Scene 4

If she had thought he would go easy on her, Doris quickly learned how wrong she was.

It wasn't until the darkest of night did D finally halt his horse and that was because the horse made a few snorts and stamps of protest, not for him or her. Slipping off the steed with all the grace of a moonbeam the vampire hunter quickly lifted his saddlebags to locate his bedroll and spread it out beside a tree in one single moment. Then he planted his back against the bark, hat lowered over his face, sword across his legs.

He did all that in the time it took for her to dismount.

Doris slid out her own bedroll, shrugging out of the outerwear corset and stretching in her hunting leathers and silk shirt. The bubbling brook nearby drew her gaze but she knew nourishment was more important. Who knew for how long the dhampire would rest? If she didn't eat now she'd be forced to eat on the road and that was a perilous effort at best.

Nibbling along some hard tack, the huntress glanced at the dhampire. While he was a flurry of activity a moment before now the vampire hunter didn't move a muscle, appearing asleep. She knew he was not. What rest D deigned to take would still keep him alert to any danger. And there was danger aplenty in the forest at night.

Still crickets and nightbirds sang their song, and creatures hopped and slithered in the darkness. She was no waif and didn't fear the monsters that lurked within. With D there, even inert as he was, Doris didn't worry. In fact, her mind fluttered back to her brother. Her lip trembled again. The boy grew up fast, strong and proud. He could survive kidnapping by vampires...couldn't he? Maybe against one, possibly against two, and how likely against the rumored dozens?

Swallowing the last morsel as if to swallow the bleak thoughts down, the huntress stood and stepped over to the brook. Moonlight sparkled over the waters, a shimmer not unlike that which graced D when he lifted his head and his eyes gazed out. Beautiful and utterly untouchable. Oh, she'd stripped through his shields one time, the moment their lips met. She'd disrobed then and was delighted to see his eyes stray over her form, a heat in them even the ice-cold hunter couldn't conceal.

With a sigh, Doris slipped the shirt over her head and tossed it to the side of the corset. She glanced back at D, but he might as well have been a part of the tree for all the life he conveyed. The hunting trousers soon followed her shirt, but still D didn't make a single motion. Giving an almost irritated sound from her throat, Doris shrugged out of her underclothes and stuck a toe into the brook.

Freezing. Oh well, she'd better get use to it. Her body warmth would heat it soon enough.

"You shouldn't do that."

Like the cold water slashed all over her, the huntress stopped and sharply glanced at D. Still the vampire hunter remained seated underneath the tree, his fedora concealing his face, but Doris sensed his attention was at last on her. Not for the reason she'd hoped, but it was better than the disdainful, almost condescending, silence he'd favored her with all day.

"Why not?" Tempted to stick her tongue out, Doris kept it behind her teeth, thinking she didn't need another reason to make D consider her a childish damsel.

"There are creatures out there waiting for us to let our guard down."

The words flew out of her before Doris could stop them. "And far be it from D to let anyone ever catch him with his guard down."

There was a moment between them and Doris couldn't tell if it was tension wafting in the air or simply D contemplating what to say next. Without preamble the vampire hunter suddenly stood, clutching his sword. He stepped right past her shimmering naked form without a glance her way and disappeared into the darkness. Or became one with them, as he was often wont to do.

Had she angered him or was the dhampire simply no longer interested in the conversation? It frustrated her. Here she was on a mission to rescue her brother and while worry creased her forehead on more than a dozen occasions, always the huntress found her mind rushing back to his elegant face. It was almost wicked to him around her again, opening up a wound the young woman had thought closed.

A single crack of a twig steeled every cell in her body. Shadows slid around the forest leaving little mocking shrieks. There was no time to dress. Doris rushed to her whip and hefted it, testing its weight in her hand.

With a loud scream the monster attacked.

As if incorperal, Doris's body spun around as she whipped around her whip. A wet smack told her she'd hit home. The creature let out another scream, of rage and pain now. It darted back, unpleasantly startled to find the nude waif of a girl not an easy target, but a sleeping dog not to be awakened. And the animal in Doris had woke, exhibited in her vicious, but not uncoordinated, attack.

A werewolf, the huntress noted and even as she thought this her mind calculated what strike to follow up with. Around and around the whip swirled, leaving gash after gash on the beast. Its talons flew at Doris, but the young woman was not where they aimed, leaping over them. Darting this way and that, she didn't take a single strike, but landed plenty of her own.

The werewolf gave one last half-hearted attempt to take down his "prey". As fast as half the speed of sound, the black beast sprang at her, all claws bared. Out came the whip, a bright blast of leather in the face of the werewolf. Blood burst out like a terrible blossom, coating the young woman in the flith. The body dropped as a boulder into the brook. Pink colored the otherwise pristine waters.

Doris blew the matted, bloodied hair out of her face. She was a mess.

Of course who should be standing across the brook but D, looking as fine as ever. His blade had tasted blood a dozen times at least...as had some very unpleasant entrails, but he was none the worse for wear. If anything the aura of death only enhanced his beauty, made him appear as an dark angel to steal away life.

"You should bathe." Then, as if he'd never moved at all, the vampire hunter slid comfortably back under the tree, once again as a statue that birds might perch on.