A/N: Hello, another week, another update. Thank you for the follows so far, it's great to know people are reading my strange little imaginings. Hope everyone is staying safe and I look forward to doing this all again next week. As always, read, review and enjoy! :)

Chapter 4

'Prisoner? I thought you wanted to kill me?'

Lambert tilted his head to one side, regarding the strange girl in front of him. 'I did. But it appears you're allergic to the prospect, so I've got to think of another way to collect my bounty.' He took out a vial of swallow and knocked it back. Needed to get ready in case she tried to pull something funny.

The girl's arresting blue eyes narrowed to slits. 'So, you're a killer for hire. And you go after creatures like Mr Deer Head.' Lambert nearly choked on his potion when he heard what crazy Blue eyes had called the leshen. Mr Deer Head in-fucking-deed.

'In a manner,' he spluttered, 'yes. Although we call ourselves witchers, and I don't just kill monsters like that leshen.'

A little crease appeared on her brow and a blankness came into her expression. So, she hadn't heard of a leshen eh, and yet she had been hanging out with one like they were best drinking buddies.

'You kill humans too?'

Humans. The disassociation from the word spoke volumes. Lambert decided to take the indirect approach in his line of questioning.

'Sometimes.' He said, 'depends on the situation…and my mood.' At this he gave her a nasty grin. She baulked slightly at the sight but not as much as women usually did. Across the dancing campfire she gazed at him, her expression more curious than repulsed or hostile.

'Witcher.' She said, rolling the word around on her tongue. Experimenting with it.

'Yeah, witcher.' Lambert picked up a knife and speared a piece of cheese, pointing it at her lazily. 'Now what do they call you?'

He watched carefully as she shifted in her seated position, her wrists jangling against the restraints he had placed on her. The movement was natural and expected for someone placed in an uncomfortable position, but he saw it for what it really was. She was testing her bonds.

'I wouldn't try it.' He said. The girl froze immediately. 'Those shackles are made with dimeritium. Got them off a witch hunter I killed. You won't be able to use any of your abilities and its super effective against magical monsters.'

'Who says I'm a monster?' She quipped. The witcher paused, giving her a hard look.

'I've been doing this job long enough to know you're not human.'

She smirked back at him. 'But not long enough to know exactly what I am.'

His mouth twisted into a sour grimace. 'The continent is a big place. Quite reasonable I wouldn't have come across every abomination and goat fucking oddity out there.' Her smirk grew.

'Am I a…goat fucking oddity?' She asked, her eyes gleaming with amusement. Even through his building temper Lambert couldn't help staring at them, fascinated.

'Only you can answer that.' He batted back eventually, stuffing the piece of cheese into his mouth. He signalled for her to talk as he chewed.

'A very unusual interrogation method you've got going here. So far you've given me no reason to tell you what I am.' He glared at her, trying to finish his mouthful so he could talk again. The smirk morphed into a wide grin, her eyes sparkling with mirth. The disarming warmth of it made him stop mid chew and stare at her.

'Luckily for you I'm not one to be mysterious. I'll tell you what I am, oh great monster slayer, and then maybe you could help me.'

He finally forced down the lump of masticated cheese. 'Not going to help you. Trying to kill you, remember?' He meant it to sound like a threat but the more he talked to this strange blue-eyed girl the less attractive that outcome appeared.

'Oh right, sorry. Yes, kill me. But maybe once you hear my story you'll realise how pointless that objective is and help me instead.' This really wasn't going the way he had planned, but his curiosity was getting the better of him.

'Just fucking tell me will you. Are you a dryad, a hornless succubus, some sort of weird female djinn?'

She shook her head, the shit eating grin still fixed on her face. 'Nope, nope, nope. I am, in fact,' she paused dramatically, 'a demon.'

Silence fell between them. Only the crackle of the fire and the sounds of his horse grazing behind them filling the void. Lambert narrowed his eyes, his mouth pulling into a hard line. If what she said was true it meant one of two things; either he was in real deep shit right now and he was about to be slaughtered by a powerful demon that had been toying with him all along, or she really was a witch and had done a deal with a powerful demon and…yeah, he was in the shit either way.

