Trigger Warning: Rapey stuff ahead. Ye Be Warned.
Best Laid Plans, Laid to Rest
Things never seemed to go exactly as expected.
For instance, D never expected a simple job to land him in this position.
Staring down at a lifeless girl he'd been hired to hunt as he stretched her out on the ground and hovered above her. Hands clasped over her sternum as he prepared to start chest compressions.
Because her heart was still.
Silent.
And what a way to go.
Erembour paced around them as the Hunter began.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five.
Six.
Seven.
Eight.
Nine.
Ten.
Eleven.
Twelve.
Thirteen.
Fourteen.
Fifteen.
Sixteen.
Seventeen.
Eighteen.
Nineteen.
Twenty.
Twenty-one.
A weak little flutter.
Nothing more that he could hear or feel.
Twenty-two.
Twenty-three.
Twenty-four.
Twenty-five.
Just a few more compressions before he needed to give her rescue breaths.
Yes. This was never part of the plan. But he'd be damned before he let her die like this.
Thirty.
He gently pinched her nose and slotted his lips against hers. Breathing once.
And then he felt it.
Krista's lips moving gently against his as she quietly said in a nasally voice, "Thanks for the air. But why've you been shoving on my chest?"
The Hunter wrenched himself back. And for her part, Krista did not move. Eyes still pitifully grey as she coughed. Tears building and dripping down her cheeks.
Slowly, she rubbed her chest. "D?"
"Hush."
Her mouth clamped shut, and she watched as he closed his eyes. Intent. Listening.
In the silence, he could finally hear it.
A heartbeat so faint that he was impressed she was even conscious. And logically, she probably shouldn't have been.
D released a soft sigh and sat back on his haunches. Allowing a very anxious Demon to crawl up to his shoulder. "Chest compressions. Your heart stopped." She nodded. "How are you feeling?"
"Kinda like death. Really tired. Scared and don't wanna think about what just happened." He nodded in understanding, pressing his left hand to her temple as she glanced down. Moaning loudly and pulling at the borrowed clothes. "And I ruined your pretty shirt!"
"I think that is the least of my worries," he murmured. Taking in the damage.
Honestly, if they hurried, he could clean the stain right out with a bit of peroxide. But first, it was unwise for her to be seen with her lips and chin smeared with blood, so he pulled out his handkerchief and dipped it into a nearby puddle. Dabbing at her face.
"That can't be sanitary."
"No worse than the trough."
She snorted and gently smiled. "At least it isn't spit."
The smallest spark of amusement lit the Hunter's eyes. "Would you prefer–"
"No!" Now she was laughing. Still seeming out of sorts as she batted at his hand, but better. If only marginally. "Give me more dirt water. I'm good with that."
An easy silence enveloped them as he continued to clean up the blood.
"Hey, D?"
A soft hum.
"Can I eat again? I'm really fudgin' hungry."
"… I second the motion," said Erembour.
Well, if she was ready to eat, he wouldn't deny them. He stood, pulling her up with him. "Let's clean up first."
The stain came out wonderfully. And while the shirt was wet and a tad see-through from rinsing it, Krista was content with wearing it. Noting that, since it was just the front, she could do as she did to enter the tavern.
Cover it up with her cloak.
As such, she was currently bundled up in her cloak. Munching on her third steak with a bit of help from Erembour. And D gently swirled the liquid in his near-full mug, eyeing the red substance thoughtfully. Painfully aware of the stares directed at their table.
The stares were not a result of his choice of drink, as no one had seen him slip in the capsule. And while he did not appreciate them, he was not about to tell Krista to quit her eating.
He closed his eyes and took a small sip.
"D, you feel okay?" she gingerly asked around a mouthful of food. "You keep closing your eyes. Are you tired? Did I keep you up last night?"
Hand openly snickered.
"What?"
Silence.
The man shifted to face her a bit more. Away from curious stares as he swallowed another drink.
Slowly, under her curious and confused gaze, one eye flickered open. And a strikingly ruby-colored iris gazed back.
Her confusion nearly became a tangible object hanging overhead.
Yes. She wouldn't lie. One of her first thoughts was of 'The Clown'. An aspect of the D she adored and trusted.
She didn't like it, but it did not scare her because that was not all D was. And that was something she could distinguish.
Next, she thought of the flash of red she'd seen when waking the Hunter in the cave. It'd been so brief. A reaction. Something she did not hold against him.
Last, she thought of the large man from her memory. Eyes that shined in the dark. Spilling their blood light as he searched for her.
But he was not D.
Aside from all of that?
"They're pretty."
"And what you see as 'pretty', most people can't or won't tolerate," said Hand.
"Why?"
"Because most people don't want a bloodthirsty monster in their midst."
Her brows drew together, confusion intensifying. "You're not a monster. You're not gonna eat them"
"Good luck telling them that."
She fell silent. Feeding a very pushy Demon. Observing D for a moment before she stretched across the table to eye his cup. Eventually sniffing. And in a too-loud voice she started, "Where did you get blo–!"
A squeak of surprise fled her as D clamped his hand over her mouth. Quietly hushing her. And slowly, she wriggled closer in the rounded booth. Hands raised in surrender.
He relinquished his hold.
"Duhlub," she finished in a barely-there whisper. "Where'd you get it?"
Intrigued, she watched as he pulled out a small container and dropped a vermillion capsule into her quickly proffered palm. "So, a dried-out supplement? That you can reconstitute in water?"
At his nod, she leaned in and sniffed at his cup. Nose wrinkling in distaste. "Smells weird. Can I taste?" When he pushed it into her hand, she took the tiniest sip. Just enough to have the taste coat her tongue.
She was handing it back before she declared (quietly), "Tastes like shit compared to yours."
The comment did not surprise him.
What did?
"Why don't people just donate blood?"
The mug stopped halfway to his lips. "It's not that simple."
"Why not? Don't any Nobles ask? Or do they all just take it by force?"
A chair scraped across the floor with a harsh squeal, and a rough voice quietly interjected, "Little Miss, where are you from? You're awfully curious about the Nobility."
A heavy silence fell over the small group while life in the rest of the tavern continued on.
Krista was, to an extent, oblivious. Noting the Hunter's suddenly rigid posture as he quickly downed the remainder of his meal, but not immediately recognizing why. She turned towards the man with sun-kissed skin and flashed him a bashful smile. "I'm sorry. Are my questions bothering you?"
"Not really, but it's odd for someone to be so curious. Most of the time, people know the basics and that's enough."
"Well, I didn't learn of the existence of Vampires and such until Puregon was… attacked?" She eyed D. Looking for confirmation. Or help.
"Victimized. Terrorized."
"Yeah! What he said!"
"Puregon?"
"Mmhmm!"
The man ran a hand through his auburn hair. Gently rubbed at his bearded chin. And eventually grumbled, "I've been up there. They didn't seem so ignorant."
"I've no doubt!" she chirped. "But it was knowledge they deemed unimportant where I was concerned."
"That's… strange," he admitted. Hazel eyes wide.
"No kidding. But D's getting me all caught up."
"D?" Excitedly, the man swung his chair around to their table and squinted into the shadows. "The D?!"
