The blond hunter groaned in sheer delight as she sank into the water. Nothing beat a hot bath, and the oversized porcelain tub was enough to make her melt into a pool of contentment. And after this, she could fall into a soft bed; heaven on earth. The room even came with a sliver of pale, sweet-smelling soap.

Leila leaned back against the rim of the tub, wondering if she could talk D into letting her travel with him further. Technically this was the next town, but she didn't feel like waiting a month for a lumber train, and going on by herself was also a no-go. She was brave, not stupid. They still had a few more days to Bosdale, less if he traveled as fast as they had coming to Aristol.

As she seemed to do more often of late, the woman used this quiet time to think back on her companion. Twice before the Elborn contract, Borgoff had cut off a hunt, stating simply that 'the dhampir' had taken the job. There was only one dhampir that she knew of who hunted his own kind, so she didn't bother asking which. The second time, she asked why they didn't go anyway: most people who hired Hunters hired more than one. Borgoff just smiled at her and said, "If they've got this one, the contract's as well as done. He's never left a job unfinished."

Vampire Hunter D. The dhampir who hunted his own kind was a legend among bounty hunters and normal folk alike. The man who never quit a contract, who liberated whole regions from vampires. The stories she'd heard were always from someone's grandfather's grandfather, if not further back. It made her wonder how old the dhampir was in the first place. He looked no more than a day of twenty-five, but that was no indication of his age. Once, she'd asked him what he thought some ruins were peeking above the treeline; tall, thin columns with bits of arches still clinging to them

"The resort of Midvale," D said absently, his eyes skirting to the columns and back. "This area used to be a resort for vampires, stretching to Lake Chiffon. A place where they could pick out the best humans to be their entertainment."

The ruins, by anyone's estimation, were more than five thousand years old.

Maybe he's five thousand years old, she thought, lifting one pale, sculpted leg free of the water and running a wash rag down its length. Who knows, maybe he was here long before the Big III, meaning the third world war; the atomic holocaust that turned the world into what it was today. Unless she got up the courage to ask him, she'd never know.

Thoughts of D brought a tingling heat that settled in her groin, and Leila sighed, one hand sliding down her body to play with her slick folds. If she didn't stop this, she'd end up embarrassing herself, or getting thoroughly laid. Experience told her it would be the latter, but common sense said the former. D didn't look the type to let himself go easily. Besides, she'd thrown herself at him once without affect.

She braced one leg at the end of the tub, using the added leverage to rock against her hand. A virgin she wasn't, nor did she have reservations about her desires. A Hunter's life was short, and you took pleasure where you found it. Still, the thought of the dhampir thrusting into her, pressing her into the mattress with his weight, was kinky for her. She did not fantasize about vampires, period.

The water began to move with her as she rocked, some of it sloshing over the top of the tub, but Leila didn't notice. She was caught up in an image of D, fangs extended and eyes glowing red, as he thrust into her. A small moan escaped her, then another, as her other hand pinched her nipple, palming the heavy weight of her breast. She could imagine that hidden strength, the feel of him as he struggled not to hurt her, and it made her want him more. A finger slid inside her damp channel, followed by another. She imagined the feel of his fangs as they broke the skin of her neck, the sharp prick as the delicate membrane parted under razor-sharp canines…

Leila's orgasm burst without warning, tensing her muscles and wrenching a loud moan from her throat. She shuddered, the thought of D feeding off her through her pleasure heightening it, until she fell back into the water boneless. It wasn't what she wanted, but it was close enough when you couldn't get your hands on the real thing.

Somewhere, deep in Leila's mind, she was resolving how to solve this latest problem.

"That could be you in there."

D clenched his hand into a fist. It took everything in him not to burst into the bathroom, throw Leila against a wall, and fuck her senseless. His original plan of using the varied smells ever-present in a town this size was failing miserably. She was still there, beneath it all.

You know, I do have other ways to talk to you, the voice was thready, faint, and D scowled. His symbiote didn't like this means of communication; the dhampir's mind was too alien for easy going. Go to her, she wants you.

The door to the bathroom opened, and Leila stepped out wearing her towel, skin flushed. "Water's all yours," she said, then paused.

