Disclaimer: Neither Vampire Hunter D nor The Little Vampire belong to me. I am making no money from this fanfiction, and all recognizable characters, events, and locations belong to their respective copyright holders. All original characters, etc. belong to ISJ, and are not to be used without my permission.

Many, many thanks to my lovely readers and reviewers. Your comments are most encouraging, and your suggestions are all taken to heart. Individual responses are at the bottom of the page, following Chapter 3. Thank you again, best to you all, and a very hearty "slainte!"

ISJ

Chapter 3

Something woke D; it was not his internal clock. Instantly on alert, he opened his eyes wide under the brim of his hat, his vampire qualities sharpening his focus, but did not move. He kept his breathing even and his muscles relaxed as he strained his ears and perception to try and discover what had startled him.

He could feel the presence of others, detect their quiet breathing and the almost imperceptible rustle of their clothes. D could tell that Left Hand had smelled them; the parasite was quivering slightly, a symptom of alarm. Left Hand's creaky voice resonated in D's head: There are people out there...several of them; it's hard for me to tell how many.

I know, D thought back at the parasite.

They smell funny. They're not human.

Vampires?

No. Not Barbarois, either. They smell...familiar. Strangely familiar. I smelled that scent earlier on the wind.

Are they a threat?

Hard to say...they're just...watching you. They've been there for about five minutes, but haven't made a move for you in that time.

D did not reply, but stirred his limbs as if just wakening, allowing his hand to tighten imperceptibly around his sword. He sat up, tensing the muscles of his legs in preparation for a quick jump, if it was called for. Lastly, he pushed back the brim of his hat to get a look at his guests.

Almost immediately, he was forced to squint as blood red sunlight filled his vision. He bit back a cry and tilted his head to the side, away from the crimson sunset. Lights were popping spectacularly in his field of sight. Instantly, he readied himself for an ambush, sure that the intruders had planned on his being momentarily blinded to give them a chance to strike.

But no strike came. D blinked rapidly and raised his hand to shade his eyes from the sun, turning back to stare down the rise to the handful of hunkered, dark figures that stood, crouched, and sat ranged before him. Of their features D could make nothing, save for eight or ten pairs of eyes that glinted back eerily, eye shine catching the dying sunlight like the eyes of so many cats.

Parasite, D thought, freezing, are you sure they're not vampires? They have nocturnal eyes.

They're not vamps.

For what seemed like an hour, D and the strangers sat, completely still, staring at each other. The only movement was that of the dusty wind through their clothes and of the sun slowly sinking below the western horizon.

Finally a deep, gravelly voice issued from one of the shadowed figures (which one, D could not tell), shattering the thick silence.

"Are you the one they call D?"

D did not reply. Left Hand shifted nervously, and D pressed his nails into his palm to still the creature.

"I ask again: are you the vampire hunter known as D?"

A long, tense pause, and then, "I am. Who is asking?" D clenched his hand around the hilt of his sword, openly readying himself for a fight.

The foremost black shape in front of him lifted its hands in a placating gesture. "We mean you no harm, hunter. We wish only to speak to you."

"Who are you people? Show yourselves."

The figures all turned their heads to look at one another, and then the burly shape who had been speaking to D stepped forward, out of the shadow of the overpass and into the ghastly red light of dusk.

The sun disappeared just as the man revealed himself, and D lowered his hand to get a good look at his addresser. Tall and broad and rather hairy, the man was probably younger than middle age, but his face was heavily bearded and the skin rough with old scars. His clothes were rugged and old, dirty and torn. They looked to be made of animal skins. He held no weapon, though D saw a huge curved blade sheathed at the man's hip and a bandolier that carried several knives and supported a large battle-axe between the massive shoulder blades. D realized with a hollow sort of feeling that, should this man decide, for whatever reason, to exterminate him, there would be little D could do to stop him.

But, at present, the man's stern, weathered face wore what was probably its closest approximation of pleasantness. He held his bare, empty hands out to D as proof of his vulnerability. D was hardly assured: those burly, sinewy hands could probably tear his arms off even without a weapon.

"Hunter D," the man intoned. His voice was like stone--rough and ageless and somehow wise. Its undertone of kindness seemed genuine, anyway, so D loosed his grip on his sword. Marginally.