At the quiet affirmation, the man clapped his large hands together with a hearty guffaw. "Boy, it's been thirty or so years since I last saw you! And you haven't aged a bit!" He lightly bumped Krista's shoulder. "Helped my family out when I was in my teens. But Hell. That was down South."
"Fieri of Tupir," D said.
"Yeah! That's me!" His voice lowered slightly as he leaned in. "Y'know, after you helped us, Ma an' Pa had a few good harvests. More than a few. And I saved up the coin to buy myself a rig. Now, I travel with a caravan and sell SEC goods. People up here go batshit for it."
"SEC?" Krista tipped her head. "What are SEC goods?"
"It just stands for Southern and Eastern Continents." Fieri pulled over a napkin as he fished out a pencil from his pocket. Roughly sketching the landmasses before placing three dots. Two on one. One on the other. "See, I used to live around here. Now, I go back home about every six months. Resupply at the farms. And then, I meet up with a supplier from the Frontier. Crazy bastard found an old terminal and hacked its systems. Got one of their aircrafts up and running."
For a moment, Fieri looked about. Seeing if anyone might be listening before he whispered, "If you ask me, I think he's got connections to the Nobility. I'm just not sure how. Maybe he's a Dhampir. Or maybe he's got him a lover."
"Does it really matter?"
He snorted. "No, not really. He's good people. I just like to speculate." With a low grunt, he stretched out of his chair. Pointed briefly at the red-head. "Sorry, but what was your name, little miss?"
"Krista."
"Krista. Very good. Y'all should come see me before we leave. We'll be here until the fifteenth. But if you can't find me out on the street, I'm in room 107."
Just as he was spinning his chair about to his original table, Krista called, "Fieri, did you stay there last night?"
"Yeah. In fact, my wife is there now."
He watched in fascination as the crimson-headed girl gasped and squeaked. One hand flapping as she leaned in. Pale green eyes wide.
"We're in 109! It's you we heard last night!"
Mortified, cheeks flushed, Fieri looked for an escape.
"Are y'all okay? It sounded like y'all were in pain!"
The large man doubted he'd ever been so flustered by an acquaintance. Looking to the Hunter for help. Had he not been so rattled, he might've sworn on his life that the stoic man looked rather amused with the situation at hand as he turned his head from Fieri.
In his memories, he could hear a voice much like Krista's. Yelling. Confused. And he could see the concern written all over her heart-shaped face. Something so genuine he was almost taken aback.
It just didn't change how embarrassed he felt.
But if she was unaware of what really happened, he could get away with lying.
"Oh! Yeah!" He flapped a hand. "We're better now. We just… ate… something bad?" Now, he cringed. Because it sounded so unbelievable. But when Krista nodded in understanding and stated she was glad they felt better, Fieri decided it was best left alone.
Together, the group watched the merchant flee. Running for the streets as if his life depended upon it.
"Why'd he look so uncomfortable?" Krista eventually asked. Picking at the remaining chunks of meat on the plate but no longer eating.
And while Erembour released a low, grumbling chuckle, Hand had the decency to say, "Don't worry about it."
Even if he was quietly laughing while saying it.
Silence fell over them. Filled with the chatter of the tavern. But comfortable.
Slowly, Krista turned her gaze fully upon the Hunter. Observing him as he crossed his legs and settled into the booth to wait. Gently prodding at Erembour. "Hey, y'all want the rest of this?"
A no from D, but the Demon crawled atop the table with all the grace of a puppy to devour the last of it.
D must've caught her brief look of discontent. "What's bothering you?"
She sighed. "The meat is really good. And I… Well…"
He waited as she gathered her thoughts. Having an idea of what was on her mind. While he did not necessarily want to pressure her, he thought that saying it for her might help. "Not satisfied?"
"Yeah." She pushed at his cup. "Do you feel satisfied?"
"Depends."
"Makes sense."
Her head thumped against the table.
And out came the groaning.
Blessedly quiet groaning.
Then, she was gone. Slumping up to the counter to pay without a word while D pilfered a bit of her water to rinse his mug.
He could admit. It was odd that she'd eaten so much but was not satisfied. So much consumed. More in that day alone than all their time traveling together thus far. But perhaps they'd simply found something that agreed with her stomach.
If that was the case, they would definitely need to go on an animal killing spree. Otherwise, she'd eat through her funds.
"Y'know, D," Hand suddenly piped up. "I've wondered something."
"Hm?"
"Being an orphan and a pariah, how did she come by her money?"
The table shuddered roughly as Krista abruptly and bodily slammed into its wooden frame, startling the countenanced carbuncle and the demon currently licking the plate as she leaned over to stare at Hand. Smile too wide as she gleefully answered, "I cut firewood!"
"Cutting wood doesn't pay that well."
She pressed a finger to his tiny lips as she settled on her belly beside Erembour. "Shh. I'mma explain! See, before everything went to crap, I would sometimes walk a few miles north to where the trees started growing. And a little ways in lived a lumberjack.
"The lumberjack didn't talk much, so I don't think he ever listened to what people gossiped about. He let me work for him. Just a bit. So, I had some coin saved up. But once I left Puregon, that little bit quickly disappeared. And when I tried to find some work… Well…"
She cringed, and they could both see it. The brief flash of memories that showed her fleeing for her life in multiple towns. And yes, they could both admit that they missed things as they'd really only been looking for more emotionally charged memories. Glimpses into her character and who she might be.
"You know that town you took me to so you could get paid?"
"Hard to forget."
A ruddy flush crept over her cheeks. "After a few failed attempts to find work and find you (or anyone), I got desperate. I had just gotten into town that evening. Got turned down everywhere I went. And eventually decided I would try to pinch the coin purse off someone who looked well-off."
Dear God.
When he was told she was a terror and menace to society, he didn't imagine this was what they meant.
A menace to the wealthy.
"… you? A thief?" Erembour sounded highly incredulous, and none of them could blame him.
"Yeah. Once it was evening, I wandered about the little open market on the far side of town. Most of the produce merchants were packing up, but the ones that were selling trinkets and jewelry were still dealing. And I saw someone that looked like a likely prospect.
"He was dressed well. Built like someone who lives well. And he had the fattest bloody purse on his hip. Biggest I'd seen yet." The girl's eyes shined as she recalled the night. "He was carrying around so much, I assumed it was just some to flounce. So, I crept up behind him when he was leaving and cut it loose."
There was a moment of quiet as Krista slid off the table and back into the seat at the Hunter's side. Sighing softly. And they all knew what was coming.
"I tripped."
Mostly.
"I had to walk past him to get back to the gates that we came through. And I fell right into him. Knocked us both to the ground. And he, of course, noticed the purple bag with what I assume is his name sewn in gold letters on the side."
D huffed out a soft breath. And Hand said what he was thinking. "So, you pickpocketed the head honcho of the town and he put out a hit on you."
"Seems that way," she laughed. "I can't really do anything right. But I guess it gave me y'all, so that's one in my favor."
As the girl continued to regale her three companions with her harrowing tale of escape from a very irate man, D's mind briefly wandered as he wondered what else they might have missed. If she had any more surprises hidden up her sleeves.
Thinking that this walking mystery continued to steep in her own flavor of enigmatic juices. Presenting him with a puzzle with smeared and missing pieces that he was expected to salvage.