It was an ongoing mission of his to not allow Vesemir's dreary lessons to dictate his life. Unlike his brothers, who revered the old coot like he was the oracle of all things. So far, he had managed reasonably well with only the occasional unwelcome nugget of wisdom dropping in when he least wanted it. Now he couldn't help but think of the old man's sermon on demons, even with the detail of his grumbling monotone delivering it.

Not much is known about demons. Some consider wraiths, hyms and sylvans to be demonic in nature, but in truth they are simply dark beings that inhabit our world. The word demon actually connotes something far deadlier. Mages have attempted to summon demons, extremely powerful beings from other worlds, and if rumours are to be believed, some succeeded. However, if you are ever unfortunate to encounter a demonic being on the Path, my best advice is to avoid them. These creatures are dangerous, intelligent and there are no certain ways to kill them. To fight a demon is akin to fighting a god.

Lambert stared at the girl sat across from him. Her knees were drawn up, her hands still bound behind her back and those big blue eyes staring back expectantly. She didn't look dangerous, or like a god, but when had anything been true to appearances in this line of work? The memory of her leaping towards him, black eyes and fangs bared, came to mind. From here on out he'd have to presume she was telling the truth and tread very lightly.

Remember when facing a monster that outmatches you; if you cannot run, watch your back, your flank but most importantly do not neglect to keep looking ahead.

Thanks, old man.

'A demon? That's quite a claim. Don't think I've met one of those before.' He kept his voice light and dismissive. The girl gave him a funny look before her grin faded.

'You're not afraid? Most people don't tend to cope very well after they find that out.'

Lambert tried to see the deception or trick in her comment, but when he looked at her face he saw a hauntingly familiar expression on it. Someone, who was extremely accustomed to being alone.

'No offence, but you're not the scariest thing I've ever encountered. Have you ever seen a botchling?' She shook her head, that confused look on her face again.

'I'm not from here, so I have no idea what any of those things you've mentioned are.' Realisation dawned on Lambert. Shit, why hadn't he thought of that before. She was from another sphere, that was why she was wearing odd clothes and kept looking at him funny. Also, he thought with an uncomfortable lurch, that backed up her claim to be a demon as they were not of this world.

'How did you get here? Did someone summon you?'

The demon girl blinked in surprise at his easy acceptance of all this. Obviously in her world magic and monsters weren't a common occurrence. 'I fell through a gateway. Not sure how it happened but one minute I was in London…a city in my world, the next I was sat on my arse in a dark forest and no way back. Out of nowhere this great big deer man shows up and tries to rush me but I growled at him and he disappeared. Then if that wasn't enough I run into a bunch of humans and before I can ask which way is out, one stabs me through the chest with a pitchfork. When I woke up they were still there and not very happy about me…well, not being dead I guess, but Mr Deer Head reappeared and distracted them so I could get away. Now it's been about a week I reckon and I still haven't got out of this forest or found a way to open a door to get home.'

She spoke in a rush, as if she had been waiting to tell someone what had happened to her for a long time. The witcher blinked slowly, his mouth hanging open slightly at the deluge of information. The girl blew out a breath, then smiled.

'Feels good to finally talk to someone about it. It's been a mad few days. So, can you help me get back? You seem to know a lot about demons and other worlds. You can always tell the villagers you killed me.'

Lambert scratched his beard thoughtfully. Things were getting muddy here, he was more of the charge in kill some nekkers, get the money, go, kind of guy. This contract was turning into one of the ones Geralt liked to take, that was if his stories were anything to go by. Having said that, he'd had more fun and excitement in the last few hours than he'd encountered in the past six months. Maybe he should help her. And maybe he should get his finger out his ass and start acting like a fucking witcher, not a village wise woman; here to answer all life's problems.

He put away his provisions and reassembled his amour. He'd tend to his stitches later once this was over. Blue eyes watched him silently as he stamped out the fire and readied his horse. 'You probably couldn't leave the forest because the leshen didn't want you to.' He said, conversationally as he secured his saddle.

'Huh.' She replied, 'that makes sense. He did seem unwilling to show me out when I asked.'

Lambert rolled his eyes, his back to her as he pulled on the leather girth. This demon, if she really was one, was very naïve. Nothing of the godly intelligence Vesemir had mentioned at the moment. Turning back round he made his way to the now dead fire, standing over the girl. She craned her neck, looking up at him in confusion.

