Vampire Hunter D: Bloodlust

"Final Hours"

by Troy A. Stanton

(Author's note: This fanfic follows the events of the original story
"Winds of Change" (written by me) and also incorporates a few elements
from the story "Drawing Blood" by Catherine B. Krusberg. I have her
permission to make use of her work as a source of material, so anything
"new" you see in here about D's past with Doris that didn't happen in
the movie is most likely her original plot material.)

WARNING: This story contains adult content, please do not read beyond
this point if you are easily offended by such things.

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((Day 2 - Circle of Stones))

He awoke with the sun, his eyes parting just as the leading edge of the
dawning sphere crept over the horizon. The campfire had burnt itself out long
ago, only a single and nearly invisible wisp of smoke remaining as it wafted up
from the last few embers. A faint hint of a chill hung in the air, serving as
a gentle reminder that the turning of the seasons was slowly approaching.

He remained motionless for a number of moments, gazing at the horizon as
it slowly brightened. A bulge hanging from on one of the trees cast an odd
shadow on the ground, the large tuft of blue-green at the top being the only
indication that it wasn't the seasonal home of a very large caterpillar.

He closed his eyes briefly as he heard a loud yawn, doing his best not to
follow suit. He finally gave in after a few seconds of resistance, trying not
to wonder what was so contagious about it.

((I was wondering when you'd wake up,)) it greeted him with a quiet chuckle.
((Not to be a louse, D, but has anyone ever told you that it's obvious to tell
when you're sleeping well and when you're not?))

D took his time in sitting up, trying to work out the stiffness in his
joints that came from sleeping on uncushioned terrain. "What do you mean?" he
finally asked, allowing his curiosity to get the better of him despite the fact
that he could clearly see he was just being baited for entertainment.

((You only snore when you're sleeping comfortably and you're not too busy
thinking about something,)) it replied. ((Therefore, when you're quieter than a
dead mouse when you sleep, it means something is weighing heavily on you. I
don't suppose you want to mention what it might be? Or do I have to play the
infamous dunpeal guessing-game again?)) it added when D remained silent.

He ignored it as he looked around the terrain, trying to see if he could
locate a suitable bush. Had he been traveling alone he would have pissed on
the ashes of the fire without a second thought, just to make absolutely sure
that it was completely out. But since he was not alone and in the presence of
a woman to boot....

((Hey, where we going?)) it spoke up as he headed off. ((Galen's cocoon is
over that way. You know, so you can wake her up like you did yesterday? I'll
bet that's going to be a real hard task for you.... hey, hey, HEY! Watch the
branches! Ow!))

"It would be best if you were to stay out of this," D said calmly as he
proceeded to take care of his personal business.

((Oh, here we go again,)) it replied with a groan that was only half-faked.
((Not another 'you shut up while I go screw up another shot at a relationship
with a very beautiful woman' scenario. D, when are you going to listen to me?
C'mon, after what she said last night about wanting you to open up to her? I'm
pretty sure it means she....))

"I said stay out of this," D interrupted in a flat tone as he sealed his
trousers with a sharp tug.

((D....)) it sighed, its voice taking on a tone of resignation that usually
came with the impulse to bang one's head against a solid object. ((What in the
name of all that is holy are we going to do with you? Look, just trust me for
once on this, will ya? I can have the two of you.... !!!))

The entire tree rocked with the blow as D slammed his left palm against
the trunk as hard as he could. He remained perfectly motionless until the tree
quit swaying, watching impassively as a thin trickle of his own blood began to
ooze down the bark.

((....Ow....)) a quiet voice moaned inside his mind.

"Stay out," D said simply, knowing he didn't need to say anything else.

((Eeesh,)) it grunted as D removed his hand from the tree. ((Well, I'll be
damned, that actually cleared out my sinuses pretty good. Alright, D, I get
the hint. I'll keep my mouth shut about it. Umm.... crap, hold still....))

He said nothing as the thing slowly drew in a deep breath, creating a
powerful vacuum-like effect that caused several of the tree's lower branches to
start swaying back and forth. It paused after a few moments, trying to hold
the mass of air in before it began to twitch hard.

D almost wound up flat on his backside as it suddenly sneezed, the stored
air rushing back out with the force of a major hurricane. The outrush of air
was so powerful that it created a dent in the tree-trunk, blowing the layer of
bark apart and cratering the wood beneath it. A small deluge of leaves began
to rain down a moment later, ripped free from the branches by the sneeze.

"Gezundheit," D said calmly once he was sure his balance was stable.

((Sorry,)) it apologized quietly. ((Told you it cleared my sinuses....))

He said nothing as he returned to the circle of stones, not surprised to
see that neither the blood-tingle of the rising sun nor the momentary hurricane
had disturbed the cocoon-like object on the tree. It had been positioned at an
angle on the tree, the trunk sheltering the majority of the cocoon's surface
from the morning rays of the sun. A few stray orange-and-crimson beams managed
to strike her hair, however, blending in with the blue-green strands to create
a kaleidoscopic highlight that he had to admit was fascinating to study.

A very faint buzzing noise started up as he began to run his fingertips
through the prismatic strands, very lightly stroking her hair. He continued to
repeat the motion at a slow and fluid rate, the soft buzzing noise starting to
grow louder with every passing moment. It seemed to him that the process took
a fairly long time before the cocoon-cape finally fell away from her, revealing
the way she was curled up with the insect-like claws on her hands and feet
securely attached to the tree.

((You're the first person to ever wake me up like this,)) she said softly,
her voice distorted into an almost metallic buzz. She leaned her head back,
just enough to bring his fingertips in contact with her scalp. A soft sigh
rose up from her chest as he promptly withdrew his hand, taking a step back to
give her enough space to climb down.

She twisted around, her facial features slowly reverting to normal as she
looked at him. "It is.... definitely a pleasant way to start the day," she
said quietly as she slowly stretched her joints. "Good morning, D."

"Morning," he replied quietly, absently studying the muscle structure of
her elbows and knees. They appeared to be perfectly normal, but after seeing
how she had spent the night vertically hanging from the tree by her fingers and
toes, he knew that she had to have some incredibly powerful muscles to be able
to not only support her weight but to still be able to move after several hours
of remaining motionless as well.

"But not a good one?" she inquired as she eased her way down. She resumed
her normal form a few moments later, the twisted spurs and gnarls seeming to
melt away to restore her pale skin to utter flawlessness once again. "Surely
you're not so pessimistic about life that you can't enjoy a morning every now
and then. I think it looks fairly scenic from here," she added as she turned
to face the rising sun, narrowing her eyes slightly against the radiance.

She sighed and closed her eyes as he moved past her without a word, her
hand reaching out to snag his arm at the last moment. "D, I'm sorry if I upset
you last night," she said quietly, slowly opening her eyes to look up at him.

"You didn't," he replied in a faintly reassuring tone.

"So what's the problem?" she said, raising a delicate eyebrow.

He looked at her for a moment before the corners of his mouth twitched up
a fraction of an inch in what might have been the beginnings of a smirk. "I'm
not a morning person," he said evenly. He paused and regarded her carefully as
she began to chuckle very softly to herself.

"I suppose I walked into that one," she said dryly. "Now imagine that, a
dunpeal who isn't a morning person. What ever is this world coming to?" She
just shook her head to herself as he moved past her in silence, heading over
to the circle of ashes to make sure all the embers were extinguished.

He busied himself with the task of cleaning up any traces of the camp,
packing everything away in the saddle-bags while she slipped away to tend to
her own morning call of nature. He looked up when she returned, a faint look
of confusion marring her exotic beauty.

"D?" she called out when she drew close. "Did something happen back there
last night while I was asleep?"

He lifted his head to follow her gesture, grunting softly to himself when
he realized she was pointing at the sneeze-damaged tree. "The air needed to
be cleared," he replied calmly. "Nothing more."

She gave him a truly odd look for a moment before shaking her head, not
entirely sure if she wanted to inquire further. "Okay," she said in a leery
tone. "So did you want to grab breakfast now or a little bit down the road?"

