Scene 6

Doris awoke with a start.

D was in the room and with his presence, sleep simply wasn't possible any longer. The young woman didn't know how long the dhampire had been there. Like a dark carving of stone he sat on a chair in the far corner of the room peering out the window. His gloved hand pushed back the curtain, his profile barely lit by a single candle in her room.

"D...?" she ventured, sitting up groggily.

With a single stern look he silenced her. It was not an unkind stare; if anything, Doris felt strangely that something significant had changed in the beautiful hunter. His fingers relaxed and let the coarse fabric of the curtain fall, concealing half of his face. Her breath caught in her throat as she stared back.

"We've been followed," came his soft voice.

"Who?"

D didn't answer. His head tilted. Then the vampire hunter rose suddenly and snatched up his sword. "We run," is all he said.

"What?" Though the fog of sleepiness had vanished from her eyes, Doris still felt as if she dreamed, so overcome by the speed at which the dhampire moved.

His hand extended to her. "We run."

Taking his hand, the young woman found herself dragged out of bed. There was no time to throw even a bare robe over her flimsy nightgown. They rushed out the door and down the stairs. Much to the young woman's dismay, the whole common room blazed like hell had erupted in the middle of the floorboards and ate away nearly everything in reach.

Before she knew it, D lifted her in his arms. "Hold me tightly."

For a moment the young woman thought to beat into his chest with her fists, insisting he release her. The memory of their little tiff was fresh in her mind; the thought of D implying that he'd kill the kids if he had to boiled her blood. Besides she was never fond of being carried in such a manner. But aside from the stairs the entire room burned hotter than a stove, fires climbing to the the rapidly disintegrating celling. The second story would be consumed soon after. That would boil her blood a whole lot faster.

Burying her face into his strong-as-steel chest, Doris felt the fires around her as D strode through pillars of flame. His cloak smoked, hat brimmed in little sparks. If not for the hunter's cool body moderating her temparture the huntress thought she might die from the sheer heat.

Doris didn't care for the damsel in distress stance she'd been forced to revert to but anything had to beat being burnt to a crisp. Surely D understood.

Once outside the dhampire lowered her. He shook his hat to smother the fire then stretched out with a hand again.

"Run?" Doris asked, laughing weakly.

He simply nodded.

They ran. They ran so hard it tore the breath from her lungs. All around her was a reflection of the inn, only a thousand-fold. Brightly-painted three story houses burned just like the one-story shacks. Smoke columned from a dozen buildings. People fled out like a swiftly-flowing river, screaming as they went. Even the pretty ships perished in the flame, swans slain and floating listless in the harbor.

If not a single boat remained how could they escape?

Upon approaching the harbor, D steered her past the smoldering boats and other boats that were still burning, smoke high in the night sky. A single ship remained unburned but there appeared comotion on deck as no one responded to the dhampire's softly spoken request to board. For one such as D that was tantamount to sheer impossiblity.

With a sword in one hand and her arm in another, the dhampire lead her up the ramp. Once standing on deck it became quite apparent why the crew hadn't acknowledged their presence.

The ship was swarming with vampires.

Releasing Doris, D exploded into action. Like a shimmering beam of light his sword drew a fine line, decimating the two nearest vampires. He was a sheer pleasure to witness, a dark theatre of death. Vampires howled as they attacked, and howled as they died. Blood and guts splattered on deck. Sailors were quick of step to stay out of his way.

But there were so many of them...Doris remained frozen, shocked to her core. She'd fought the werewolf easily enough; there was only one of them then, and they were no match for the highest of the food chain, the vampires. That was a decent enough explaination, but the huntress realized that D's aura of protection almost enfeebled her, made her that damsel in distress.

How was she to save Dan and the others if merely witnessing his power turned her courage to jelly; how was she to finally impress D and earn his respect when her teeth clamped in fear?

Again the dhampire swung his sword, decapitating another vampire. They crowded him now, realizing that their were strength in numbers and that the sailors were no threat compared to him. They seemed everywhere at once. Even with the ungodly skill that he possessed under such presecution even the supreme skills of the vampire hunter would fall prey to the talons of a vampire.

How many were aboard? Dozens?

That moment came. As three vampires crowded the hunter, another one took advantage of the distraction to stab at him from behind with a spear. D dove into the air, the afterimage of him a victim of the attack. The attacking vampire didn't know what hit him when the hunter came down. But neither did D, as another of the pack took the chance to drive a blade into his gut.

That finally propelled Doris into action. When she'd seen D pierced before when he'd been challenged and deceived by another hunter Doris had barely moved, paralyzed by the horror of the vampire hunter's defeat. He had seemed unbeatable before then. The concept of his death was so alien the huntress had collasped, taken by that very hunter who'd killed him.

She had been useless then. Not now. Not when D needed her.

Spinning her whip in the air, she lunged at the pack of vampires. Her own courage and beauty also inspired the sailors who took up arms against the wicked creatures. Doris barely felt the slight stunning wounds the vampires inflicted on her...all she could think about was to defend D. He crouched on the deck, blood pooling him like a rain of melted roses.

He's trying to get up, Doris realized. Even wounded the hunter remained unafraid.

Beautiful face set in determination, her whip cracked, slicing up the creatures. Long nails clawed at her, but the young woman ducked back, ebony locks swinging around her. Deathly skin sizzled as she slapped out her whip, spinning on her heeled boots. One vampire thought to encircle her as he had D, but fortunately for her a sailor got to him first.

In the span of fifteen minutes it was over, though, to Doris, it had felt like hours. After the last of the vampires had either perished or fled, the huntress sank to her knees by D's form. The blood had ceased (how exactly?) and D was severely injuried but it didn't appear a mortal wound. He was murmuring something, but she shushed him.

She craddled his head in her arms. "Rest, D, I'll keep you safe."