Long into the afternoon, the sky was dark once again. Clouds heavy with rain. Air cool against their skin.
The Hunter was seated on one of the few benches littering the park. Fingers gently massaging the scruff of the Demon's neck as he huddled beneath his coat.
Not far away, Krista giggled like a child. Trying her hardest to scramble up the slope of a metal slide. But with all the rain, her bare toes could not find purchase on the slick surface. And even still, she tried. Skittering along until she slipped and flopped against the metal surface with a painful smack.
With a grumble, she turned her sights to the jungle gym. Pausing long enough to straighten out the cloak and now see-through shirt clinging to her slim body. But seemed very unbothered with the wetness otherwise.
Honestly, D was enjoying the reprieve.
It was another rare moment where he found himself appreciating the quiet. When there was no worry of Nobility. No concern for much of anything.
Just a moment to be.
And listen to Krista screech like a banshee.
Together, they looked up. Staring at a very disgruntled Krista currently dangling upside-down. Held captive by one slender leg that was twisted between a couple of bars. Unable to get the leverage needed to pull herself free.
"You should help her," remarked Hand.
"I should." However, the Hunter did not move from his spot. Content to watch her flail for a bit longer.
A few minutes more passed. Filled with the soft pitter-patter of rain and her whimpering as she attempted to wiggle free. Hooking her free leg on the bars to hopefully lift herself up.
She made no progress. Unless one considered, amidst all her flailing, her ankle painfully popping 'progress'.
There was a long silence as Krista fell limp. Body swaying to and fro. Chest heaving.
"Love me!" she eventually wailed, arms extended towards him. "I'm stuck and I need to pee!"
"Love you?"
"Yes! I really need to pee!" And she watched, with no small amount of relief, as D pushed up from the bench with the Demon in tow. Smiling despite the angry throbbing in her ankle. She looped her arm about his neck as he armed her up. "These random bouts of needing to pee are really inconvenient."
Working her leg loose, he asked, "Have your habits always been so inconsistent?"
"No. I think I went every day at the orphanage. It just kinda… got to this point."
He hummed. Gently maneuvering her ankle. "When did you notice?"
"Can't say I noticed immediately." She grunted at a particularly painful shift but continued on. "Just woke up one day and realized I hadn't been hungry or needed to pee for a few days."
Odd.
"But I don't mind not going. I just wish the need wasn't so sudden. Like my bladder is fine, but suddenly yells, 'If you don't pee now, you're in trouble'."
Perhaps there was no use in trying to determine what exactly she was. At least, not right now. Perhaps down the road, when more of her lineage came to the surface. Whether that was only a few days, or several months.
Her ankle suddenly slipped free of the kiddie death-trap, bruised and red but quickly recovering. He shifted to set her down.
She clung to him.
"Hold on." Krista started giggling and snuggling deeper into his hold. Rubbing her cheek against his chest as she listened to his heart. "You're really warm. And if nature wasn't calling, I might be hard-pressed to leave this spot!"
Strange that he actually let her be for a moment longer.
But eventually, she did drop from his grasp. Shuddering. Gently shaking her leg. Missing the Hunter's warmth. "I'll just use the tavern's public restroom, okay?" At his nod, she turned and departed with the assurance that she wouldn't take long.
She clutched her cloak about her. Tearing off down the path. Spying the caravan down the street and determining it was a must-visit as she shoved open the scarred door to the tavern. The glass pane rattling loudly with the sudden movement.
A whispered apology to the door and she was off again. Trudging through the wall of smoke until she was turning to a doorway at the end of the bar. Clearly marked with signs indicating she was heading in the correct direction.
But she paused. Casting a look towards the stairs and the hall at its side. Watching pairs of people disappear into what she assumed were more rooms.
Wondering if people pet cats here, too.
Another shudder shook her as her bladder reasserted its need.
She went through it. Turned past the owner's quarters. Bypassed the door to the kitchen and what appeared to be a breakroom with a singular occupant. And nearly squealed in delight once the bathrooms came into sight. Her journey at an end.
For a moment, her skin crawled. That prickly sensation one gets when being intently observed far too long.
She felt stalked.
But… surely it was just her imagination. And intense need to pee.
She needed to assure herself, however. Looking left. Then right. Left again.
To her right, a window that looked out upon a too-close tree.
To her left, the barren hallway.
Pressing her ear to the door, she knocked.
"There she is!"
The sudden declaration startled her, and she turned to stare owlishly at the man now occupying the space to her left. "I'm sorry. Can I help you?"
The man, tall and kindly looking with eyes the color of a clear, springtime sky and slicked hair the color of wheat, smiled broadly. Rocking back on his heels. "I believe you most certainly can!"
The crawling feeling traveled along her spine in the most unpleasant way.
"Yeah?" She felt herself tensing. Prepared to run, although she wasn't entirely certain why she felt threatened. But something was definitely wrong. "Well, I need to pee, so maybe it can wait until after?"
Now, his smile widened. Perfectly straight teeth bared. "Afraid not, girl. See, I'm on a bit of a time crunch, and I need you sooner rather than later."
Her feet were on the move before she knew it. Pushing her back into a body much larger than hers. Perhaps not taller than D, but broader. And equally large hands fell upon her shoulders with a tight squeeze.
Them's clubbin' hands.
It was at that moment that Krista realized she needed to escape. Elbow jerking back into the man's groin. But where he faltered with a low groan, more were there. Coiling their arms about her midsection. Clamping a hand down over her mouth. Pulling back on her hair until she was forced to stare at the ceiling.
She needed her blades.
With a shock of terror, as fingers met only belt, she realized she'd never grabbed them on her way out of the room that morning.
Her mouth opened, but oh, they were clever. Maneuvering their large hand to keep her from biting. So, she licked.
It tasted like Death on her tongue.
"What the fuck is with the sandpaper tongue?!"
It was a small distraction. All she needed as she flailed and kicked until she found purchase. Driving the person at her back into the nearest wall. Nearly managing to wrench herself free.
The 'kindly' man, who'd been ushering them towards the bathroom and digging through a bag until this point, rushed to restrain her. Fingers digging into her sides.
Arms.
Neck.
Air cut off.
She gasped for breath. Clawing at the hand clasped there. Heart pounding as she looked for any way out of the situation.
But she could only see the strangers and the tiled walls of the bathroom. Plainer than what she'd been expecting. But she wasn't sure why she was expecting a dark dungeon.
Another set of hands suddenly grasped her chin, wrenching open her jaw just a bit wider until an object, tapered at one end and hollow, could fit between her teeth. Over her thrashing tongue as she attempted to force it back. And finally, just the slightest bit down her throat.
With finality, the object was strapped into place.
She was pressed face-first into the floor. But now she could breathe. Sucking in large gulps of air. Still struggling as rough rope wound down around her arms.
"Don't worry, dear. If you'll relax, this won't be so bad."
If anything, she felt the opposite was true. That her predicament would only get worse.
She screamed.
No sound aside from the rush of air leaving her lungs.
Panic descended, and desperate, she tried again as they rolled her back over. A total of five men hovering above her. Smiling in a way that reminded her of Riedikke.
