The dimly lit club buzzed with the pulse of distorted guitars and the scent of stale beer. Patrick leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching the crowd with a mix of disinterest and alertness. His flat cap sat low, hiding most of his eyes, but he could still make out the occasional glance from the vampires lingering near the bar.

He lit a cigarette, letting the smoke curl in the air. “Tonight’s the night,” he muttered to himself, fingers brushing the cold steel of the stake hidden beneath his jacket. With a last drag, he pushed off the wall and walked toward the back alley, knowing his next confrontation was waiting—just like it always was.

“Let’s see what tonight brings,” he said under his breath, heading for the shadows.