Leila didn't have time to prepare. One moment she was testing her skimpy stew, wondering just how much salt she could spare to make it palatable, the next she was dodging to the side, instinct the only think keeping her from being decapitated. She twisted as she moved, hands going to her sidearm. The moment her back touched ground she aimed and fired.
The mutant roared, but advanced, and she found herself scrabbling backwards. Talons, that's what it was; a creature that seemed made of nothing but talons and fangs. She fired again, the recoil knocking her flat, and hissed when her hand landed in the firepit. Her fingers spasmed, released their hold on her gun as she pulled them free. She kept moving and used her uninjured hand to throw her knife.
The creature roared, its talons turning inward to remove the silver projectile. Leila stumbled to her feet and turned to run.
Silver flashed.
The mutant froze, then split apart like a rotted melon, the talons and fangs falling away to reveal a ball of solid muscle. Leila cradled her hand to her chest and turned around. D was standing between her and the mutant, sword drawn.
"Are you all right?" he asked, his voice low, dangerous.
"Good enough," she said, eyes turned to the fire pit. Her gun was half in- half out of the flames, the barrel glowing red. "Shit!" she kicked the weapon free of the fire. Perfect, the one night she chose to reserve her fuel and make a normal fire, she dropped her gun in it.
Before she could recover the weapon a hand wrapped around her wrist. "You're injured."
She shrugged. "It's just a burn."
His hand moved up, and forced her fingers to unclench. The palm was an angry, slick red. Guilt, an emotion he seldom felt, poured over him. "I shouldn't have left you."
Leila blinked. "I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself."
Gray eyes glinted at her words. "I'll remember that."
As the vampire hunter bandaged her hand, D buried the creature. One mutant in nine days was fairly good. He'd expected more around the Countess's castle, but guessed she'd drained them of blood long ago to sustain her spirit.
The dhampir examined the creature briefly. Whatever it was, it took two direct blasts from Leila's gun, a weapon he knew could tear foot wide holes. It was a hearty mutant, built for power and speed, and probably not the last now that they were in the Reaches. He couldn't afford to leave Leila alone again, not unless it was necessary.
They started early the next morning, more to get away from the shallow grave than any desire to move closer to their destination. Leila took out her goggles and smiled.
"There's a town eight miles west of here where I can stock up," she informed him. "Lumber town, good size, but fairly isolated. It's another half-day to Aristol."
D nodded once. He knew the town, had stopped there when it was little more than a fort lost in the wilderness, but that was over a century ago. "We can make it before sundown."
Leila sighed. "A hot bath, real bed. I hope this place has an inn."
The dhampir was quiet. If he was lucky, no one there would question him about his skin, and he could bed down in a stable. If not, he might be spending the night in the woods alone.
"Scoot forward."
"What?"
"Scoot forward."
When she did as he ordered, D swung into the saddle behind her, trying to ignore the way her ass pressed against him. "We'll make better time if we both ride," he breathed before kneeing the mecha-horse. The sooner they reached the town, the more muted her scent would be, washed away by other odors. He could have a small amount of peace, at least.
For the first time while traveling with her, he allowed his powers to take hold and increase their speed. Most vampires had the ability to warp reality in this way to some extent, a gift that when added to their speed allowed them to -- seemingly -- appear and disappear. Now they were flying along the Northern Road, the hooves of his horse barely touching the earth.
Aristol was much larger than he remembered. The small collection of two story wood buildings huddled together in the Reaches was now a fairly bustling town, though it was still surrounded by a large, wooden wall that towered fifty feet overhead, dotted at intervals with watch towers. Vampires might be on the decline, but mutants and other animals were as prevalent as ever. As they approached a hollow gong sounded, and three men appeared at the narrow main gate, each holding a rifle.
Leila shifted in the saddle, her hand going to rest on her gun.
"State your business, strangers," the largest of the men said, rifle slanted over his forearm. He was six feet tall, an axe-handle wide across the shoulders, and made of solid muscle. Four puckered slashes ran across one cheek, teasing his lip and trailing across his nose His voice was amiable, but there was an edge to it that spoke of barely restrained violence.