"Finally find out what that piece in your mouth does?" the 'kindly' man asked. Huffing and puffing as he sat atop her thighs. Fingers gently unfastening her belt. "Yes, as much as I would love to hear your pretty voice, I think a bit more discretion is required in such a public setting."
Gods damn them.
The tanned man at her head pulled out a switchblade. Pulling up D's shirt and cutting through it.
It concerned her that she was more upset about that for a moment.
He ran his hand along her throat and over top her armor. "She's pretty in the face, Clark, but flat as a board." And 'kindly' man nodded in agreement.
"Like a doll. Or a child."
The men turned to the one who'd spoken. All regarding him with a perturbed look.
Who she now knew to be Clark wrinkled his nose. "Let's not compare her to a child." He froze. "You are an adult, aren't you?"
She didn't answer, but her brief moment of indignation must've given him the answer he searched for.
"So Liam wasn't mistaken," he responded. Fingers searching for the straps joining her armor. "Had to be searching if you were dressed like this. But too stuck-up to consider a normal man, or even just outright tell him no. Had to play stupid."
Tears blurred her vision. Panic melding with her confusion. Feeling horridly vulnerable and weak, because no amount of her struggling was helping.
"Once we're finished with you, no man or thing will ever want you. And while I'd love to take things slow with you…" He paused and checked his watch. Frowning. "I'm running out of time. But the rest of the boys will take you elsewhere and take their time."
The clasps on her armor were finally undone. Bottoms shifting down despite her attempt to clench her legs.
"Always keep your no-no squares covered," Miss Haldwyn instructed. "Fight them if they try to force you to uncover. They are bad people."
Krista bucked beneath the men's holds. Screeching in terror. Anger. For a moment, the device in her mouth was unable to compensate for the inhuman noise. And it stunned them long enough for her to wrench a leg loose.
She kicked. Knocking one man into the wall with a loud crash. But her leg was quickly pinned down once more. Harsh grips spreading her legs and jerking down her armor as the man at her head leaned in and ran his tongue along her jaw.
She thrashed. Still screaming. Panicked and desperate. No longer just angry.
Irate.
Furious.
Her chest felt fit to burst as her head snapped forward and collided with the man's. With a sickening crack, the man slumped to one side.
Another crack echoed about the tiled room. Black spotting her vision. Ears ringing as blood blurred her vision.
And Gods, the pain.
Sharp and blinding.
Deep and confusing.
Her head felt like it was splitting open, and her brains were leaking down her face.
Oh. No.
Still blood.
Or tears.
She couldn't seem to think straight. Vision swimming and body heavy. And no matter how much she willed her armor to stay on, she still felt it slip off her feet.
She looked up at Clark one more time. Barely able to focus on him. Seeing his lips move. Hearing nothing. Feeling her legs be moved, but not understanding what they intended to do.
She wanted D.
D wouldn't do this to her.
The door to the tavern snapped open for the second time that afternoon.
While the patrons had paid barely any mind to the drenched girl, no eye was left unturned where the Hunter was concerned. Watching as the man, surrounded in an aura that promised bloodshed and raised the fine hairs on their necks, swept through the room and disappeared through the doorway at the end of the bar.
He'd set them on edge. But he couldn't bring himself to care much. Not when he'd been able to smell the cloying scent of Krista's blood the moment the door opened. And where his hunger was typically quick to rise at the prospect of fresh blood, it was eerily quiet.
The man couldn't say what precisely set him on this path. Erembour tucked into his coat as he searched for the girl. But something was wrong. And he was entirely prepared to shed blood.
He reached the bathroom, fingers wrapping about the handle and twisting it. And it was locked, because why not.
"Occupied! Use the other one!"
The locking mechanism snapped, but the door still did not budge.
Wonderful.
A repeat of Puregon was in order.
Inside, the men froze. Terror gripping them.
Crack!
The door bowed inwards. Splintering. And slowly, it swung open.
Without the door as a buffer, the Hunter's aura was like a miasma. Stifling and choking. And Clark turned to stare upon the imposing man that seemed to be growing before him. Shifting just enough to reveal the knife he had pressed to Krista's neck.
"Any closer and I'll slit her throat."
Time screeched to a halt.
Beneath the shadow of the broad-brimmed hat, slim eyes burned like coals. Pupils mere slits as they took in the scene.
Dared him to make good on that threat.
Clark quickly realized that he had fucked up. But despite this, he dared. Despite knowing the Hunter was horribly upset. Pressing the blade against the pale neck until blood bubbled up around the edge as he ordered the men surrounding him, "Get him."
Clark watched the Hunter strike with deadly efficiency as the men came pouring out of the bathroom. Sidestepping the swing of a bladed wedge. Elbowing the wielder in the jaw. Kicking out at the next man and effectively knocking his knee in the wrong direction.
He didn't catch what happened to the third man. But he knew he was dead when his body merely crumpled to the floor.
Cannon fodder.
That's what they were to the Hunter. And in a small aspect, even to the girl. Because he'd lost two men. And all over one girl. But then, what should he have expected?
Perhaps if he'd seen her ears before attempting to go this far, he might've declined the job. But here he was. One man dead at his side. One dead in the hall. And one very upset Dhampir looking at him like he was the top dog on his shit list.
It was no wonder the other guy didn't want to do this himself.
Unless he had not realized either?
Clark swallowed thickly as the girl beneath him started to stir. Silently sobbing as she spotted the fearsome man now advancing on them. And behind him stood the owner and the sheriff. Neither watching what was sure to unfold. Eyes instead on the two men moaning in the hall.
"Look, man," Clark started, attempting to extricate himself. "It was never meant to go this far. I truly apologize for targeting your whore."
Chilled fingers lashed out and snatched him up by the scruff of his neck. Sharp nails digging into his flesh. Lifting him off the floor until he stared back at that terrifying gaze.
"You're only sorry because you were caught."
It was said so softly. So quietly. And honestly, that calm fury was one of the most panic-inducing angers he'd ever witnessed.
The cold crimson eyes turned down and narrowed, and he followed the look. Horrified at the thought that the Hunter could very well be considering removing his still-exposed family jewels.
Too right he was.
But D knew that might land himself in hot water given the circumstances. Killing two men who'd attacked them could be written off as self-defense. But mutilating a man under the supervision of the sheriff would be too far.
Not that the man didn't deserve it.
Instead, he turned and threw the man into the hall for the official to deal with. More concerned with Krista and her still-bleeding face.
A part of him was infinitely grateful that his hunger was still nonexistent.
Gently, he tipped her to one side and worked loose the frayed rope from her arms. Unstrapped the device and pulled it from her slack jaw. And slowly, she worked her jaw as he pressed his left hand to her wound.
"Hey, D," she rasped after a long while.
"Hey."
Briefly, she smiled. Her relief palpable. "My head has the ouchies."
A small flash of amusement. Mostly veiled by his irritation and worry, but something Krista could still see. "I'm sure."
"I'm tired and cold. What's the dablage?"
Should he consider that an accident, or just her attempting to find some humor in the situation?
"You have a concussion." Her eyes were closed before he could finish, and with a small shake he said, "Try to stay awake."
With a jerk, her eyes snapped open but were still glassy. "I was jus' blinkin'."
"Have shorter blinks."
"Fuck."
