Well, I know this isn't the most popular of books, but I love it to death and I've always wanted to write a fic about it. D is just so amazingly sexy…okay, but before I go on a rant about how much I love D, I've gotta say thanks for reading this and thanks for giving it a chance. I promise it'll get really good (or at least I myself think it will) cuz I already have it all planned out. So stick with me! I promise you won't regret it. R&R.
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The girl awoke to the sound of a saddle being strapped into place. Rising up on her elbows, she blinked blearily in the morning light as her eyes focused on D.
The dhampir Hunter was strapping his longsword onto his back. The golden sunlight danced merrily upon his flowing black hair, then scampered onto his cloak for a race to the leaf-spattered earth. Muscles rippled beneath the leather riding outfit, sliding fluidly against one another as their owner gave the straps one last tug.
The girl, finding herself unwittingly mesmerized, shook her head sharply and stared stubbornly off over his shoulder. She felt his eyes turn upon her; she stared harder, determined to make her defiant expression belie the flush rising on her cheeks.
"Are you ready?" D asked quietly.
"No," she growled. "I'm not going."
"You get on first," D ordered, as if he hadn't even heard her. He caught and held her gaze with two blazing pools of night. "I'll ride behind you. What's the name of your village?"
Taken aback by this show of utter indifference, the girl was forming the harsh, stinging reply in her mind when she heard herself say, "It's called Lairen. It's a couple miles west of here." She felt herself climbing to her feet, and no matter how much her brain screamed for her to stop, she approached the waiting horse and took the hand D extended to her.
D lifted here easily onto the saddle, then swung up behind her and took the reigns.
The girl twisted around to give him a look of utter hatred. "I hate it when you dhampirs do that," she grated.
D said nothing. Giving the reigns an expert flick, the horse sprang forward and headed down the path. The sudden movement forced the girl to grip the pommel; D's hand reached out to steady her, but she snarled and slapped him away. Without giving any sign that he felt the small smack, D continued to lead his horse toward the village.
Realizing that her ill-tempered manner would do nothing to deter the dhampir from his quest, the girl blew out a sullen sigh and slumped in the saddle, determined to cause him as much trouble as possible as he hauled her back to the village. D barely seemed to notice. Black eyes fixed only on the road ahead, he guided his horse expertly towards their destination.
After about ten minutes of riding in surly silence, the girl finally flicked another glance over her shoulder. "So tell me," she said in a voice that was almost – if not quite – amiable, "why are you so hell-bent on taking me back anyway?"
"You have a connection to the Nobility."
The girl slapped the pommel. "So does everyone on this God-forsaken Frontier!" The somewhat friendly voice dissolved into an oozing pit of resentment. "Why take special interest in me?"
D deigned to meet her gaze; despite her undesirable situation, she felt her rage begin to ebb away. She narrowed her eyes further, if only to convince herself that she was indeed still angry.
"You are the only human I've known to drive a stake through her own heart," he replied. Was that a shadow of a grimace on his face, or was it just the way the sun filtered through the crisp summer leaves? The girl couldn't be sure. With a toss of her black hair, she faced forward once again.
"And I take it you intend to find out why," she stated loftily. "Well, good luck with that. There's no way in hell I'm telling you."
D didn't reply. They came to a fork in the road; the dhampir Hunter cast her a quick glance, and, after a moment of wrestling with the inability to refuse him, she nodded to the leftmost path, gritting her teeth against a scream.
The village rose slowly out of the sun-dappled trees. Shining chrome roofs sparkled in the morning light, casting gleams of merriment onto the faces of children scampering to and fro about the street. Here and there a man led a cyborg horse across the pavement, or a woman dressed in faded jeans and a t-shirt would call across a fence to a neighbor. Power lines formed an orderly cobweb just above the shimmering rooftops; the town buzzed with activity.
The girl paled at the bustling sight, barely concealing a gulp behind a cough as she steeled herself against some unnamable emotion. Sliding from the saddle, she favored D with a crude smile.
"Thanks for the ride," she said sarcastically. "Now that I'm back in hell, I shouldn't have any more problems. See you later." Turning on her heel, she started down the road.
D watched her go, then turned his gaze to the busy town. Upon the girl's arrival, an eerie hush had fallen over the village. Men averted their gaze, women whispered fervently behind their hands, and children stared with round, unabashed eyes after the girl who was making her way as haughtily as she could manage down the road.
Frowning ever so slightly, D swung easily from the saddle and alighted on the well-trodden ground. The sound of his boots hitting the sidewalk turned a few heads, then, after the girl had disappeared into a dwelling on the far end of the street, every eye was fixed on the dhampir Hunter.
D's sharp ears picked up the whispers that rippled through the villagers as the leaned in close to talk to their neighbors.
"Is that Draco?"
"No, I think that's a different one."
"Man, Sylva has a knack for attracting those freaks."
"Aw, give the girl a break – it wasn't her fault her family's bizarre."
"Where the hell were you yesterday? Drunk under the table again? Didn't you see the whole incident with that other vampire?"
"There was another one? Damn, they just crawl out of the walls!"
His face an emotionless mask, D approached the man closest to him, who paled visibly and took a step back as the ghastly aura washed over him like a tidal wave.
"My name is D," he said calmly. "I'm a Vampire Hunter. I'd like to ask you a few questions."
The man eyed him suspiciously. "I like to consider myself a trusting man," he said slowly, "but anyone arriving with Sylva – whether they be vampire, human, or God knows what else –"
"What does that girl have to do with the Nobility?" D interrupted. His voice was icily soft, but it thundered in the man's head as if he had screamed. The man began to stammer.
"W…well, it's kind of a l-l-long story, and I-I'm s-sure you're qu-quite b-b-busy…"
"I'll decide what I do with my time," D returned.
The man mopped his forehead. "R…right," he muttered. "Well, you see, it all started just after Sylva –that's her name – was born. Her mother, though a kind and g-gentle woman, was always a bit odd. Even though she was the wife of a wealthy merchant from the Capital with more than she could ever dream of having, she was never content. She would spend her days gazing out the window of her drawing room, a sketch pad in her lap and a pencil in her hand, and draw for hours and hours – always of the same man."
D narrowed his eyes. "I don't have time for stories," he said coldly.
"I-it's not just a story," the man protested. "It has everything to do with the girl's current situation. You see, the man her mother was drawing was a vampire – a local Noble by the name of Count Alexander Rune."
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R&R!