'Get up.' He said, his tone abrupt. Using the tree to support herself, she pushed up and rose to her feet. Lambert noticed there was a slight shake to her knees as she stood at her full height, which was about level with his chin. Gazing down at her coldly he spoke in a commanding tone.

'I'm going to bind your hands in front of you. If you attempt to run I'll chase you down like I did before and judging by your shaking legs right now, I think I'd probably catch you.' She glanced over her shoulder at him, her eyes a shade darker then they had been a second before.

'You're not going to help me then?' Wordlessly, he undid the dimeritium shackles he had placed on her wrists. She dropped her arms limply, keeping that stormy gaze of hers fixed on him as he circled around then indicated for her to hold her arms out in front of her. Slowly she complied, her mouth a thin, tense line. Having secured her again he took out a length of rope from his bags and tied one end to the pommel of his saddle. The other he fastened to the restraints. Checking the knots would hold, Lambert took hold of his horses' bridle and clicked his tongue. He kept his back to the demon as they began to walk through the woods. He could hear her light footfalls following behind him and his horse, and although it was hard to detect, he could hear the slight unsteadiness in her steps.

They continued in silence for a while, the girl's eyes burning a hole in the back of his head. If Lambert had been a more chivalrous man…or Geralt, he might have felt guilty at his decision to turn the demon over to the villagers. But times were hard and he was sure the coin was worth it. Or at least, he hoped it was. Still, there was something gnawing at his insides as they drew near the edge of the forest, the trees thinning around them. A feeling that maybe…he was choosing wrong.

Finally, the forest came to an end, the path they were on weaving ahead through open grassland and undulating hillocks. Lambert took in a deep breath, letting the early Autumn air fill his lungs, clearing his nose of the cloying scents of the forest. He felt his prisoner's attention, which had been focused on him for the entirety of their quiet journey so far, shift to the surrounding area. Looking back, he found the girl lifting her head as if smelling the air too, her now lightened eyes darting around curiously. Of all the limited things he had read about demons, she really didn't match anything, but the sun was getting low in the sky and he wanted rid of this disturbingly fascinating monster.

Pulling himself into the saddle, Lambert gathered his reins and gave Blue eyes a cursory glance. 'Going to speed up now. Want to get to the village before nightfall.' She shot him a venomous look, but didn't say anything. Just how he liked it. Digging his heels into his mount's sides he spurred him to a brisk trot. She was keeping pace, just, from the sound of it.

It was after nearly an hour of constant trotting that they finally past the first few run down huts on the outskirts of the village. It was then Lambert realised he didn't even know the name of this place. Not that it mattered, they were all the same after a while. Slowing his horse to a walk, he cast a look behind him to see how his prisoner was doing. He was greeted with a very angry looking demon. Although, right at this moment she actually more closely resembled an exhausted, pissed off girl in tattered, bloody clothes. Somewhere along the way she had lost a shoe, and her one bare foot was coated in dirt from the road. Her hair had come loose as well, giving her a dishevelled, wild appearance.

Smirking at the sight, the witcher dismounted and tied his horse up on a nearby post. 'Good job keeping up. A normal human would have fallen and been dragged half the way.' He said, a vindictive edge to his words. Her mouth curled into a sneer as she watched him retrieve the leshen head.

'Typical slayer. Heartless to a fault.'

Lambert snorted, his nose wrinkling in disdain. 'Keep it up demon, I've heard worse.' He shouldered the leshen head and grabbed the end of her rope, yanking it hard so she stumbled clumsily towards him. She managed to regain her balance right before she slammed into his chest, her eyes flashing angrily as she stared up at him through her wayward hair.

He lowered his head so he was a few inches from hers and snarled. 'And I'm not a slayer, I'm a witcher. Learn it.'

'Why?' She said, raising her voice as he turned and began walking into the village. 'I'm not going to be with you much longer. Seeing as you're handing me over to be tortured, or burned or whatever it is these people are going to do to me.'

Lambert ignored her even though she was practically shouting at him now. Keeping his eyes forward he scanned the muddy shithole looking for the man in charge. He found him stood in the doorway of 'The Twelve Maidens', Rika and a bunch of other men he recognised from their first meeting stood behind him. The old man watched his approach with suspicious eyes. A few of the men gather with him were talking in low voices but the witcher's heightened hearing meant he heard every word.

'It's the freak.'

''E brought that witch back alive.'