"We seek room for the night, and supplies," D answered smoothly. If the female hunter was surprised he was turning their supply stop into an overnight visit, it didn't show.
The man studied them, and Leila gritted her teeth when his eyes lingered on her breasts, a smirk pulling at his features. They stayed even longer on D, though, and the man's dark eyes narrowed.
"You'll have to store you arms with the sheriff," he told them. "Don't worry about finding him, he'll find you when you settle down." He nodded once, and the two men behind him moved out of the way.
They rode through the tall gates and into the town. Lumber was a booming industry, and the tall hardwoods of the Reaches, while difficult to harvest, were a lucrative source of income. Steelewood, as hard as it's namesake and useful in construction, abounded in the area. One great tree, thousands of years old and hundreds of feet high, could make a dozen houses almost impervious to fire.
Aristol's main street was lined with shops, some boasting products from as far away as the Capitol, most specializing in particular goods. People walked along the unpaved street, crisscrossing in front of carriages. There was no air of fear, no solemn quiet that haunted the villages D normally came to. Everyone was bustling, lively, and it filled him with a strange apprehension.
He shouldn't be here, not without reason.
"Something wrong?" Leila asked, and D blinked, a gesture that was akin to a gasp of surprise in someone else. When had the woman learned to read his moods?
"I'm fine," he answered, halting them in front of a livery.
Twenty dallas later, saddlebags in hand, they walked into the Courier. The interior of the rooming house was brightly lit, the pitted and gouged floorboards swept clean. There were no windows, just narrow slits through which shafts of sunlight came through. If it weren't for the raucous laughter coming from the attached saloon, it would have been peaceful. The proprietor, a tall, lanky man with water-clear gray eyes and matching hair greeted them with a faded smile, eyes darting to her sidearm and D's sword as he slid from behind a chest-high counter.
"Just in time, travelers," the man said. "I've one room left, what with the season at it's height: good sized, private bath. A hundred-fifty dallas a night, a good price for the last room in town." He stopped short of the dhampir. No doubt used to towering over others, he came no high than the half-breed's eyes.
A low chuckle drifted up from D's palm. "We'll take it," he told the man, giving him the coins. Leila bristled at his casualness. She didn't need him looking after her.
"Good! Excellent!" the shorter man ran behind the counter, picked up a key, and led them further in to the building. "I've despaired renting it out," he rambled as they climbed a worn staircase. "Most of these roughnecks will room three or four to a bed to save some money; 'til their damn near coming out the windows if you let 'em, cheap as they are. Rather spend their money on liquor and women."
The room was at the end of a narrow hallway, the door carved with delicate filigree that D hoped was simply decorative. When the innkeeper threw the door open and stepped inside, proud as you please, the dhampir fought the urge to turn around and walk out. Two large windows let out onto the street below, the beveled glass streak-free and inlaid with enameled crosses. The room was spacious, an old-fashioned fireplace dominating one wall while a bed took up the other.
A single, largebed.
Once before, the dhampir known as D called on the spirits for assistance. Then his mother lay dying, and he pleaded with ancestors long since turned to dust to give him the power to change her; prayed that his father would come and turn her into one of them. Then, as now, he got a strange sense of amusement in answer; as if his ancestors knew exactly what was happening, and were laughing at him.
Leila noticed the way D froze in the doorway, halting for less than a second before walking into the room and setting his saddlebags down on a chest at the foot of the bed.
Just one bed.
Damn.
"Thanks," she said, snatching the key away from the gray-haired innkeeper. As if she needed more temptation when it came to her companion. "We'll let you know if we need anything." She could hear D throwing the windows wide open, followed by a blast of warm air.
The man was oblivious to the moods of his two customers. "The saloon downstairs serves the best food in Aristol day and night," he informed her. "True beef and chicken, no mutations."
"Still making that claim, Bors?" A new voice said behind him.
