Vivian felt a warmth in her death. She always thought death would be cold, but in fact, she was filled with a warmth that seemed to travel through her veins to every nerve in her body. Each nerve tingled as it died. Vivian thought of her death, the way she would die. It was part of the job. Being a hunter meant you could be killed anytime you went out on a mission, or just walked the streets. They could find you, kill you instantly. In her mind, she had outlived her life numerous times. But this time, it all caught up with her. This time she’d underestimated her abilities, or rather the resolve the vampires seemed to have these days.