“Nothing substantial, so what I’m about to say will be vague and disorganized,” Chastity says, her robe hitting the floor. Putting on a leather dress that goes down to her knees, she tries to find a matching jacket. “Luther told you about the attacks on old-world vampires. That’s all true, but there is an oddness from the mortal side of things. The incidents where only a few scraps of flesh were found had no witnesses because they claimed to have been in a trance. This covers most of the attacks, but there are a handful where the bodies were kind of located. Parts were discovered and in such horrible condition that we can’t even be sure they were vampires. Mortals who were nearby said they heard howling and whooping, which made them too scared to investigate. Thankfully, they’re thinking it’s lycanthropes behind these, which is a rumor I plan on enhancing. In my opinion, we could have two different enemies here, Clyde, so you’re bound to find a fight somewhere in this mess.”
“One could dream,” he replies with a smirk. The powerful vampire makes a fist until his knuckles pop and send a tiny shockwave throughout his arm. “The boys don’t want me going out and stirring up trouble. Can’t say I blame them, but it makes me feel like a toddler. This problem does have my interest though and it could be entertaining as long as everyone keeps me in the information loop. The list of possibilities is intriguing. Could be Duragians, an army of hunters, Dawn Fangs going rogue, or something else entirely. Is there any pattern to when and where the attacks happen? What have you heard about Dawn Fangs acting strange like singing or hearing voices?”
“That’s the part I can’t figure out,” the hostess claims, her yellow eyes twitching from the blow to her pride. Sitting on the corner of her wide vanity, she uses her telekinesis to paint her finger and toe nails at the same time. “All of those occurrences happened to Dawn Fangs, who aren’t being attacked. It could be something unconnected, which means we have multiple problems at the same time. I’d like to believe all of this will lead to the same source because it’s too strange for them to be isolated incidents. Once I get back to the Scrumptious Siren, I can see if the bouts of singing share anything in common with the attacks. Maybe they’re in the same location, but are separated by so much time that I missed it.”
Facing his friend, Clyde considers keeping his thoughts to himself, but cannot stop his curiosity. “That’s not like you, Sullivan. Sorry if that offends you. I’m just concerned that you’re hiding a problem. Need me to return the favor and listen?”
“I prefer to share my woes in the nude and you’re partially taken,” Chastity teases with a lick of her lips. She floats a pair of gladiator sandals to her, the color and material matching her dress. “Well, I’ve had a few blackouts during the last two years. Only losing a couple minutes every month or two. Not in one go, but the seconds accumulate until I notice that I lost a little time. You know, like there’s more of my drink missing than I remember or losing track of a conversation. Brought it up with Luther recently and we think it’s because I don’t rest. One of my powers is that I never tire, but there could be side-effects to not sleeping at all. I plan on doing just that after tonight.”
“As long as everything is okay.”
“You don’t believe me.”
“I don’t, but I’ve angered enough women lately.”
“Awww, the old griffin can still learn some new tricks.”
2
The busy tavern stops when the front door creaks open and a strange figure pokes her head in for a moment. Slight points on her ears reveal the teenager’s half-elven nature, but the patrons are more enthralled by her crimson eyes and silver hair. Peeking around the corner, she sniffs at the air and wrinkles her nose at the potent stench of stale alcohol and sweat. Ducking out of sight, the girl knocks five times before opening the door and taking a few steps inside. The stranger stands barefoot in front of the crowd, her clothes nothing more than sleepwear that has been adorned with hand-drawn rabbit pictures. Several of the patrons turn away, the shirt and pants helping them realize that the girl cannot be any older than sixteen, which makes them think she is a homeless beggar. They still keep an eye on her, especially when she pulls a stuffed bunny out from behind her back. Hugging the toy to her chest, she skips over to the bar and hops onto a stool that spins. She repeatedly tries to talk when she is facing the bartender, but she is moving too fast to get more than a single word out during each pass. Wanting the fun ride to stop, the girl slams her hand down to catch the bar and her fingers crunch into the solid wood as if it was paper.