"Later," he replied as he made sure the saddle-bags were properly secured,
casting a momentary glance at the rising sun. The burning sphere had already
cleared the horizon and continued to inch higher in the sky, only partially
masked by the treeline. He knew that the forest canopy was pretty thin at the
moment and wanted to reach a measurable amount of shade as soon as possible.

She shrugged in dismissal, taking a step back to give him space to hoist
himself into the saddle. "That's fine with me, I'm not in much of a rush for
another helping of those trail rations. Heh," she chuckled, giving him a coy
look as he held his hand out to her. "If I had to eat those things all the
time, I'd probably be as dour as you are as well," she teased him gently.

He shot her an unamused look as he braced, half-helping her up into the
saddle. He got another amused look and a quiet giggle for his efforts, her
hands reaching down to pick up the reins once again. "D, please tell me you
have a sense of humor," she said as she gently nudged the mount forward.

((He has one,)) D's symbiot suddenly spoke up, immediately drawing a truly
dark look from D. ((Quit looking at me like that, D, we both know you have a
sense of humor. The only problem is you keep forgetting where you put it....))

He just sighed as Galen giggled quietly to herself, ignoring the playful
pat on his leg. The sun was already creeping above the treeline, bathing them
with its golden brilliance. He sighed again as he began to feel its effects,
wondering which was going to end up posing the greater risk to his health....
the flesh-burning light and heat of the sun or his uncertainty about what he
would ultimately end up doing with Galen.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They rode for another two hours before stopping to rest, letting the horse
graze on some of the still-abundant meadow grass while they idly nibbled on a
portion of the trail rations. The trees were still fairly thin, far too thin
for D's comfort as the sun continued to beat down on them.

"Ooooh," Galen cooed quietly as she caught motion among the willowy grass.
She narrowed her eyes as she followed the progression of moving stalks and very
faint rustles, wondering what sort of woodland creature was causing it. "Oh,
yeah," she purred as a pair of ears were glimpsed as they darted across an open
patch of terrain. She unconsciously licked her lips, watching as the rabbit
poked its nose up above the grassline.

"What's your favorite kind of game, D?" she asked quietly. "Mine happens
to be rabbits," she added without waiting for a response that she knew wasn't
very likely to come. "Yeah, they're a little small and reeeeeeeally hard to
catch, but mmmmmm, do they taste good. Maybe if we're lucky we'll be able to
snare a couple for some stew. Their blood is pretty good too, if you don't
mind a bit of an aftertaste, but I've found that you can cover that pretty well
if you add a little cider mulling spice."

She continued to watch the rabbit move around before it seemed to suddenly
disappear, no doubt going back to its underground burrow. "Oh, well," she said
with a longing sigh. "Relax, little one, you won't be on my dinner plate any
time soon. Now should I meet a few of your cousins near my own burrow...."

She paused and glanced behind her as she felt D shift his weight in the
saddle slightly, narrowing her eyes slightly at the look on his face. "D, is
something wrong?" she asked carefully.

He lifted his head up to glance at her for a moment before slowly shaking
his head. "No," he said simply as he returned his focus to the surrounding
landscape.

She narrowed her eyes even further as her woman's intuition tried to tell
her that something was indeed wrong. "You sure about that?" she inquired in a
cautious tone. She just sighed as she received a faintly reproving glare in
response. "I was just checking, D, relax. One might think I was asking you to
do a cartwheel on the grass from the look on your face."

((You must've missed the moves he made last night during the ambush,)) it
spoke up in a faintly amused tone. A very soft grunt could be heard a moment
later as D balled his hand into a fist, effectively keeping it quiet.

"I noticed," Galen replied quietly as she went back to scanning the grass
for more rabbits. "Very agile. I'm not sure I would have charged someone with
a crossbow like that, but I guess one develops different combat styles when you
use an edged sword instead of a pointed rapier. I still can't believe how you
managed to break mine like that," she added as she picked up the reins and gave
them a gentle flick.

"Speaking of broken weapons," she said conversationally as she guided the
mount into a casual trot, "What exactly happened to your sword back there? You
know, the one you used to kill my father." She paused for a moment before she
glanced over her shoulder, suddenly aware of an almost palpable shift in his
mood. "D, you sure you're alright?"

"It was destroyed," D said quietly, almost sullenly. He glanced up at her
with a veiled look of pain in his eyes before looking away.

"Do I want to ask how?" she inquired, alternating her attentions between
him and the trail ahead of them.

"He had gathered together an incredible amount of spiritual energy," he
replied quietly. "When he died, that energy was released in a blast of raw
power. I didn't have enough time to both grab my sword and get clear of the
explosion."

"Wait, what?" she said as she jerked the mount to a halt. She twisted
around in the saddle to look at him, her brow furrowed in confusion. "You mean
he used himself as an energy trap?"

"The old ones like him were very powerful entities," D explained quietly.
"Their deaths always resulted in a massive outpouring of all the life-energy
they had absorbed and retained throughout their existences. That burst of raw
energy is what causes their castles to crumble, often held together through the
ages not by mere mortar but by sheer force of will. In your father's case, he
merely channeled all that energy into a single point so that it would violently
erupt when my sword pierced it."

"I.... see," Galen said softly, a somewhat disturbed expression crossing
her face. "I take it that sword of yours was a family heirloom or something?"
She blinked in surprise as D seemed to wilt and withdraw inward, the shell of
isolation almost taking a physical form. "D, please.... tell me," she asked in
a soft tone as she reached out, gently laying her hand on top of his.

She was surprised when he didn't flinch from the contact or pull away,
giving her a glimmer of hope that she was somehow reaching him through the veil
of his guarded emotions. "It was a gift from.... an old friend," he finally
replied after almost a full minute of silence, his eyes still downcast.

"Human or vampire?" she asked softly, hoping that she wasn't pushing too
hard by asking.

His eyes rose up to meet hers for a moment before he looked away again.
"Human," he whispered.

She squeezed his hand gently before turning back around, setting the mount
into motion with a gentle flick of the reins. "I know what it's like," she
said after a few moments of careful thought. "You're out riding around, just
minding your own business, and all of a sudden a human winds up in your life.
I don't know what it is that makes them so fascinating, and I don't think any
of our kind really knew either. They're so chaotic and unpredictable, and yet
that seems to be both a weakness and a strength. And just when you start to
get used to one, get to know and understand how he or she thinks, they get old
on you. And before you know it, they're gone, just like that. It's.... I'm
not sure I understand it even after all this time."

She risked a glance over her shoulder, blinking at the openly haunted look
of pain and suffering on his face. It wasn't anything like physical pain or
discomfort, but rather the silent agony of loss and sorrow. His expression
changed a moment later as he glanced up, realizing that she was looking at him.

"A woman, then?" she asked quietly, receiving nothing but silence and an
emotionless stare for several moments. He finally nodded slightly, the edge of
his hat barely wobbling up and down in acknowledgement of her insight.

"I had a.... consort like that once," she said as she looked back at the
trail, sighing quietly as her own memories returned. "So young and full of the
warmth of life. He made me smile a lot, though not always from his sense of
humor. I guess he just knew how to share his love of life with me, to make me
appreciate things as he did. He was an affectionate little beast, too," she
added with a soft chuckle. "Always a little hug here, or a gentle touch there,
or a soft kiss when I didn't expect it. I pitied his human stamina, but he did
his best to please me whenever I let him coax me into something a little more
involved than casual snuggling under a tree."

She sighed again and looked up at the sky, trying to estimate the time of
day by the position of the sun. "That went on for a good twelve years or so,
then he apparently lost a fight with some hairy thing in the forest. I don't
think anyone ever managed to find out what killed him, but I was.... not nearly
as prepared for his loss as I thought I would be. I mean, of course I knew I
would outlive him, but.... time has a way of weighing on you when you're not
watching it."

"Did you love him?" D asked very quietly.