'We ain't going to pay 'im, are we?'

Lambert took a deep breath in through his nose. Here we go, he thought, the same old bull shit. Locking eyes with the leader, he put on his best crowd-pleasing grin. He didn't respond very positively, folding his arms as the witcher came to a stop outside the tavern. There was a moment of awkward silence, then Lambert ran out of what limited patience he had left.

'How's it going old timer? Got your order.' He threw the leshen head towards the group of men. It landed in the dirt with a dull thud, rolling to the side so its empty eyes stared up at the old man. His attention flashed down to the skull then slowly moved back to Lambert. Damn, this guy was tough. Most peasants would have run screaming at the horror of seeing a monster's head up close.

'That was one part of the deal witcher.' He said in a voice that carried surprisingly far out in the open. 'However, I still see the other part is very much alive and standing in the middle of our village.'

'Well, about that. Turns out you were telling the truth, she can come back from the dead.' Rika and some of the other men started making hostile noises and he was very aware of the doors of the nearby houses opening.

'You didn't believe us you cheating mutant? What are we meant to do with a witch that can't die? She'll kill us all.'

Lambert turned to look at the girl stood a few feet behind him. She was still glaring at him as if willing him to burst into flames. 'Hmmm, no. I don't think she will. And what you do with her is of no concern to me.' He turned back and gave the group of men an arrogant look. 'Point is, I got her out of your forest. Along with the leshen. You can hunt again and that was the deal.' He was just about done with this charade. He wanted to leave, preferably with his coin, but the atmosphere was turning and it was turning a horribly familiar way.

'You can't pay him Issui. 'E's a damn charlatan.' Rika said, looking at the old leader in disbelief. Issui? So, the old man was a druid, it sounded like a druid name anyway. That would explain his more…educated accent. Issui took a step towards him, then nudged the leshen skull with his foot.

'I'm afraid he's right witcher. I asked for both the monsters' heads. You gave us one and brought one straight to our village. There will be no payment today and I suggest you take the witch with you.'

Lambert felt the thin veneer of his manners cracking. 'Listen hear Issui, you goat fucking tree hugger.' Issui's eyebrows disappeared into his messy grey hair. 'I did a job, or depending how you look at it, at least half a job and that deserves some compensation. And for the record, I'm not taking the 'witch', you can keep her here and lock her in a tomb for eternity for all I care, but you will pay me my due.' His voice had increased in volume and he had advanced step by step, until he was toe to toe with the druid leader.

He knew his approach always resulted in the worst results but he'd had enough of being ripped off, insulted and spat at in every back-water village from Nilfgard to Kaedwen. Sometimes violence and threats were the only way to get fair payment. But even as he suggested they should permanently imprison the girl, he felt that annoying niggling doubt in his gut, telling him to take her with him. He didn't have enough time to dwell on the disturbing thought however, as someone from the now gathered crowd threw the first stone. It hit him hard on the shoulder, bouncing off and thudding to the ground. He turned slowly and gave the boy that had launched the projectile a cautionary look. His face paled and he took a step back under the witcher's burning gaze.

'I think the people have given you your answer mutant. Best if you leave now.' Issui said, and Lambert practically burst with rage at the patronising way he spoke. He gripped the rope he was holding until his knuckles felt like they were about to crack, and his other itched for his steel sword, as the projectiles and insults started to fly with abandon.

'Freak!'

'Mutant!'

'Witcher scum!'

Most of the stones and clods of dirt bounced off of his amour. But a few found their mark, catching his face. He raised his arm to shield it. Closing his eyes to also try and block out some of the angry mob and keep his volatile temper even.

Don't react, they're just a bunch of stupid peasants. He chanted, taking deep breathes and letting the cries of 'mutant' and 'freak' wash over him like so many waves on the shore. He picked up the sour smell of alcohol and sweat right before his eyes snapped open and he saw Rika advancing on him, his fist raised. Ducking just in time, as the burly man swung at him with a curse.

'Get out, you fucking cheat!' Lambert took a nimble step back, keeping out of range of the other man's fists. Rika turned red, not appreciating being shown up in front of the village. In his frustration he sucked in his cheeks and spat a wad of mucus and saliva at Lambert's feet. The witcher caught a small movement out of the corner of his eye, then looked down to see he had backed up next to his prisoner. She was watching the scene, that small crease of confusion wrinkling her brow. It was hard to see what colour her eyes were from this angle, but he sure as shit hoped she wasn't about to take advantage of the chaos.

