No guards stood watch near the wagon. He took that as a good sign. “Guess that’s a good sign,” he muttered anyway, just to break the quiet.
Zinkle’s black carriage sat ahead, the lacquered wood gleaming faintly in the starlight. Another open wagon was parked behind his, piled high with crates and barrels. Their small caravan rested along the dirt road where it sloped down the mountainside. On the other side, an open field stretched out like a shallow bowl before the mountain rose again.
A camp had been set up there.
Soldiers moved among a row of tents, a few campfires dotting the ground. There were more than had traveled with them, but not many more. A dozen new faces maybe, twenty at most. The smell of cooking drifted across the night air, beans and onions, and the muted voices of conversation.
At the far end of the camp stood a single larger tent, squared off and heavy canvas, a guard posted at its entrance. The man held a spear upright, shield strapped to one arm.
Harry figured that had to be Zinkle’s.
He started toward it.
The guard shifted his stance when Harry drew close, lowering the spear across the tent flap. “Back off,” the man said quietly. “The Master does not wish to be disturbed.”
Harry stopped. “Is Zinkle inside? I need to speak with him.”
The guard’s eyes ran over him and his chin lifted a fraction. “If the Master wished to speak with you, he’d have sent for you.”
Harry lifted both hands, palms out. “Fine. I’m heading out to hunt. Just thought he’d like to know.”
The guard’s lip curled slightly. “Unauthorized exit from camp is unauthorized,” he said, as if quoting a rule. “If you need food, beans and bread are available at the fires.”
Harry stared at him. “Beans and bread aren’t going to do it for me.”
The guard squared his shoulders and put a very stern expression on his face. It looked like one he had been practicing. “Violation of camp rules is subject to severe punishment.”
Harry noted that during this whole exchange, the guard was still keeping his voice low.
“Suit yourself,” Harry said. “You can explain to Zinkle why I left without him being told.”
The guard’s eyes darted toward the tent flap, his face going from stern to nervous. “Well, um… if you’d wait, the sergeant will be along shortly and you can explain to him.”
Harry tilted his head. “You can’t just pop your head in and let him know?”
The man’s face had started to shine with sweat. “The Master reaaally doesn’t like to be disturbed.”
Harry sighed. “If I wait here, can you go get your sergeant?”
The guard shook his head fast. “Leaving my post would be a violation of camp rules.”
Harry gave a tired half-smile. “And subject to punishment. Alright, I understand. Didn’t mean to cause you trouble.”
The guard visibly relaxed. “Thank you, sir.”
Harry stepped back. “System, how do I send Sally a party invitation?”
:: System: Contact information for Salvatrix Carnailis has already been saved in your interface. You may call up your contact list and send her an invitation, or alternatively, I can send it for you.
“Nice, do that please.”
Harry shrugged at the guard’s curious stare and stood waiting. Nothing happened. He checked his meter again.
Oh well, I tried to tell ‘em.
H: 75 | V: 73 | TM: 27%
He started walking toward the edge of camp, looking for the best way out, when a message appeared.
:: Salvatrix Carnailis has accepted your party invitation.
:: You are now the party leader.
:: No other party members at present.
Sally’s voice came through the link, soft and groggy.
- Sally: Harry?
- Harry: Sally, I’m sorry to bother you, but I have a situation.
Her tone sharpened instantly.
- Sally: What’s happened?
- Harry: Nothing yet. But I need to, my… ugh… I need to feed. I tried to let Zinkle know I was stepping out of the camp, but apparently he doesn’t like to be disturbed.
- Sally: If you’re going to step out of camp, the smart thing to do would be to keep stepping. Get out of here, Harry.
- Harry: Let’s not beat that dead horse. I’m just wondering if you could let him know.
- Sally: Why would you beat a dead horse?
- Harry: Exactly my point. Can you tell him?
She let out a deep sigh.
- Sally: Yes. Give me a minute.
Harry turned and retraced his steps toward Zinkle’s tent but stopped when he heard movement behind him. Sally was climbing down from the black carriage.
- Harry: Oh… I thought you were in the tent.
- Sally: No.
Harry watched her approach.
- Harry: Is it better to talk, or should we stay like this?
- Sally: Just stay in chat.
Sally walked quickly up to the tent, at her approach the guard grabbed one flap and held it open. Harry raised one eyebrow at the guard, he gave a sheepish grin and shrugged.
Harry heard voices coming from the tent. He could make them out easily. Probably thanks to his super vampire hearing. Apparently Zinkle really did not like being woken but when he realized it was Sally and what she was asking for his tone changed.
He sounds excited. That isn’t worrisome at all.
System, if he drags out a prisoner for me to bite we are making a break for it.
:: System: Duly noted.
A few minutes later, Otho emerged from the tent.
The guard snapped to attention and somehow reached for the tent flap at the same time.