D was considerably less dressed that he had been. The long travel cloak hung on a hook, along with his hat. The dark body armor, paper-thin and hard as beaten steel was nowhere to be seen, revealing a thin shirt. When he didn't reply she walked over to the bed.

"You can sleep there tonight," the dhampir said before she could ask. "The floor works for me."

"We could always share, you know," Leila said, then wanted to bite off her own tongue. What in the hell was she doing? "We're both adults."

D didn't turn around, but she swore she saw a slight stiffening of his shoulders. "I'll stick with the floor."

Leila shrugged, half disappointed, half grateful. While his back was turned she slid naked onto the sheets, sighing at the feel of starched linen against her skin. "The next train through here doesn't come for another month. Don't suppose you'll let me hang with you until Bosdale?"

"You can travel with me until we reach Elborn, then you're on your own." The symbiote said something, but D tightened his hand into a fist, effectively smothering him.

"Great." Leila settled into the blankets a yawn stretching her features. A Hunter had three basic setting: eat, sleep, and shit. Getting any one of those to work was like flipping a switch, and Leila fell asleep less than a minute after her head touched the pillow.

D watched the sleeping woman for long minutes, then headed down to the saloon. The room was full, but he paid no notice to the stares he received. After taking a booth in the very back he ordered a steak, and made sure the dazed waitress told the cook only to sear each side for fifteen seconds; just long enough to keep people from staring at him while he ate.

"I still say you should go up there and let off some steam," the symbiote muttered, the sound lost to all ears but D's. "She practically invited you. At least this time you're genuinely attracted to the woman, not just fulfilling a bodily function."

"She doesn't know what she's asking."

"The hell she doesn't! Sounds to me like she's asking to get some action, plain and simple."

The dhampir didn't respond.

"I know what you're problem is, Mr. Big-Bad-Vampire-Hunter. You're scared you'll get attached to her, that you won't want her to leave once you get to Elborn. Hell, you could have saved yourself the trouble and dropped her off in Bosdale in two days, instead of taking another week to get to New Verim. Face it, D, this time you want to get attached, and that's what's really bothering you."

In the dim light of the saloon, no one could see the faintest of flushes start in D's cheeks, or see the slight movement of his lips. "Tomorrow I'll pick up the pace. We can be in New Verim in a day and a half."

"And then you can sleep for a week while you recover from using that much power. And you'll still want her just as bad as you do right now. How's this for a plan: use her as much as you both want, then go your separate ways once you get the money. Easy, simple, and no one gets confused. Like she said, she's a big girl, she knows the rules."

The symbiote went silent when the thirty ounce steak was placed in front of the dhampir. D waited until the waitress, a pretty thing with red hair and green eyes, sauntered off before starting to eat. His stomach recoiled at the taste of cooked flesh, but stopped once the taste of fresh blood overpowered the first bite. The cut was good, slaughtered earlier in the day, and did wonders to relieve the worst of his hunger.

If only other hungers were dealt with so easily.

"They are, you big idiot."

D held the knife in his left hand, tightening his grip. Later, when the washer examined it, he saw what he swore were fingerprints pressed in the hard pewter.

Leila was on her feet before she recognized the sound, hands reaching for her gun. Finding the holster hanging on the bedpost empty was enough to shake off the last dregs of sleep. The noise started again; the sound of a heavy hand hammering on wood. "What the-"

A shadow moved through the gloom towards the door, throwing the lock before opening it a crack. "Sheriff." D's impassive voice echoed in the silence.

"We need to talk."

The Sheriff walked into the room as D turned up the kerosene lamp, eyes going wide at the sight of Leila standing naked by the bed. "Interrupting something?" he asked humorlessly.

"Not at all."

Leila quirked an eyebrow, then sat on the bed and wrapped the sheet around herself just slow enough to let the man know she was doing it for his sake, not her own. She could feel him studying her, though. Her body bore the signs of her work; scars mapped out in pale lines, some thin, others thick and raised. Her eyes strayed to her gunbelt when she noticed his hand resting on the butt of his gun.

"You have some business with us, or you wouldn't be here," D said.

