a trait probably created over years of service.
His senses also catalogued the number of thralls in his overall range increasing steadily, likely due to these two vampires. Why has no one noticed dozens of people turning into vampiric thralls all of a sudden?
If not the Ministry of Magic, then at least Kamar Taj should have stepped in. He resolved to ask Corven when he got back, but for now, his eyes noted the three people turning around and sipping on their drinks, with their backs to him.
He couldn't hear anything, and while stealth was an option, he could not risk them sensing him and taking a hostage. Plus, he had an obligation to do this while keeping the non magicals out of it.
Still, he could feel the time passing by, as the number of weaker thralls kept increasing within his range, hovering around this bar. Who knows how many more were outside his range?
Over time, the people inside the club only seemed to increase and still, aside from some truly drunk idiots who couldn't even walk straight, none of the non magicals came close to the bar, something that the bartenders were starting to notice.
He winced as he realised what that meant. They were going to get the vampires out, and it would not be pretty, he could tell that much. He was still waiting on the roof, hidden for now but he had a hunch that the moment he tried something magically taxing, they would know.
If that was a good thing or a bad thing, that remains to be seen.
He moved about the roof, finding a surprisingly wide alleyway right next to the club, with a single weak light that only lit up the giant dumpster located right next to the back entry, with the rest of the alley plunged into darkness.
Perfect.
Double and triple checking his shields, he made sure that he had his dimensional energy to light bombs ready, his form covered in a rather familiar disguise, known as the Giant Killer to the British Ministry of Magic.
Crouching right next to the giant window, he looked down and let his magic loose in a calculated move.
The effect was instant. The vampires all uniformly turned their heads up, their gazes snapping onto his form. Their hands and necks twitched, as he made sure to appear as non threatening as possible, at least magically.
His point made, he turned around and dropped from the roof, into the alleyway, waiting for them to come. In the seconds that it took them to come running out, though, he installed a few goodies that looked nothing like any magical artifact and leaned on one of the walls, the light flickering overhead, struggling to maintain any kind of reasonable illumination in the alleyway.
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