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“Why, you have some way of transporting us 500 years back?” I rolled my eyes, the idea ridiculous.
“Rude of you to assume my age Nettle, but no I have something better.” He pulled out a ring of dark grey stone, my eyes widened, it was the same material as my sword. He slid it onto his finger and waggled it at me. So, it didn’t always kill their kind, interesting.
“What will that do?” I asked, honestly curious despite knowing a little about the material.
“It dampens my Vampiric nature, so little human assassins with mighty high opinions of themselves can’t accuse me of cheating when I kick their ass.”
“If what you’re saying is true, and that’s not just a poorly made ring of rock then I dare you to try Mr. Brick wall, you won’t be able to catch me even if you had another century to try.” I snap.
“You made an oath of truth didn’t you? Your mark will tell you when someone nearby is lying.” He stated simply as if that was common knowledge and not something mind-blowing.
“Truly?” I ask, glancing at my thumb with wonder.
“No.” He said, and I felt a prick of heat warm the mark.
I laughed, delighted that while I couldn’t lie to the Mistress, I would know implicitly if anyone was lying to me.
“Yes, well as fascinating as our little gadgets are how about we see if you can catch and kill normal me little slayer.” He whispered the last word into my ear, having approached without sound. I swung with the axe, but he was gone.
Spinning the weapon in my hand I shouted out, “Might as well squawk. Cause you’re dead Mr. Crow,” before sliding into my fighting stance.
His guttural laugh echoed around the courtyard. “Let’s feel that sting, Ms. Nettle or I will have to demote you to…” He paused before grinning, “Dandelion.” He said, walking forward to pick up the sword he’d left in the dirt.
I rushed toward him again, and again. Landing blow after blow with no result. We were evenly matched so long as I stayed quick, and didn’t allow him to use his superior strength. It was exhilarating, something I’d only been able to find with the Slayer Masters. I found myself laughing as we began what felt like a dangerous game of tag only with the blows of our weapons.
Rushing him again I readied another blow. He pivoted, and I followed, perfectly able to keep him in view. He raised the sword, and I extended the axe to block his blow. The pressure rang through my arms with the force of hitting a stone wall, similar to Master Jericho’s strength but not much more. As he pivoted again to land a blow beyond my guard, I ducked under the swing, this time letting my axe slice his leg as I moved closer rather than further away. First blood.
He reached down, trying to grab me by the scruff like a stray kitten and I yearned for my silver spikes as his hand brushed my bare neck. Knocking his hand away with the butt of the axe I sprung away, rolling into a crouch with the axe pointed his direction.
“No touching, Crow. Or should I call you Nestling, now I’ve drawn first blood?” I taunted, hoping to find something that would crack the confidence and give me an opening.
“Oh Nettle, first you make me bleed and then you give me a Nickname? You want me to fall in love with you, don’t you?” He approached slowly, swinging his sword as he circled confidently. “I already have a Dom but maybe she’d let you share…” He circled closer, and I continued to spin, ready to catch his blade. “Maybe that’s what she wants.” He lunged, crossing our weapons. He pressed forward, making use of his weight until his face was inches from mine. “Maybe that’s why she had you watch,” he whispered.
My legs gave out, realizing for the first time that my inability to see her had no bearing on her ability to see me. To see the effect of what she did and said to Ravensford had on me. He made no move to land a killing blow, instead cocking his head as he peered down at me kneeling in the dirt.
“She saw?” I croaked, my throat tightening with embarrassment. I had planned to get close to her and sleep with her if need be. But I hadn’t planned this, hadn’t expected to be vulnerable or honest with my arousal in that way.
“Everything. I thought you might catch on when she started calling me pet. But then, you don’t know my usual pet name is Baby, maybe it’ll be Nestling too, someday… if you earn our trust.”
Fangs out, Baby. She’d said when talking directly to him. Pet… it was meant for me. For us. And, despite my protesting earlier about that exact name… I liked it. I hated it again now. But what did that mean?
“And how am I meant to earn your trust?” I ask, my voice cracking with thirst and emotion.
“I’ll tell it to you straight Nettle, I don’t have any shame in admitting we’re fighting a losing war. Have been for close to two centuries, and we’re tired. Our people are tired, our recruits are waning, and we need anything that might give us an advantage.”
“A war against who? The humans?” I ask, wondering whether he would reveal their enemies, or purpose. Roya’s warning about not all vampires being my enemy came to mind. Had she been trying to convert me to their cause?
“Did your employer tell you nothing of the person you were asked to kill?” His head was cocked again, looking at me with confusion.
“I wasn’t given much choice in the matter.” I disclosed slowly, deciding that was vague enough to cover the bargain and the curse.
“So you don’t actually want to kill her?” He clarifies.
I stay silent, I want to kill the monster that cursed me. I need to bring her ashes to the God that will set my people free. But… did I want to kill her? She’d done nothing since I’d arrived that painted her as the monster I’d believed her to be, and yet it had to be her. There was no doubt in anyone’s mind who had cursed me, who was responsible for the sin and misery of our land.
“Come with me, Nettle. We can keep trying to kill each other later.” I took his offered hand, the feel of his matching calluses soothing me. As if at that moment we were simply rival warriors, nothing more. His whistle and the resulting blindfold reminded me of the truth, he tucked my hand into the crook of his arm before leading me back inside. I lost track of the number of turns we took before the castle’s musky scent slowly gave way to the unmistakable scent of fresh bread and… Salves? The air here was pungent with herbs in addition to being filled by the cacophony voices punctuated by the clang of pots and pans.
The blindfold was removed to show me the unmistakable view of happy, healthy, humans.