Galen paused for a moment, caught off-guard by the question. "Love him?
Not really. Don't get me wrong, he was a lot of fun to be with and all, but I
certainly didn't see us as a couple or anything. He was.... well, like I said,
more a casual consort than anything. Someone to spend some time with, relax
around, have a little fun.... okay, a lot of fun," she amended with a fairly
moderate blush on her cheeks. "I still miss him sometimes, but I'm not about
to go drown myself in a mug of ale over the memories. Perhaps that's a little
cold of me to say so, but this was quite awhile ago. Time tends to dull a fair
amount of pain as it slips past you. D.... why did you ask me that?"

She was answered with a long stretch of silence before her sensitive ears
finally heard him draw a breath. "I.... wasn't sure if we knew how to love,"
he said very softly. "I knew there was a bond between my mother and my father,
and I knew she loved him, but I was never able to determine if he loved her in
the same way she did him. I never knew what it felt like until I met.... her.
And I didn't realize what it was, what I had until she was gone."

He looked up as she leaned back slightly, taking hold of his hand to slip
her fingers among his in a gentle grip. "I don't think I can answer that one
for you," she whispered, looking down at the road as she loosely held the reins
in her free hand. "But perhaps you can answer it for me. Tell me about her,
D, about this human woman who touched your heart and gave you that sword."

He sighed quietly, almost painfully as he began to tell her about all that
had happened back then, how he had met Doris and helped her win her personal
struggle against Count Magnus Lee. He then went on to tell her how Doris had
been his first in so many ways, his first lover, the first sips of willingly
offered blood he had taken, the first time he slept in someone's arms since his
mother's death.... and the first voice to haunt him after he came to believe he
had hurt her.

"It took me a very long time to forgive myself for that," he whispered.
"I.... I would still be in pain today if.... if it wasn't for another young
human woman. She touched my soul as Doris had touched the human part of me,
making me realize that I was capable of love and that I had loved Doris. It
took me a long time to realize that I loved her as well, but.... by that time
it was already too late. Again."

Galen remained quiet as she listened to him, still holding his hand in a
gentle grip. She could almost physically feel the pain in his voice, almost
taste the sorrow on her tongue as it threatened to drown him once again. Even
with as strong a grasp as she had on the common language they shared, she knew
that there wouldn't be any, couldn't be any words that could possibly help ease
his pain. Time itself couldn't mend that sort of wound, the kind that could
only be healed by the gentle touch of a kindred spirit and an open soul.

She lifted her head slightly as he realized that he had fallen silent, the
shroud of his isolation starting to surround him once again. She dared not try
to prod him further at this point, to dig deeper into the wound to ask who the
second woman had been. She would try to gently ask later, as the passage of
time could dull that particular kind of pain, the kind caused by the baring of
one's heart and soul.

She sighed quietly as he tugged his hand free from hers, finding herself
wishing that he would trust her. The realization that she was starting to have
feelings for him caught her by surprise, making her suddenly question her state
of mind. He had killed her father, brought her entire species to extinction,
and at the end of their journey would pierce her heart with his blade as well.
So why was she trying to reach out to him like that? Was she simply that
desperate for company? Did she truly fear being alone that much, unique not in
just her heritage but as the lone survivor of the vampire's legacy as well?

The sun continued to shine down on them with a fierce intensity as they
rode along in silence, both lost in dark thoughts that burdened their souls so
heavily that neither would have ever wished the weight on their worst enemies.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was late afternoon when Galen finally realized that something was wrong
with D. Not just the dark and silent brooding that she had come to accept as
part of who he was, but something more bothersome. She had briefly rested the
mount on three occasions, once easing herself out of the saddle to make use of
a particularly dense bush. He had hardly moved at all during the breaks, only
reaching out to offer her a steady hand as she mounted and dismounted.

She cast a worried glance over her shoulder as she nudged the mount into
motion once again, trying to decide if she should risk confronting him. The
back of her mind was clearly screaming a warning of some sort, but she didn't
know what exactly it was trying to warn her of.

"D," she said quietly, studying his face intently. The edge of his hat
lifted up slightly, a gesture she was starting to become familiar with. "Are
you alright?"

She received a gentle nod before he went back to thinking about whatever
it was he had been thinking about for the past few hours. A sudden flash of
her women's intuition told her that he was lying, that he wasn't alright and
that he was trying to mask it for some reason.

Think, she told herself. You know how men work.... well, somewhat. What
would cause a man to try to conceal pain? Pride, certainly, but that he would
try to quietly take care of on his own. Is it even pain? she suddenly asked
herself. Or is it something else?

She allowed the reins to go slack for a moment, letting the mount settle
into his own pace with only the slightest of nudges of her boots on his flanks
needed to keep him moving forward. She tried to study his face even closer, a
slight frown crossing hers as he looked up at her with a level gaze that was
completely unreadable.

"D," she found herself saying in a slightly flat tone. "What's wrong?"
He remained silent as he gazed back at her, prompting a very soft growl of
frustration from her. Just talk to me, you fool, she wanted to yell at him.
She knew that it would only make matters worse if she did so, however, which
was the only reason she held her tongue.

"Men," she allowed herself to mutter as she turned around and flicked the
reins, perhaps just a little harder than she had intended. The mount promptly
picked up the pace, the change in inertia slightly rocking them both in the
saddle as the horse moved forward at a canter.

She paused as she felt him adjust his weight, almost as if he hadn't been
prepared for it. That struck her as slightly odd, as he had always seemed to
be able to compensate for a change of inertia even when he was clearly wasn't
paying attention to anything other than his own private thoughts.

Could he be getting sick? she wondered. She knew that he was probably
just as resistant to things like viruses and bacterial infections as she was,
given their robust immune systems and capacity for physical regeneration. It
was possible for dunpeals to get the equivalent of a sniffle or a headcold, and
both vampires and dunpeals tended to be just slightly more susceptible to that
which affects the blood or the heart, but such things were still rather rare.

She carefully listened to his breathing, not an easy task given all the
immediate background noise. The steady clop-clop rhythm of the horse's hooves,
the subtle creaking of the leather saddle as it moved back and forth, the soft
rustle of their clothes as they moved with the saddle, the whisperings of the
light breeze as it blew past, the calls of the daytime woodland animals....

There, she thought as she closed her eyes. Her features started to take
on an insectoid appearance as she concentrated, an unconscious side-effect of
her focus. It took a moment to determine the rhythm of that super-quiet sound,
a gentle passing of air that seemed.... shallow. Frequent. Not labored, but
not relaxed either.

So something is bothering him, she thought as she returned her focus to
the road, her exotic beauty smoothing out to normal of its own accord. She
began to shift her sensory focus again, trying to see if she could smell the
scent of his blood. She gave up after a few moments as she realized that the
breeze drifting past them put her upwind of him.

Something's wrong, she thought, rewinding her thoughts to start over at
the beginning. He seems.... lethargic? Not breathing deeply, faster than it
should be, but still quiet so it's not a respiratory irritation or blockage.
He's not tense or irritable, so it's not the blood-hunger. I really hope he's
not coming down with something, although I don't see what it could possibly be
in terms of a virus. His hand felt a little warm, but that's just....

She jerked hard on the reins as something clicked in her mind. She waited
until the mount had stopped before turning around, reaching out to grab his
hand and ignoring the startled look on his face. His skin was warm, just a
little warmer than it should have been. It wasn't the feverish warmth of an
infection or sickness, but rather the warmth of pale skin that had been exposed
to the cloudless sky for two full days of late-summer sunshine.

A simple glance at the look on his face drove the realization home, able
to piece together everything. Breathing shallow to avoid rasping as his throat
started to constrict, hardly moving at all to avoid exerting what little energy
he had left, keeping his head down so she wouldn't see the unusual contractions
of his pupils whenever she glanced back at him.

"D, it's heat exposure, isn't it?" she said quickly, letting go of his
hand to tilt his head up slightly. He jerked away from her touch, but not
before she could see the faintest traces of luminescence in his eyes and the
very tips of his vampiric fangs lurking beneath his slightly-parted lips.

"You fool, you could have said something earlier," she muttered as she
turned back around and quickly looked at the landscape, trying to determine
where exactly she was. "Okay, we're close, but just how close? Let's try it
like this," she whispered to herself as she held up a hand.

