Vale… Is Not a Vampire?

I clung to the ground, clawing to get away from the residual Tonaltus that still hung thick in the air before it unmade me entirely. Even passing by me with more than a foot to spare, that little stone charged with Tonaltus had nearly ripped all of me to shreds. The side of my face was little more than blood on skull. The entire left side of my body had been reduced to nothing but agony on bone.

Lacing my Metzus through my bones, I animated my vessel with sheer force of magic where muscle and tendon and nerves had been whisked away. At any other time, I could have probably considered it a clever way to keep my body going. Not then. I was nothing but raw, primal survival instinct and unfettered hunger screaming for desperate safety.

What saved me was not intelligence on my part, but simply that no second shot followed. The cloud of debris was so dense that sand and rock were the only things left. The blood on my tongue had the dry, gritty texture of dust. The air hung thick with the salty taste of pulverized rock. Ashen smoke obscured all sight, damped all sound, and hid me completely from view.

I scrambled along blind, even scent and taste failing me, until I was past the worst of the dust cloud. An empty corridor awaited me. The stairs out of the dungeon were a little further to the right. It was an exit. I clawed, crawled, clambered for the doorway. Freedom. Safety. Escape.

Swaying on unsteady legs, I dove for the staircase.

A blade sliced the air, sharp-edged steel flashing towards my head. I ducked away at the same time the attack was held in. The sword’s hastily altered trajectory sailed over my head while I rolled hard and uncomfortable on the first steps of the stairs.

Snarling and hissing, I clawed myself back to my feet. No time to think about how the sharp stone edges of the steps had further mushed my wounded side to a pulp. Brandishing Irina’s Inquisitor blade, I launched myself at the prey that had dared to attack me. I leaped for the unexpectedly relieved snack, this surprised Sorrow-blood meal that was… mine?

It wasn’t an attack. He’d been covering our retreat, waiting for me. Twisting my leap into a shove, I worked my pet up the stairs. “Go! Run!” I growled. The noises burbling out of my throat sounded more a thing of the blood pooling in my mouth and drifting past my lips than actual words.

With a fresh heaping of terror and a surprising amount of efficient obedience, my snack dashed up the stairs, two, three, four steps at a time.

I spiraled up the tower right after him. I could hardly believe it. Despite his well-founded fear and hatred and his often-voiced desire to leave me behind, the Sorrow-blood had been the one that had waited for me. My two pet Inquisitors had covered my back when I got my dad out. They had stood by me in a trap that had never been a hindrance for them. Unlike me, they had probably known how deadly the Spring-chicken Inquisitor’s weapon had been all along.

This was wrong. They were mere disposable tools to aid in my escape. Assets I could exploit or discard. Mere prey. Insignificant. They weren’t supposed to care for me. I shouldn’t be claiming them, and definitely not the despicably worthless Sorrow-blood.

“Irina?” I snarled up at my Sorrow-snack, because that fearless woman’s absence was suspicious.

He wheezed out something unintelligible between panting breaths, but he didn’t taste any more worried, and his gaze shifted further ahead.

Not killed in the blast, then. The crafty Elderwood-poison blood was probably already securing our escape. That was good. I needed her alive. She still owed me an explanation on this Retivius person, and why the hell he was so important.

The Sorrow-blood and I burst out onto the battlement. Wildly looking around, we tried to orient ourselves. There was no prey up here so far. Down in the courtyard though, fully armored snacks were spilling out of buildings and lining up like a buffet. Crossbows, swords, shields, and all manner of exotic weaponry was being dealt out. The first contingent of meals was already heading for the stairs that led from the courtyard to our position. Together with the two Inquisitors almost certainly still on our tail, it meant we would be overrun in seconds.

My Sorrow-blood squinted into the dark, his weak eyes struggling to adapt to a pitch-black night with even the moon and stars obscured by clouds. I directed my pet to the left, where ropes were secured around the merlons and Honey-blood Irina was preparing to rappel down the side of the fort, gave him a gentle shove so he would keep running, and raced after him.

Irina was alone. There was no trace of my dad or the three Inquisitors who had been protecting him. “Dad?” I hissed at her.

While I waited for her answer, I pushed my injured left side to regrow faster. The arm was still numb and mostly useless. It was a dangerous thing I did, forcing my body to heal. I was spent, starving, and could feel my rationality slipping with every inch of flesh that knitted back together.

The Elderberry-poison’s reply drifted past me, words failing to register, but she briefly gestured over the wall with her head, and that was enough confirmation. Her companions and my dad were already safely out. She gestured towards Piers next, pulling him closer, intending to allow him to go first.

“No!” I growled, pushed Piers back, and forced her over the crenelations. She had already secured herself. Her going down first would be faster.

A crossbow bolt sailed past me. I moved to the side, glancing in the direction it had come from. A single terrified inquisitor snack, weapon nearly trembling out of his hands, stood at the top of the stairs. Behind the coward who had wasted his shot, an entire squad of Inquisitors lined up their crossbows. From the other direction, panting footfalls and the telltale hum of the giant death rig ascended the stairs we had come from. Sung, the Spring-chicken, and instant death.

I dove, creating even more distance between me and Piers, who was busy crawling over the edge. A volley of bolts whizzed past me, missing me by a hair.

