An orc woman spun to face the charging bear, herbs scattering from her gathering basket. Her movement held none of the mechanical precision Sebastian was used to, all organic grace and natural power. She stumbled slightly as she backed away, her hand catching on the sharp edge of her gathering knife. Blood welled from the cut across her palm.
Something had drawn orc blood. The scent hit Sebastian like a physical blow. Untainted. Unprocessed. Completely natural. His fangs descended fully, hunger drowning out centuries of carefully trained control. The bear forgotten, he moved without conscious thought,mechanical improvements driving him toward that pure organic aroma.
The orc woman's eyes widened, magic already flaring around her injured hand—wild and green and unlike the carefully regulated enchantments of his father's citadel. Not with the familiar terror of prey, but with something closer to recognition. As if she'd been expecting him.
Magic exploded outward, green and gold and entirely organic. The spell hit him in waves, each surge shutting down another mechanical enhancement. First his enhanced senses failed, the carefully calibrated receptors in his eyes and ears dying. Then his brass-reinforced spine seized, components grinding to a halt as magic like molten gold seared through his veins.
Sebastian tried to dismount before he fell, but his mechanical reflexes were already failing. He crashed to the ground, steam venting erratically from his collar as his horse screamed and bolted.
"What's happening?" He tried to ask, but his voice came out wrong, too organic, too human.
The orc woman stood over him, her magic still flowing. Strings of power wrapped around his limbs like vines, seeking out every brass joint and copper thread. Finding every "improvement" his father's artificers had grafted into his flesh. There was a stab of pain as each one shut down, the vibration of gears slowed, the warm blast of steam on his cheek became irregular.
He tried to move, to fight, to do anything. But his mechanical components were dead weight, brass and copper anchoring him to the forest floor. The orc's searing magic pressed deeper, finding modifications he'd forgotten about, improvements buried so deep he'd stopped noticing them.
"Stop," he gasped, tasting copper in his mouth as his enhanced circulatory system began to fail. "You don't understand. The child," He was going to fail. Never before had he failed so spectacularly. He should've saved the child and escaped with her.
The magic surged stronger, cutting off his words.
His consciousness faded as his mechanical parts fell silent. The last thing he felt was earth beneath his fingers, real soil, not the stone floors of home. Then unconsciousness took him, and Sebastian de laSang fell into darkness untouched by steam or machinery.
For the first time in two centuries, he was simply, terrifyingly, helpless.
Chapter Three
The vampire collapsed, and Ochrehand's triumph turned to horror as her magic kept surging through him, out of control. She'd only meant to disable his synthetic parts for a while, not rip apart every copper thread and brass joint in his body. But the spell had taken on a life of its own, hunting down and destroying "improvements" with a vengeance.
As he shook violently, blood leaked from his eyes, ears, and nose, anywhere brass met bone or copper threaded through flesh. The magic that should have just knocked him out was killing him.
"No, no, no." She held her hands just above his chest. If he died in orc territory, his people would come hunting. They'd burn the forest, kill her clan, destroy everything to avenge their noble's death. And the vision that had pushed her to try this risky spell in the dead of night, would die with him.
The bear's blood still pooled on the ground nearby, evidence of the chase that had led the vampire to her. She gathered it with shaking hands, letting her magic flow into each drop before pressing it to his lips. His fangs descended, the teeth dark and lifeless.
She didn't dare let him really feed. An unconscious vampire was dangerous enough, one actively feeding could kill her in a blink. But his body needed something to keep it going while she figured out how to keep him alive.
If she even should. Visions and common sense battled in her heart.
Her people had survived by killing vampires before they could attack, making sure their synthetic corruption never took root in the forest's heart. One spell gone wrong couldn't erase centuries of bad blood. One vision couldn't wipe away generations of war.
But as she watched his heart struggle to beat without its brass help, she saw something her people's stories had never mentioned. Beneath all the synthetic modifications, under all that copper and brass and steel, his core was still pure. Untainted. A small spark of natural life that had somehow survived centuries of 'improvement'.
That spark might be useful, if she could keep it burning long enough to reach the village. If the council didn't execute them both for bringing a vampire into their midst.
The vampire moaned, and tiny spots of blood appeared on his forehead. Already the magic had thrown him into a fever. He thrashed and tried to say something, but the broken parts in his throat blocked his words.
Ochrehand put a hand on his forehead, careful to keep her flesh well away from his mouth. With her spell still flowing through him, she could easily see what was tormenting him in his dreams.
A small human girl clutched a rough wooden doll, reaching for him while other vampires laughed around them. Their laughter had something off about it, something synthetic, that made it more threatening than joyful.
"Sebastian. Please help me."
"I will, little one," the vampire promised. "Just give me time and I'll be back for you."
An elegant female vampire put a hand on the child's shoulder. "Don't take too long, my betrothed. It's sweet that you want to hunt, consider it your last real taste of freedom." She bent over the child, moving in ways no natural person should. "Speaking of taste, this one will taste so perfect."
As Sebastian lunged forward, hands caught him and pulled him away from the child. "Remember my brother, you have to hunt before you can taste either of them," a man whispered in his ear.
"Stay away from her." Sebastian tried to shake off the hands, but they held him tight, pulling him away from the child, as the female vampire pulled her into the shadows. "She's mine. You can't have her. Let her go!" He struggled as he shouted, but the darkness started laughing before it pulled him in.