“Oops . . . Bunny will pay for that,” she says, holding her stuffed animal upside down. She shakes the toy until an emerald falls out, the gem dotted with a few flecks of blood. “He’s always eating things that he shouldn’t. That’s why I have to keep an eye on him. You don’t happen to have any tomatoes, do you? He likes those. By the way, I’m Lost and I’m trying to find my father.”
“Sorry to hear that,” the barrel-chested man states as he cleans a mug. He knocks on the window behind him to get it open and reaches into the kitchen to grab a tomato. “If you’re lost then it’s better for you to talk to the sheriff. This town is in the middle of nowhere, so your old man probably only passed through. Nobody ever stays here for long unless they’re interested in the jade mines to the west. Were you traveling with him and got lost in that storm we had last night?”
“No, I was on my own,” the girl happily claims. Offering the tomato to her bunny, she quickly gets frustrated and jams the food into its mouth. “Honestly, I’m not sure I’ve ever met my father. So, I’m following my mom’s scent to see if I can find him. That storm did get me turned around. Oh, are they playing Rodil darts? My friends and I used to play it all the time, but we had different rules. Mostly, you have to hit each other instead of missing. By the way, I’m not lost. My name is Lost. Although, I don’t know where I’m going, so I could be both. It’s best to only be one at a time, but I’m always Lost.”
“My apologies,” the bartender replies, his face having gone slightly pale. His eyes dart from his broken bar to the girl’s rabbit a few times before he realizes why he has been on edge since her arrival. “Is that thing dead? I’ve seen toys before and that looks much more realistic. It even has teeth.”
Lost holds up her bunny and opens its mouth to reveal the large incisors. “Of course, it has teeth. That’s what it used to bite me when I was a baby. Bunny bit my face, I snapped his neck, and we’ve been best friends ever since. Though, he is starting to smell now. That’s what happens when you travel and forget regular baths. How much for me to rent a room upstairs? I promise that I don’t snore and I really only need it for the night. Think I have a blue thing in here that I can trade. Open wide, bunny, and share your treasure . . . We’ve got an apple core, fingers, gold coins, magic ring that I broke, and a gnome’s gallbladder. Must have dropped the blue thing in the storm. Would you be interested in slightly used fingers?”
Without a word, the bartender goes to the other end of the bar and focuses on the other customers. Scratching her head, Lost considers going after him, but forgets the idea when she remembers that the stool spins. After several minutes, she is stopped by a strong hand on her shoulder. The smell of tobacco and cheap booze fills her nose, which she pinches closed to block the foul odor. Her eyes widen as she examines the five patrons who have surrounded her, all of them wearing leather armor. Lost is temporarily entranced by the throbbing veins in their necks, but a few hard blinks makes them disappear from view. Placing her bunny on her shoulder, she slides off the stool and offers her hand to the brown-haired elf that she assumes is the leader. The woman glances at one of the men, who reaches over to accept the gesture and turns the strange girl towards him.
“Do any of you know where I can find my father or are you just friendly?” Lost asks before the tall man can speak. Letting go of his hand, she abruptly leans forward to inspect a dwarf’s neatly braided beard. “Shouldn’t that be on the back of your head? Wait, that’s supposed to be like that. I forgo
t about your kind and the facial hair. All of you are pretty quiet considering you approached me first. I’m going to go back to this fun ride if you’re done because the spinning helps me think.”
“We don’t know anything about your dad, but we can give you a place to stay for the night if you need one,” the man says as he takes a seat. Reaching behind the bar, he grabs a mug of ale and slides it to Lost. “In fact, we run a hotel that isn’t very far from here. You get your own room and all you have to do is entertain a guest or two. A beautiful thing like you doesn’t even have to go too far. Just talk, flirt, and-”
“But I don’t have the chest to be a prostitute,” the girl claims while pointing at her body. She stands on the bar and looks at herself in the mirror behind the alcohol. “I guess they have grown a little since I left home a year ago. The butt might need some work too. Can we make another deal? I’d be happy to stay with you and play games with your guests. Nothing adult since I’m still a kid, but I can be fun in my own way. Oh, I recently learned how to juggle using my arms, nose, and left foot.”