"We are wanderers who seek out others like ourselves," the strange man continued. "We are in search of a way to break our chains. We mean no injury to you; in fact, we have been looking for you for some time now. We are glad to finally have found you."

D eyed him dubiously. He disliked cryptic talk. "Who are you?"

The man sighed a little. "We, like you, carry a heavy curse. We seek the way to break it."

D's hand was back on his sword-hilt and the blade was beginning to glitter red just over the top of its sheath. "Foolish creatures, vampires, to sneak up on a vampire hunter under the guise of parley."

Suddenly, an iron grip seized D's arm. He whipped his head to the right and found himself staring into a pair of icy, disconcertingly pale grey eyes. A lean hand clasped his arm in a hold like a steel trap. D's eyes traveled the length of the hand and wiry arm to take in the tall young man who held him captive. The face was gaunt and deeply mysterious, emotionless. D wondered that the boy could have managed to steal up here unnoticed by him.

"I would not, hunter," the young man said, his accented voice cold and inhuman. "When we say we mean no harm, we do not lie."

"I cannot trust you," D hissed through clenched teeth, trying in vain to wrest his limb away from the man.

"You can, hunter. You must." This from the bearded man below, who stretched out his palms in petition.

"Why should I? Release me!" The first he demanded of the older man, the second he shouted at the younger.

"Let him go, Khayle."

A new voice, female, soprano and arctic. D half-turned his head to see the speaker as she slid from the shadows. The failing red light showed only a tall, thin woman, her hair bound away from her face, her form shrouded in a long cloak. She turned her face up to the young man and D could just read the lines of absolute command in her brow.

Khayle hesitated only fractionally, then released D's arm as though it were red-hot. Khayle all but scuttled backwards, turning his face down and away from the gaze of the woman.

"Hunter," the bearded man tried again, "you must listen, must trust..."

The woman interrupted him sharply. "Dragos, between your riddles and Khayle's posturing, you'll have the hunter convinced we're raving lunatics. He'll kill us all for vamps." She came to the foot of the graveled rise and stared baldly up at D. He looked back, unblinking.

"Hunter D, forgive my colleagues. Khayle is violently impulsive and Dragos unnecessarily vague at times, but we all have our faults. Even you, I'll wager. My name is Lissandra. We are not here to challenge you or give you a new group of enemies to worry about. We've sought you out because you are of our kind. Like you, I and my companions are the unhappy result of a vampire's seduction of a human."

D grew very still. He did not realize he had actually stopped breathing.

She took a step up the little hill. "We are dhampires, Hunter. We carry the curse in our veins just as you do."

"I...I did not think there were this many of yo--our number left."

"Oh, there are more than just us, Hunter; we were just lucky enough to have found you first." Lissandra cocked her head. "You did not think you were the last, surely? I would have expected better forethought from the great vampire hunter D. Your refusal to face facts has left you at a distinct disadvantage, I'm afraid. No, you aren't the last of the half-breeds, nor are you the only vampire hunter with vampiric blood flowing through your veins." She held out her hands, indicating her company in a sort of mockery of presentation.

"Here is the proof."

D was dumbstruck. In the past half-century, he'd seen so few of his own kind that he'd really believed them to be a dying class of society. In fact, he hadn't met another dhampire in the last decade. He'd really thought he was alone.

These people (madmen, they still seemed to him) had just proven him mistaken.

But just because they shared his plight did not automatically render them trustworthy, a fact this man Dragos seemed unaware of.

D clicked his long sword back into its sheath and looked back to Dragos, who was wearing a pleased expression. "So you, too, are dhampires. You still haven't given me a good reason to trust you won't slit my throat the second you get a chance."

Dragos' face was slightly hurt at D's words. Obviously, he'd hoped everyone was happy now. D resisted the urge to run the man through right then, not for any mutation of his blood but as penalty for his sheer stupidity.

Again, Lissandra stepped between her naïve leader and the hunter above. "You're right, Hunter, we haven't. Allow us to do that now.