Her eyes began to take on a multi-faceted composition as she lifted her
head up, making a rather loud and protracted buzzing-hum. A pair of ridges
formed on her forehead as she concentrated, her features continuing to slowly
assume a distinctly insectoid shape as she called out in a language that was
anything but a language.

A very faint buzzing sound registered on her senses as a common bee flew
over to her, circling her hand for a moment before landing on an outstretched
fingertip. She very carefully brought her hand up to her face, studying the
insect intently as she made a series of very soft buzzing noises. The yellow
bee reacted a few seconds later, wiggling its abdomen in an odd pattern as it
fluttered its wings in pulses.

She nodded in understanding as she very gently blew a puff of air at the
bee, dislodging it from her hand and causing it to fly off. ((We're a little
farther from my burrow than I thought,)) she said as she glanced over at D, her
voice distorted by her insectoid form. ((You can rest in safety there, but we
still have a lot of ground to cover first. I can bury you here if you don't
think you can hold out that long.))

He looked at her for a moment before nodding in understanding. He leaned
forward, sliding both arms around her waist to grab the saddlehorn with both
hands. "Ride," he said softly.

((D?)) the voice drifted up from his left hand. ((I don't think you should
try to push it. Now might be a good time to WHHGURK)) it gasped as D jammed
his hand down, shoving the horn into its open mouth. ((D, when was the last
time you washed this thing?)) it asked psionically in a rather calm tone that
only D could hear.

"Hold on," Galen whispered as she made sure she was braced properly. She
cast a final glance over her shoulder, her blue-green eyes seeming to be filled
with liquid concern as she flicked the reins hard.

Most of D's senses promptly blurred into uselessness, the thunderous sound
of galloping hooves blotting out anything else that he might have heard. The
rough motion of the saddle quickly played havoc with both his vision and his
sense of balance, causing him to close his eyes and grip the saddlehorn with
what little strength he had left.

Two senses he did manage to retain were his senses of smell and touch. An
unusually soft and airy scent was tickling his nose for some reason, making it
even harder to think straight. His face felt like it was being bathed by a
thousand feathers, a sensation that was somewhere between a tickle and a very
soft caress. It took him a moment to realize that both were being caused by
Galen's hair as it fluttered past him, brushing across his face as she drove
the mount forward at a hard pace.

D wondered if that is what it had felt like to her when he had touched her
hair earlier, waking her up from her slumber as she had asked him to do. The
faintest suggestion of a smile crossed his face as he decided he liked it, the
last thought to register on his conscious mind at his body began to shut down
from too much exposure to the searing light of the sun.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Earth was the host for the circle of life, the great wheel of events in
which all living things were born, lived, and died. Everything grew from the
land in one form or another, either by living in it directly as plants do or by
sustaining themselves on the food-chains that were rooted in the ground. Life
sprang from the earth, took nutrients from it to continue, and later returned
those nutrients when that spark of life died and decomposed.

It was this sort of fundamental life-energy that vampires and their kind
instinctively sought out when wounded or weakened beyond their capacity for
self-healing. Just as they needed to draw blood from the living, the liquid
essence of life needed to sustain themselves, so too did they occasionally need
to draw upon the most fundamental force of the land that fueled and hosted life
as an entity.

When D regained consciousness, he was immediately aware of two things. He
knew that the sun had just set, as it was the gentle tug on his spirit that had
finally drawn him back from the inner darkness. But even before he could open
his eyes or make sense of the sensory input his body was giving him, he knew
that he was buried fairly deep in the ground.

It seemed to take forever for his eyelids to finally part, letting him
assess his surroundings. He immediately noticed that he was in a pit of some
sort, buried up to his armpits in soft soil. A small barrel and a shovel were
nearby, both covered with the same kind of dirt he was resting in. His arms
had been left free, allowing him the freedom to dig himself out or pile more
soil around him if he so wished.

The nature of the room he was in took a few seconds to figure out, finally
realizing that he was in a large hollow dug under the roots of a fairly massive
tree. The roots could be seen along the walls, indeed forming the structure of
the walls themselves. A sort of ramp was off to one side, no doubt the only
way in or out from the underground chamber.

The smell registered on his nose a moment later, an unusual blend of the
rich, earthy smells of the soil and tree mixing with the tantalizing scent of
meat being slow-roasted over hot coals. It took him a moment to spot where the
pit was, a matted sheaf of leaves gathered together in a corner to surround a
tiny column of smoke and steam.

He began to turn his head to look around, noticing that his sword had been
propped in the corner just inches beyond his reach. Both his hat and his cape
were hanging from the hilt, neatly folded and tucked away so they wouldn't get
dirty. He narrowed his eyes for a moment as he tried to decide if he would be
able to stretch enough to reach his sword without having to dig himself out.

A light touch on his cheek startled him, twisting his neck around to find
Galen sitting against the root-wall with her shapely legs stretched out. She
smiled softly at him as she continued to stroke his cheek, a look of relief
plainly evident in her liquid-like eyes.

"So you're awake," she said softly. "You had me worried for awhile, D."

((That makes two of us,)) a quiet voice spoke up a moment later, causing D
to clench his left hand by reflex. He said nothing as he looked away, quietly
cursing himself for being such a fool for trying to press on after exerting
himself so much in the sun. Bad enough that he had collapsed from exposure to
the sunlight, but now he was both vulnerable and essentially at her mercy. And
in her debt....

"Here, you need to drink this," she said as she hefted a simple copper
goblet, holding it out to him. She sighed quietly at the look of suspicion in
his eyes and leaned over to set it down in front of him. "What, do you think
I'd go to all the trouble of bringing you here and burying you, just to wait a
few hours for you to wake up so I could poison you? Drink it."

He glanced down at the offered goblet, blinking at the crimson contents.
The smell of fresh blood registered on his nose a moment later, followed by the
taint of something else mixed with it. He carefully picked it up, sniffing at
it intently to see if he could identify what that other smell was.

"D?" she said in a weary tone of resignation, causing him to look up at
her. "It's just rabbit blood mixed with mulling spice. Give it back if you
don't trust me or don't want it. Junior there wasn't easy to catch, and I'd
rather not let his blood go to waste," she said, making a gesture to what was
in the covered roasting pit.

He studied the look in her eyes before nodding in resigned acceptance. He
took a cautious sip from the goblet, pausing as he realized that the contents
seemed to have been warmed. The blood was hotter than it should have been,
even when drawn fresh from a living artery, and the distinct flavor of the
mulling spice made it a very unusual taste experience.

His eyes closed of their own accord as he savored the blood as one would
a fine wine, able to feel the strength creeping back into his body with each
sip of the crimson nectar of life. He could tell that it had been drawn from
a youthful source, overflowing with energy and vitality. The young ones were
always the best, he had heard many a vampire comment during his travels, not
soured with the blood-fat that infants had or having had time to harden and age
like cheese as the blood of adults did....

He almost reflexively spat out a mouthful of the spiced blood at the mere
thought of taking blood from an infant. He swallowed and set the goblet down,
the faint shudder of revulsion effectively quashing any desire for more. He
glanced down at it before picking the goblet back up again, swirling it around
gently before holding it up higher to Galen.

She blinked in surprise at the gesture. "D, you sure you don't want the
rest of it?" she inquired, eyeing how much was left inside the copper vessel.

"It was enough," he replied quietly. "Thank you."

"If you insist," she said as she accepted the goblet from him. She gently
swirled the contents around again before taking a deep sip, sighing softly in
relaxed contentment as she savored the taste. "Mmmm, that's good. He was so
small, I didn't want to waste any of his blood by sampling it first. Hopefully
that means he'll taste just as good when he's finished roasting."

"How did you catch him?" D inquired, the hunter in him slightly curious
about how one went about catching something that tended to be very small, was
easily spooked, was highly agile, and ran extremely fast.