D stretched back and snatched up her discarded belt and armor. Gently maneuvering it over her feet and up her legs. Briefly deliberating on checking her for signs of trauma while simultaneously keeping her hidden from prying eyes as the sheriff stiffly made his way over. Cane clacking sharply against the wood floor.
A quick visual check that she didn't protest.
No blood. No seminal fluid.
A small sniff.
He could smell the men's prior arousals. Nothing more.
"Does your no-no square hurt anywhere?"
Her brow furrowed, thoughts still a bit muddled. "No? Well… my hips? Those are kinda in the square."
She was fine. Because he could have been wrong, but he was sure that only one had attempted anything by the time he arrived. And from what he could see of the man's privates, he'd been clean. But the reassurance was nice.
Over her hips the bottoms went.
"Been in town less than two days, Hunter. Already attractin' trouble," said the sheriff, voice gruff.
Without a word, D armed up Krista. Wrapping her in the last bit of his shirt and his coat.
"You should take her over to the clinic and get her looked at."
"I have her." The Hunter turned to face the older man as he openly scoffed. Cane striking the floor. But D ignored him. Turning to the tavern owner as she eyed the broken door and blood-stained bathroom. And broken tiles in the corner. "I will pay for the damage once I have her settled."
The woman nodded dumbly. Her horrified stare slowly taking in Krista's sorry state and looking decidedly ill as she studied the headwound. "Don't ah… don't worry about it. There's nothing I can say or really do to make up for one of my workers doing this to her."
Too true.
-000-
The lab was in absolute disarray. Tables overturned and crumpled. Notes blackened and scattered about the floor like ashes. And in the midst of the chaos stood one girl. The epitome of a healthy Human teen raised in the sun with her honey skin tone and her sun-bleached hair. Rosy-cheeked as she skipped about the wreckage, humming and giggling excitedly.
Aston.
A name that easily gave most the willies.
And for those it didn't? They were probably just as twisted as her.
Her origins were up for debate to most. Some believing she was birthed from the Earth itself. Others, that she rose from a pool of toxic waste.
Laun and Edmont knew better.
She crawled out of Hell.
Or… that's what they wished.
In reality, she was an experiment that proved useless for the purpose the Council desired. But she'd been so quick to kill and take command that the Council pulled her into their ranks.
Both men were grateful they'd not been the reason behind her existence.
They just had to deal with her shit.
And that meant staring in despair as months of research were destroyed by her touch.
She lifted a torn page to her face. Dual toned eyes a mix of mud and spring grass narrowed as she studied the scribblings. "More notes on things you aren't supposed to be focusing on!" She didn't sound surprised, but she threw the paper to one side and continued on.
Edmont snatched up the note just as it began to droop. Blackening from her prior point of contact and spreading like ink. Frustrated and with a barely contained snarl, the scientist threw the page to the floor and watched it turn to dust.
He hoped her own ability would cause her flesh to rot.
"Now!" The woman spun about and eyed the men. Edmont clearly fuming. Laun close by, but calm. "Perhaps you will focus on your designated tasks? After all, the clones are fine."
Laun stepped forward, appearance still calm. But silently, he was incensed. "Aston, as I tried to inform you earlier, I requested Edmont look into this. Their bloodlust needs to be staunched. It is becoming a problem."
A slow smile curled Aston's cherry-red lips as she drifted closer. Petite feet the color of graphite just barely touching the ground. And equally dark fingers patted Laun's cheek once she was able. "There is no problem, Lord Laun." The first two fingers of her opposite hand crooked twice. "This 'problem' is exactly what we need. In fact, I wish they were all as wonderful as the oldest one. It's a shame so many are so timid."
"You mean 'kind'."
A thick silence fell over the room.
The pale Noble's vision snapped about. The flesh of his cheek blackening and sloughing off as he stumbled back. Face twisted in pain. And while it killed Edmont to see this and do nothing, that's exactly what the scientist did.
"Lord Laun, I said what I meant." Aston's voice maintained its sweet, playful cadence, but underneath was a threat the men knew she'd make good on. "No more deviations. No more foul ups. Start gathering the people we discussed."
Now, she paused. Face contorting in an ugly show of shark-like teeth. "I want that bastard out of the picture. Are we clear?"
"Crystal."
-000-
"Always keep your no-no squares covered. Fight them if they try to force you to uncover. They are bad people."
Krista turned her gaze up to the woman.
Miss Haldwyn.
She loved Miss Haldwyn. Sometimes wishing the teacher could adopt her.
She thinks she tried.
Krista pressed a hand to her chest. "Why? I mean, I already do because of the rules."
The teacher smiled sadly. Briefly removing her glasses to rub at her tired hazel eyes. "Only someone you love and want to be with forever should see your no-no squares. And doctors, but only for health reasons. Even if I teach you nothing else, please remember your no-no squares."
"Do boys have no-no squares?"
"Only one," she murmured. "And the same rule applies."
"Only look if I love them and want to be with them forever?"
"Exactly. You both have to want it. You both have to be sure."
After a quick glance around, Krista slowly eased her head into the woman's lap. Ignoring her hunger for just a moment longer as the woman's slender fingers carded through her hair.
Pain that was bone deep and body wide roused Krista from a sleep she didn't remember entering.
In fact, she was having trouble remembering much of anything about the day.
With her one eye, she glanced about the room. Fingers searching and finding fuzzy warmth.
Erembour.
She could feel now that he was pressed against the length of her body. Large head nestled against her belly. And with a groan, she inclined her head enough to look around.
Violet eyes blinked back before the Demon rubbed his snout against her.
But she kept looking about. Searching. Seeing nothing. "D?" she called, voice wavering.
Why was she anxious?
Why did her stomach feel so upset?
Why did she hurt so much?
Why couldn't she remember?!
Even her dream was attempting to slip through the cracks. And while she knew it was just a memory, to feel it attempting to float away and become something more distant hurt.
'I never really stopped to grieve her…'
She released a shuddering breath. Frustration building until her eyes watered and her head pounded angrily. Previous pain seeming to explode.
A chilled hand pressed to her forehead, and a calm swept over her. Pain briefly abating.
"Calm yourself."
Part of her didn't want to calm down.
Part of her wanted to rip and tear.
Destroy everything around until all that remained were those she cared for. Safe and sound.
But nothing she did would ever bring back the dead.
So, she calmed. Staring up at the Hunter and the glass of water he held.
And boy, did her bladder ache.
"My bladder's gonna pop…"
"Not on the bed."
"Yup! It's gonna do it! Ka-pow! Pee everywhere!" She softly giggled. Closing her eye before sighing. "Jokes aside, can you pull me up? I feel like an overcooked noodle."
He did. Setting the glass of water to one side. Helping her up. Watching her every move. Every expression. And the man could see that she was in a great amount of pain. Lightheaded and dizzy as she waddled off to the bathroom.
The door was cracked, but that didn't stop them from hearing what sounded like a cow pissing on a rock.
"Gods! I feel so much better!"
She wasn't even finished.
"Seems her concussion is healing," said the countenanced carbuncle, forming in his palm and twisting about to eye the door. "But her face… not so much. I guess her body is focusing on the more severe issue?"
