II

“But the dawn is coming,” said Blum, watching the bonfire they made minutes ago.

Sarthos nodded. “And I count on it.” His golden eyes were fixated on her bloodstained face. “I haven’t gotten your name, Blum.”

She hesitated, glancing away for a moment. Then she answered as she returned the stare. “Ioana.”

“Ioana Blum, what a lovely name.”

“Don’t get used to it.”

He chuckled with his eyes closed. They opened as he remembered the sour iron smell she carried. “Take a bath.”

“While you are ogling me? No way.”

“Now isn’t the time for our differences. They could smell it from miles away. Wash yourself.”

“I’ll find the river.”

He stood. “I can lead you there.”

She squinted at him. “Why?”

“So I can watch your back.”

“Do it literally, I’ll stab you in the heart.”

He offered her a hand. “That’s the deal.”

She looked at his hand, then his face, then his hand again. She sighed and shook it. “Fine. Lead the way.”

He pulled her as she helped herself to stand. He let her hand go as he entered the gloom of the forest. With a torch in hand, she followed him.

As they were walking, she observed his back. Then the question occurred to her. She asked, “How do you bathe?”

He looked over his shoulder. “Sorry?”

“You can’t use the river as we do. How do you not stink at all?”

“Oh, each clan owns the bathhouse. The room below has thralls working to keep the water warm. Herbs were applied into the water.”

“You had people working to keep the water warm?”

“We have them on the routine. Obviously, we couldn’t feed on those thralls. But there were a few fools who ended up facing the consequences.”

“I see.”

Then the sound came to them. It was the river bursting through the embankment. He turned around. “We’ve arrived. Go ahead.”

She walked past him. “No peeking.”

“Of course.” he searched for a tree closest to the river. He rested his back against the tree, facing away from the river. His eyes closed afterward.

His pointy ears picked up the soft shuffling of the clothes, and they dropped to the ground. Then the water beat against the entering legs. And the sour iron smell gradually left.

“You’re a man of your word.” Her voice had him open his eyes, but he did not turn to check on her.

To his surprise, he admitted, “They’re the only thing that makes sense to me.”

“I didn’t know a vampire could be a paragon of honesty,” she teased.

“There aren’t a lot of us.”

“I can imagine that.”

The silence stretched for a moment.

She asked, “Sarthos?”

“I’m still here.”

“My father never told me he spared you. How do I know you’re not lying?”

“I don’t expect you to believe me. But I know that is the truth.”

“Then he must have a reason why he did it.”

“What do you think it is? I suspect you both are close.”

She had not responded for a long moment. Then she answered, “Maybe he saw something good in you.”

He looked down. “But I’ve killed better men.”

And she said nothing.

They settled back to the campfire. Sarthos observed Ioana’s damp, white hair. He could not help but be mesmerized by its color, so wonderful to his eyes. She noticed him watching.

“Are you going to stop staring?”

He blinked back to her eyes. “My apologies, Blum. I had no idea that the blood had been concealing such beauty.”

“Cease your flattery, Zurvos.” She glared at him. He wore nothing but a loincloth, baring his muscle-bound limbs. Then she glanced at herself wearing his clothes and sighed, “But thank you for your clothes.”

His head looked at her clothes hanging on the nearest branch. “Your clothes aren’t dry yet. It’s the least I can do.”

For a long silence, they had not said a word to each other as they kept staring at the fire dancing. The huntress’s fingers curled in the cloak, and he caught her habit but said nothing. Then her eyes grew heavy.

“Rest, Blum. I’ll watch after you.” his eyes glinted in the firelight.

She did not respond. Instead, she stood and strode around the bonfire, approaching him. She sat beside him and rested her head back against his chest. She muttered, “If my father trusted you enough to let you live, then I shall trust you enough to care for me.”

He did not say anything as her words shocked him, yet his stoic expression did not betray his newfound, stirring emotions. Although she knew he would not answer as she slept. He looked at her, and her neck was bare.

His mouth gaped, baring his long, canine fangs. His head quivered as if he physically wrestled with his vampiric instincts. His quivering hands found her newly-worn finery of a tunic, curling tight into the silk fabric.

His face, twisted with thirst and fear, lowered to her neck. His mouth exhaled no air against her neck as the fangs hovered close.