"Point-first," she replied with an amused twinkle in her eye. She made a
gesture to the gleaming rapier that was leaning against the far wall next to
her boots. "One of the advantages of using a piercing weapon like a rapier.
One simple thrust and you've got your prey. Very little loss of blood, and if
they're light enough you can simply carry them back like a large skewer. Oh,
you could probably take a swipe at a rabbit with a sword like yours and even
manage to tag it hard enough to count, but only if you don't mind having some
of the meat being shorn off and probably spilling most of the blood."

D said nothing as he continued to look around the small underground room.
He realized that his instinctive feeling of depth had been caused by the fact
that they were below-ground to begin with, and that being buried in the pit
just made it seem like he was deeper than he should be. "Where are we?" he
asked quietly, casting an appraising glance at the exposed roots of the tree
overhead.

"My own little world," she replied coyly, her tone causing him to cast a
slightly uneasy glance in her direction. "It used to be a large rabbit warren
when Mikhail and I first discovered it during one of our forest trips. We had
it hollowed out into a sort of.... I wouldn't call it love-nest, but it was a
place where we could snuggle in privacy when we wanted to," she explained with
a faint blush. "I used to come here whenever I wanted to get away from the
castle or just be alone. You're the first person I've taken here since his
death," she added, her tone growing soft. "And that was quite awhile ago."

He gave her a simple nod of understanding as he continued to look around.
The ground had been hard-packed to the consistency of stone, making it unlikely
that anything would try to tunnel into the chamber from deeper underground. A
small barrel was tucked away in a corner, almost completely hidden by the thick
wall of roots. A slender pipe ran above it to disappear into the 'roof' of the
underground room, probably used to collect dew or rain-water.

"That's technically my bed you're in, in case you were wondering," she
added casually. A soft chuckle rose up from her chest at the look on his face,
her pale blue lips unable to suppress a gentle smile at his discomfort. "It's
been awhile since I had to use it, however. I learned that sleeping attached
to a living tree is just as refreshing for me as spending a few hours buried in
the soil. A small but important bonus for having Barbaroi blood," she purred.

"Useful," D commented quietly.

Galen smiled at him as she drained the last drops of spiced blood from the
goblet, setting it aside on a small bench-like shelf of packet dirt that jutted
from the wall. She looked like she was going to say something when there was
a gentle popping sound from the roasting pit, a large volume of steam wafting
up in a large cloud a moment later.

"Mmm, that sounds like our little friend is ready to join us for dinner,"
she said, giving him a coy look before standing up to cross the room. "I hope
you aren't allergic to rabbit-roast or anything," she said as she carefully dug
up the edges of the pit cover, leaning back as a veritable wall of steam rushed
out at her.

He remained silent as she extracted two bundled packages from the glowing
coals and embers of the roasting pit, leaving the covering off to let the heat
warm the room for a few minutes. The leaf-wrapped and obviously hot portions
were carefully untied and sorted out into their mess-kits, resulting in two
fairly large piles of steaming meat and a few assorted steamed vegetables.

"Sorry about having to use your mess-kit like this," she apologized as she
leaned down to set the tin pan and stainless-steel utensils down in front of
him. An accidental glance up at her provided D with a momentary view down her
blouse, clearly able to see the super-soft curves of her unrestrained feminine
anatomy. He glanced away a moment later, trying hard not to blush by reflex to
indicate that he had seen anything and thus embarrass her.

"I'd offer you the plates I keep here, but it seems that I forgot to put
them back in storage the right way the last time I was here," she continued,
apparently unaware of the accidental exposure. "Lichen grows in the damnedest
places," she added with a faint blush of embarrassment.

"Thank you," D said, not bothered in the least at having to use his mess-
kit to eat dinner. It was slightly awkward to try to eat when the pan was only
a few inches lower than your mouth and you were buried up to your armpits in
dirt, but he did his best to enjoy the hot meal regardless.

Galen sat down by the edge of the pit beside him, stretching her legs out
as she had when he first woke up. Neither bothered to make any attempts at
conversation for awhile, both deciding it was best to simply enjoy a meal that
tasted a lot better than the dried trail rations they had relied on since
leaving the Cha'laka Hive.

They were half-way through the meal when she got up and went back over to
the other side of the room. D watched with idle curiosity as she retrieved a
heavy clay jug and a short stick from within the barrel of water. The jug was
hung from a small hook on the end of the stick and carefully lowered into the
still-smoldering pit, creating a truly large hissing cloud of steam. She then
quickly unhooked the stick and pulled the cover back over the pit, settling the
matted leaves into place. A steady stream of super-hot water vapor promptly
started to rise up from the small hole in the center, making it seem like one
of the many vents he had seen while traveling through a volcanic region.

"I like warm wine with dinner," she explained as she returned and noticed
the faintly intrigued look on his face. "It should be finished heating up by
the time we're done eating."

He said nothing as she sat back down and resumed eating, quietly wondering
what the hell he was going to do now. She had saved his life twice, first on
the bridge and now saving him from his own foolish stupidity and the burning
light of the sun. To even think of killing her now would be unconscionable,
not when he owed her so much. But at the same time.... her blood was just as
contaminated as his was by the taint of vampirism. She would have to die if
he was to free the world from that foul stain on the soul of humanity.... but
at what price?

It was his honor that had kept him going for so long, that set him apart
from the other dunpeals he had met. They hadn't cared for the lives of humans
one damn bit, mere pawns to be used in the game of life, used as cattle for
food and labor only to be cast aside when their usefulness was over. It was
his sense of nobility that kept him going, not in the sense as the veneer of
elitism that the vampire lords used among themselves, but in the virtue of his
character, the purity of his purpose, the integrity of his word. He kept his
word and only promised what he knew he could and would deliver.

But to kill Galen now would be one of the most dishonorable things that he
could do. Yes, they had been enemies on the bridge, but circumstances since
then had changed that. She had bound herself with a blood-oath, staking her
honor and even her life on her promise. He was bound by his own honor to the
other terms of the oath, to escort her to her mother's grave-site. Striking
her down before then hadn't even remotely crossed his mind, but once their
journey was over and they were both released by the conclusion of the pact....

He glanced up as he felt her fingertips brush against his cheek, a rather
gentle caress that sent just the tiniest of shivers down his spine. She was
looking at him with a curious expression, those liquid-like eyes narrowed just
slightly as she focused on whatever emotions he might have had on his face.

"Something on your mind, D?" she asked quietly. She tilted his head up
when he looked away, very gently pulling his chin towards her so that there
would be no easy escape. "You can tell me, hunter," she purred.

"It's nothing," he said calmly, giving up the battle and keeping his eyes
focused on her exotic beauty. A distant part of him made note of the fact that
the soft blue color of her lips was completely natural, answering a question he
had idly wondered about earlier.

"Seems awfully heavy to be nothing," she chided gently, tilting her head
at a slight angle. "Granted a case of heat exposure will give a dunpeal a lot
to think about, but something tells me that this isn't the case here."

He sighed quietly through his nose, knowing he was both physically and
verbally trapped with no easy or graceful way out. "Let's just say being in
this sort of position doesn't sit well with me," he said frankly, keeping his
voice free from any negative influences that might have upset her.

A delicate blue-green eyebrow arched up in what could have been amusement,
intrigue, curiosity, or any combination of the three. "And what position might
that be, hmm?" she inquired. She continued to study his expression before a
small light-bulb went off, causing a soft smile to slowly spread across her
face. "Oh, I get it now," she said in a silken tone. "You're upset that you
had to be saved instead of being the dark knight who usually does the saving,
isn't it? It's okay, hunter, your secret is safe with me."

"I never doubted it wasn't," he replied calmly. "You haven't given me any
reason to doubt that you are a woman of honor."

"Thank you," she said, a new kind of smile briefly crossing her face at
the compliment. "Well, if it isn't a matter of your honor or mine, then what
is the problem? Mmm, nevermind, you already told me," she added with a faint
sigh. She glanced over at the column of steam coming from the roasting pit
before a new thought came to mind. She cast a sidelong glance at him before
slowly turning to face him, a slightly predatory gleam starting to form in her
liquid eyes.

