My Horny Stepmom Turns Me into Her Vampire Slave

Tijuana, Mexico

The five members of the Crimson Requiem sit around a table in a shady bar on the outskirts of the city.

Around them, nearly everyone is talking about the biggest news story of the day: the body of a wanted member of a Colombian cartel had been discovered inside a van just outside Tijuana, decapitated.

Ordinarily, it would have been the sort of story people quickly forgot.

Except that, the week before, twelve other cartel fugitives had been found dead in exactly the same way.

"Damn it, we’ve still got another week before we reach New York..." Dorian grumbles. "What do you say we just abandon the mission and head back to Elyndra? We tell your father we couldn’t find Mia and call it a day."

He directs the suggestion at Blake.

"We’re not doing that. Not even as a joke. Since becoming commander of the Crimson Requiem, I have never failed a mission. I won’t let your laziness stain my record," Constantine cuts in angrily.

"For once, I agree with the old man," Blake says. "My father isn’t known for tolerating failure, and he’d probably come up with some creative way to punish us. We’ll eliminate that brat, recover the damn Divine Artifact, and then enjoy the rest we’ve earned."

"It’s about time. We haven’t set foot on Elyndra in almost five years," Evelyne complains. "At the very least, I expect a full year of paid leave and— hey, what the hell are you staring at? You’re starting to piss me off!"

Evelyne’s irritated gaze locks onto a South American man sitting at a nearby table.

He appears to be in his fifties, exceptionally tall and broad-shouldered, with several scars visible along his arms.

A cigarette hangs from the corner of his mouth as his eyes repeatedly drift between the newspaper in his hands and the table occupied by the five vampires.

"Watch your mouth, little girl," the man hisses.

Evelyne shoots to her feet.

"Why don’t you come outside and say that again if you’ve got the guts?!"

"Sit down and calm yourself. I have absolutely no desire to kick a vampire’s ass today."

Constantine’s expression immediately hardens.

He recognizes at once that the man is human because of his olive-toned skin.

Vampires and humanoid demons are characterized by an immutable pale pink complexion.

What he cannot determine is whether the man is a native of Earth or of N’Raeth.

Without asking permission, the stranger rises from his table and takes a seat at theirs.

"I don’t know how you know who we are, but you’re playing with fire," Dorian warns him.

"Shut your mouth, boy. I was cutting off the heads of your kind before you were even born."

That single sentence erases every doubt in Constantine’s mind.

"So you’re a Monster Slayer, am I right?"

"You are. And unfortunately for you, this is my territory, and vampires aren’t welcome here. You have two hours to leave this city if you don’t want something unpleasant to happen to you."

"H-How dare you speak to us like that, you damned human?! You’ll regret threatening us!" Lazarus snaps.

He lunges forward without warning, throwing a vicious punch at the Monster Slayer.

But the man beats him to it.

Without the slightest change in expression, he drives his own fist straight into Lazarus’s face.

The impact sends Lazarus hurtling into a nearby wall.

He crumples to the floor, his face bruised and bloodied, already beginning to regenerate.

Meanwhile, the Monster Slayer and Constantine continue their conversation as though nothing had happened, with Evelyne’s and Dorian’s threats raging in the background.

"If it puts your mind at ease, we’re only passing through. We were already planning to leave this city shortly."

"I assume you’re heading for the United States."

"That’s not information I’m obligated to share with you."

"You don’t have to. It’s fairly obvious."

The Monster Slayer leans back in his chair.

"There is only one portal in all of South America, and that portal connects Earth to N’Raeth. You’ve crossed an entire continent to reach the northern edge of South America. Therefore, whatever your destination may be, it’s obviously somewhere to the north."

The man pauses briefly, studying Constantine’s reaction.

But Constantine remains completely impassive.

The Monster Slayer resumes speaking.

"Five vampires from a world that isn’t your own. Let me guess — you’re the infamous Crimson Requiem? If that kid over there is any indication of your standards, the reputation surrounding your fearsome strength is nothing more than a legend."

The man pauses again.

This time, he catches the faintest trace of irritation crossing Constantine’s face.

"I knew it. I was right."

A faint smile appears beneath the Monster Slayer’s beard.

"Let me take another guess. There’s only one thing in North America that would interest an assassination squad serving the Vampire King, and that’s Princess Mia Valakys. You’re here to kill her, aren’t you?"

"It’s remarkable that you managed to deduce all that from a single glance."

"We can say it’s my job. One of my many jobs, in fact."

"And now that you know, do you intend to stop us?"

"Quite the opposite. I’ll do everything I can to make things easier for you."

"And why would you do that?"

"You should know that the city of New York — which is your destination, isn’t it? — was wiped off the map. Officially, it was classified as a terrorist attack, but it’s obvious the disaster was connected to Mia’s presence."

He takes a slow drag from his cigarette.

"In the aftermath of that catastrophe, HESPARC fractured into two opposing factions. On one side are those who believe Mia should be protected and granted political asylum as an innocent victim. On the other are those who believe she should be eliminated before another disaster like New York can happen. To be honest, I find myself much closer to the latter camp. I’m more than happy to assist anyone interested in getting rid of that walking catastrophe."

"I’m pleased to hear that. And tell me — how exactly do you intend to help us?"

"I’ll get you into the United States. Believe me, it would be impossible for you to do it on your own. Security across South America isn’t nearly as thorough as it is in North America, Europe, or East Asia. That’s precisely why there’s an entire army of Monster Slayers stationed along the border. Once you’re inside the United States, forget about leaving a trail of bodies behind you and causing the kind of chaos you’ve been creating down here. People up there aren’t nearly as tolerant."

"I see... so you’ve been following us?"

"Ever since you stepped out of the Amazon Rainforest. It’s no coincidence that I’m here. I’ve tracked you all the way to Tijuana using the GPS in one of my men’s vans."

"One of your men...? Since when do Monster Slayers work with criminals?"

"I told you already. I’m not just a Monster Slayer. I supplement my income with other lines of work, but that’s none of your concern. In any case, once you’re in the United States, I’ll arrange for you to be contacted by one of my associates inside HESPARC U.S. I have no idea where Mia Valakys ended up after the New York incident, but he might know something."

The man then signals to a waitress with a wave of his hand.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Santos. What can I get for you?"

"A round of tequila for everyone. Tell your boss it’s on me. I’ll cover whatever they’ve already ordered too."

"Y-Yes, Mr. Santos. I’ll bring it right away."