Day 4

Still shaking slightly from his nightmare, he silently padded into the kitchen. It was early evening, the sun not even close to setting completely. The tiled floor was cold under his feet. Draco surmised he must have looked especially exhausted earlier because Asmodeus had sent him to get a few hours of sleep. But dreams had interrupted his rest, and now he was hoping that they wouldn't know he was awake.

After another exhausting day of collecting potions ingredients and boiling Aescolapius solution, Draco needed the sleep. However, thanks to his nightmare, he felt worse than ever instead of refreshed. Hesitating briefly before entering the room, thirst overwhelmed him and he cautiously made his way to the room.

The sight of fangs bared at him sent a sudden throb of icy cold terror through him, remembering especially vividly what those other vampires had done to him with his nightmares still fresh in mind. He wanted to flee, but an invisible power stopped him, shoving him further into the kitchen where he belatedly realized Asmodeus was watching the spectacle.

Draco didn't understand – sometimes, the sorcerer protected him, other times he just stood back and watched Draco like a hawk, and most of the time, he was chatting with the vampire on a friendly, equal basis. Draco didn't think that Asmodeus was a slave, not to this vampire, and probably not to a stronger one, either. He seemed much too independent for that. But then why associate with a vampire at all?

Why didn't the vampire suck Asmodeus dry? Was he that strong?

"Good evening, Draco."

He flinched slightly, and almost immediately chastised himself for it. Asmodeus had never done anything to him, unless you counted the daily potions to block his thoughts.

He didn't quite know what to make of the sorcerer, and he was beginning not to quite know what to make of the vampire, either. He had watched how, on several occasions, Asmodeus had electrocuted the vampire with soundless and wandless spells, and the vampire had more than once threatened to rip Asmodeus' throat out. Asmodeus had merely laughed, his unnervingly gold, white and black eyes never showing any fear.

And both were staring at him right now, with the vampire slowly growing angry. Belatedly, he realized that they were waiting for a reaction from him.

"G-good eve-evening," he managed to stutter, almost immediately hating himself for his show of fear.

The vampire smirked. "Good evening, my little Happymeal on legs. Come here."

He didn't quite know what a 'Happymeal' was, but the name spoke for itself. And, apparently the vampire wanted to – again? But he already had today – however, the vampire's quickly growing frown scared him even more.

It took all his willpower not to start hyperventilating when he reluctantly inched closer to the smirking vampire who started baring his fangs once again.

As soon as he was in range, the vampire's inhumanly strong and quick hands snatched his arm and hauled him closer, bending his head roughly to the side. His teeth gritted to hold back a silent scream when he felt the vampire's teeth break his skin, growling possessively while he was feeding.

Slowly, he clenched and unclenched his hands to keep his terrified energy in check, knowing from painful experience that struggling would make everything worse. The whole day, the vampire hadn't bothered inducing the happy, lethargic feeling in Draco, the one that had happened when Mariah had fed on him before. At least it wasn't the ripping agony of when the vampire had punished him, but it still hurt. Draco wasn't sure which way he preferred – pain or someone messing with his mind. None of the above would be the ideal solution, but Draco knew that was an illusion.

He could see Asmodeus shaking his head at the sight, commenting to the vampire that he better not spill any blood on the floor, which earned him a raised finger. Asmodeus retaliated with a carelessly flung knife that nonetheless was perfectly aimed at the vampire's forehead – less than an inch from Draco's face. Draco was starting to fear for his safety.

Thankfully, the vampire caught it before it could do any damage and returned it exactly the same way, finally removing his teeth from Draco's neck. Draco immediately scrambled out of the way of danger, but still close enough to watch their interactions. To his surprise, the vampire almost pouted.

"Hey, I thought you wanted to keep the mortal alive? Don't you know that playing with knives is dangerous?"

Asmodeus smirked. "Sure I do. And I think it should be more than clear who I've been aiming at."

"You still could have killed him."

Asmodeus shrugged. "That's why I didn't do this."

A small ripple of static electricity under his clothes was the only warning. From Asmodeus' hand, a bolt of lightening flashed towards the vampire's backside, who didn't have a chance of evading it. With a pained growl, the vampire started cursing, rubbing his sore parts all the while. "Damnit, Rahkesh, what did you do that for!"

"You asked for it."