"D?" she asked very slowly, watching him react to the tone of her voice.
"You're not upset that I saved you, are you? Mmmhmm," she purred to herself
as he suddenly glanced away. "I think I can see how that would pose a bit of
a problem for you. Here you are, letting me go see my mother one last time
before you kill me, and all of a sudden I end up saving you from a fatal case
of sunburn. Honor can be such a cruel bitch at times, don't you agree?"

He shot her a dark glare as she spoke that last sentence, suddenly not so
sure about her after all. They both knew that he did in fact owe her his life,
and that if she decided to make a demand of him that he would feel honor-bound
to comply with her request. Only up to a certain point, granted, as there were
a few things honor couldn't compel him to do, but there was still a fair amount
of leeway to be had in what he would allow himself to do if so demanded.

She looked at him before sighing quietly to herself. "D, I already told
you this once, I will not make demands on you for such a thing," she said in a
slightly flat tone, able to clearly see the thought passing over his eyes. She
had to suppress a hollow grunt of amusement at his look of relief. "But I have
to admit, I am.... tempted," she added, letting her voice turn coy again.

((Here we go again,)) a muted voice said in his mind, spoken so softly that
only the mental component could be heard. The voice promptly fell silent as D
pressed his hand against the ground as discreetly as he could, not wanting to
cause a scene by disciplining it in public.

"I hope you don't blame me," she purred as she edged closer, leaning down
slightly as she ran her fingertips along his jaw. "How many women do you think
would just love to be in my position right now? Imagine, being trapped in a
small underground room with a legend, one who can't run from you, can't escape
your touch...."

A fairly strong icy chill ran down D's spine at the change in her tone,
setting off a quiet alarm in his mind. It wasn't the first time he had been
exposed to such a thing, the whimsically playful whisperings of a woman who was
in a mood for something a little more substantial than casual conversation.
The part of his mind that usually dealt with the hyper-fast dynamics of combat
suddenly spun up, trying to analyze the situation he was in and hopefully find
an honor-saving way out of it.

He was physically unable to move away from her. He could lean back to
indicate that he wasn't interested in whatever she wanted.... but that would
not only be rude, but possibly a bit of a lie as well. Her touch was far from
an unwelcome one as it traced his chin, but it was at the same time something
he still couldn't bring himself to openly embrace. He could all too keenly
remember Leila's touch, caressing him as Galen's hand did now, and all that it
had led to in short order.

Would that really be a bad thing? he found himself thinking. It wouldn't
be bad in the sense that he wouldn't enjoy it.... far from it. Part of him was
worried that he would enjoy it too much, but that was a whole different issue
altogether. No, the bad part he was truly worried about was the sheer conflict
of interest that would arise once their journey was over. If he yielded to her
now under these circumstances, how could he expect himself to be able to kill
her? Being able to live with himself afterward wasn't the issue, as that only
had to last for a few moments before the blade could be turned on himself and
that would be that, but he would have to strike her down first....

And deep down inside, whether from his human heart or hybrid soul or from
some new place he hadn't discovered yet, he knew that he really did not want to
hurt her for any reason. She didn't seem like any of the other dunpeals he had
met, she actually seemed to care about others who weren't like her.

The scene with the bartender back at the Hive sprang to mind. Yes, she
seemed to give the impression that she was ready to rough him up if he didn't
give her what she wanted, but at the same time it seemed that her only intent
was to break through his xenophobia and bias against outsiders.

Then there had been the bandits, two humans who seemed to be lacking a
little common sense. He had no doubt that any other dunpeal or vampire would
have killed them where they stood for having the audacity (or stupidity) to
attack them, maybe even making one watch while the other was drained of blood
just for sport. But she had let them go with only a warning and a painful
lesson learned, giving them a second chance to perhaps find a new path to walk
in life.

No, her actions were not like the evil whims of the others. That clearly
made her different from them, different enough that he would have to have a
very clear justification for killing her. And after saving his life twice, he
simply couldn't think of any possible reason to wish her harm. Indeed, part of
him once yearned to find a kindred soul, to have something close to a friend
who could understand him and his way, his choice that really wasn't a choice.

But could Galen be it? That desire had died out a very long time ago,
starved to death when encounter after encounter with his own kind had eroded
all hopes of finding someone else like him. But still.... perhaps there was
still a spark of that left, a tiny seed buried within the depths of his soul,
his humanity. Both had only recently been touched in his life, and both by
women he had come to love....

He blinked and refocused as she tilted his head up slightly, those soft
blue lips seeming to edge even closer to him. He could tell what was going
through her mind, wondering where things would go if she leaned over just a
little more. He also knew that if he allowed it to happen it would make the
situation even more chaotic than what it already was, and at this point that
was saying an awful lot.

Question, the combat-oriented part of his mind finally said. You're in a
situation you well and truly can't figure out if you should remain in or not.
Time is not in abundant supply, and if something isn't done soon the balance
will be shifted to one end or the other, and that will be awfully hard to try
to undo once it happens and the results are not to your liking. You don't want
to act, but not acting isn't an option. So what do you do? Simple....

You stall for more time.

"Galen?" D murmured as she edged even closer to him. He winced as his
voice sounded more than a little husky, made slightly raw by stress but easily
mistaken for something else entirely.

"Yes, D?" she breathed softly, almost too softly for him to hear. Those
soft lips were dangerously close to him now, being only a simple gesture away
from making contact with his skin and possibly even sealing his fate in a way
he probably wouldn't be able to imagine on his own.

"The wine is boiling," he said as calmly as he could manage. His breath
promptly jammed in his throat with anticipation, wondering just how she was
going to react.

She blinked in surprise at his words, perhaps having expected him to say
something either positive or negative and caught off-guard by the statement.
She cast a sidelong glance towards the steaming vent, turning her head to fully
focus her attention as the faint whistling sound registered on her mind.

"Damn," she said quietly. Whether it had been a muttered curse or a soft
sigh of disappointment wasn't clear, but it was enough to break the electric
tension of the moment. "Thanks," she said as she quickly stood up and darted
across the room.

D couldn't help the heavy sigh as his breath suddenly exited his lungs.
It was all he could do to keep it silent, watching with mixed relief as she
carefully hooked the heat-blacked jug with the stick and lifted it out of the
burning embers. A soft hissing sound filled the air as the clay jug was dunked
in the barrel of water, cooling the external temperature down by at a couple
hundred degrees.

He paused as he felt a funny sensation in his hand, flipping it over to
look at the mass of wrinkles in his palm. He watched as they opened up just
a fraction, letting him see the look of disappointment on the thing's face.

((You're a wuss, you know that?)) it muttered softly.

"Stay out of this," D whispered back, hoping that Galen was too busy with
the heated jug to hear either one of them.

It rolled its eyes before the face seemed to melt back into his hand, a
quiet snort of contempt echoing inside his mind. ((Fine, have it your way,)) it
said before the voice fell quiet.

D looked up as Galen returned, holding a pair of wooden goblets that were
filled with a steaming liquid. She knelt down next to the pit and leaned over
to set it in front of him, causing him to avert his eyes to avoid a repeat of
the earlier accidental exposure. "Thank you," he said quietly as he reached
out to touch the goblet. It was decidedly warm to the touch, the gentle wafts
of steam rising up from the amethyst liquid warning him it was probably still
too hot to drink.

"Sorry about that," Galen apologized as she sat down, putting her own
goblet aside for the moment. "It's a little hot right now, so we'll have to
wait a few minutes."

A faint chill ran down his spine as she glanced at him for a moment, her
blue-green eyes quickly moving down to stare at her goblet. She seemed to sigh
as she picked it up, very gently swirling the steaming liquid around as she
lightly blew on it. "D.... I want to ask you a question. About what happened
when you were chasing Meier Link and Charlotte," she said softly.

She kept her gaze focused on the amethyst wine, waiting to see if he would
reply to her. She sighed softly when no response was forthcoming, disguising
the action as a gentle puff on her wine to try to cool it down a little more.
"Why did Charlotte go with him?" she finally asked in a quiet tone.

"She said she loved him," he replied, suddenly feeling tired for some odd
reason. He briefly wondered if there had been something in the rabbit blood
or the roast that was making him feel so weary, but he soon realized that it
was only the weight of the memories from that particular incident. That, and
the memories of what it eventually led to with Leila....