At the man's quiet agreement, Hand sucked in a breath. "Shame. She has really poor luck."
"I be a danger magnet!" she called.
"Finish peeing!"
"I did! I'm just sitting here. Hurting. Tired."
This time, D was the one to call out as he sat on the edge of the bed. "You need to drink."
A long pause.
Eventually, she muttered a soft 'okay'.
Water running as she washed her hands.
Water off.
"Yo! What the fuck happened to my face?!"
Another pause.
"Better question; why am I just now realizing something is wrong with my face? For fuck's sake, I can't even open my left eye."
The girl exited the bathroom then and shambled across the room. Flopping down at his side and quietly taking the glass. "Thank you for the water."
D nodded. Watching as she sipped on the drink. After a moment, her brow furrowed. Eyes glassy and distant. And he knew that she was probably beginning to remember. When her hand raised and began digging at her arm, he gently pushed it back down. But he said nothing. Letting her process.
"Oh…" she eventually breathed. Fingers feathering over the stitches stretching from her forehead to her cheek before she reached out to tightly grip his forearm. Saying nothing for another long moment.
"Sorry about your shirt." Up his brows went. But she finished by saying, "And thank you for rescuing me."
"I can't imagine why I might blame you," he murmured.
"I'm just sorry that it was ruined. I feel a bit at fault, I guess. That guy said that I had to be searching with the way I was dressed."
D clucked his tongue, and (unless her eye was betraying her) she'd swear his eyes spilled a malevolent blood light for a split second.
For some reason, she was comforted with the thought.
"It's an excuse for the immoral. They justify their actions by placing the blame on the victim." D slowly turned to face her a bit more directly. Pressing on the area around her wound. Feeling for the crack in her skull and finding it smaller than before.
"People like them do not view you as a person. You become an object to be used and disposed of. Never think you are at fault. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Sir."
He nodded. Pointing to her glass. "Drink."
Back the glass went. Cool water settling heavily in her belly. But it stayed down, and she half-grinned, half-grimaced at the man. "Thanks. Am I allowed to sleep?"
She was stretching out before he could answer. Letting Erembour curl up against her once more as D pressed Hand to her forehead.
The cool warmth was so very nice. Already pushing her to the brink of sleep. Mind calming.
"Yeah. Rest up, kid."
She hummed, lightly cupping the hand against her head as she slipped further into slumber.
She didn't think she would ever stop being thankful for her companions.
Rain blurred D's view of the street as he gazed out the window. Hand still pressed against the girl's forehead. While she didn't stir much, she clutched at his hand with any small movement. Whimpering pitifully. Occasionally startling into semi-alertness before drifting off once more.
Brief flashes of lightning illuminated their room.
Again, he would not sleep this night. He was on high alert. Watching over Krista, yes. Making sure her state did not deteriorate. But… something stirred the air.
"… Hunter."
D turned to eye the Demon still curled around Krista, and he determined he was not the only one on edge. However, neither commented.
Instead, the Hunter pulled his hand free. She whined weakly but did not fight. Leaving him to silently rise from the bed's comforts. As he approached the window, a lurid light coursed through his eyes. His aura spread across the tavern. Searching.
There was nothing in the streets that he could see.
No malicious persons occupying the tavern that he could feel.
But he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that the town had a pest skulking about.
He drifted back to the bed. Passing his hand across Krista's forehead as he settled in. She was quick to latch on. Unbothered by the pressure it put on her wound.
While he hadn't said as much, thinking of her wound disgusted him.
Those men had disgusted him.
He could put together what happened. Seeing behind closed eyes: her struggle. Putting up too much fight for them. Killing one. And them deciding that the only way to remove some of her fight was to strike her with the bladed wedge.
It was abhorrent.
And added one more scar to her body.
It added character, he supposed. But it was a shame that she was so young and so marred. Some scars nearly invisible. Some still a fresh pink.
A couple added by his own hand.
Most not.
D sighed and turned back to the window.
November 13, 13,012
Krista lurched up in the bed with a gasp, startled awake by outlandish dreams. Nightmares. She felt that's what the majority of her mornings consisted of. Honestly, she was tired of jerking into consciousness.
But for now, she attempted to clean off the sweat dotting her brow and irritating her wound. Attempted to calm her heart as it beat heavily and quickly in her chest.
Dread settled in the pit of her stomach.
She cast her eye up at D. Able to meet his gaze with a smile. "Well, at least I didn't start clawing at your eyes. Again."
Hand snorted, agreeing. "Have bad dreams?"
"Yeah. You could say that." She leapt to her feet and skittered to the bathroom where she scrutinized her appearance. Poking and prodding at her swollen eye and face.
It'd gone down a bit, but her flesh was black and blue. Bruised horrendously. And the stitches in her face didn't help.
"I so pretty!"
"Quite."
Her cheeks flushed as she laughed. Not entirely sure the person to answer was teasing her. "Hey, can we go see Fieri before the tailor?" She poked her head around the doorframe in time to catch the Hunter's nod, and her smile grew as she came out to dig in the saddlebags. "Great! I'm gonna squeeze in one more bath! Do you need to pee before I shut myself in?"
Soap and undies in hand, Krista turned and promptly halted in her tracks. The Hunter stared pointedly at her, and after a moment, she noted his hair was damp.
The fact did not deter her from her original question. "But do you need to pee?"
More silent staring.
"Do you pee?"
No answer.
Slowly, she started inching back to the ajar door. "No? No pee? I'm the weird one? Gotcha!"
The door shut with a soft click behind the wide-eyed girl.
Yes, if nothing else, the girl was tenacious.
With Erembour still lounging on the bed, the peaceful quiet accented by the white noise of the running shower, D began rearranging the saddlebags. He made room for the extra supplies he'd picked up before he bathed. And eventually, near-exploding bags were relaxed and ready for more, if needed.
Not necessarily advised.
In fact, they would probably require another set of bags if they wanted Krista's clothes to come with them.
By the time Krista was exiting the bathroom, D was back by the bed. Pulling on his coat.
"Oh, wow! There's so much room!"
Then came the shriek. But he did not look. Taking the time to strap his sword in place.
"Why isn't it fitting?!"
Grunting.
He was simply refusing to turn about at this point.
"Maybe if I put some in another bag?"
Another screech.
"Deeeeeeeee!" she wailed.
Finally, he turned to face her. Taking in the small explosion of items surrounding her, and the two limp bags within her reach.
Yes.
She surely was a walking disaster.
"I don't know how you do it," Krista muttered. She poked and prodded at the scattered objects, eyes narrowed in irritation. "Teach me your secrets."
D shooed her off to one side, packing everything up again. Mindful to place the girl's undergarments and soap on the very top.
No sense in repeating this every time she needed to bathe.
But as he was finishing the second bag, he spotted Krista leaning over. Finger outstretched.
The contents within burst out at her small touch. And the man turned a critical look upon her. Asking through look alone if she could restrain herself.
She only laughed, skittering across the room to gather her weapon and boots. Strapping on her belt and cloak. And a few moments later, she strutted about the room with her torn boot flopping comically. Declaring she would leave him to the packing despite her insistence that she packed much the same way as he.
"If I didn't know better, I'd say you're using magic to make everything fit."
