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Tales from the

Tavern

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Tales from the TavernAn independent fantasy and horror 'zine

Edited and Produced by:

Erika HigginsonHuriah Publishing 2011

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StoriesIn order of appearance

“Cut and Run” …............................................Erika Higginson

“Immortalis Fides”.........................................Natasha Eshoo

ArtworkIn order of appearance

“Rogue”.....................................LuciferaCat@deviantart.com

“Descendant of Dragons”.............Olga 'griffinfly' Drebas

“Sword Magic”...................................................Tanja Meurer

“Teh Smirk”........................................anndr@deviantart.com

Cover Art

“The Escape”...........................................Erika Higginson

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Cut and RunBy Erika Higginson

The woodlands shone with the golden light of a late afternoon

as Xanzyl guided her horse on the trail. In a secret panel in her saddle

sat the small package she was ordered to bring back for Clay, her

employer and a man that rarely tolerated failure. While fair, he was

known well on the compound for his tendency to not give many

second chances. She was glad to have pulled off her assignment so

quickly and secretly. As was usual, Clay didn't tell her exactly what it

was she was ordered to appropriate. He only offered a description of

the man carrying it and the container it was almost sure to rest in. She

knew it had magical properties. That much was certain when she first

came into the same room with it. Something about it made her

uncomfortable, but she reasoned that it would likely be trading hands

off the compound almost as soon as she brought it back.

Her long black hair, that was normally kept in a tight braid, was

loose as she reached up to absent mindedly massage her scalp. She

sighed, happy to be back in forest again, as it reminded her of her

childhood home in the vast Elven Woodlands far to the north. Of

course, the promise of a pouch loaded to the brim with gold coins did

nothing to dampen her mood. She was also thankful once more for her

armor, which not only protected her body, but also added to her innate

abilities for stealth. Her blackened studded leather armor and black

leather leather pants were almost a standard of the encampment,

because Clay always had made sure to offer the best equipment

available to the score or so of employees he sent on more dangerous

jobs.

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Sunset would be coming in only a few hours, but Xanzyl knew

she would make it back to the compound long before then. It was only

a few moments after this contemplation when she caught sight of an

unusual shadow moving up and to the right of her in the trees. She

kept her eye on it when she could, and as she continued to watch from

her lazily moving horse, it continued to follow along beside her. She

squinted, almost sure she saw some sort of heavily shadowed form of a

person.

“Who's there?” she asked calmly, but there was no immediate

answer.

Without letting her eyes leave the faint form in the trees, she

carefully climbed down from her mount. It was only a few seconds

later that the form lept down, wearing nearly identical armor and

answering Xanzyl's question as soon as she laid eyes on him in the light.

“I should have known,” she smirked.

“Xan, come with me. We need to talk, and I need to be sure no

one hears it,” Iz said. His face was serious, his jaw set. It was exceedingly

rare to see this side of Iz and it always worried her when it happened.

Without a word, she began leading her horse off to the right of the

path. She knew of a small, hidden glen a short walk away. When

working primarily with thieves and those willing to do just about

anything for coin, it was wise to have an area that offered a good

measure of privacy. She stopped about a hundred yards or so from the

road and tied off her reigns to a decently sized tree. From then on,

she chose her strides carefully, sometimes veering off to the right or

left seemingly at random to the untrained eye.

Both Xan and Iz moved with a fluid grace across the forest

floor, as both felt at home surrounded by trees and learned early how

to move through them without leaving any sign that they had passed

by. With barely a sound, they made their way to the small glen. Only

after watching for any signs of being followed did Iz begin to speak

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again.

“Something's not right at the compound. There have been a

number of orders for assassinations since you left on your last job,” he

said. He paused, trying to collect his thoughts better.

“Those kinds of jobs are not unheard of.”

“It's different, Xan. These aren't people that have posed us any

danger. I even recognized two of the names as priests in Honeymead,”

He said quietly, the pace of his speech quickening. She perked an

eyebrow and tilted her head slightly. This was, indeed, quite unusual.

“What else?”

“Aside from just a bad feeling in my gut, that's all the evidence I

have. You know me well enough to trust my hunches when I get them.

I've not been proven wrong yet to you.”

“What about Tobias? He's almost always in the boss's study. Didn't

you try to ask him?” Xan asked.

“You know my gift with animals isn't as well attuned as yours.

Plus, cats just don't seem to like me.”

“Excuses,” she smirked. “I'll see if I can't speak with him when we

get back.”

“I was actually going to suggest that we just vanish now. No one

would be the wiser for at least a day or two.”