"I did not!"

"Well, at least you offered."

"Oh, shut it. That smarts, you know?"

"That was the whole point?"

Shaking his head, the vampire gingerly crossed the dining room to get to the sitting room. "Just you wait," he growled over his shoulder, "that calls for revenge!"

Asmodeus merely smirked. "Suit yourself. Come on, Draco, since the poor, little, fried vampire has already had his meal, it's time for ours."

Suddenly finding all attention focused on him, Draco froze when the vampire bellowed. "Stop laughing, mortal, or you won't survive our next encounter!"

Asmodeus merely rolled his eyes. "And then Mariah's going to eat you alive. Come on, Draco, let's leave him to heal his wee little vampire ego."

Still a little bit shell-shocked, Draco managed to follow Asmodeus without completely turning his back on the vampire. He watched Asmodeus start preparing a hearty dinner, somehow managing to make even Draco's 'special diet' look appetizing.

"How do you do it?" Almost as soon as the words were out of his mouth, Draco realized what he had said, and he had to fight not to clamp his hands in front of his lips.

Asmodeus didn't even turn around, but he answered calmly. "Do what? Throw the knife at Daray? That's practice."

Somewhat encouraged by the nonviolent reaction, Draco dared to keep asking. "No. I mean – living with him. Why doesn't he just feed on you, kill you, or something?"

"Like he does with you? What do you think I am doing differently from you?"

This stumped Draco. "Erh… you are stronger than him?"

Asmodeus shook his head. "No. If we were to really fight, I'm quite not sure who'd win, and when I first met him, I didn't know much more than you do now. Try something else."

Biting his lower lip, a habit from his childhood days, Draco thought. "You know older vampires than him?"

"I met them only after meeting Daray. And the older they get, the stronger they are, and they are just as insane and violent as Daray is, with maybe a few exceptions. Only, they have even more power to back them up."

"Then why…" Draco trailed off when Asmodeus sighed.

"You can't be that stupid. If he weren't a vampire, what would you say our relationship is?"

"Erh, well… you seem more like … friends?"

Asmodeus nodded. "Good. Now, why do you think I can't be friends with a vampire?"

Draco spluttered. "But… but that's…"

"That's what?" A voice growled from behind him, and Draco froze. He hadn't even heard the vampire sneak up behind him, let alone seen him.

"N…Nothing," he stuttered, feeling the vampire's cool breath on his neck.

Asmodeus intervened. "Oh, come on, Daray, you've already fed on him, and he hasn't had anything to eat since breakfast. Do you really want him to faint?"

"But I'm still hungry," the vampire whined.

Asmodeus rolled his eyes. "You've become too spoiled. Now go and make some potions – there are some freshly shelled spring peas – or amuse yourself elsewhere. With you lurking behind him, he's more likely to throw up than eat."

Grumbling the vampire retreated again, but not before flinging a small flurry of spells at Asmodeus. The man managed to redirect most of them to the ceiling and the walls, but two got through. A bright gash opened on his forearm, and his skin darkened to a sickly purple. Asmodeus merely rolled his eyes, smirked, and sent a barely visible but tightly controlled cone of power out the door after the vampire's retreating back where it dissipated against his shirt. It didn't seem to have any effect, but Asmodeus' smirk grew wider with every passing second. Draco heard a door open and close again, the vampire having vanished from sight a while ago.

With a raised eyebrow, he looked at Asmodeus, who was still grinning like a lunatic. "What was that all about?"

Asmodeus' innocent look wasn't quite believable, with his purple skin marring the effect thoroughly. From the gash in his arm, blood dripped every once in a while, giving him an even more demented look. "Oh, nothing. I think Daray will find out the effects in the next few seconds."

With his left, Asmodeus waved his wand over his forearm and his skin, returning both to normal.

"RAHKESH! I swear, if that charm affects anything besides my clothes, you…"

The vampire's noise was abruptly cut off after another wave of Asmodeus' wand. From the way silence fell, Draco surmised it wasn't because the vampire had stopped shouting, but rather because of some kind of privacy ward going up.

Asmodeus' sly smile turned conspiratory. "Shrinking charm," he commented succinctly.

Draco's eyes widened. With those leather clothes, the shrinking charm must have become quite… uncomfortable. "Won't he be… angry?"