The hunter didn't need the metal star gleaming high on a lapel to recognize the man as the sheriff they were warned about. He was tall, tall enough to look D in the eye, his suit cut roomy for easy movement. A long sword hung on one hip, a Straight Shooter on the other. He was the only other man besides the two gate guards that she'd seen wearing a weapon, and held himself like he knew how to use both.
He glanced over her, gaze going to the gun on her hip before skipping to D. She knew he was noting the pale skin and height, the way his fingers ended in sharp nails and the layers of clothes he wore, despite the heat. Without turning he reached up and closed the heavy door in Bor's face.
"You know what I am," D said calmly as he drew several items out of the leather saddlebags, setting each one down precisely.
"Not like you're hiding it," the sheriff said in a gravel-rough voice. "Most people 'round here wouldn't recognize a dhampir, but I do." He nodded towards D's long sword. "Been a while since we had Hunters through here, over ten years."
"Just passing through, Sheriff," Leila said.
He nodded, his eyes still on the dhampir. "I don't need to tell you the rules, do I?" he asked with deadly seriousness.
The rules were usually the same in every town: no fighting, no making a nuisance of yourself, pretty basic stuff, but in D's case the blond was sure it meant something different.
"Your people are safe from me, sheriff." D hadn't turned, but there was something in his voice, so slight she could barely hear it, that made Leila bristle. It was resignation, old and patient, the kind that developed when you expected people to always believe the worst of you. What did the guy think D was, a mad dog?
Despite her anger, for the life of her, Leila couldn't figure out what made her say what she did next.
"I take care of him," she said off handedly, pleased that none of her emotions were present in her voice. "You don't have to worry about that." It wasn't unusual for vampires to have donors, people they would feed off of without turning them, when they couldn't afford to simply drain their victims. She didn't know about dhampirs, but she was sure she could bluff her way through. It wasn't like the sheriff would demand to see proof, was it?
Dark brown and gray eyes swung to her, and Leila pretended not to notice. Pretended, because she could damn-well feel the steel-gray eyes boring into the side of her head, and she fought the urge to fidget.
The sheriff darted a glance at the half-breed. "Good. Now, I'll need your sidearm, and that long-sword."
Leila fought the urge to look at her companion as she handed over her weapon. D took care of that sword like his own child, and would probably part with it just as easily. She wasn't surprised when the dhampir started forward, but she was surprised when the amulet he wore began to glow, rhythmic flashes passing over the surface of the sapphire pendant.
"I would prefer to keep it, Sheriff," he said calmly, face impassive. The sheriff wasn't looking at him, though. He was staring at the pendant.
"I can't…" he trailed off.
"I'll keep it in this room until we head out tomorrow," D told him. The flashes grew faster, coursing through the jewel. "You have my word."
"That'll be fine," the sheriff answered.
The pulses stopped, and the man looked at D as if nothing had happened. "See that it stays here, and keep your…woman… close. The roughnecks can get rowdy sometimes, and this place is full of them."
"I'll keep that in mind."
The sheriff tightened his grip on Leila's gun, then turned around. "Enjoy your stay in Aristol," he said shortly. "This'll be waiting for you when you head out, ma'am." Then he was gone.
D went back to sorting his supplies, and Leila stared after the sheriff. Now why couldn't he have done that trick for her, too?
"You didn't have to tell him that."
Leila turned around and walked to the bed. The sheets were dark gray, the better to hide stains, but the coverlet was crisp white lace, perfect for the warm temperature. "Tell him what?" she asked as she jumped on the soft surface. Ah, no sore muscles tomorrow.
D looked up at her, eyes narrowed. "That you're my donor. I have no intention of using you like that."
Did the thing in his hand just snort? "I didn't think you did. Just trying to keep the sheriff off your back, all right?" And why did the thought of him leaning over her, fangs extended, make her so damn hot? A month ago the same image would have filled her with loathing.
The female Hunter stood and stretched. "Well, I don't know about you, but it's dinner time, and I'm starving." With that she walked out of the room and headed for the saloon. Roast mutton, here I come.
