The Vampire & Her Witch

Against the common soldiers, Zedya’s basic fighting skills and superior physical abilities allowed her to slaughter with impunity. Against a vampire more than four times her age with centuries of experience in battle, however, she fared little better than a talented recruit, new to the army.

She managed to avoid blows to the head or chest, only barely, but the sickening crunch she’d heard when the flail smashed into her knee was repeated again when it slammed into the bottom of her ribcage, and a third time when it crashed into her right shoulder, sending shards of bone deep into her flesh and rendering her arm useless as it hung limply by her side.

Despite her terrible injuries, a smile blossomed on Zedya’s face as she pushed her Mist Walker Dance to its limits, drifting out of reach of Savis’s blood soaked flail.

”What are you smiling about, woman?” the white furred vampire sneered. His answer came a moment later, not from Zedya, but from a powerful voice that echoed from the depths of the abyss as a dark winged woman in tattered, bloody clothes strode through the northern entrance to the hall.

”Drop your weapons, or Hamdi dies,” Nyrielle commanded. Shadows flowed from her wings like a dark tide, blanketing the hall with a darkness that dimmed everything from the crystal chandeliers to the standing oil lamps and cast the room into a cold otherworldly darkness like a graveyard on midwinter’s night.

”You are in the presence of Her Eternity Nyrielle, the Harbinger of Death,” Ignatious said, stepping in front of Nyrielle like an obedient herrald and dropping the charred and desiccated body of Hamdi at her feet. ”Kneel in her presence, or face her wrath,” he commanded, immediately following his own orders and dropping to one knee.

”Your Eternity, Mistress Nyrielle,” Zedya said formally and loudly enough for the entire hall to hear while she dropped to her uninjured knee.

”Master Hamdi!” Savis cried, his flail falling from his fingers as shock tore through him. The charred figure at the dark-winged woman’s feet was all but unrecognizable, and yet the connection he felt to the man who had made him a vampire all those centuries ago couldn’t be denied. Most importantly, that connection told him that, despite the ghastly wounds, his master was still alive!

Savis’s anguished cry paralyzed the soldiers of the Dark Wolf Brigade, giving Captain Lennart and his men the opportunity they needed to act. Rather than strike down their foes, however, each and every one of them stepped back from their opponents, laying down their weapons as they knelt and bowed deeply to their lady.

”Your Eternity, Lady Nyrielle,” they cried, the genuine passion in their voices warring with relief at her timely rescue and a measure of shock as they witnessed the many wounds on her body and the ragged state of her clothing.

”Lady Nyrielle,” Captain Lennart said, rushing across the room to kneel directly before his lady. ”It has been my life’s honor to fight in your service. Your wounds are too severe,” he said solemnly, turning his head to one side and baring his neck. Already, a nasty wound traced along his jaw bone, nearly reaching his ear and deep enough to reveal layers of muscle and even the bright white of bone in places.

”If my blood can aid your healing then it is yours,” he offered formally. ”If my life is required, then it is yours as well.”

Behind him, several other soldiers stood, rushing forward to kneel behind their captain. Each one of them bore injuries from the brief but intense clash with the Dark Wolf Brigade but every one of them looked at Nyrielle with the kind of reverence that humans reserved for their icons of faith.

”My blood is yours for the taking,” they said in ragged unison. ”My life is yours if you require it.”

”Little Lenny,” Zedya whispered from where she knelt halfway across the hall. ”Don’t, don’t do this...”

”Captain Lennart, stand before me,” Nyrielle commanded. When he did as she ordered, she reached out gently, turning his face away from her and leaning in to brush her lips against the gruesome wound along his jaw.

Her tongue darted out, quicker than most eyes could follow, giving her the briefest taste of rich, metallic blood that danced over her tongue like the sharp sounds of battle. The energy she received from his blood was less than a fraction of what she gained from a single bloody kiss with Ashlynn and yet her tongue darted out again and again along the length of his wound.

By the time she finished, pricking the flesh next to his ear with the barest touch of her fangs, the wound had already stopped bleeding and pale flesh had begun to grow over the deepest portions of the wound.