"Naah," Asmodeus smiled, "payback for the skin and the cut. He's just going to try and get me back for that. Better see if I find some more wards for my bedroom door. Could you set the table?"

Mutely, Draco complied, since Asmodeus apparently didn't want to continue their previous conversation. Draco was too confused, anyway.

When he was done, Asmodeus, who had been cooking entirely without magic, heaped vegetables and thinly sliced white meat on two plates, together with a yoghurt dip.

To Draco's surprise, Asmodeus took the other plate and started to dig in. Why was he eating that food, too? Was he also required to keep his blood tasty for some vampire?

Seeing that Draco hadn't started yet on his own meal, Asmodeus waved, "Go ahead. It tastes better warm anyways."

Still watching incredulously, Draco slowly took up his own cutlery and tried not to make too much of a face at the barely cooked celery, kidney beans, and broccoli.

"You know, staring is impolite. If you want to know something, ask. The worst thing that could happen is that I don't answer."

Draco flushed at the admonishment. His father would have corrected such rude behavior quite a bit more violently. "I… well, you eat the same food as me…"

"And so you thought that some other vampire is feeding on me? What if I told you that I liked this food?"

Draco looked at his plate, and then back at Asmodeus, who was once again smirking. Draco thought he must have looked disbelievingly enough, because Asmodeus laughed out loud. "No, you're right. Although I'm not a picky eater, I could imagine better things for dinner than celery and beans. Do you know why Daray makes you eat those things?"

Somehow, whenever anything concerning vampires was mentioned, Draco's mind threatened to blank out in gibbering fear. Slowly, he was getting control over those reactions, but he was still very much terrified. Deliberately, he tried to think objectively about the situation; however he couldn't help the sweat breaking out on his forehead. Asmodeus seemed to sense his struggles because he left him alone.

Finally, Draco managed to remember what he had been told before. "Because the… b-b-blood taste better?"

He almost couldn't force the word 'blood' over his lips, but he managed. Asmodeus nodded at him. "Yes. From what I have gathered, healthy blood tastes better, although emotions and race make up most of the flavor. Now, why do you think I eat that stuff?"

Thinking a little bit, much calmer now that they weren't talking about him anymore, Draco answered. "To keep yourself healthy?"

Asmodeus sighed. "I have left several overviews of all magical disciplines in your room. Have you actually read any of them?"

"The one by Thorstinius Telarius." Draco was confused at the sudden change in topic.

"Ah. While he elaborates very thoroughly on wandless magic and thread magic, he doesn't have to say much about what I am talking about. Bloodmagic, as the name already suggests, deals with blood, and I am planning to do a ritual quite soon. For that, my blood chemistry has to be as close to perfect as possible."

Draco reeled back as if struck. Asmodeus was a Blood Mage? Even the Dark Lord didn't practice bloodmagic very often; it was that dark! And whom was Asmodeus going to sacrifice? How could the man talk so calmly about torturing someone to death? No wonder Asmodeus was getting along that well with vampires!

He gradually became aware of Asmodeus staring at him strangely, fork raised halfways to his mouth. "What's the matter now?"

"A-are you g-going to k-k-kill me?" It was the only conclusion Draco could come to; surely, the man wouldn't sacrifice the vampire. The exasperated sigh coming from Asmodeus made him shrink back even further.

"Did you read anything about bloodmagic at all?" Before Draco could answer, Asmodeus shook his head, gesticulating impatiently with his still raised fork. "Even Telarius describes the difference between black and white bloodmagic, and so do quite a few other volumes in your room. For your information, you are quite safe from me for the foreseeable future. It's Daray you should worry about, but not because of bloodmagic."

Still shaking slightly, Draco didn't go back to eating until he was certain Asmodeus wasn't going to attack him. Not wanting to annoy the man any further, he kept silent about all the questions still racing in his brain. Perhaps he shouldn't have skipped those chapters after all. But ever since … the Dark Lord, he'd had an unreasonable fear of anything concerning blood, and just the thought of reading about bloodmagic sent pearls of sweat onto his forehead.

They finished the rest of their meal in silence, with Draco excusing himself as quickly as possible. Since the vampire had gone somewhere else – at least nowhere in the immediate vicinity, Draco was free to retreat to his room. He had quite a bit to think about. And maybe a book to read.