The chill wind of the November-December air caused steam to rise from nearby manhole covers and breath to be seen by everyone that breathed. But some did not breathe, and some did not feel the cold. Some were vampires.

It wasn't entirely uncommon for vampires to be in conflict with one another. The Tarepha hated the Amman, after all. But few of them ended in the murder of one vampire or another.

But this one did. Jason had finally pissed off the wrong person, but he didn't know it yet. His 'employer's' partner and best friend lay dead before him, staked by Jason. Jason still remembered the argument about who should have a bigger piece of the cake, so to speak, as he dumped a bottle of whiskey on the dead vamp and stepped way back. He left a small trail of the stuff, just enough to allow him to light it from a distance. In seconds, the flames were roaring. A couple of cops came by. He killed them, fed, and was adding their bodies to the flames when another vampire showed up. He sneered and roughly threw the second body into the fire as he looked at the other vampire.

"Can I help you with something?" he said rudely, as the vampire appeared to be staring. He needed to get out of here and plan his strategy; if his employer found him in this alleyway and figured out what had happened and whose body was the source of the flames, he'd be trapped; he preferred to be able to fight back without damaging every building that surrounded him.