Chapter Six: The First Blood

In Hell's Kitchen, highway chases in broad daylight are hardly a surprise, and few people paid any mind to the Purple Man as he fled with a young girl in tow.

In fact, even the Purple Man himself could not fathom why anyone would come hunting him. But the truth mattered less than survival.

"Looks like I need to get to Boston or San Francisco immediately. New York is far too crowded and chaotic to stay any longer."

The Purple Man led a dazed-looking Jessica Jones around a few corners, hailed an empty cab, and told the driver, "Kennedy Airport, now."

He didn't care that there was someone else in the car; once he spoke that command, these people became Kilgrave’s loyal puppets. He was confident. After all, this ability had never failed him on ordinary people. It even worked on his lover.

The driver started the engine and pulled away. As the taxi rounded the corner at the end of the block, the Purple Man saw the Sin-Cong mercenaries in his rearview mirror. One of them held an AR-15, aiming at the taxi. But the next second, gang members controlled by the Purple Man along the route struck from behind, and the last mercenary fell to the ground. After finishing the job, the gang members dragged the bodies back into the hotel.

The Purple Man leaned back in the seat, arm around Jessica, and lit a cigarette, savoring the joy of another narrow escape.

"I don't really like nicotine. I suggest you put that out immediately."

The Purple Man blinked. Someone dared to challenge his authority? Still, he was in a good mood; he’d give the guy a quick death. "Open the door and jump out of the car."

But his prized mental control failed. There was no action; the ordinary man in the front seat seemed entirely unaffected.

Lynn was, naturally, no ordinary man.

"Perhaps you shouldn't be so confident in your abilities all the time, Kilgrave."

This Purple Man was not the purple-skinned, mutated supervillain from the comics—at least, not yet. He looked like a normal human. On the outside, anyway.

Lynn's words made the Purple Man reach for the door, but he suddenly realized his body was bound by ethereal purple tentacles. These psionic tendrils drained his strength and left him dizzy and unable to speak. Lynn glanced at Jessica; she was clearly still under the Purple Man's influence, but Lynn had no intention of releasing her yet. Her powers weren't overwhelming, but Lynn didn't have the time to soothe her emotional outburst if she started one.

The taxi drove to a nondescript bay in Manhattan and stopped. Lynn walked over to the Purple Man and patted him down.

"You've done so much evil, yet no savings? Right, as a mind-controller, you don't really need savings. My thinking is a bit too conservative. But targeting a young girl? Your tastes are a bit dark. Oh wait, she's an adult—I suppose she doesn't count as a little girl to you?"

Lynn was uncharacteristically chatty, but the more he spoke, the more terrified the Purple Man became. Lynn hadn't stated any demands; he was just spouting the kind of nonsense police usually said. Either he was a lunatic or a crusader of justice. Given that they were standing by a foul-smelling bay, the Purple Man didn't think Lynn was the latter.

"Though I'd love to hear you say something, given your abilities, I won't give you the chance for last words. Goodbye, my friend."

Even though the Purple Man had a mouthful of things he wanted to say, Lynn wouldn't grant him the opportunity. The taxi driver pulled a jack from the trunk and started binding the Purple Man with nylon rope. Lynn pulled out a fruit knife.

Once the driver finished tying him up, Lynn drove the blade into the Purple Man's back. Copious amounts of blood surged out. Then, Lynn reached in and extracted a section of his spine, carefully wrapping it in a sterile bag he had just purchased. After that, without hesitation, he kicked the Purple Man into the murky waters of the Manhattan bay.

The villain sank to the bottom of the harbor, creating only a small splash.

Once the Purple Man disappeared, Jessica slumped to the ground, covering her mouth, staring fixedly at the water where the ripples had vanished. Lynn walked over, but instead of touching her, he stood at a safe distance.

"Kilgrave is dead. I don't know what you've been through, but if you need to rest, you can come back with me. You can get some sleep and take a hot shower. I'll give you half an hour to calm down, then tell me your decision."

Lynn didn't believe he, a total stranger, could comfort this girl. She might grow up to be strong later. But for now, with the Jones family home empty, she had likely lost everyone. He knew he couldn't pull such a miserable girl out of her grief with a few words.