"What do you think it was?" Galen asked, gingerly bringing the goblet to
her lips. It was apparently still too hot for her liking, however, for she
edged it back down without tasting the overheated wine. She looked over at him
as she felt the weight of his puzzled look. "I mean, do you think that she
really did love him enough to let herself be kidnapped and carted off?"

He looked away, fixing his gaze on the faint column of heated air rising
up from the open roasting pit. "I believe so," he said quietly, remembering
how Charlotte had called out to Meier during their first encounter.

She nodded and looked down at her wine again, softly blowing on it once
more. "What about Meier?" she asked. "It's pretty obvious that humans can
fall in love with vampires. You and I are both proof of that, thought I can't
quite say the same about all the other dunpeal births."

D said nothing, not needing to be reminded how many other dunpeals had
been born. Human women tended to be the vampire's favorite prey, regardless of
the sex of the vampire. While a vampiress would usually have little interest
in the sexual capacities of their female victims, the males were another story
altogether. He had rescued more than one human woman who had been an unwilling
victim of a vampire's lustful attentions. Of course, saving the ones who had
willingly gone to bed with them and were later made to regret their decisions
tended to result in far worse consequences....

"How do you think Meier felt about her?" she asked softly, finally risking
a sip of the heated wine.

It was not a question he could easily answer, not having been able to find
a satisfactory answer for himself. He had heard the grief in Meier's tone when
he had held Charlotte's lifeless body, grief genuine enough to cause Leila to
stay her finger from the trigger of her pistol and not blow the vampire into
the afterlife. D didn't doubt that Meier was deeply saddened by Charlotte's
loss, but at the same time he still had his doubts that a vampire like Meier
Link had enough of a soul in him to truly love. D's father hadn't seemed to,
despite the radiant, almost blinding love his mother had for him, and her love
had been about as powerful as it could get.

"It's possible," he finally said, almost too softly to hear. He couldn't
have answered with a definitive yes-or-no response, as he truly didn't know for
sure which one it was. The easiest solution would have been to ask Meier Link
himself what his feelings had been, but given the fact that he had gone up to
the City of the Night and was now so much stardust with the rest of the City's
countless inhabitants....

"What's possible?" Galen asked, lifting her head up to give him a confused
look. She had barely heard his muttered words and wasn't sure what he meant.

He glanced over at her before looking down at his own goblet of wine. "I
suppose it's possible that Meier loved her," he said before taking a cautious
sip of the wine. A deliciously warm sensation flowed across his tongue, the
gentle flavor of the mulled wine blending in perfectly with the aftertaste of
the rabbit roast. He could tell that the wine was a little more potent than it
should have been, part of the water having been boiled away to concentrate the
heavier liquid that remained.

She said nothing for a few moments as she sipped at her wine, her gaze
slightly unfocused as she thought. "D?" she said softly after taking a slow
and subtle breath. "I have a confession to make...."

The goblet was almost to D's lips when he heard her soft-spoken words,
resulting in a near-spillage of the hot wine. He cast a brief sidelong glance
at her before setting the goblet back down, not wanting to be in a position to
embarrass himself by venting the liquid out his nose should her words shock him
or otherwise take him by surprise.

Galen sighed quietly and looked down at her own goblet, swirling it around
in a gentle circle. "I never stopped to wonder if.... if it was possible for
us to fall in love. It just never crossed my mind for some reason, nor did I
ever try to seek it out. But now that I've met you and I know such a thing is
possible...." She paused as she turned her head slightly, just in time to see
a classic 'deer in headlights' look on D's face before he recovered. "D?" she
asked carefully, her brow furrowed slightly with confusion at his reaction.

He slowly drew in a deep breath before he looked up at her, praying very
hard that he had simply misheard or misunderstood something. "Us as in who?"
he asked as calmly as he could manage.

"As in our kind, of course," she replied carefully. "Why, what did you
think I...? Oh," she added in a whisper as she suddenly realized how her words
could have been taken.

D blinked as a truly violent blush seemed to explode onto her cheeks, the
bright red coloring standing out in very stark contrast to the paleness of the
rest of her skin and the blue-green coloring of both her hair and her eyes. He
said nothing as he looked back down at his wine, deciding it would be best to
indulge in a deep drink of the super-warm liquid. It was intended more as a
method of buying time than quenching his thirst, but he found the taste to be
pleasing nonetheless.

The awkward silence hung between the two of them like a heavy veil, keenly
visible for what it was but neither one in any great rush to try to get beyond
it. Galen tried to swirl her wine around in the goblet and almost sloshed it
over herself, sighing quietly as she realized that her hands were starting to
become unsteady for some reason.

"D, tell me about the women you've loved," she found herself blurting out
in a quiet tone. A momentary anxiety attack gripped her chest a moment later,
threatening to cut off her breathing entirely. What the hell am I thinking?
she thought to herself, trying to take a sip of her wine and barely able to get
the goblet to her lips without the tremors in her hand spilling any.

She sighed and looked over at him as she heard only silence, seeing him
staring down into his half-empty cup with a haunted look on his face. Her left
hand reached out to him of its own accord, very lightly brushing the back of
her fingers against his cheek. "You already told me about Doris," she added
quietly. "Please, tell me about the other one, the one who helped you realize
that you loved Doris."

He lifted his head to look at her, his face composed in a neutral mask of
unreadable emotions. His eyes, however, spoke quiet clearly of the depth of
his personal pain and sorrow at the memories. "Why?" he asked simply.

She sighed yet again and looked down at her amethyst wine. "D.... I'm
starting to like you," she admitted quietly. "When I look at you, I don't see
just a hunter or a dunpeal, I see.... pain. Sorrow. Loneliness. Part of me
wants to reach out to you, to ease that pain, that sorrow, that loneliness. I
already told you that my worst fear is to be utterly alone, and yet.... yet you
seem to feel that you already are and have been for some time. I want to know
how you've managed to survive that for so long and still.... and still be so
human," she whispered, looking up at him.

"I know what you mean about the others being different," she continued.
"How the other dunpeals acted towards those who weren't their kind. I know
what you mean about.... having something deep inside, something that doesn't
like what you see, something that won't let you do as they do. When I look at
you past your armor of isolation.... I see something I like, a spark of life
that I haven't seen before. I want to know more about it, just in case...."

"Go on," D said gently, closing his eyes as the heavy weight of his entire
existence settled around his shoulders once more.

"Just in case that's what's inside me as well," she finished softly. "I
look at you and I think that.... maybe I've finally found a kindred spirit, a
person I can relate to and not just understand but be understood as well. I'm
asking you to tell me about your past, about what you've done and experienced
and felt, simply so I can try to learn more about myself. If someone like you
can love, D.... then why can't I? All I want to know is what to look for."

He said nothing as he looked back down into his goblet, trying to study
the transient reflection amid the amethyst ripples. It seemed that the tiny
waves cleared out for a moment, just long enough for him to clearly see the
reflected look of his own eyes. The amount of pain visible made him cringe,
wondering just how much of it she had been able to see earlier, pain that he
felt deeply ashamed at being unable to keep to himself and thus not burden her
soul with worries or concerns.

"Her name was Leila," he said softly before taking a deep drink of the
wine. He didn't care if the impulse had stemmed from a desire to absorb as
much of the alcohol as possible to dull the pain of simply speaking her name
aloud or if he simply didn't want to look at his purple reflection anymore.
"She was a vampire hunter as well and had joined the Markus brothers in their
attempt at rescuing Charlotte from Meier Link."

Galen said nothing as she listened to him tell the entire story about the
failed rescue, about how he had bandaged her shoulder after her solo attack on
the carriage and all that had happened between them since. She closed her eyes
as she listened to the quiet, almost inaudible recount of what happened while
they were trapped by the sandstorm and how they helped one another reawaken not
just their humanities but the gentle fires of life and love that had been all
but forgotten in their human souls.