Zinkle came out next, a wide smile on his face and rubbing his hands together. His pompadour was a flattened mess, but he didn’t seem to care.
Sally came out last and stood to one side.
Zinkle spread his arms wide like he was taking the stage.
“I’m given to know, you are in need of sustenance?” Zinkle said, his voice rich with theatrical flourish.
- Harry: Is he going to make a big production out of this?
- Sally: Almost certainly.
Harry hesitated and looked around before leaning in. “Yes. If, if you have a cow or maybe a pig? A live one.”
Zinkle looked back at Otho, who had taken a stance a few feet behind and to the side. “He’d like a cow or pig. Otho, do we have a cow or a pig on hand?”
Otho grunted.
Zinkle turned back to Harry with an exaggerated sad expression. “Ah, too bad. But no need to worry. You are an honored guest. I’ve made preparations to take care of your needs.”
This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.
- Harry: If he brings out a prisoner or something, I am out of here.
- Sally: No, he won’t do that. Not in front of witnesses.
Zinkle turned to the guard still holding the tent flap open and looking nervous.
“Idiot, what are you doing? Fetch Captain Anders at once,” Zinkle barked.
The guard dropped the tent flap and snapped to attention. “Yes, Master Doomcaller.” He sprinted away toward the campfires.
Sally let out a small yawn. “Alright, you boys have fun. I am returning to my rest.” She started walking back toward the carriage.
“You’ll miss the show,” Zinkle said, sounding disappointed.
Sally stopped, turned, and gave Harry a sympathetic look. “I’ve seen it.”
Zinkle looked at Harry with a shrug. “I don’t know which is more inscrutable, women or demons. The deities help anyone who has to deal with both in one body.”
- Harry: Demon?
- Sally: What did you think ‘from another plane’ meant, Harry?
- Harry: Fair.
Harry focused back on Zinkle and wished he hadn’t. The little man was rocking back and forth on the toes of his feet, and when he caught Harry’s eye he gave an exaggerated wiggle of his eyebrows.
Harry was saved from further conversation by the approach of the officer with his little baton and another soldier leading a horse.
When they came to a halt, Zinkle spread his arms wide. “Tada! Dinner is served.”
Harry stood in stunned silence. Uncertain, he just stared at the animal, unsure what to do.
“Well, go ahead,” Zinkle said, his voice light and amused. “This should be interesting.”
Harry looked around, still unsure. “You want me to...?”
“Yes. Go on.” Zinkle’s tone was almost gleeful, a hint of excitement in his voice. “She’s near lame. We were going to have to put her down soon anyway.”
“If it’s… I’d like more privacy,” Harry said.
Zinkle raised his eyebrows. “Bashful? I didn’t expect that.” He turned on his heels and started walking around to the back of the tent, Otho falling into step behind him.
Not expecting it, Harry hesitated, glanced to the guard holding the horse’s halter, and hurried to catch up.
He joined Zinkle and Otho at the back of the tent, the officer and the guard leading the horse following just a few steps behind.
Zinkle folded his hands behind his back and gave Harry a patient smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Will this suit your delicate sensibilities?”
Harry only nodded and studied the horse. She looked old and tired, head hanging low as she stared at the ground. He smelled her musky, earthy scent, tinged with a faint dusty sweetness. He could also feel the steady rhythm of her strong heart beating quietly in the stillness. His Blood Sense showed him her thread, long and frayed.
Harry glanced toward Zinkle, who made an exaggerated hurry-it-up motion.
He turned back to the horse and took a tentative step forward, his body stiff, his mind racing. The ache started in his jaws, and his heart began pounding faster.
“Don’t be embarrassed,” Zinkle said with a mocking smile. “We’re all friends here.”
Harry stood in front of the horse, his breath shallow. He could feel and hear its heartbeat, every pulse calling to him. He locked eyes with it and willed mesmerize to cast.
:: Skill [Mesmerize]: Successful (Active, cost: 1 vitae)
H: 75 | V: 72 | TM: 28%
The horse’s placid expression remained unchanged. Apparently being mind-controlled by a vampire wasn’t a significant change in its routine.
Harry moved to the horse’s neck, considering. No way was he crawling under the horse to use the vein in its leg with Zinkle watching. His fangs came out to play, and his mouth flooded with saliva, the hunger rising.
He thought about using sip to spare its life, but Zinkle had made it clear she was doomed regardless. He thought about using frenzy to avoid seeing and feeling what he was about to do, but that was dangerous. What would happen if he lost control?
He wrapped his arm around the animal’s neck and willed his strength to increase. Fortunately, being familiar with horse anatomy, he found the right spot and drove his fangs in with a powerful thrust of his head.
He cast drain, and the ecstasy was instant, a perfect blend of satisfaction and pleasure, like indulging in good food combined with the rush of great sex. He lost himself in the enjoyment of it, the world around him fading as he fed. In the back of his mind, he was vaguely aware of panting and moaning. Only when he felt the horse’s heartbeat slow, then stop, did he pull away.
