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“I travel alone, Lady,” I croaked.
“Mistress, I am no Lady, as I’m sure you know.” She quipped, loosening the band around my throat. Taking in my answer, she gripped the pommel I had been moments away from reaching. I held my breath, wondering if it would really be this easy. She lifted it easily, brows drawing in at the strange, darkened blade. She brushed a fingertip across it but rather than bursting into flames like her younger counterparts, she released a small hiss. The finger was hastily placed in her mouth before she looked back at me with a renewed understanding.
My heart dropped. Not only had I lost the element of surprise, but I’d also alerted her to the presence of the only possible weapon that could slay her.
“I had wondered how a little thing like you had slain thirty of my recruits, but then it seems you have quite a few tricks up your sleeve.” That was the first time I’d ever been called small, but I supposed my usual height and build was lacking in comparison to hers. She broke the scabbard off my waist before sheathing the weapon, holding it to her waist. The gloom willingly threaded itself into a belt.
I’d lost. Lost my sword, my best chance of breaking the curse, my best chance at revenge, all because what? Some sentient shadows? Why hadn’t the Sun God warned me of this power?
Her throat cleared, calling me from my tumultuous thoughts.
“Why slay them? Did they threaten you?” She asked slowly, calmly, the effects of her presence lessening as she strode away from me to observe the quiet trees.
“What reason does a Slayer need to slay vampires?” I spat as I rolled into a kneeling position. My full identity was more likely to condemn me than save me. This information might prevent her from asking for more. The only question was whether she’d kill me or recognize me and renew her curse.
“A Slayer? How interesting, I thought your kind extinct.” She laughed, examining me again like the idea of my being a slayer was an amusing joke.
“Set me free and then we’ll see who is laughing.” I all but snarled. I’d not worked my entire life to shut up the taunting guards just to be mocked and defeated within seconds. Nor be mocked by some outright lie.
“You’re not in much of a position to make demands, although if you’d like, I’d tutor you in the best uses of that particular one.” Her amusement increased at my apparent discomfort.
The ground beneath my knees grew sharper as I shifted to see if I could stand. The shadows around my ankles grew tighter in response. How I hated her. The buzzing in my head lessened at the return of the familiar feeling.
“Why are you in my forest, little Slayer? Do you have a death wish?”
I spat at her feet rather than answer. She’d have to torture me if she wanted more answers.
She sighed, allowing a glove to vanish before wrapping her porcelain hand around my wrist.
Every thought vanished as my back bowed off the floor. Pain flowed through me like water and I gasped for air. No torture method or training could prepare me for the soul-deep scream that shook my being.
“Why are you in my forest, little Slayer?” Her words echoed through me until my own truths began bubbling to the surface.I bucked away from her touch, smashing my face into the hard ground.
“To kill you.” I breathed, blood now dripping from my nose to fill my mouth before everything went dark.
Three
Iwoke, face pressed into hay that smelled of mildew and sulfur. Blinking wearily, I recognized the telltale grid of iron bars, the drip of water common in most dungeons… but there was that smell again. Metallic and repugnant. Blinking again, I saw the jagged outlines of rock reaching toward the cavernous ceiling. I was in a cave, was it the same one I’d seen before? A cold droplet hit my neck, and I reached up in confusion. Bare skin met my touch. My head unburdened by weaving of any kind. My braid… my signature braid was gone. Cut roughly at the base of my neck. I gripped the short strands in shock, tears pricking. It was gone, my most feminine trait. Really my only feminine trait. My hair had made me feel that I could be both strong and beautiful, and now unarmed and captured, I felt like I was neither.
It was nonsensical. I was willing to lose my life, had come here risking everything, but the loss of my hair had never occurred to me. One of the many oversights I’d certainly had, I wondered which of the many had landed me here as I looked at the bars. Would I have learned of the Mistress’ shadow magic or pain touch if I’d spent more time in the library and less time sparring? Should I have spent more time with Master Yinzu in training my mind? Or should I have traveled to our neighboring kingdom to learn with the Nameless ones how to hide in plain sight? Instead I’d spent years training my body for speed, until I had become known for it. I was still required to work on my mind's defenses, but despite Yinzu’s best efforts I had known it was never going to be my strength. I had never excelled in espionage or lying of any sort, and much preferred spending the day in combat with my fellow Slayers.
Keepers of the Dorn Kingdom, fallen by a single thoughtless kiss. I remembered Celia’s look of shock, and recalled my dismay when I realized she’d never felt the same. I had quickly offered her enough to leave service. More than enough money to travel and leave it all behind, but she’d refused. She assured me she was not offended, instead promising we’d talk things through in the morning. Only that morning had never come. The curse triggered not by a prick of the finger, but one of the heart.
The cell grew darker, perhaps a result of my now spiraling anxiety.
Searching the cell for a weapon or rock of some sort, I came up empty. My heart rate continued to climb as I realized I had no way of knowing what plans she had for me now that I had admitted my own.
Returning to the pile of hay, I kicked it aside, hoping I would uncover something useful, instead I saw the unmistakable slate gray of ashes. It would seem this cell was not just for holding humans. But what reason would she have for killing vampires?
A shadow detached itself from the wall before expanding into a humanoid figure, its long arms nearly brushed the ground as it advanced. The only features on its face were a pair of glowing gold eyes, eyes that looked remarkably like…
“So you woke after all.” The Mistress’ voice came from the shadow figure.
“I couldn’t sleep for long, given the accommodations.” I tried not to show my fear, adding nightmare creatures to the growing list of deficiencies in my daily training.
“Yes, well murder confessions hardly warranted a feather bed, I’m afraid.” The creature crooned, resting its head in its overly large hands.
“Is starvation and shaving your usual method of retaliation, then?” I asked, my throat growing tighter with what I was going to label as thirst.