The Spring-chicken’s fringe of hair crested the top of the stairs. I scrambled to my feet and rushed at the squad of reloading crossbowmen, hoping she wouldn’t dare fire that nightmare weapon in the direction of her own people.

An explosion of rock from behind me threw me off my feet. While I rolled to a stop, shrapnel and debris rained down around me, but it was the blood-curdling scream that had my attention snap to my Sorrow-blood. Two of the crenelations right next to him were simply gone. Blood and rock were everywhere. His shoulder closest to the blast was nothing but exposed bone and tendon. One feeble hand desperately grasped for the ropes.

With a lurch, his body slipped over the edge.

I threw my blade at the crossbow squad, not caring who or what or even if I’d be able to hit someone. Swords weren’t balanced for throwing. A single moment of confusion was all I could hope for. I launched myself at the edge, reached over the remains of the crenelations, and hooked my claws into Piers’ armor before he could fall out of reach. Even with one of his arms blown clear off, his massive bulk threatened to drag me down with him, so I let go again and pulled the dagger from the bandolier around his chest.

The Sorrow-blood screamed even more, as his pain-addled mind grappled with how I had appeared to save him and then doom him once more. I heard him slide down and struggle with the rope, but had no more time to waste on my pet.

The Creeping-vines predator had burst out of the tower as well. He circled left, closing in and cutting off that avenue of escape. The Spring-chicken had loaded another rock and was priming another shot.

Without even testing the balance of the dagger, I threw it at the Spring-chicken and launched myself over the wall. My injured left hand trailed the rope as I looped an elbow around it, keeping the rope close to me as I soared toward the ground.

Mid-fall I crashed into my Sorrow-blood pet. I hooked my good arm under his elbow, pulling him down with me. My eyes pierced the darkness, sought the ground, judged the distance, and when I thought us lethally close I coiled my badly-healed left arm tightly around the rope.

I was inhumanly strong, especially at night, but in the end my vessel still followed a human template. The rope tore into my arm, shredding barely regrown flesh and muscle and tendon alike. My shoulder burst apart once more under the sudden weight of two adults in freefall.

The ground was there. The much taller meal I was holding hit it first, screaming as he crumpled under me. Then he stopped screaming entirely.

With a jolt, my feet hit the ground right after. I rolled off of the meat, squirmed under it, pushed it onto my back, struggled upright, and stumbled after Elder-poison Irina. I tried to run, but the Sorrow-snack was heavy. So damned heavy. And no matter how strong I was, he was still a massive dead weight on my back that completely destroyed my balance.

Still, I slipped in between large boulders, past bushes, and down ledges at a dangerous pace. Several times my legs buckled beneath me as I struggled with the load I was carrying. It would be so much easier if I could just drop him, but after this, I needed something large and healthy to snack on and I wasn’t letting go of my prey.

My left arm hung limp. It was trailing blood and meat and rope. More of my meager flesh sloughed off it with every tiring step. The need to feed was overwhelming. Primal terror was the only thing stopping me from sinking my fangs into the slab of Sorrow-blood meat hefted onto my back.

Crossbow bolts whizzed through the air. Ballistic projectiles from the murder-weapon rocked the earth, thankfully far enough off the mark in this pitch-dark night.

I caught up to the Elder-poison pet, bathing in her own runelight enchantments like the stupid-blind prey she was. I snarled at her to douse the light. Pushed past her without pausing.

Something slammed into my meat shield and pierced it all the way through. The unexpected force had me stumbling forward. I rolled, plucked the food up once more, and kept running.

The Honey-blood realized the threat her light posed. She doused the enchantment, and then she was at my mercy. It was too dark for her. If she lost sight of me for even a moment, or fell too far behind, she would be lost.

Then, mercifully, we were finally in between the trees. The barrage of projectiles trailing after us stopped. No one streamed out of the fort to chase us. No Inquisitors were stupid enough to follow a vampire into a dark forest at night. I listened anyway. Nothing but the breathing and the singular heartbeat of the meal with me. Just her and me. We were out. As long as we kept moving we were safe.

The female lit her light again, shambling forward on shaky legs, deeper into the forest because the edge of it was nowhere near safe enough.

I struggled after her.

Singular… heartbeat?

Only one.

I dropped the sack of meat. Dead flesh hit the cold forest floor with a dry thump.

My Honey-blood meal turned. Stared. With a panicked gasp, she rushed for the corpse I had dropped. Screaming, she pushed me aside. Spewing incoherent rage-filled shouts at me, she reached for the body, touched it, shook it.

Weeping, she lifted the dead human’s head. Whimpering, she trailed fingers over unseeing eyes. Silent, she crumpled on top of my feast.

Snarling, I dragged her off.

My food!

Mine!

She clung to me, growling like a rabid animal, clawing with uselessly weak fingers.

Need alive!

I growled, snapped at her, threw her, and lunged for my food. I peeled apart the Sorrow-blood’s inedible shell. Exposed the tender flesh.

Just one bite.

Only one!

She came at me again.

I hissed, a final, cold, warning.

She crumpled to the ground, wailing, weeping, begging me to feed on her as well.

I couldn’t.

Needed her.

Couldn’t. Couldn’t. Couldn’t.

Feed!