Greed was like a starving monster, but the more he fed it, the more it craved.

In a dimly lit warehouse, a group of desperate players gathered around a table and clutched their cards close. Flames danced on the wicks of the candles lit around them, casting a shadowy glow on their hands and drinks. Everyone had their eyes on the stack of plastic pumpkin chips, praying to the Goddesses above to bless them with that fortune.

The air was thick with cigar smoke, tension, and the delightful metallic tang of blood. Vesryn Allidora kept a straight face, not daring to expose any telltale signs of his hand to the others around him. Lady Luck was on his side that night. Vesryn considered himself a seasoned gambler by now and knew just what those fools were thinking.

Perspiration clung to their nervous, foul-smelling bodies. He had played with a few of them before, even nibbled on their necks to quell his bloodthirst. Some of their blood still stained his fangs. That was what he enjoyed most about the underground of Killimourn, how they craved the thrill of being beneath his fangs.

Those blood bags didn't mind sharing their precious necks for him, not when he gave them the intoxicating high of his venom that they desired so much. The alcohol they continued imbibing, the cigars they smoked, and the lines of fairydust sprinkled across the table couldn't compare to it.

The witch beside him twirled a strand of her silk black hair around her finger as she eyed her cards like they'd combust into flames. She then adjusted her pointy black hat. It was a nervous tell he'd picked up from her during their previous games. She had a terrible hand.

All around him, the other four players scrutinized their cards with hopes of outwitting each other. Vesryn wasn't worried at all when it came time to show his hand. He'd been on a winning streak all night long.

When Vesryn laid his cards down with a triumphant smirk, hushed groans filled the stale, smoky room as the other players begrudgingly pushed their pumpkin chips toward him. Vesryn could've called it quits right then and walked out with double the amount of money he'd walked in with.

As long as he left before sunrise, everything would be fine. Vesryn had convinced himself of that countless times before, and tonight was no different. It was a thrilling game of risk and reward, and Vesryn knew he could keep on winning.

Until he lost.

In the blink of an eye, his fortune was snatched right out from under him by that devious witch's hands. The other players watched in amusement, chuckling drunkenly at Vesryn's losses. He had nothing left to bargain for. Not a single coin left to his good name. But did that stop him?

"I'm sure we can work something out, Cordelia." Vesryn flashed them all a charming grin with fangs.

Cordelia scrutinized him from head to toe, as if trying to decide there was something of worth on him. Finally, one of the guys suggested his clothes. That was fine with Vesryn. He bet his coat first, followed by his shirt and trousers until he was perched on the wooden chair in nothing but his white boxers checkered with bats. That earned him a lot of snickers.

"Ves, man. You gotta know when to stop." Mikey scratched at his white beard before downing his third beer.

"He still has his underwear, doesn't he?" The witch sneered. "It'll just be a cold flight home for him."

Vesryn glared at her. "Oh, I'll have more than that to take home. Just you wait."

More cards were dealt. Vesryn was confident he'd win that round, but he did not.

Unfortunately, Vesryn's luck had run out and he was forced to strip out of his boxers and sit stark naked amid the table of laughing drunks. Thankfully, cold temperatures weren't bothersome to vampires but the chilly draft between his legs wasn't very pleasant.

"Poor Ves, luck was not with you tonight," Cordelia cackled. "Let me make you another deal. One more round and you can win everything back. However, if you lose, I get to take three of your fingers."

The guys exchanged uneasy looks, not seeming too keen on the idea of winning those. At least with his clothes, they could sell them or trade them at the town's market.

"Which fingers?' Vesryn asked.

"Whichever ones you're willing to part with." Cordelia smirked. "They're delicious to use for stew."

Some of the guys grew as green as frogs, the lumps in their nauseated throats only furthering that image, and decided it was the perfect time to head home for the night. The morbid fellas stuck around to see how everything unfolded.

"Deal, I'm in." Vesryn didn't even hesitate.

As the cards were dealt again, the remaining players leaned in, eager to see who held the winning hand. Vesryn swore he'd be soaring on the wings of luck when he laid his cards on the table and reclined his bare ass back with a smirk, knowing he had finally outwit the witch.

Until she showed her winning hand.

Vesryn cursed the Goddesses above.

A deal was a deal, so he accepted his fate as he planted his left hand flat on the table. Cordelia yanked out a meat cleaver from her giant purse of wonders, causing the remaining guys around them to flinch back. How in the devil she fit that in there along with all kinds of other unsavory goodies was beyond Vesryn.

She taunted him with the sharp end of the cleaver, trailing it across each finger as if deciding which to pick. Vesryn remained still, knowing the witch loved to inflict pain on her victims, but he wouldn't give her the satisfaction of that. When she drew the cleaver up and swung down on his index finger, Vesryn didn't even flinch.

Blood splattered the wooden table and gushed from the numb stub. The witch cackled before doing the same for his next finger, and finally, the last one. Yet Vesryn just sat there with a bored expression on his face. After she had finished, Vesryn conjured up a green handkerchief with his unbloodied hand to cradle his stubs so he didn't bleed all over the place.

One of the morbid fellas who stuck around had turned his head to wretch across the floor. Meanwhile, the witch happily stuffed his fingers into a plastic bag then wedged them down into her purse like little trophies. Vampires could withstand a lot of pain, so the loss of his fingers wasn't as painful as it would be for a mortal. While he was upset that he had lost, his plan was slowly coming together.

That horrendous display was enough to make everyone call it quits. Nobody else was willing to barter with their body parts, and even Vesryn knew how fanged up it was to let the witch have his fingers. They would eventually regenerate, but that didn't make the loss hurt any less.