And if he were so inclined, D might've shaken his head at the girl's antics as he shouldered the saddlebags and scooped up the Demon.
Rain continued to steadily pour from the dark skies.
In fact, Fieri didn't think it'd stopped once over the past day.
It was bad for business, but he'd be damned before he left the protection of his rollout awning. Knowing that someone would eventually come. He just needed patience.
But as he sat beneath the shelter provided by his armored vehicle, chin resting atop his knuckles, Fieri would admit to one thing: the weather made for a long, sleepy day.
The large man adjusted himself in the chair. Eyeing the wet streets and his fellow caravaneers. The lot of them slumped in their seats. Some huddled beneath umbrellas and awnings. Others pulling their hats and hoods down further.
An older man rivaling himself in height stopped before him, downturned eyes tired. "Hey, Marty," Fieri greeted as he unfolded a chair. "Care to sit?"
"Gladly," the fair man groaned, sinking down. He pulled off his hat and shook it free of water. "A fair bit of the group is planning on packing it up."
"On such a lovely day?! No!" Fieri snarked. "Someone is bound to come by."
"Maybe the two drowned rats?"
"Huh?" Fieri leaned forward to peer around Marty, a broad smile brightening his features. It didn't take much for him to recognize the pair as they strode down the street. "Oh! Looks like they're stopping in today!"
"The Hunter and the girl?" At Fieri's enthusiastic nod, Marty rubbed at his neck, head shaking. "I dunno about them. Heard they got into a bit of trouble yesterday."
"They're good people."
"Fieri, two men were pronounced dead on the spot! And two others were carted off to the hospital!"
"Not for no reason!" the darker merchant snapped. "That man doesn't kill for pleasure."
Silence, and they waited as the two travelers came up to Fieri's stand.
As he stood to greet them, Fieri felt his guts twist anxiously at the sight of Krista's face. Horrified that the gash stretched so far. Looked so deep. "Sonuvabitch."
"Aren't I pretty?" Krista responded playfully. Limping up to him. "I think D did pretty good with the stitches."
"What happened? Marty mentioned there was some drama yesterday, but he didn't elaborate much."
"Well, I went to pee in the tavern's public restroom. A few guys later and I look like this!" She ran her fingers over her closed eye. Frowning briefly. "I remember a bit more now, but some bits are still a little foggy. And I still can't figure out what they were trying to do."
Fieri listened attentively, but he found his eyes wandering her body. Taking in the bruising littering her flesh from the neck down. The rope burns twisting about her arms like snakes. And slowly, he turned a critical eye on D. Silently asking how she didn't know.
In a movement so slight he almost missed it, D shook his head. And Fieri knew then to drop it.
He didn't entirely agree with the Hunter's decision, but he said nothing. If the man thought that this was best for now, he would leave it be.
"Well! Next time, you try to give someone the ol' what-fer!"
"Oh, I'm sure D will get me all learned up!"
"He better!" he laughed, but he cut his eyes at the man in black one more time.
To his surprise, D softly nodded.
Alright.
"So, did you come to see the stuff?"
"The stuff? Oh! Yes, the stuff. Show us the stuff."
Fieri turned and reached for the large hatch. Sending Marty a smug smile as he waved him to one side. It popped open with a loud hiss, fog cascading out and down the sides. "So, what are y'all looking for? Fruits? Vegetables? Grains? Dairy? Nuts? Because I know D doesn't eat much. But you!" He shook a finger at her and laughed heartily. "You can eat!"
"Sometimes!" She laughed a moment before it petered off into an uncomfortable smile. Wishing her stomach wasn't so finicky. "Do you have any tart fruits? Or just… not sweet food?"
"Of course!" He flicked open another hatch and pulled out a slim cannister filled with slices and chunks of various fruits. Pointing out the ones she'd want.
And from there, they moved through his entire inventory. Anything that would keep for a long time (because Krista seriously doubted they could install an icebox in the horse) and would not upset her stomach. Bits that were poked at D were ingested, but he didn't give her much input.
In the end, she walked away with a bag of spicy seeds that popped in her mouth, dried meat, fire-salts cheese, and two jars of pickles. One that was plain dill. One that was Fieri's own making that had a bit of kick.
And D watched the girl hop from foot to foot in her excitement. Purposefully ignoring her aches and pains for just a moment as she held the jars above her head and danced about.
Yes. Her personality and innocence were still a welcome change in this world that seemed to have it in for the best of them.
With the streets empty and slick, Krista found herself bouncing around like a maniac. Stomping in every puddle along the path to the tailor's shop. The activity seeming to stretch out her sore muscles and bring her a small amount of relief. And she had no fear of being seen without her cloak. Arms spread wide.
By the time they arrived, she looked as if she'd just stepped from the shower. Hair dripping and clinging to her forehead. Beneath the awning, she kicked off her boots and draped her cloak over the top.
The bell above the door clanged loudly.
Sitting against the far wall, the tailor and sheriff chatted. The gruffer man tapping his cane to a rhythm only he could hear. But all talk ceased once they entered, and the sheriff's bushy brows rose into his hairline.
"Well, color me surprised," he said. "I didn't expect you to be up and about today."
Krista gave a small shrug and an even smaller smile. "D is pretty good at patching me up."
There was a heavy pause as the man leaned forward and rapped the cane on the floor with a loud clack. "But he can't patch up everything. Can you, Dhampir?"
She was immediately uncomfortable. Shrinking back until D pressed a hand to the shoulder closest to him. When she looked up at him, he inclined his head towards the tailor.
"Try on your clothes. I'll be here."
Her eye turned back to the sheriff warily. But eventually, it found the tailor. Much more pleasant and welcoming in appearance. At his little wave, she followed him into the back. Out of sight of her companions. Into a small room with a shiny cardboard box in the corner.
"A couple of things to know about your clothes, girl," the tailor started. "One: they might be a bit loose. I planned them that way to fit your armor and any filling out you might do."
"Okay."
He held up two fingers. "Two: they are made with a self-mending fabric blend, then treated with you-name-it resistant dyes."
"But I shouldn't expect to fall into shit and come out smelling like roses?"
The older gentleman pushed his spectacles up until they were safely nestled in his hair as he released a sharp laugh. "Yes, I suppose that's one way of putting it, girl." He reached around the corner and pulled out a few more boxes. Handing them over with a grunt. "And I took the liberty of contacting the cobbler on the off-chance you didn't."
Krista's eye sparkled as she took them inside. Giggling excitedly, she shut the door with a squealed 'thank you'. Rushing to look through the new clothes.
Poet shirts.
Beautiful pastel poet shirts.
Baby pink. A soft teal. Pale green. And a light, earthy brown.
And four pairs of riding breeches.
For a moment, she felt it was too much.
She felt spoiled.
But wiggling into the soft material, she decided it didn't matter.
She gingerly ran her fingertips over the stitches in her face as she pulled her hair out of the pink shirt. Smiling broadly. "I love it!" she exclaimed.
No response.
With a hum, she tried on the boots. Wondering if he just needed to tend to someone else as she found the pair that fit. It was as she was gathering everything in her arms that she heard it.
The sheriff's gruff voice. Carrying across the store and rising in intensity.
