It had been about a week since he'd taught her how to fly, and slowly, surely, she'd started to keep up in her own right and it came naturally. Almost as soon as she showed signs of the Nosferatu Gift, he'd practically dragged her into training.
There were hardly enough hours in the day to make ends meet and when the sun set over the dark streets the dilapidated street lights kept the city wide awake. Working men and women turned on each other, marks for a hustle. Yet Crawling through the alleys, there was an entirely different sort of entirely inhuman scum.
The signs were there, if one sought to find them. Things just locked into place when he pointed them out. Over the rooftops near the pier they crawled through the muck and shadows to find their mark. Slime trails from cold hands, shattered steel from gnashing teeth.
"Wait here, child. Watch your father go to work." Despite the danger, and he'd never looked so alive. The little token clasped near his collar shone, reddish gold. "Besides, they're in our territory. They should learn to respect the Cromwell Barony of Kliem."
When word got out about these cold blooded creatures and the disappearances at the docks, there was hardly anything the already overworked precinct could do, so they came to him. Still, at times like this, the familiarity in the cold red glow of his eyes brought with them an odd air of reassurance. They had a duty, after all, and while mother insisted this was no place for a girl, there were few barriers for a voivode - even one as young as her.
Odd thing about light; Cast a certain way, the shadows grow wider and darker beneath it. At his command, they seemed to swell behind him and warp into the sheerest fabric, like the train of ancient royalty. A portion of it wreathed itself around her, and the warmth of the connection let her know that even as he slowly faded away from sight, she would always know he was there.