More than that, while Lennart experienced none of the world shattering pleasure that so often accompanied Nyrielle’s bite, the pain he felt from his lesser wounds had melted away completely, leaving him feeling refreshed and restored.

”Healing isn’t my gift, brave Lennart,” Nyrielle whispered. ”But for those that I feed on, even if it’s just a small amount, I can grant a small measure of healing that helps to recover from my bite. I’m afraid the rest will have to wait.”

”My Lady,” the bearish captain said, returning to his knee and bowing his head low. ”The gift you’ve given me is already priceless beyond measure. I will bear this scar with honor for the rest of my days,” he said solemnly.

”As you should,” Nyrielle said, lightly touching the top of his head before turning her attention to Hamdi’s progeny and the soldiers under his command. ”Now,” she said, her voice growing dark and cold. ”My men are obediently kneeling but why is it that yours still stand? Could it be that you wish to see your master die?”

”Your Eternity,” Savis said, breaking free of the shock that had frozen him in place and dropping to one knee. ”Please, whatever crime my master has committed to draw your wrath, let us make amends. Please, spare his life.”

”Your Eternity,” the soldiers of the Dark Wolf Brigade echoed, dropping to their knees and bowing their heads in imitation of Savis. ”Please, spare our master’s life!”

”If your master is going to live,” Nyrielle said as her eyes swept over the soldiers of the Dark Wolf Brigade. ”Then I require an offering. Who will give their blood to save his life?”

”I, I will offer my blood and my life if my master requires it,” a young soldier said, awkwardly standing up. He placed his hands atop his head to show that he hid no weapons and walked slowly to stand over the blackened body of the man who was supposed to be the strongest person in the entire Tangled Wood and for several territories beyond their borders.

Seeing him reduced to this state, the young soldier’s heart shook and it took every ounce of his willpower to keep himself from cowering in fear before the dark-winged woman who had reduced his master to this sorry state.

”It, it isn’t our way to make an offering of blood,” he said with uncertainty as he knelt next to his master. ”Should I cut open my wrist for him? Will spilling blood on his lips be enough?”

”Who said I needed you to spill your blood for him?” Nyielle asked coldly. ”Stand before me. You are my defeated prey and I will feed on you long before I feed on my own injured men,” she said with a brief smile directed toward the injured Captain Lennart. ”And because you offered, I will spare your life. Now come,” she called. ”Stretch out your neck for me.”

The young soldier seemed startled by her command but he couldn’t refute her words. They truly were defeated dogs. It felt shameful to offer up his own neck, but if doing so meant that she would spare his master’s life... then he could only endure the shame of it.

Much to his surprise, there was no pain when Nyrielle sank her fangs into his neck, only a cool sense of comfort and relief from pain as his world grew dim and Nyrielle drank her fill. In her injured state, it would have been all too easy to drain him to the last drop but she kept true to her word, stopping well short of what she needed to completely heal and taking only enough of his blood to recover a bit of her strength.

”Now, you there,” Nyrielle said, pointing a finger at Savis after laying the Golden Eyed soldier on the ground. ”It seems like another of your siblings has just arrived on the floors above. Bring them here so that I can explain to you the terms of your surrender.”

”And before you get any strange ideas,” she added as she used the tip of one wing to prod Hamdi’s slumbering figure. ”Whether or not your Master is able to recover enough, quickly enough, to retain his position as the High Lord of the Tangled Wood depends entirely on how well you follow my instructions in the weeks to come. So whatever you do,” she said fiercely. ”Don’t disappoint me.”

”Yes, your Eternity,” the white furred vampire said, swallowing heavily as he looked at her cold, midnight blue eyes. In them, he saw an infinite abyss that promised to swallow up anything that resisted her orders... and that wouldn’t care if she had to kill him in order to make sure others understood that she wasn’t to be defied.

After all, if she could defeat his master so thoroughly and do so before anyone could arrive to help him, then what chance did Savis or any of Hamdi’s progeny have of resisting her?

Now that he saw her open a path not only for him to survive but for his master to regain his throne, Savis grasped it with every fiber of his being, rushing toward his sister Birsu to warn her that they only had one chance to save their master and more importantly, that the ”minor guest” their master had warned them of was someone that they dared not offend.