"Time is the best cure for these things."

"Boss, your time is precious, and so is mine. I could have made several fares in half an hour," the taxi driver remarked. Lynn nodded in satisfaction. The driver still possessed his original behavior patterns and logic, which meant the brainwashing was successful. Unlike mind control that turned people into mindless puppets, this skill—which could be lifted at will without affecting their original personality—was far more practical.

Lynn handed the driver a bill. "Wait patiently."

"You got it, boss."

After a while, Lynn saw in the rearview mirror that Jessica had stood up. She threw all the nearby trash into the water. With her super-strength, she even tossed an iron dumpster in without effort. Then, she stood there screaming like a madwoman, which truly startled the driver—who hadn't even been fazed when Lynn manually extracted a human spine.

Finally, after smashing the concrete ground and dumping all the nearby refuse into the bay, Jessica slowly sat down. A few minutes later, she trudged to the back seat of the taxi.

"Let's go."

Lynn had expected he might need to give Jessica a little help, but it seemed he had worried for nothing. The girl was tougher than he imagined.

They stopped on Sequoia Street, and Jessica followed him silently. When Lynn reached the entrance of his fried chicken shop, he encountered a group of unwelcome guests.

"I thought you'd learned your lesson and would stay away from my shop. You’re coming back for more?"

"Cut the crap. Where is the Nightwalker?"

"Blade? Why are you asking me? I have zero interest in your vampire feuds. And I don't like being threatened. If you really want to know where Blade is, bring me a million dollars—that'll be much more useful than the M1911 you're holding. It's funny, you lackeys came here to die with submachine guns before, and now you lot—these disheveled vampires—dare to come back to bother me with weapons that fire jellybeans?"

Lynn’s words clearly rattled the idiots. Daken must have put out a bounty, and these vampires were hoping to get lucky. But Daken clearly hadn't shared enough intel, or these malnourished vampires wouldn't have dared to provoke Lynn. Two guys further back were already trying to sneak away, but as they turned, they seemed to hit a wall and fell to the ground. Tom and Jekutor had blocked the alleyway from both sides.

"You didn't think I'd talk this much and then let you walk away, did you? When you're picking your next line of work in the afterlife, try using your brain; you might live longer. Or just go raid a blood bank at a hospital; that seems more your speed."

Throughout this, Jessica hid behind Lynn, staring at him intently, her hands clutching the hem of his coat.

"Finish them off and clean up the scene. We're opening tomorrow."

Lynn pulled up the rolling shutter and prepared to enter. But even a rabbit will bite when cornered, let alone vampires. The leader, seeing the bloody scene as Jekutor and Tom began their slaughter, lost his composure and charged at Lynn, forgetting he even had a pistol. He just wanted to grab the person who looked the weakest.

Just as Lynn prepared to act, Jessica suddenly dashed out and kicked the vampire several meters away. For an eighteen-year-old high schooler, it wasn't bad.

"Come inside. Jekutor and the others will handle the rest."

"What... what are they?"

Clearly, the vampires were far less shocking than two Bio-Weapons.

"Um... my employees?"

Lynn ignored the vampires still firing useless shots at the Bio-Weapons and closed the thin shutter. His shop had a basement, but he wasn't ready to take Jessica there. He opened a side door leading to a warehouse, a restroom, and a shower room.

"No bathtub, you'll have to make do. I'll put some clothes in the washer by the door. They're men's clothes."

"That's fine."

Was she always like this? Lynn couldn't remember. In his mind, Jessica Jones wasn't the silent type. Most characters in the Marvel Universe were quite expressive, with few "kuudere" heroes besides Daredevil—though Matt wasn't really that silent either.

The fight outside lasted about a minute. When Lynn opened the shutter again, Tom and Jekutor were putting their pants back on. He brought out two buckets and some cleaning supplies; it was going to be a long night. As he directed them to clean, he heard a familiar voice.

"I didn't know you had these kinds of tricks."

"So, I guess you're talking to me because you've decided not to play the vigilante for now? I suspect Daken is harder to deal with than you thought. Otherwise, you wouldn't be back."