"First of all, what are the possible reasons we could have to kill you? We could be highway robbers, except for the glaring fact that you are yet alive when a band of thieves would simply have killed you in your sleep. We might really be vampires, but then, how could we have stood out here, exposed to the sun? We might be bigoted humans..."

"You're no such thing!" cried D's Left Hand. "I knew I recognized that scent from somewhere! I've grown so used to the way D smells I failed to recognize the scent of unfamiliar dhampires. In that much, at least, you're telling the truth."

Lissandra looked momentarily perplexed, and D raised his hand, palm-out, to give the others a clear view of Left Hand. Some he could see recoil in mild disgust and horror, but Lissandra only nodded, apparently satisfied.

"Ah," she continued, "a parasite. Interesting company you keep, Hunter. But it knows we do not lie about our race, in any event. Now, as fellow dhampires, why could we wish you dead? Ah, we could be sympathetic to our vampire half-brethren--"

At this, several of her shadowy company hissed menacingly, angrily. Lissandra smiled grimly.

"But, considering our...distaste for that very association which makes us what we are, a liaison between us and our monstrous forefathers is not even a remote possibility. We are a group of people who wish to have nothing to do with the vampires who bred us; we're not about to help them by slaughtering one of our own kind, the most famous vampire hunter of all time." She spread her hands. "Any other probabilities that you wish to consider, Hunter?"

D was still, his piercing gaze focused solely on the woman below him. She held that stare, unflinching, unyielding.

"If you are who and what you say you are, woman," D murmured, "then I suppose I have nothing to fear from you. But your reasoning is not without holes; you have not earned my trust yet."

"Can we expect a suspension of hostilities from you, then?"

D considered a moment. "So long as you and your 'impulsive' friends stay in line, yes."

"Is it too much to ask an alliance of you?"

"It is. I ally myself with nothing and no one."

"Except loudmouth talking parasites."

"You shut your mouth!" Left Hand retorted.

"He has more than once proven himself useful and trustworthy, two things I can attribute to none of you."

"Fair enough. Will you allow me to at least explain the nature of the alliance I suggest?"

"I'm not interested in more companions."

"Hear us out, Hunter," Dragos asked him suddenly. "We have already proven our willingness to be peaceable. Just listen to what we have to say. We have spent a great deal of time seeking you out."

"You wasted your time."

Lissandra spoke again, and her voice had cooled several degrees. "You may be able to help us, Hunter, and we believe we may be able to help you. Will you at least talk to us? If you don't like what I have to say, you and your parasite may be on your way, and you may keep on waiting for a job that isn't likely to be offered, your money dwindling as you realize just how quiet the vamps are going to be for a while."

D looked at her. There was a vague smugness surrounding her. She knew she'd won.

D sighed, then leaped nimbly off the rise of gravel, stepping resolutely over to stand before Lissandra.

The woman, D's vampire night-eyes could see, was as stunningly beautiful as an icicle could be, her eyes dark and fathomless in a face sculpted from marble. In those eyes, D saw the wisdom and pain that came of a lifetime far, far longer than her youthful looks betrayed. She was studying him, as well, noticing exactly the same phenomenon between his face and eyes. After a moment, she silently extended her hand.

D paused, then clasped that cold, pale hand in his own.

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lucidscreamer: Thanks so much! Characterization is always so tough, especially with a lead character such as D who cannot, in the traditional sense, carry the story through a lot of dialogue. I will admit that this story has D talking quite a bit more than he does in Bloodlust, as you can tell from this chapter, but I have tried hard not to make him gabble unneccessarily. Hope this chapter meets your expectations!

Kitala: Thank you! I look forward to hearing from you again.

Duzzel: (laugh) Many thanks for your enthusiastic comments. When you say the first chapter is like something out of a storybook, I'm glad--that's the idea I was going for. ;)

Badgerlock: (sniff) Wow. Thank you, so very, very much for your lovely review that nearly made me cry! I am so happy you were pleased overall, and your comments and suggestions about my writing style were extremely pertinent and very much appreciated. Constructive criticism is the best, and yours was so helpful! --hug-- Thank you for reading, and I truly hope I do not disappoint you with the upcoming chapters.

To all my reviewers, a thousand thank-you's for your time and consideration. Hope you've enjoyed so far, and I hope you continue to read. Slainte!