Part 11 1663 - London, England. Return.

When I say I met a man who changed me, it would be more accurate to say that I changed him. I had been living down in those dank sewers for a long time, feeding on the homeless people who happened my way, or taking rats when I was desperate. I found adrenaline was not something readily available to me in my new, chosen life, but I was beginning to accept that. I was living in the dark like the monster that I was and that was OK. I didn't deserve the thrill of battle or the adventure of war. I had thought of myself more than a man for the longest of times, but now I was a being out of time. Out of touch with the modern person and I found the easiest way to deal with this was to simply wallow in my own self pity.

It had been a warm day and I was becoming tired of the walls of my tomb. The constant drip of water was making me insane, so I decided to hunt above ground for a change. It had been so long since I had even made myself feed that I was not at my full strength, and the situation was most likely accentuated by my recent revival from my near extinct state.

The night was still. I breathed in and was assaulted by my own stench. Living in the sewer did nothing for ones personal hygiene. Over my own reek I could smell that familiar twang of human blood. This one was very sweet smelling, and close. I had come up in an alley so I decided I should go and try to find this human. There was also a shot of fear mixed into their odour. This could serve me well. If they were already afraid then seeing me should heighten their fear, sending that delicious adrenal gland into overtime, which meant a party for me. I was like the opium addicts upon whom I feasted.

It was a man, giving off the scent. A blonde haired man who was very handsome. Not that this mattered to me. He was going to taste great, that much I knew. I perched myself on a window ledge and waited for him, listening to his heart thud in his chest. He thought someone was following him, and he was right, of course, but he was unaware of my presence. When I dropped in front of him he did not scream. Instead he stared at me with wide eyes. In a flash he turned and sprinted back the way he had come. The odour was now like fire in my brain. I had to feast.

I darted after him and was on him quickly. I sank my teeth into his flesh and tasted the metallic twang so dear to me. Then I was on the ground. Something had hit me over the head. Something large and metal. I could hear footsteps as my quarry escaped, fleeing for his life unaware of the poison in his veins that would soon make him one of us. That thought was of little consolation to me though. I wanted all of his blood, and now that I had a taste I wanted it more than anything. But the question was, why was I on my back?

Then I saw a hand extending towards me. I took it and levered myself up, taking note that the hand was as icy cold as mine. Then I broke into a wide smile. The face attached to that hand was familiar. A big red beard and red curls flowing from his head, chiselled features red as they always were (or at least as red as any of our kind could be.) he was dressed well, looking at me with amusement playing in his red eyes. The guy was a mass of red.

"Castor!" He heaved with a laugh, "Wha tha fuck is tha smell laddie?"

"Williams, is that really you or have I gone mad?"

"Does it feel like me?" He asked, thumping my shoulder nearly putting me on my arse.

"Oh it's you alright!" Now I was laughing. "But why did you stop me killing that guy?"

"I didne. It wa some other chappie. He blind sided ye. Not that ye woulde noticed, the way ye was after the poor fella." Always so full of expression.

"What?" I asked, full of confusion.

"I had been followin yer prey lad. He was mah supper, and ye beat me to it. But someone else had been followin him too, and thats who hit ye. i saw it all. He came round the corner and smacked you over the head with a shovel. The kid didn't need a second chance mind you, he was off like a ferret."

"And the attacker?"

"Ran off in the other direction. No idea what he was all about. Londons full o wierdos lad." And with that he laid a hand across my shoulders and led me down the street. "Lets get you home. Get ye inta some decent clothes before I gag! Have ye been livin in the sewer?" I nodded. "Lets sort that out then eh?"

As I walked I could feel the blood of my escaped victim tickle my nerves. This had been a special one and it had gotten away. The feeling it gave me was different too. Suddenly I felt stronger, more confident. This stranger had done more for me than he would ever know, and he would get to live. In a fashion.

Williams was living in a nice town house in the city. He had a few nice things and explained that he had accumulated them through his war efforts. He had remained in the service of the kings and lords as a mercenary and the money he had earned had served him well. In the weeks that followed he helped me to clean myself up, dress properly and feed. Then he offered me a partnership.

"Together we can take care o any mission. Fight with me. I'll cut ye fifty fifty."

"I fear for myself in battle. The last time it ended badly."

"Ye was oot of practice. Anyway I can help train ye, get ye back on yous feet."

There was no arguing with him. I followed his lead and let him train me in the ways of modern battle. He taught me self control all over again, and he taught me how to live in his world. It was a world of rich men. He had amassed a great sum of money during the hundred or so years since I had seen him last and he seemed to be enjoying the lifestyle. One afternoon we were in the townhouse chatting while I practiced my self restraint.

"So what happened, after I lost my head?" I asked, having told Williams what I had been doing for all this time.

"Ah ran as fast as ah could. Next thing ah knew ah was in Germany. Smith went down just before ye did, and ah saw Lenster flee. Tha was the last ah saw of him though. No doubt he'll re surface sooner or later."

"So you just returned to the military?" I asked, trying to ignore the whimpers in the corner of the room.

"Aye pretty much. When ah got back te London ah found an army to join. It wasne up to much, but ah helped then win a battle and the lord paid me well. From there ah worked hard to improve mah name and now its pretty much the first anyone calls when they need a rouge to win them a war." He sounded very pleased with himself.

"And Lambert, or whatever he calls himself now?"

"Not a peep. I've no doubt he'll turn up eventually but I suppose he's working on a lord or duke somewhere."

All this talking was making me hungry and Williams could obviously see it. He picked up the axe he had laid on the table and walked slowly towards the corner of the room where the young man was securely chained. Upon seeing the monster advance with an axe he started to panic and I fought back my primal urge. The first attempts at this had ended badly, and many more had ended in fights between my mentor and I, but now I was learning to control myself and I remained seated, looking on calmly as my friend advanced on his victim. The final scream, as always, was the hardest to resist but resist I did.

It was time to get back on the horse. The horse of war.