Blade said nothing, holding a suitcase. "Can this money buy your two subordinates for a run? Daken found something I don't recognize. He has extraordinary power now, and I need extra support."

Lynn didn't refuse. He took the suitcase, went inside, and sat in his old recliner to count the money. "Anyone else?"

"Little girl. What about her? Also, eavesdropping on people showering isn't very polite."

"Sidis, I have no interest in your fetishes. Are we doing business or not?"

Blade waited as Lynn counted the cash. It was nearly everything he and the old man had, but given what Daken was doing, Blade felt it was a necessary expense. Hunting vampires wasn't simple; it was always accompanied by blood and death.

"One hundred thousand. Not bad, not a small sum. Why work alone if you have this much?"

"Most people are just dead weight. It's better to work alone. Well? Do we have a deal?"

"Sure, but I have one condition."

"Speak."

Lynn took the suitcase, and Jekutor walked in, stowing the money away and taking the half-spine Lynn produced from his coat. The purple psionic energy still clung to it. Jekutor took the spine downstairs, leaving the money behind.

"I want Daken's legacy. If you agree, I don't even need this money. As a regional vampire lead, his assets are worth more than this. You only need to—and can only—go after Daken. I'll send Tom and another guy to assist you. At the same time, I need you not to slaughter every extra vampire you see. I need some of them to help me take over Daken's operations."

The Purple Man was a pauper, but Daken wasn't. They definitely had a base, and it wouldn't be some country cottage. Lynn had asked Blade before; every time he raided a place, he took down bars, underground fight clubs, hotels, and cafes. They had a systemic business, or they couldn't maintain such large numbers without the police going crazy over missing persons reports.

"They're vampires. You plan to continue Daken's business?"

"Certainly not. By the way, don't you find Tom familiar?"

Blade looked back at Tom carefully. "You have a way to cure the vampire disease?"

"Can't cure it. He's still a vampire; the energy dwelling in him hasn't disappeared. But they don't need to feed, and they can walk in the sun. Believe me, without the need to feed, they're no more dangerous than the gangs in Hell's Kitchen."

That energy was dark magic from Thorne. Lynn wasn't a mage, but he had ways to limit its influence. At least until Dracula arrived and ordered Tom to feed, these modified vampires wouldn't need to drink blood or fear the sun.

Blade pondered for a moment, but he had few choices. The vampires in Daken's headquarters were armed to the teeth, mostly veterans and special forces converts. He was confident in hunting them, but not in storming the stronghold and killing them all at once. Lynn didn't look like a saint, but Blade didn't care. He was just an avenger; what Lynn did afterward wasn't his concern.

"Deal."

"Take your money back. I'll have Tom go with you now so you can get used to his strength."

Tom had finished cleaning the mess outside and dragged a bag into the shop. Jekutor climbed up from the basement, the spine gone, bringing up a stack of vials.

"A gift. Call me when you need me. You're not leaving right now, right? I assume you have other arrangements."

Blade tossed Lynn an old-fashioned cell phone. "I'll use this to notify you."

"Old school."

"I don't like advanced equipment."

Blade disappeared into the night. His movements were faster than an ordinary vampire; in a few breaths, he was beyond Lynn's perception. Tom followed behind. Lynn didn't care.

The warehouse door slowly opened. Jessica emerged, wearing a loose shirt and jacket.

"Get some rest. There's a bed in there. It was mine, but I have work tonight. You sleep there."

"What about those people outside?"

"Calling them 'people' is a bit of a stretch. They were vampires."

"Like in *Bram Stoker's Dracula*?"

"Your movie taste is different than I thought. I assumed young people preferred *Twilight*. But let's not discuss that." Lynn walked up to her. "Sleep. Tomorrow morning, decide where you're going. Think it over; you saw a lot today."

Lynn walked into the basement. "If you want to stay, find me in the basement. If you want to forget everything and go back to... a less-than-perfect life, have Jekutor find me."

He closed the door, looking at the spine Jekutor had placed in a large culture tank. It didn't have a brain, but Lynn didn't need one. The genetic information in that section of the spine was enough to create a new host.

"Looks like no sleep tonight."

Lynn had a lot of work to do.