“At least the sheets were just changed,” Clara said after picking up the distinct scent of detergent.  

Her stomach growled and remembered there was no kitchenette… At least there’s a phone with a stack of flyers for local restaurants…

“Everything a gal needs…”

Clara sighed, dropped her backpack on the bed and keycard on the desk. Next she took off her leather jacket and focused. Her plain Jane persona was shed in favour of her true form, wings and all.

She could afford a suite at the most expensive hotel in the city, but Clara preferred to be practical. Women who walked in from off the street and asked for their best room got noticed… I don’t need the Valkyrie to make an appearance…

The Valkyrie was the name the authorities and media used for her. She had been caught on camera several times with her black wings in plain sight. The first time she was stark naked and unsurprisingly that video went viral… and a legend was born…

She closed the window, took a deep breath and smiled. There was no scent of smoke, and she was thankful that all the rooms in this hotel were non-smoking. 

“At least the sheets were just changed.” 

“Sorry,” Evelyn said.

“Why?” Clara said. “It’s not your fault.”

She was not overly worried about Evelyn, because Clara could easily hold her at bay. Her sire, Marc, was another matter, the old soldier had great discipline but this development could change the balance. Best I steer clear of him…

Water welled up in Evelyn’s eyes, and appeared to hesitate a moment. Her heart stopped for about three beats before she regained control and backed away. 

“I-I-I’ll call down to the front desk and ask them to send up a supply of sanitary products.”

“That explains the taste of copper last night…” Evelyn said.

“You knew?” Clara asked, her eyes flashing bleu for the fraction of a second. 

“Ma chère,” Evelyn began, taking a deep breath to give her more time to find the right choice of words. “We’ve made (love)—been intimate for a while now. You’ve never shown any signs before… Besides, you told me that you were barren.”

Those words and that soft voice was enough to reach Clara. The betrayal experienced was not brought on by Evelyn, but by her own actions. She killed a crazed goddess in self-defence and this was one of the repercussions…

Before that word finished reverberating off the bathroom walls, Evelyn was standing outside the shower with the door open. Those eyes were wild as though looking for a threat but finding none.

“What’s—(wrong),” Evelyn asked. 

“…Fertility…”

“What?”

“…I killed… the goddess of fertility…”

Evelyn cocked a brow before looking at the sponge. Spots of red were beginning to appear over the golden liquid. At the sight of Clara’s golden blood, Evelyn’s fangs dropped back into place. 

All hunters were sterile, it prevented them from yearning for a family, or having to deal with the complications of a pregnancy during a mission. 

“I haven’t had a cycle since my thirteenth birthday…” 

Being barren was empowering, and one of the reasons why the Roaring Twenties had been particularly memorable for Clara. A single question remained in her mind… how?

In the back of her mind Clara caught a sound. It was rhythmic and oddly enough soothing reminding her of a cat purring…

“Horsefeathers!” Clara swore. 

Clara looked down and found a golden viscous fluid and clots on the sponge, with more of it washing down into the drain. The sight of her golden blood caused her to freeze and quit breathing. 

Blood of angels and gods was gold in colour, very much like Ambrosia. However, it would eventually turn red, indistinguishable from that of a human… That’s how they hide…

She began breathing again when her mind made the link between several disparate events. The twinging and pulling sensation from two weeks ago, the aches and pain, and Evelyn’s fangs… They made me barren…