What finally summoned LaCroix awake was the one scent that still terrified him. The frighteningly close smell of burning wood.
LaCroix was at once fully aware of the intense throbbing in his still injured shoulder and of the hand carefully probing it. The ferocious snarl he had intended to make sounded more like a pained whimper, which earned him a light slap on his cheek.
"Hush up! I've barely touched you. Some highway man you are whining over a small flesh wound. I've tended women in labor who haven't cried so much." an unsympathetic woman's voice grumbled.
LaCroix slowly moved his head towards the voice and once again locked gazes with the enigma he had earlier dismissed as an easy meal.
Silhouetted against the bright flames was a young woman possibly no older than Janette with long dark hair and dark eyes lowered in concentration as she focused on her task. Her delicate almost aristocratic features bore an uncanny resemblance to his ill-fated lover Selene and from the rough way she continued to press on his shoulder both women had similar tempers.
Wincing from the pain forced LaCroix to glance over at his wound and realize that the top seam of his rich tunic had been crudely sliced open over both his shoulders, pulled down and thrown in a heap on his lap exposing his well muscled chest and torso.
Upon seeing the look on his face the woman merely shrugged and smiled sweetly, "Don't fret. It's nothing that can't be easily mended later. I will even patch up the hole the tree caused. Besides it's hardly anything I haven't seen before and much better than most."
LaCroix quickly surmised that this woman was either completely stupid or overwhelmingly brave. Vampires both young and old would've never dared to speak to him in the blatant manner that this common woman was chatting.
Quickly regaining his composure the vampire grumbled, "If that won't make me depart this earth with a smile on my face I have no idea what will."
The woman's joking manner abruptly became serious once more as she helped him to sit up, "We both know that it will take more than a tree branch to stop you, vampire."
A thousand possible denials surged through LaCroix's mind but none made it to his tongue. How often had someone uttered that word which explained his true nature? Of course most of the ones who had were either breathing their last breaths or moments away from becoming a vampire themselves.
Somehow LaCroix was doubtful this woman could become either. If the surprises he'd encountered so far just being in her presence were any indication then it was likely that drinking her blood would be a risky endeavor.
The woman finished wrapping his shoulder in dry linen and briefly turned away from him to bring a bucket from the far wall. The soft sloshing of water could be heard as she reached inside the bucket and extracted what looked like a fat black slug.
LaCroix didn't bother to hide the disgust on his face when he saw that the slug was in fact a leech.
"Not as appetizing as a lady, is it? Well that's all you will be getting from me." the woman said gruffly.
LaCroix reluctantly accepted the leech and managed to feed from it without making a fool of himself. The deer blood within the leech was dreadful to taste but it took the edge off his hunger.
"Might I inquire as to how you formed your conclusion?" LaCroix asked as he tossed the remains into the nearby fire.
"The elders of my clan remember your kind and the massacre they brought to these parts well enough. Besides not too many people around here would eagerly suck blood from a leech." the woman replied stiffly.
"Fair enough but if my 'kind' committed such heinous crimes against your people why did you not kill me to avenge those lost?"
The woman smirked, "What would that accomplish? All the vampires who attacked my clan were eventually killed and no harm was done to me. Other than that I have no idea why. What I do know is that the sun will be up soon and you are stuck here until it sets. For now I'm going to get some sleep. There are a couple more leeches in the bucket if you're still hungry. Touch my chickens though and I will not be pleased."
"You need not fear for your chickens, ma cherie." LaCroix promised.
"We have barely met and already I am dear to you? And the locals call me strange. My name is Magdalena de Sang, resident midwife and soothsayer to the good people of Calais. It seems only fitting that you give me your name, Monsieur." Magdalena remarked with a bright smile.
"Lucien LaCroix."
"Light of the Cross? And you're a vampire?"
"I am at your service, Mademoiselle."
"We shall see. Is there anything else you need, Monsieur LaCroix?"
"If you have a bone needle I will mend my tunic. I have already imposed enough upon you."
"In the basket by your feet." Magdalena answered not bothering not to wonder how much knowledge a male vampire had of mending clothes. The young woman climbed up the rickety ladder to the loft which stretched halfway across the one room structure.
"Pleasant dreams, ma cherie."
"If you can have those then same to you, Monsieur." was the blunt reply.
While Magdalena and her 'guest' settled in for the day Pierre Ledoux had just arrived in Calais to deliver a portion of his wares to the old lord. Before he could enter the city Pierre was ordered by the gatekeeper and soldiers to surrender any and all weapons he had on his person.
"What's the trouble, Jacques?" Pierre asked as he handed over the small dagger he kept for travel and work.
The gatekeeper's face was grim, "Been a few nasty murders on the outskirts lately and Lord Beaumont wants none of that in his city."
"Murders?" Pierre asked fighting to keep his expression neutral.
Jacques shuddered, "Not pretty. At least two women and one man their throats torn to pieces."
"Sounds more like an animal than a murderer." Pierre remarked lightly.
"It would but the throats were all that was touched and not a drop of blood left there. None of God's creatures attack that way. A few folks are claiming demons or witches are involved. What do you say to that?"
"I'd say that you've been drinking too much ale. Honestly, Jacques, all this fuss over a wolf?"
"How is your Mariana? Still heavy?" Jacques abruptly asked.
Pierre grew pale, "Mariana is doing well. The baby is expected by early fall."
"Your Mariana is a good girl. Best keep her close and away from that troublemaker sister of hers."
Pierre merely nodded and pressed forward determined to conclude his business in Calais as soon as possible.