The man snaps his fingers at his chuckling friends, his eyes never straying from the girl who continues to strike odd poses on the bar. “People won’t think you’re a kid unless you say something and you’d be surprised how many go for girls who look young. Still, I won’t force you into anything. I’d be willing to pay you for your services and you can leave in the morning if you don’t like the deal.”
“You’re a horrible recruiter.”
“Why is that?”
“Because you keep grinning.”
“I’m a happy guy.”
“More that you’re used to tricking drunk women and I’m neither one of those things,” Lost politely explains before sitting down again. She gently kicks her legs, which leave small dents in the bar every time they strike. “On the other hand, I’m tired of sleeping in trees, dirt, bushes, and the occasional bear. It isn’t like you can make me do anything that I don’t want to do. You’re all far too weak to be a threat to me and bunny always keeps me safe. Let’s go and I’ll make my final decision when I see . . . your . . . hotel. What’s that?”
“What’s what?” the man asks, confused by her frantic pointing. Looking down, he sees that there is a large hole in his boot, the patch he placed over it having fallen off. “Yeah, I need to get new shoes soon. These have served me well, but it’s time to throw them away. Don’t make a big deal of it. My feet are clean and all you can see is my sock.”
“I hate socks!” the girl shouts, startling everyone in the tavern. Grabbing the man by the face, she lifts him off the ground and bares her glistening fangs. “So gross and disgusting and gross. You aren’t a clean person if you’re showing me those. Back me up, bunny, because they’re going to make us wear socks.”
As Lost crushes the man’s head in her fist, the stuffed rabbit abruptly leaps off her shoulder and bites into the Elven woman’s throat before she can swing her sword. The animal continues burrowing into her flesh as its Dawn Fang master throws the recruiter across the tavern. In a blur of motion, she spins to the side to avoid a spear and repeats the dodge when the dwarf makes another jab. Hopping over the warrior, Lost shoves him in the back with enough force to knock him down. Turning around, she catches a sword in her hand and growls at the sensation of her flesh getting cut. With a playful smack, she separates the woman’s head from the rest of her body. The dwarf is about to get up when the bunny rushes into his face and tackles him through the bar. Blood and alcohol fly high enough to touch the ceiling while the final mortal tries to draw his crossbow. The man stops when he realizes that none of the other patrons are moving and turns in a circle to see that everyone is sitting perfectly still.
“I have to be a secret,” Lost whispers with a smirk. Pouncing on the man, she tears off his arms and swiftly drains him of blood. “That might have been a mistake, bunny. Would you stop playing with your food? We need to figure out how to get out of trouble. There are a lot of dangerous people who could come after us if they know we exist. Maybe if I stomp on this one to hide the fang marks. I’ll take blood from this one to make it look like he still has some. What do you mean I should have closed my eyes and thought of shoes? Well, it’s too late to give me advice now. Don’t yell at me! I know you don’t like talking around mortals, but only I can hear you. Fine, I’ll tell these people they saw something else. Of course, I mind-jacked the entire village to be safe. These five ate bad mushrooms and tried to devour each other. That kid in the corner killed the last one to save his mommy. I don’t know if that woman is his mom, but I’ll make the two of them believe they’re related. Not again with the morals, bunny. It’s all good as long as I don’t leave anybody sad . . . The dead don’t count.”
*****
Happily dancing through the forest, Lost repeatedly spins around to clap and get her bunny to scamper after her. As it hurries along, he decrepit animal’s movements are unnatural and its head does not always look where it is going. The creature eventually hits a boulder and stays there with its legs wind milling behind it, which forces the Dawn Fang to come back. Instead of picking the struggling bunny up, she flips the large stone out of the way. Her pet rockets between her legs and into the distance, so she goes skipping after it. With every bound covering several feet, Lost easily catches up to the rodent and scoops it into her arms. The white-furred creature squirms and opens its mouth to screech, but only a groan of foul-smelling air escapes its decaying lungs. A smack on the nose causes it to go limp and she tucks it into a looped rope that dangles from the back of her shirt.
