Eskel's instincts kicked in before he could stop to think.

He dropped the steel sword and pulled his silver blade instinctively as Maya dragged his attacker to the ground. The man gurgled wetly, blood gushing out of his mouth and then went silent. Maya pulled away from him, spitting blood on the ground, heaving and gagging. She put her hand over her mouth and looked up at Eskel, on her knees in the muddy snow next to the body. Her skin was sickly pale, her hands, her face, the entire front of her dress splattered with bright red arterial blood.

She looked up just as Eskel stumbled forward, his ears still ringing from the impact of the crossbow on his skull. He pointed the sword at her. They looked at each other in silence. He took a breath, willed his wits to focus. He sneered at her, anger suddenly coursing through him. He gestured at her with the blade.

"Show me," he snarled, his voice low.

Maya closed her eyes and slowly dropped her hand from her face, smearing the blood across her chin. Her hand fell boneless onto her knees, her mouth steadfastly closed. She took a long slow breath before opening her eyes again.

Eskel jerked the sword at her again pointedly.

Maya opened her mouth. Long, needle sharp fangs overlaid her teeth, two on the top, two on the bottom. Her mouth was filthy with blood.

Eskel didn't move. The silver sword flashed, glittered as his hand trembled almost imperceptibly.

"Where the fuck were you keeping those?"

How many times had he kissed her? Fuck, she had his cock in her mouth more than once. He thought he might have noticed those fucking things raking down his dick.

"I pulled them out," she said. Her voice sounded different. He wasn't sure if it was the extra teeth, or the blood in her mouth, but he immediately hated it. "Years ago. Put silver in the sockets, so they wouldn't grow back."

His forehead creased. "That hurt?"

"Of course it did," she said. She wiped the back of her hand over her face, smearing blood along the curve of her cheek. "Every day."

"When were you planning on telling me?"

She looked away. "How could I?"

Eskel felt like his chest was going to crack open. He stuffed it down, focused on the familiar bite of of the leather grip in his hand, his finger looped over the crossbar to stabilize the blade. He pressed his finger hard against the silver.

"I don't know, how about, hey, by the way, I'm a fucking blood-sucking horror?" He lashed out. He wanted to hurt her.

He loved her and she fucking lied to him. Was any of it not a lie?

"Right, tell the Witcher who stumbled into my door half dead that I'm something he should kill?" She spat blood at his feet. Her expression crumpled. She struggled to stand, her dress caked in mud and blood, damply clinging to her legs. "It doesn't matter now." She moved toward him slowly with shuffling steps until the tip of his sword was pressed between her breasts.

Eskel didn't flinch. He focused. He could hear her heart beating.

"What are you waiting for?"

He couldn't move. He should just do it. She killed that man right in front of him.

She killed that man to save him.

Eskel just stared at her.

"Just do it." She made a face and spit blood on the ground again. "Please."

"Not gonna swallow it?" He hardly recognized his own voice.

She made a disgusted face. "I haven't..." She made a strangled sound. "Probably since before you were born."

He grunted. "I'm 104."

She barked a pained laugh. "Definitely before you were born."

Eskel was at a loss. If she'd just fight back, show her teeth, threaten him, he could just dispatch her and be done with it. But she just stood there, just waiting, staring at him.

He couldn't do it.

He turned his back to her. He could hear Vesemir screaming in his head. Never turn your back on a monster. Never. But Vesemir was fucking dead. What good did that advice do him in the end?

He sheathed his sword and picked up his steel from the ground. He wiped the blade along the leather of his pants, grime, mud and blood leaving a long smear on the dark leather. He sheathed the steel beside the silver.

He was still listening. He couldn't turn that off. She didn't move. She didn't move until he whistled for Scorpion and the stallion trotted out of the trees, his mare behind him. Eskel unbuckled the saddlebags and let them drop into the stained snow.

"What are you doing?" Her voice sounded ragged, desperate.

Without a word, he swung up on Scorpion's back and nudged him forward. The horse balked at him.

"Please, you can't just leave me here, not alive, you can't...Eskel." He paused when she said his name.

Gods, how he used to love that.

Once, that was the best sound he'd ever heard. It made his head hurt. He was so stupid. He kicked at Scorpion. The horse took a few hesitant steps forward. Even though the stupid thing was supposed to be terrified of vampires, he didn't want leave, flicking his head back to look at his mare, ears twitching in annoyance.

"Go, you fucking nag," he snapped at him.

"Eskel," she said it again insistently. "Please. They'll be back. If someone is going to do this, if someone is going to stick a sword in me and burn me to dust, I'd rather it was you."

He kicked Scorpion hard and this time he obeyed. He forced them into a gallop, even though the ground was soggy and half frozen and treacherous. He didn't look back.


He didn't get far.

Scorpion was fighting him every step and eventually he gave up, letting him paw at the ground instead of turning an ankle or breaking his leg. He just sat there, staring off into the distance. He couldn't see Kaer Morhen from here, but he knew where it was.

He didn't want to go.

He turned Scorpion's head back the way they came and the horse surged forward, wanting to go back.

What the fuck was he doing?

She was a vampire, bruxa probably. He'd fucked one before, but he knew then, his medallion shivered and he was on guard the whole time. He knew what they were. Just like the succubus. She was fun and it was novel but it wasn't personal; she was just trying to survive. He wasn't crazy. He got that.

Maya looked at him right in the eyes and told him she loved him but never told him what she was. Did vampires even do that, did they even feel love?

Fuck, Witchers weren't supposed to either.

If you listened to the stories, Witchers were inhuman monsters too, emotionless, brutal, killing machines. Stick some gold in one end and get death out the other side.

He knew that wasn't true. When there used to be more of them, they were just as varied as anyone else. Some were emotional, some were broken and most were somewhere in between. He used to sneer at Geralt and all his entanglements, even when it made him feel a little envious at the same time. But he just pushed that down, focused elsewhere and did his damn job.

How many of them were there left these days? What was the point? The monsters...there had always been more of them; there were always going to be more. Witchers were a dying breed.

Vesemir was dead. Geralt and Lambert had run off with sorceresses, finally managing to eke something like happiness out of this brutal life.

He didn't blame them but he didn't think he needed it. Eskel wasn't that sort of man. He was fine, just existing, just being just...bullshit.

Did it even matter what she was? Shouldn't it matter what she did instead? How many times did she have her mouth of his body? How many opportunities did she have to take his blood, hell, take his life? Never once did she do anything but help him and take care of him. Did it matter at all?

He let Scorpion have his head and he immediately headed back towards his mare.

Fucking horse was smarter than he was.