The very end of his story almost made her cry, quietly describing how he
had kept his promise to Leila. It wasn't the sentiment of bringing a bouquet
of flowers to her grave that finally sent a single tear down Galen's cheek, but
the quiet conversation with Leila's grand-daughter and the explanation of why
the promise had been made in the first place. And, as he departed, the full
realization of just what Leila had truly meant to him after all.

She gently reached out to him once his soul-weary voice fell silent, her
hand holding his in a gesture of support, comfort, and understanding. She knew
that there couldn't be any words that would make his pain any easier, able to
see the dark and haunted emotions reflected in his eyes as he stared at the
root walls, looking at the present but seeing only the past.

The little wine that remained in their goblets had long cooled to room
temperature before either one of them finally moved, Galen squeezing his hand
tightly as she leaned over to rest her head on his shoulder for a moment. "D?"
she asked very quietly, the softness of her breath faintly tickling his ear.

"It's late," D said quietly in his usually somber and reserved tone.

"And?" she countered with a faint hint of amusement. "We're both night
people, it shouldn't bother us."

"We still have a lot of traveling to do in the morning," he replied, not
looking over at her. "You should try to get some sleep."

She sighed quietly, almost flooding his ear with her breath before turning
her head aside at the last second. "And what about you?" she inquired as she
squeezed his hand again. "You going to be alright during the day? We can stay
put until you're rested and travel at night if you want."

"I'll be fine," he reassured her in a calm, if somewhat hollow tone.

"I don't want to see you get hurt," Galen said, her voice barely more than
a whisper as she looked at him. She stared into his eyes as he turned to look
back at her, part of her wanting to scream as she saw that the walls were back
up once again.

"Galen...." he started to say.

"I don't want to be alone," she breathed. "I don't want to be the last of
my kind. I'd rather take my own life than have to be the last."

He truly didn't know what to say as he studied the look in her liquid-like
eyes. Part of him wanted to reassure her that her fears wouldn't come true,
that it wouldn't ever come to that. But at the same time.... he couldn't make
her that promise, couldn't tell her that it wouldn't come to that. Their blood
was cursed with darkness, and the world needed to be free of it forever. They
would both have to die when this was over. There simply wasn't another way.

Time suddenly seemed to turn to an icy gel without warning, moving along
at a dangerously sluggish pace as she leaned forward to brush her lips against
his. It was a very light and hesitant contact, as if she wasn't exactly sure
she knew what she was doing, but it sent a curious surge of warmth through his
body even as the chilling shock flooded his veins.

She edged her head back slightly, studying the look in his eyes. "D...."
she said very softly. "I.... you're.... you're my only hope now," she said,
her voice fading away entirely as she leaned forward to very softly and gently
kiss him again.

D struggled hard, not against her or the softness of her lips, but against
the sudden loss of the sensation of time. He simply had no idea of how long
their lips remained in contact with one another, not really kissing so much as
brushing together as lightly as one could and still feel the touch. Her lips
finally backed away, the information from the rest of his senses rushing back
into his conscious mind hard enough to physically stun him for a second.

"Wake me in the morning?" she asked softly as she sat back, seeming to be
on the verge of tears for some reason. A faint hint of a smile crossed her
face as he simply nodded to her, clearly unable to remember how his voice box
worked at the moment. "Good night, D," she whispered as she rose to her feet,
silently making her way towards the wall opposite the exit ramp.

He said nothing as he watched her grab a thick root that ran the length of
the ceiling. He couldn't have said anything if his life depended on it, his
mind in total chaos as he watched her hands and feet start to darken and gnarl,
hugging the ceiling tighter as she dug in. Her cape folded around her a few
moments later, taking on the color and texture of tree-bark as it molded and
hardened into a cocoon-like shell that only left a long tuft of blue-green hair
visible.

((D?)) the thing spoke up a few moments after the cracks and snaps of the
morphing cape had fallen silent. ((I can feel the shell-shock from here. She
didn't zap you with anything in that kiss, did she? D?))

"I'm fine," he rasped, closing his eyes as his voice seemed to physically
grate against the back of his throat. The last mouthful of tepid wine left in
the goblet seemed to ease the sudden dryness, the alcohol seeming to burn like
liquid hellfire on contact before the sensation abated.

((Right,)) it replied, clearly not believing him. ((D, listen....))

The voice fell silent as D turned his hand around, giving the thing a look
that would have frightened anyone who saw it. "I will not say this again," he
said in a very low tone, his lips pulling back to expose the edges of his sharp
fangs. "Stay out of this."

((Alright,)) it said in a tone of heavy resignation. It remained quiet for
a number of moments before adding, ((Oh, and about that just-drown-the-parasite
advice she gave you earlier? It'll take longer than twenty minutes, so don't
get your hopes up.))

It took him a moment to calm down long enough to think rationally. "So
how long would it take?" he asked.

A soft sigh echoed in his mind as it drew in a quiet breath. ((Stop and
think about this one, okay? How many times have you taken a dip in a river or
a pool or whatever for longer than twenty minutes and I didn't say a word? So
either I'm different than the symbiots she's met or she doesn't know what she's
talking about, as I can take in a LOT of air if you give me a moment. Trust
me, holding my breath is easy.))

"How long?" D repeated in an eerily calm tone.

((You really want to be rid of me that badly, eh?)) it said in a voice that
is best described as terminally depressed. ((Honestly? Probably a good twelve
hours or so. Less if I'm surprised, more if I have time to really prepare.
And I think we both know just how difficult I can make life for you during that
entire timeframe,)) it added darkly. ((Question for you, though. Why now? You
never really seemed to want to get rid of me before. Well, aside from when I
would needle you for a reaction, but that was to be expected. Finally reached
your limit, D? Or am I no longer of any use to you now that you've killed all
the vampires and just have Galen left to deal with? I'm waiting,)) it prodded
as D remained silent. ((If nothing else, you owe me a truthful answer. After
all, I've saved your ass plenty of times before, so there's that little....))

"Enough," D said quietly as he closed his eyes.

((So what are you going to do with her, anyway?)) it inquired. ((If you had
the balls to listen to me, you'd realize that I can help the two.... !!!))

He didn't even bother opening his eyes to look, instead simply slamming
the palm of his hand down on the hard-packed edge of the pit. The thing made
a soft psionic grunt as a wedge of dirt wound up in its mouth, taking its time
in chewing it up and swallowing it. It remained silent after that, apparently
getting the hint that its dunpeal host really wasn't kidding about not wanting
to hear it try to help him deal with Galen.

D sighed silently as he tried to make himself comfortable, not an easy
task given the fact that he was solidly buried up to his armpits in soil. Not
that it was so packed down as to render him immobile, but it was just enough to
ensure than he wouldn't be moving anywhere without a concerted effort. He
finally settled for tilting his head back slightly, resting his neck on a sort
of incline that had been made in the burying process.

He could almost taste the super-light kiss that lingered on his lips, the
sensation seeming to haunt him just slightly. The gesture had taken him by
surprise, not that he wasn't expecting her to finally do so but that he had
been too busy thinking to pay attention. Again.

A deep sigh rose up from his chest as he remembered the last time he had
been caught off-guard by a soft kiss. Leila's image rose up to fill his mind
once more, teasing him with the memory of her gentle touch, her soft kiss, and
the warmth of her body surrounding his. She had lured him to her, called to
him, seduced him, left him panting for breath among the ashes of her satisfied
lust.... and her love. Doris had opened his heart to expose his humanity, but
it had taken Leila's touch to pry that open and bathe it the warmth of love.

And now Galen.... what was she doing? What part of him was she trying to
reach out to, to awaken, to hold? Or was she simply doing what she said, using
him to examine herself, listening to his words, his pain, and his past? Would
it be bad for him to let himself be used so? He would be cast away once his
usefulness had ended of course, but still.... that's how it worked, right?

But.... Galen wasn't like the others, was she?

And Leila had certainly shown him that being used wasn't always bad....

The shroud of thoughts continued to swirl around him as the quiet tug of
the earth's comforting grip on his body drew him down into the realm of sleep
and dreams, part of him smiling quietly at the memory of Leila and all that she
had meant to him. And still did.