And then, a crash that had her scrambling, boots in hand, towards the front of the store. Stumbling to an abrupt halt at the corner as she smacked into the Hunter's agitated aura.
"She needs to settle down! Not go chasing after creatures of the night! And after what she went through yesterday, you think continuing this with her is smart?! That girl looks ready to buy the farm!"
"She is stronger than you think, and she chose this path. I will help her see it through."
She could hear them clearly now. D's low timbre, soft but threatening as he rebutted what the sheriff said. And even if the sheriff wasn't angry at her, the way he said 'that girl' made her want to escape.
Slink out of the shop and scrub the dirt off her flesh.
She couldn't explain it.
"See it through?! The only thing you'll help her see is an early grave!"
She peeked around the corner.
If she hadn't wanted to flee before, she certainly did now.
Mustache as fierce as his steely gaze twitching, the sheriff had angled up his cane. Jabbing it into the Hunter's chest as his free hand waved and flapped with each word.
But that cane kept prodding.
She figured that if the older man was smart, he'd stop. Because while she just barely remembered the expression on D's face the prior day, she was still surprised to see him in such a mood at that moment. A dark look that pulled his lips tight and narrowed his gaze shadowing his face.
She didn't like that they were upset at one another, but there wasn't much she could do. Except hope that the Hunter's patience didn't run out, because the tailor didn't seem to be defusing the situation much (try as he might).
"What with the way you refused to have the doctor tend to her! What if she has trauma?! Or is now carrying –!"
"He didn't make it that far, on either account."
"How do you know that for certain?! Did you ask her?!"
"She does not understand."
"What do you mean she doesn't understand?! She's a grown woman!"
Krista ducked back around the corner. Ashamed, but not sure why.
"She was never taught, and I don't find right now to be an appropriate time for such a discussion. Nor do I find it to be any of your concern."
"And somehow you're more entitled to decide when and what she learns?! If you aren't her father, her brother, or her lover, I don't think even the mighty D has the right to keep her in the dark!"
"I will teach her, but not now."
Silence.
Leaden.
Uncomfortable.
"Garrett, I agree with the Hunter. At least… for the time being. Someday, she will have to know."
More quiet.
A soft sigh.
"Krista, you can come out."
She crept out. Still uncomfortable. Wishing she weren't so in the dark, but unable to stop the curving of her lips as she approached the Hunter. "Hey, you said my name."
"I did."
Without another word, Krista dipped down to deposit her items. And it wasn't until there was an explosion of clothing that she remembered she had a cursed touch.
As her boisterous laugh bounced around the room, D found himself momentarily and minutely staggered. Knowing she was in pain, physically and emotionally. But still so quick to laugh. Something he'd taken note of before that moment.
Especially the night prior. When she was visibly upset but still able to joke about her bladder popping.
Yes, she had her 'everything is terrible' moments, but it was moments like these where her nature truly shined.
As he was repacking the bags, the tailor took Krista off to pay. When they came back, the man was carrying a set of medium saddlebags. He passed them off to D with a subtle glare aimed at the sheriff. "Consider the bags a… consolation gift, if you will."
D nodded in thanks. And in the bags went everything that belonged to Krista so they could avoid another explosion of items.
It was nice. Air lighter in the room as she bounced about and admired clothes she would never wear. Chatting with the tailor. And the sheriff seated in the corner, not saying a word.
But of course, all good things must end.
The hair on his neck rose and, from the inner folds of his coat, Erembour growled.
Shouts echoed from down the street.
"Put on your boots."
She leaned into his view, grey eye wide. "Because of the yellin'?"
At his nod, she tugged on the boots and profusely thanked the tailor who hadn't yet heard the commotion. Meeting D outside to pull on her cloak and toss out her ruined boots. The sheriff did not follow. And she doubted they knew anything was going on.
In the distance, they could see the crowd clogging the street. People yelling and running about. Krista looked back at D. "Can you catch what's got them riled up?"
Eyes closed, he listened. Turning his head just a bit. "Someone has been found drained of blood."
"And they think it was us?"
"Perhaps."
She glanced about. "Can we avoid them to get to the stables?"
Another bout of listening. "There are people watching for us there."
"Then we just walk into their little group and see what's up?"
"Not much choice."
"Well, we could ditch the horse and sneak out the gate," Hand interjected.
D and Krista both threw that option off the table. And that was just before they all heard the screech of the gates slamming down. So…
"Seems that even if we wanted to, we can't."
Trapped. Like rats.
And only one thing they could do.
D led the way. Guiding her down the street with a calmness she didn't feel.
It took everything in her not to tear off screaming when a man stepped out of an alley to their left and yelled, "You there! Have you seen…"
She whirled around to look at him. Watching as his face scrunched up in disgust. Then realization. Finally, anger.
He leveled his gun at them and loosed a sharp whistle. "Oi! I found 'em!"
And the people descended upon them much like ants to sugar. Effectively surrounding them and blocking their exit. And the man from before, wary and suspicious, said, "Woman was found drained of her blood. Seein' what you are and how you two killed a couple of men yesterday without any problem, you happen to be our only suspects."
Krista turned her petrified gaze upon the Hunter. Feeling decidedly ill as she realized just how dangerous their situation was, and that two people had ended up dead. "D?" her voice wavered. "Did we kill someone?"
"Oh, don't play stupid!" A woman stepped forth this time with her rifle at the ready. Muzzle aimed at Krista's chest. "Because of you, my brother and his friend are dead!"
The air thickened with the mounting tension.
And Krista?
Krista felt like crying. Any sense of safety flew out the window. Any bravery she'd managed to gather.
Gone.
"We did cause the deaths of two men," D eventually spoke. Watching as the crowd became abuzz with this confirmed information. Watching as Krista paled in horror. "Although, I believe self-defense and murder are two very different things."
More murmurings as the crowd contemplated the implications of his words.
But the woman persisted. Jerking her firearm as she shouted, "Yeah? And what about your raw steaks?!"
Krista threw her hands in the air. "What does that have to do with anything?! I haven't been able to eat properly in the last two months! So forgive me if an undercooked steak is the one thing I can eat more than two bites of without wanting to vomit!"
The woman snorted derisively. "Or you found out your steaks just weren't cutting it and tried to find something fresh. Probably earned that ugly scar and realized that not all Humans are weak!"
Now, Krista did openly weep. Overwhelmed. Briefly wondering if she did deserve her wound as her fingers trailed up the line of stitches. Nails digging in. But she knew.
Knew that nothing she did earned her anything she received in the bathroom.
In place of all else, anger reared its ugly head. "I just wanted to pee! I don't see how that earned me a spot on the bathroom floor with a fucked-up face!"
This seemed to take the woman aback. Green eyes wide for a moment before she turned her sights to D. "Well, that doesn't excuse the Dhampir!"
"That 'Dhampir' is the Vampire Hunter, D!" came a booming voice. And with a few shoves and choice words, Fieri pushed his way through the crowd until he stood at their side. Angled himself between Krista and the muzzle of the rifle. "One would think he'd avoid becoming the very thing he hunts."
"And you could very well be a thrall," she growled. "Saying all of this just because they willed it."
"And maybe your brother deserved what he got!"
The resounding blast silenced the aghast crowd.
With nary a sound, Fieri crumpled at their feet.