'You couldn't kill a lame doe you fucking vagrant!' Rika shouted, his anger still increasing. Another stone flew at him as he watched, but missed and hit Blue eyes on the arm. She flinched slightly and looked down, dazed at the stone rocking at her feet. Then she turned her face up to his and his eyes widened. His seething anger momentarily forgotten.

She looked sad. Her eyes the lightest he'd seen them. A sparkling turquoise almost. Like the sky in Summer. There was no trace of the anger or hatred he had seen as he dragged her from the forest and tried to hand her over to the village. There was only an expression of deep understanding.

Rika let out a roar and charged Lambert again. He was about to leap back and make for his horse when the girl's eyes changed to flat black in an instance. His stomach dropped as she curled her lip back over her teeth, her canines now pronounced; almost vampire like. She let out a guttural snarl that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up and his medallion began jerking violently against his chest. Instead of attacking him, and freeing herself in the process, the demon's head snapped towards the advancing Rika.

The witcher, for the first time in a long time, was unsure what to do next. He watched as if in slow motion as she lowered into a crouch, her hands still bound with the dimeritium shackles. Which as it turned out were doing about as much good as a daisy chain at this point. Rika finally clocked the new threat and baulked, his massive frame having trouble with his sudden change of speed. He slipped and skidded in the dirt as the demon let out a horrific roar that was hard to believe came from anyone that looked like that. Even Lambert confessed he was genuinely intimidated by it.

The entire village had stopped in their persecution of him and were staring in terror at the nightmare now being unleashed on their village. A few started to scream and run, whilst Rika remained frozen, unable to escape the monster's menacing gaze. Issui too was locked in position, his hands half raised as if trying to think of the right spell to cast to solve this calamity. It was only when the girl launched herself at the quivering wreck that had been Rika that Lambert finally acted. Drawing his sliver sword in a heartbeat, he spun on the spot, gaining enough momentum so that his blade sliced the demon girl's abdomen with brutal efficiency.

There was a horrible gurgling sound as some of her unusually dark blood escaped her stomach and splatter into the dirt. Then she sank to her knees, the rest of her following in quick succession, collapsing on the ground in a motionless heap. Silence fell on the village as everyone stared at the still form of the monster they had just witnessed and the witcher standing over her, his sword dripping blood. One by one they started to yell with relief, some breaking down into hysterical tears, some even applauding. Quietly, Lambert wiped his sword as best he could on a tuft of yellowing grass and sheathed it.

What had just happened? He knew she was dangerous but he had never, for one-minute thought she would have gone feral in the middle of the village. She hadn't seemed the type. He suddenly remembered the sad, pitying look she had given him right before she had attacked and a horrible, crushing feeling entered his chest. His only consolation was that he had deliberating gone for her torso, knowing that the last time they had fought she had revived from similar wounds.

'That was quite a show master witcher.'

Lambert looked up, in a daze, at Issui as the druid leader gave him a reluctant smile. A few of the peasants cheered and congratulated him, one even finding the stones to pat him on the back. Rika was still sat in the dirt, his face and chest covered in the blood from the girl, his arms shaking visibly as he looked up in awe at the witcher.

'It seems we had a misunderstanding before, sir.' Issui continued, reaching into a pouch at his belt. Oh, he was sir now? 'Here is your payment, as agreed. With a little extra for our thanks.'

The old man gave him a smile that didn't reach his eyes, and Lambert felt a swell of satisfaction knowing this was killing the conniving old bastard to do this.

'Thank you. All in a day's work.' He replied smugly, giving the old coot a haughty stare. 'If you need my services again, you need only ask.'

But I'll be cold in the ground, eaten by ghouls by the time I come anywhere near this shit hole again. He thought, taking the heavy coin purse from Issui.

The old man cleared his throat awkwardly as he pocketed the money. 'Ahem, if you don't mind the asking witcher. What will you do with the body?' Issui waved a hand in the direction of the near dissected girl lying face down in the dirt. That worrying niggle pulled insistently on Lambert's gut.

'I'll take her with me if you don't mind.' He said before he could think, although he wasn't entirely sure he wouldn't regret that decision down the road.