The man glanced between the two of them then heaved a sigh. "There's been an attack. A woman near the east end of town."

"Noble?"

The Sheriff's mouth twisted. "If it wasn't I wouldn't be here." His eyes turned to D. "Convenient that it happens when a dhampir appears in town."

"He's been here all night," Leila informed the Sheriff.

"I can't afford to believe someone whose already suspect, ma'am." From his tone, he probably wouldn't even believe her if D wasn't.

While the two spoke the dhampir moved quietly through the room gathering his supplies. "Where's the victim now?"

Brown eyes narrowed. "You're not even gonna try and convince me you're innocent?"

D was in his body armor, his long sword strapped and hat in place. He took his time gathering up the rest of his materials. "I'm innocent, Sheriff. Whether or not you believe that is your business."

The reply took the other man off-guard, and he turned around. "She's in Doc Samson's house right now. Center of town. I'll show you when she's dressed."

The door closed.

"We should have stuck with the road," Leila said as she pulled on her body armor. "It's better than putting up with assholes." She couldn't help but feel a little guilty; coming here was her idea. She was just about to zip up the red suit when D's eyes came to rest on her, freezing her in place. "What?" she asked through a throat gone suddenly dry.

"They might ask to see proof that you're really my donor," the dhampir said. "If you have no marks, they'll know it for a lie. Getting out of here will be hard enough without that."

"He means he wants to take a bite of-" the rest of the words were smothered when D tightened his fist.

Leila tried to banish the flash of molten heat that went through her, and failed. He was going to bite her. D was actually going to do what she'd been fantasizing about. "You gotta do what you gotta do," she said. When had her voice gotten so small?

The dhampir approached her, and Leila became aware of several things. Like just how much taller than her he was, and how his eyes shined in the lamp light. Just breathe, she told herself. Amazing how hard that simple action had become.

"I wont do this again," D told her, voice quiet, soothing and ringing with promise. He reached out, right hand cupping her head and tilting it ever-so-slightly to the side.

Leila closed her eyes.

Moist, warm breath ghosted over her jugular, then the sweep of his tongue. She moaned despite herself, hands fisting in D's cloak, silk tendrils of hair brushing her knuckles. The pain was short, sharp enough to bring Leila to her toes. Then her muscles went lax as pleasure crashed through her, knuckles white as she held on, trying not to be swept away.

It lasted forever, and not nearly long enough.

When D stepped back, Leila swayed with him, eyes fighting to refocus. His hand went to her neck, and she felt a peculiar rippling of the skin there. She turned questioning eyes to D, gaze lingering near his nose.

"He's making the wounds look old and repeatedly made," the dhampir explained.

The thought of that creased face on her swept away the contentment laying heavy in her limbs. Less than twenty seconds later the hand was removed, and she swore it was smiling. Her hand went to her neck.

D turned away from the woman before she noticed the red blaze of his eyes, pretended to busy himself with his saddlebag. More! The cry was almost undeniable; to feast on what was so readily given, to have her screaming beneath him. D breathed in slowly, savoring the taste of her.

"Ready?" Leila asked when she had herself at least partially under control.

The trio made their way through Aristol, the storefronts and houses dark. Most people in the Frontier went to sleep with the sun, and rose with it as well. Even in the safety of thick walls, Frontier people wouldn't feel safe unless they were in their own homes, doors and windows shut tight against what might be lurking in the darkness.

Doc Samson's house was a single story structure standing on a slight rise, the other buildings leaning away from it. A single large cross was freshly nailed to the door. If the people didn't know a vampire attack had taken place, they would come morning.

Samson was a stooped, crooked old man, his eyes dark chips in a lined face that took in the three of them before stopping on D. "I suppose you're the one who's gonna catch the thing," he said shortly. "Well, come in. She's in the back."

Leila's eyes ghosted over the room. Tile floors, walls scrubbed to bleached whiteness and a steel table sitting empty under a tall lamp told the room's purpose. There were muddy tracks on the white tile, leading further into the house.