The ripping sound snapped him to his senses as he threw his head back. He looked down, and his hands recoiled from her slightly torn tunic, waking her up. She stirred with her mind blank, and he sprang away.

She blinked in confusion and looked down. Her eyes widened under her furrowed brows and turned to him with disgust contorting her face. She immediately buttoned up the coat.

He drew away. “I didn’t mean to…” He could not manage to complete it, starting with another. “I’m sorry.”

Tears filled her eyes as she glanced away. She said in a hushed voice, “You haven’t drunk, have you?” She unbuttoned her coat.

He shook his head. “What are you doing–”

“Do it.”

“No, I can’t–”

She stood, covering the distance. “I’m not asking. You need to survive.”

“But you’ll be turned.”

“And that’s the price I’m willing to pay!”

He wheeled and sprinted into the gloom of the woods. She did not chase after him as the tears spilled across her freckled cheeks. She buttoned her coat back.

“How sweet of you,” the voice alarmed her, and she wheeled to Yeenar. “It’s a shame that this is how I found out about my beloved chief. Soft and weak for you.”

Her right hand snuck under her coat, searching for a blade.

He raised his hand. “I’m not here for you. But my two best warriors want you.” Two armored figures split behind him. He followed the direction where Sarthos went.

With a roar, she lunged after him. One of the warriors deflected her deadly blow, and another swung the blade to her back. She jumped on the defender’s chest and launched herself backwards. The attacker struck the blow deep into the defender’s side, and the blood spurted onto the grass.

Taking an opportunity, the huntress thrust her blade into the attacker’s back, where the heart was. Shock stretched the victim’s face. She yanked her blade out. His face turned to ashes and sank inside the suit of armor. It clattered on the ground.

She did not let the defender recover as she hurled a handaxe towards his face. It split his head, and he staggered back. With mighty strength, she sliced his head off. The ashes spilled all over the place.

She panted, her shoulders and chest heaving. She snapped to the woods. “Sarthos!”

Sarthos’s knees dropped to the ground, and he watched his quivering hands. They clenched into fists, and the nails dug too deep into the palms. His hands bled, dripping on the grass. He muttered, “I’m sorry, Ioana.”

The claps stirred him up quickly. Yeenar clapped his last and sighed, “Sarthos, Sarthos, Sarthos.”

“How did you find me?”

“As soon as I left the castle, I saw you fly out of the window, carrying that wench of yours. I thought you were taking a scenic route, but I had suspicions. My two warriors are currently fighting her as we speak.”

Sarthos’s muscles tensed. “Ioana!”

Yeenar grinned. “Oh, that Blum gave you her name, huh? You two moved rather quickly.”

“Now isn’t the time for your game, Yeenar!”

“Oh, no. You aren’t going anywhere. You embarrassed me in front of the court, in front of the emperor and the empress! Now, they will see me as a weakling who leeches on you. It doesn’t matter. Once I’m done with you, I’ll make a slut out of that–”

With a scream, the chief’s claw tore his enemy’s helm open. Like a blur, he came in with another. But the opponent dodged to the left, and he grabbed the chief’s neck. He hurled him to the tree.

Sarthos’s back broke a few trees, and he rolled across the ground. He somersaulted backward and stood on the ground.

Keenar yanked his broken helmet out and threw it to the ground. With a wild grin, he walked to him with open arms. “You know what you did! For centuries, we’ve pillaged many cities, towns, and even villages. What makes that Blum special to you? Is it because she’s sweet to you?” He laughed. “Don’t kid yourself–”

The massive log hurled from the gloom-haunted, broken trail, crushing Yeenar to the ground. For a moment, it started to tilt right and fell. Its quaking impact split the dirt. Yeenar’s armor dented too deep into his chest. He turned to something snapped behind the trunk. His hand quickly groped for the strap. He unfastened it and opened his chestplate.

Sarthos leaped upon the trunk, a broken branch in both hands like a spear. With a roar, he sprang towards Yeenar.

The sufferer caught the strike in time, but the spear kept pressing towards his chest. He watched the chief’s blazing golden eyes filled with fury.

Somewhere from the forest, Ioana’s voice called, “Sarthos! Where are you?”

He did not register her voice. His mind left every instinct but destruction. He yanked the branch from Yeenar’s grasp and gored it straight into the chest.

Yeenar’s mouth gaped, blood pouring out. Sarthos stepped back and scanned his surroundings, but stopped as he saw Ioana standing frozen.