However, those dismembered fingers contained tiny sparks of his magic, which meant he could finally track down exactly where that wicked witch lived. Vesryn enjoyed a night of gambling just as much as the next vampire, but he still had a job to do. Cordelia was suspected to have slaughtered over a hundred men, from vampires to mortals, to sell their body parts on the black market and once he located her lair he'd have all the proof he needed to make an arrest.

Vesryn didn't like to lose. So when she cheated him down to his bare ass, he struggled not to reveal the witch's true intentions to the entire table and expose her. He didn't mind sacrificing his own sorry fangs, but he wouldn't put his card playing pals in harm's way.

Candles snuffed out around Vesryn as he was the last one to exit the old warehouse building. The crisp night air caressed his naked flesh and the moonlight glistened off his bare backside before he shifted into a bat.

Bones snapped and crackled while his pale skin melted to a leathery shade as dark as the night. Vesryn soared up into the sky, admiring the full moon and the twinkling stars that guided him across the countryside.

It had taken him weeks to gain the witch's trust to play their card games. She wouldn't get away from him with his fingers that easily. Vesryn flew over the oceanside, savoring the salty air and the delightful smell that carried with the night breeze. He felt that witch so close, as if she were right on the tip of his fangs, as he neared the shore of Raven's Cove.

Powerful gusts of wind nearly knocked him off course as he flapped his wings harder. Sometimes the wind worsened over the oceanside, but he'd never had it try to yank him away. When a surge of power rumbled through the sky like thunder, Vesryn realized far too late that the witch must've known his plan to follow her.

Sharp pain lanced through his left wing as he struggled to stay afloat. Another gust of wind whiplashed him, and dark spots danced in his vision as he went plummeting down to the ground below. Vesryn tried to regain control of his injured wing, but it was no use.

Burnt cherry pie and sulfur singed his nostrils as spiderwebs of blood trickled down his wounded wing. She'd cast a death curse on him. Normally that would be fatal to mortals, but as a vampire, he could withstand her black magic. He just hoped he wouldn't crack his skull open on fall down.

Vesryn instinctively cradled his head with his wings before he landed on top of an open dumpster bin with a loud thump.

It reeked of rotten foods and sewage as Vesryn gagged, wincing when he struggled to wriggle his aching body out of the damned dumpster. How worse could his night possibly get? How in the hells had Cordelia known he was following her?

The back door of a shop adjoined to the dumpster creaked open. Vesryn wasn't about to dive down into the garage just to hide himself, but he hadn't a chance to try when a pair of soft, warm hands scooped him up.

Moonlight glistened off the young woman's wavy lilac locks and her heart-shaped face, with soft lips pursed in a concerned frown. Gentle fingers rubbed the top of his head and Vesryn couldn't help but purr against her touch. She cradled him against her chest, where Vesryn savored her delightful floral scent and the blood pumping through her body. Vesryn wanted to nibble on her so badly, he couldn't resist opening his mouth and chomping on her pinky finger.

"Poor little thing, you must be hungry. Let's get you fixed up, okay? Then I have some berries you can eat."

Vesryn had sampled a lot of blood during his card game, but nothing compared to those delicious drops he'd taken from the lilac-haired woman. She was cautious with putting her fingers around his mouth after he'd taken a nice little nibble. Vesryn wasn't sure who the woman was or why she wanted to care for him, but in his injured state, he couldn't fight back or argue.

Instead, he comfortably nestled up against her breasts and listened to the soothing beating of her heart. It was strangely comforting.

Vesryn found himself surrounded by the intoxicating smell of flowers as she took him inside her charming flower shop. How peculiar for a florist to be awake so late in the night. Perhaps it was suspicious, but the sweet smell of her and the feel of her soft breasts had his mind drifting toward slumber.

Why would she save him if she just wanted to kill him or eat him?

She found him a small wicker basket and layered the bottom with a small cloth before gently placing him in it. Vesryn wished she had just kept holding him instead.

Soon enough, she returned with her first aid kit and plucked a small healing elixir vial out. It was a bright green shade that smelled oddly of wintermint and the forest when she gently applied it to his damaged wing with utmost care.

Vesryn whimpered softly, soon sensing her own healing magic flowing through his body like warm syrup. A yawn escaped his lips as he curled up in her basket and let her soothe his aches. He would find that wicked witch again in the morning once he had time to rest. For now, he just wanted that lovely florist to keep stroking his head and telling him how adorable he was.

Vesryn nudged his nose against her warm hand, another purr rumbling in his throat as she rubbed his head. Despite how much he was tempted to bite her finger again, he refrained so she'd keep petting him.

When she moved away from him to put her medical kit away, Vesryn missed her warm touch more than he should've. He chalked it up to the elixir and her healing magic making him too relaxed, but Vesryn knew the poor girl had no idea he was a vampire. She just thought she had saved a pitiful, wounded bat out of her dumpster.

"Here you go." She placed a small lid with crushed up berries in the basket beside him.

Vesryn took a curious sniff at the berries, wishing he could've eaten some for her sake. One bite would likely have him spewing his guts out in his weakened state. Vampires couldn't digest mortal foods without it making them ghastly sick.

"You need to eat to keep your strength up, little one." Worry lines creased the woman's forehead. "Come on, won't you take a small bite?" She gestured the little dish closer to him.

She wanted him to take a small bite, right? Vesryn ignored the crushed berries and nibbled on her finger again, earning a frustrated sigh from the poor woman.

"Jeez, what am I going to do with you?" She laughed as she pulled away, cradling her hands close.

What a sweet woman. He wished he could stay there with her, actually have a conversation, and maybe let her continue petting his head because that felt so fanging nice. Vesryn would leave right at sunrise, before she ever noticed him escaping from her shop.