He looked around. He was kneeling beside the horse, which had slumped to the ground at some point. Its huge heart silenced. He wanted to feel horrified. But instead, he felt strong. Full. Alive. He laid a gentle hand on the horse’s shoulder.
In his years as a vet he’d had to put down many a family pet. It was never easy. But this felt personal in a way that never had.
I’m sorry girl. I hope you’re at peace now.
He looked up, the guard, who was no longer holding the halter, stood several yards away. A look of horror twisted his face, and Harry guessed he was on the verge of fleeing in panic.
Zinkle, on the other hand, seemed delighted. He was practically dancing in place, his expression one of pure satisfaction.
“That was wonderful. Truly.” Zinkle’s voice was almost giddy.
As Harry stood, Zinkle made a pointed nod and wiggled his eyebrows. “You seemed to really enjoy it too.”
Harry felt the pressure in his pants and looked down. Another erection. So that hadn’t been from Sally last time.
Dammit. I could get a really bad reputation from this.
“That’s just something that happens… the blood,” Harry muttered, his voice tight.
Zinkle’s grinned widened and his voice dropped low. “Of course. Don’t worry about it. You’d be impressed at the things that put the spark in my rod of power.”
Harry stood there for a moment, at a loss for words. What was he supposed to say to that? His mind raced, but his mouth stayed shut. Instead, he checked the messages that had slid down to the corner of his vision.
:: Skill [Drain] (+35 Health, cap exceeded, -1/sec) (+35 Vitae, cap exceeded, -1/sec)
H: 110 | V: 107 | TM: 0%
Strong as a horse isn’t just something Catherine the Great made up.
Zinkle's enthusiasm seemed to finally be spent. He waved a hand dismissively. “That was informative. I’ll have something else prepared before you enter the dungeon. For now, I return to my slumber.”
He turned toward the front of the tent, his boots thumping softly on the ground.
Harry stood watching Zinkle walk away, Otho falling in behind him. The captain and the guard, seeing they were now alone with Harry, exchanged a look and quickly circled around the tent to get away.
He ran a hand over his jaw. It came away wet, coated in blood. He’d have to learn to carry a towel. In the meantime, he drew up his cloak and used a bottom corner to scrub his face.
He started walking back toward his cart but stopped when he saw the carriage.
Oh crap, am I still in chat?
- Harry: Sally?
When Sally responded, she sounded breathless and husky again, like when he’d woken her before.
- Sally: Hello, Harry.
- Harry: I’m sorry you had to hear that. You’ve caught me at all my worst moments, the alley, getting kicked in the bar, and now this.
- Sally: It just shows you’re still human.
- Harry: That’s kind of you to say. But it makes me worry about the kind of people you associate with.
Sally laughed.
- Sally: I can’t argue with that. Harry, is it always like that? So intense?
Harry hesitated, embarrassed to talk about it.
- Harry: Yeah. It’s… it reminds me of an old joke, about a horse behind a tent.
- Sally: Oh, tell me.
- Harry: What? No, it’s old and dumb.
- Sally: Maybe where you come from.
- Harry: No, really. It’s not appropriate for mixed company.
- Sally: You can’t say that and then not tell me. Come on, Harry.
Harry let out a deep sigh, climbing back into his cart.
- Harry: Fine but remember you asked.
- Harry: So, there’s this new recruit who’s joined the army and finished his training. He’s been at his new base for months with no time off and he is starting to miss the companionship of the fairer sex.
- Sally: Go on.
- Harry: You’re sure you haven’t heard this.
- Sally: Stop stalling. Get on with it.
- Harry: Fine. So he goes to his sergeant and explains the situation, the old veteran nods wisely and says, “Just use the horse behind the mess tent.”
- Sally: Oh no.
- Harry: Yeah. So anyway…
By the end of the story, Sally was laughing loud enough he could hear her through the walls of his cart and the carriage she was in.
Harry shrugged.
I guess bound demons don’t get much entertainment.
Harry waited for her giggles to die down.
- Harry: What happens now?
- Sally: We’ll stay here till morning then head out. We’ll reach the dungeon by evening. The rest of the party should already be there.
- Harry: Sounds good.
- Sally: You’re really going to go through with it?
- Harry: You wouldn’t deny me another chance to be a hero, would you?
- Sally: This is no time for jokes.
- Harry: I tried to tell you that, but you wouldn’t listen.
- Sally: You have never even seen a dungeon.
- Harry: I’ve never been a vampire either. Lots of new stuff happening these days.
Sally was quiet for a minute. Harry waited. When she spoke again it was in a whisper.
- Sally: Thank you, Harry.
- Harry: Tell me what you know about the others going in with me.
***
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