No longer distracted by the bunny, the girl sniffs the air and immediately catches a curious scent. Lost peers into the thickening darkness and barely makes out the flicker of a fire, which helps her recognize the smell as cooked meat. Feeling a rumble in her stomach, she lets a line of drool fall from her mouth and lowers herself to all fours. Creeping through the underbrush, the Dawn Fang moves like a prowling cat while sniffing at the air like a dog. Years of practice have trained her to advance without making a sound or disturbing her surroundings. Memories of hunting prey as a child cause her to bare her fangs and her eyes glow around the pupils. Coming to the edge of the small campsite, Lost can no longer control herself and she lunges at the lanky figure standing only a few feet away. Her attack is abruptly stopped when the man’s metallic horse whinnies and kicks her in the side. The girl is sent crashing into a tree and flops onto the ground where she stays due to the lance aimed at her throat.
“I don’t taste very good,” Bob says as he lowers his weapon. With a smile, he goes back to the fire where he is cooking a large stag. “If you’re hungry then I’d be happy to share. Ironmane here only eats acorns because he’s on a diet. There’s just enough for both of us since you’re obviously a Dawn Fang too. My trick is to cook the meat just enough to make the outside crunchy and not lose any of the blood.”
“I prefer raw, but I guess I should eat,” Lost replies, her attention on the dirty stranger’s polished boots. Satisfied that she cannot see his socks, she crawls over to the fire and sits her bunny in a patch of clovers. “So, I’m a Dawn Fang. Never knew the term and everyone called me a vampire. I like what you said better, so that’s what I’ll say from now on. My parents didn’t stick around to teach me about myself. I’m looking for my father to fix that. You don’t happen to know him, do you?”
“Can’t say I’ve ever met a man named Father,” the older vampire replies with a shrug. He removes the stag from the fire and tears it in half, the bigger side going to Lost. “Strange to find a young one like you out here on her own. We have rules about abandoning our children since all of you are supposed to be brought to either Gregorio’s or Nytefall. If you don’t even know what we are then you obviously haven’t been to either place. Do you hear someone talking in a low whisper?”
“That’s just bunny.”
“Not sure he likes me.”
“He gets grumpy when he eats tomatoes.”
�
�Understandable since the seeds can get stuck in your teeth.”
“That’s why you swallow it whole and let your stomach gremlins tear it apart.”
“I don’t have those.”
“Of course, you do. Everyone does, but only mine talk. See?”
Lost lifts her shirt enough to show off her stomach, the subtle movements of hunger visible only to her keen eyes. Taking a bite of stag, she points at her bellybutton in the hopes of getting Bob to notice what she thinks is a claw pushing against her flesh. For a brief moment, she sees a grinning face appear and she smacks the spot to make sure the supposed gremlin does not try to escape. Looking up at the other Dawn Fang, she is disappointed to find that he has gone to tend to his odd horse, which continues to stare at her. Cheeks flushed red, Lost snorts and reaches over to grab her bunny by the scruff of its neck. Stuffing a handful of meat into its mouth, she frowns as the rodent struggles to chew the tough flesh and bloats once the large piece is in its stomach. Placing the animal back down, the girl goes back to her meal and watches the elf finish buffing a dent out of his metallic steed.
“Are you my father?” Lost suddenly asks. Cartwheeling to her feet, she touches her pointy ear and points at Bob’s head. “We have similar ears, love animals, and you can hear bunny. The hair isn’t right though. Half of you is fresh hay and the other half is nighttime, but I’m all pretty silver. It could have started black and this happened because of all the iron heavy blood I drank as an infant. What do you think?”
Lost (War of Nytefall Book 2) Page 4