D waited until her footsteps faded before he let his hands drift to the bulge below his waist, images of Leila on the bed in front of him dancing before his eyes. It didn't take long this time, not with her scent lingering in the room. Three more days, he thought as he came, fangs biting into his lower lip. Just three.
Leila came back to the room boiling. Not only was it a month before the next train was leaving for the Inner Territories, but she felt like a piece of meat walking through a den of wolves. If one more lumber jack tried to pinch her ass, she'd show them just how handy with a knife she was.
"Even Kyle knew when enough was enough," she muttered. And he was the biggest lecher she'd ever known.
She should have known by the way the noise dimmed when she walked in the room that there would be trouble. Frontier towns as a rule had more men than women, and it showed. There was hardly a women she'd seen who was over fifteen and escaped being pulled into someone's lap, or fondled when she walked by. The first man who tried that with her ended up with his finger bent the wrong way, apologizing from his knees.
And why did men think that meant 'You can do better'?
If the food hadn't been so good, she would have walked out midway through, disgusted. Leila'd never been hit on so many times in her life, not at once. Nolt, Borgoth, and Kyle made sure of that. Having three hulking, dangerous looking Bounty Hunters around made sure she didn't get attention she didn't want. The whole time she kept looking to the stairs, hoping D would come down; if not to eat, then just to sit with her for a while.
I'm craving a dhampir's company. Losing the boy's must have made me insane.
As she walked down the hallway two giggling maids came by, starry eyed and whispering excitedly. She reached the door in time to see another leave their room, a dazed look on her face. When she caught sight of Leila, that daze turned to jealously, and she flounced down the hall to join the others. The three of them hurried down the stars, a giggling, whispering knot.
"What the hell is that about?" she mused out loud.
D was sitting at the small desk, his hands ghosting over a device Leila had never seen working before. Colors swam over a screen, and his fingers danced above a vermilion protrusion. Each twitch brought about something new.
She fought the urge to rush over and see what it was. Mechanical things were her forte, and she wasn't about to miss a great chance to see something obviously Noble made being used. Most of the devices she'd seen were centuries dead, or destroyed in the hunt. It had to be a computer of some sort, though she'd never seen one so small. It could have folded and fit into her belt pouch. "What's that?"
"A processor," the half-breed answered, hand never stilling. "I'm checking the bulletins for another job."
She smirked. If they boys were still around, they'd be doing the same thing. "You don't let yourself get any rest, do you?"
He didn't answer. Leila watched the flashing screen, information passing faster than she could follow, for another minute then turned to her bags. The door to the adjoining bath was open, and she had every intention of having a good, hot bath while she still could.
D suppressed a shudder when he heard the door to the bath close and focused on the screen in front of him. He could remember a time when there would be hundreds of bulletins, thousands. Now, he was lucky to see a hundred on a good day, less than half of which offered enough of a bounty to make his travel worthwhile.
The dhampir tuned to another net, this one in the language of the Eastern Continent. There were more listings here, vampires having fled north and east to escape the rising tide of humanity. Two listed bounties of over 20 million and he made a note of them, but none were the one he was looking for.
Once, over a thousand years ago, he'd almost had him: a tall man with delicate, almost feminine features who carried himself with a royal bearing that wasn't feigned. Perhaps the only true Noble to ever exist. He was beaten bloody, bones broken and sinews ripped, and told to return when he improved.
"Please don't tell me your thinking about sailing to Huang," the symbiote moaned, face turned upwards to read the screen. "It'll be just as uncomfortable for you as it is for me. There's still vampires here that need taking care of, no need to go chasing a big fish."
D ignored his hand and typed a reply to the posting. He'd check back in a few hours to see if the job was still open. Even if he didn't go for the bounty, he might go to Huang just because. Centuries had passed since he last sailed east.
Thanks for reading! Special thanks goes out to Kitala, demmie, Kidagakashantelast, pheonix521 and Melly for their great reviews!