He said, “Ioana.”

Yeenar let out a sound more a wet cough than a cackle.

Sarthos snarled, “What’s so amusing?”

Yeenar choked, “Throughout the years we had together, I’ve learnt something from you. A neat trick. I finally tricked the trickster.”

The chief’s eyes widened as he wheeled towards the sky. It slowly became blue. With a grin, Yeenar turned into ashes, piling on the ground. Sarthos raised his arms to shield his face, knowing it would be in vain.

Sunlight poured through the ebony walls, flooding across Sarthos. It froze him with its venomous rays as his skin hissed. With a deep shriek of agony, he plummeted to the ground and his back arched off. His muscles were coiled under the burning skin.

Ioana could not shake off the paralyzing fear that blanked her mind. She gripped the ebony cloak, trying to anchor herself. Then she realized what she had in her hands.

She lunged towards him and yanked the cloak. She pulled him to cover him with the cloak, and she hugged him with her back facing the light, casting the small, artificial night over him. Then his screams softened into weak panting.

She breathed, “Let’s find you a place to hide.”

“What are you doing, Blum–”

“Call me Ioana, please.” With effort, she pulled him into the darkest shade that the leaves could cast. She buried her face into his makeshift hood. Her shoulders shook as she tried to hold back her sobbing.

He muttered, “I don’t understand. You could just leave me dead.”

Tears spilled across her cheeks, dripping on his hood. Her hug tightened around his chest. She choked, “I don’t want you gone.”

Despite his weakened state, he barely turned to press his ear against her sternum. Her hand found his head to press him closer. Her heart was racing.

His eyes widened. His body started to struggle from her grasp. He grunted, “Ioana, no–”

She shook her head. “Stop. Just rest. It’s no use if one of us can’t move.”

His body went limp in her hold. His lids grew heavy over his bloodshot eyes as his breathing was slowing down.

She scanned the surroundings, and then she stopped. Squinting, she glared at the sun, searching for the East. It had not risen by noon, but it was peeking out from the leaves. She found where it came from as she found the East.

She lifted Sarthos with an explosive heave. His head lolled against her left shoulder. She sprinted into the woods, bouncing over the thick roots.

For what was like an hour, she saw the edge of the wilderness. But she was losing direction as the sun rose close to noon, and her muscles ached, threatening to drop Sarthos and her. But she persisted, working her legs towards the end. Then she stopped at the edge and saw the mountain, the natural wall stretching to the entry through the border.

Her back rested against the tree, then she dropped to sit on the ground. Her arms had not relaxed as she refused to let Sarthos go. Her blue eyes searched for the cave mouth as she recalled the time she entered here. Then she said, “Sarthos, we’re almost here.” Although she knew he was not responding, as he was still asleep.

She took a brief moment before standing up again. Then she sprinted across the glade. He groaned as his skin hissed.

She wasted a breath once, “Hold on, Sarthos.” The cave mouth grew larger and larger.

With a final explosive lunge, she threw themselves inside the mouth. The black cloak flew off as they rolled across the ground. Sarthos lay on his back, away from the sunlight.

His golden eyes opened and found Ioana lying and panting on his chest. She pulled away, and her eyes widened. His countenance had already lost youthfulness, carving inward toward something close to the skull.

“Sarthos!” Without a thought, she unbuttoned her coat.

His raspy voice barely formed a sentence. “What are you doing?”

The coat dropped on the ground as she pulled her tunic’s collar, baring her neck. “Drink my blood! You’re getting weak!”

He could not even shake his head. “N-no.”

Her fingers forced his weak mouth open, baring his canine fangs. His hands wrapped her wrists but were unable to yank them out.

He grunted, “Don’t do it, please.” But she forced her soft neck to his mouth. He said in a muffled voice, “No.”

But she gasped and sighed as her skin sank his fangs. His brows arched down, his eyes widened with tears welling up, and his palate met a sweet sting of blood. His hands left her wrists to find her back, holding her down. She gripped the back of his black curls tight.

Soon, his skin grew smooth, and he found his strength to pull away from her neck. He strained out a single word. “Why–”

But her warm mouth clamped his bloody mouth, silencing him. Her eyes were already closed. Then she pulled back and opened her eyes. She muttered, “I love you.”

She fell on her side. He got up to his knees and pulled her into a hug. “Ioana, please. No.”