'The back' turned out to be a windowless room, its door studded with silver crosses. A safe room, built to protect a survivor from other vampire attacks. The dhampir sniffed as they approached, catching hints of wolfbane and white oak. Someone had put a lot of effort into making the room impervious to vampires and their helpers.

"The guards found her lying face down near East Gate," the Sheriff said to no one in particular as the doctor threw the iron bolt. "We've been all over the wall, there's no sign that someone forced their way in, none of the guards saw anything."

The room was brightly lit; a woman curled on her side in the center of a cot, dark hair obscuring her features and spilling in a chocolate wave to the floor. Her apron was dingy white, splashed with mud, as were the arms wrapped around her knees. She tensed as they approached, fingers curling around the edges of the bed. The doctor and sheriff fell back, leaving the two hunters to approach on their own. The smell of urine was rank.

Leila pursed her lips. The attack must have been ended before it really started. The fingers clutching at the cot were pale, but not bloodless. Most victims fell into a stupor of sorts after being attacked, unable to move of their own will, something this woman was doing just fine.

D approached the girl. "Leave us alone with her," he said over his shoulder, leaning over her.

"So you can finish her off?" The sheriff scoffed.

There was the sound of flesh hitting flesh. The doctor had smacked the man next to him on the head. "And prove he's the one who did it in the first place? We slam that door and he's as good as stuck, Tim." The two shuffled their way out, the door closing with a hollow thud behind them.

"Now that those two jokers are gone," came a gruff voice. "Let me get a look at her."

D placed his hand on the girl, who had backed herself into the corner and was trying to appear as small as possible. She flinched when the hand settled, then went still. "It's not a vampire," he said.

"'Course not! She'd be dead, or a lot closer to it than this. Probably a night flyer readying for mating season and getting a little midnight snack. Sorry, big guy, no bounty here. Unless you want to go after the nest and save them the trouble, which they don't deserve, by the way."

The dhampir pushed the hair back from the girl's face. She was plain, her eyes wide and glazed with fear. He rested his right hand against her forehead for a moment. When she buried him Leila had glimpsed a thin black cross tattooed into the palm.

"Still don't trust me after all this time?" The symbiote sounded genuinely offended. "The day I can't tell a vampire victim from a bug bite, you can cut me off without protest. Those yokels wouldn't have thought twice about it if you weren't here."

Leila agreed with the hand. Night flyers were pesky, bat-like creatures that usually fed on livestock or other animals. The amount of blood they took was not enough to kill, and the wounds were easily confused for those Noble made if you didn't look at the state the victim was in."

"I… I tried to say it wasn't a Noble… but they didn't believe me…" the girl's voice was reed-thin, eyes flicking from D to Leila. "They locked me in here and wouldn't listen."

The blond hunter frowned. Being attacked by a night flyer was frightening. The creatures could grow up to four feet, and choose to swoop out of the sky and cling onto their victims. Scared the piss out of her, she thought. "They'll let you out now."

The two men outside were harder to convince.

"We haven't seen night-flyers for years," the Sheriff said.

"The girl can tell you herself that I'm not the one who attacked her. That should be sufficient." D's voice was cold, emotionless.

The doctor's eyes went from the dhampir to Leila. "You're his donor?" The question was gruff.

She nodded.

The little man barely came to her chin, but he crowded her like someone twice her size. For the first time she was grateful the Sheriff had taken her weapon, or she might have been tempted to use it.

"No strain in the eye capillaries," he said to himself. He reached up, pulling down her lower eye lid. "A little pale, but no real signs of anorexia. She's certainly not submissive."

"Some men like a little fight in their women," she said condescendingly.

Dark eyes narrowed. "Unzip." He ordered.

Leila did so, revealing the bite on her neck. "Satisfied?"

Keen eyes examined the two puncture wounds, pushing and pulling until a thin stream of blood trailed down her neck.

He sat back on his heels. "She's been fed on recent, within the past hour or so, which puts him out of the time frame for Mary."

"We told you, it's night-flyers." She zipped up. "Take care of them, or you'll have a lot more 'vampire' victims when mating season kicks in."

Thank you everyone for reading! Special chocolate coated D goes out to Kitala, Melly, Demmie, and Pheonix521 for their reviews! I love you guys : -)