“No way. I'm bringing back the most expensive package I've

gotten this year. My money stores have almost emptied, and I'm going

to need those coins if I have to start over again,” Xanzyl said stubbornly.

He couldn't fault her. He sighed and simply nodded his head.

“Back to your horse then. We'll make our way back. Let's use the usual

signal if we need to run.”

His rushed and shortened statements spoke loud and clear that Iz

was not at all comfortable with the prospect of going back, but he went

along with her anyway. They arrived at the one place he didn't want to

be in under an hour. Iz immediately broke off from Xanzyl and made his

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way to his cabin on the property. He only hoped he would get the

signal soon.

Xanzyl continued on to the stables, meeting the stable hand just

outside the door. She climbed down and retrieved her belongings,

including the small package, before handing him the reigns. There was

a small pile of gold with her name on it, and Xan had to keep herself

from sprinting for her boss's study.

She quickly walked up to the only all stone building, and also the

largest, building in the compound. In the basement was the extensive

training room, complete with practice weapons of various sizes and

multiple target dummies. The first floor housed the large common

room where residents usually took their meals or socialized. The smell

of an assortment of foods permeated from the kitchen in the back. Her

path, however, took her up the stairs to the second floor. She nearly

glided up the flight of stairs to his intricately carved wooden door,

portraying a mountainous landscape and appeared Dwarven made. As

per usual, it was closed. She knew she was likely expected, but decided

to offer her usual courtesy knock just before opening it and walking in.

Clay sat behind his dark stained wooden desk with a pleasant smile and

Tobias, an orange tabby, curled up on his lap and purring.

“I trust you had no problems,” he said.

“Of course not,” she replied with a confident smile as she

reached for the small package to set it on his desk.

He took the small box and opened it, purposefully blocking Xan's

view of whatever the contents were. He smiled greedily before

snapping the box shut again. He made no attempt to speak and only

reached into a drawer of his desk and pulled out a mostly empty pouch.

He sat it on the desk and slid it toward her. Xanzyl raised an eyebrow,

looking to him curiously. He simply motioned for her to take it. She

narrowed her eyes momentarily, trying to figure out what he was up

to. She opened the pouch and returned his smile before tightening the

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strings once more and concealing it in her backpack. Instead of getting

paid in gold coins, the pouch contained several platinum coins and a

few large gemstones. The contents were easily worth a fair chunk

more than what she was told she would be paid. This worried her, but

she did her best not to show it. She knew Clay as a man of his word. If a

deal was made, he would perform to the letter and seldom, if ever,

renegotiate.

“Always a pleasure doing business with you, Clay,” she said. In just

that short amount of time, her mind had already connected with Tobias.

“I need to have a talk with you, Tobias. Would you join me later in my

cabin?” she asked the purring calico.

“You know something's wrong, too?” he questioned her.

“Yes. Come later and we can discuss it. I'll even give you some salted

beef.” She knew it was his favorite treat.

“I come tonight. I won't be long. I'm already hungry. You know he

sometimes forgets to feed me? But sometimes that nice guy at the stables

feeds me,” the cat rambled. He might have looked full grown, but at just

around the one year old mark, his mind was still quite young. It was

about that time that Xan was walking out the door.

Long after night fall, Tobias kept his word and jumped through

Xan's open window. She guessed Clay ended up feeding him shortly

after she left, and he confirmed that fact for her moments later. As

promised, she still gave him some of the salted beef left over from her

journey. Without any prompting, the cat started explaining what he had

seen.

“Clay's been getting a lot of those yellow shiny things, the ones he

gives all you guys. And there’s these strange men that have been stopping

by a lot. I don't like them.”

“Why don't you like them?” she asked.

“Just...wrong. They don't belong here. They're wrong.” the cat

relayed, unable to clarify any better.

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“Alright, what do they look like?”

“Don't know. Always hiding in cloaks or shadows. They smell like

death.”

While Xan was already concerned, that last statement rattled

her. “Are you sure? You could smell death on them?”

“Very sure. Other weird smells, too, but definitely death. Strong

smells of death.”

Her heart sunk. From just the few key phrases that Tobias

relayed, she had no doubt that Clay was getting a little too friendly,

even if in just a business sense, with necromancers. While rare, and

punishable by death, necromancy still existed in the world, and it was

not the first time Xan had come across their kind. She knew then that

she would once again be forced to flee the place she called home.

“Is there anything else I should know, Tobias?”

“Something big's happening soon,” he said nervously, crawling

over to lay in her lap. “I don't know what. I can't understand them when

they talk. Is that because they aren't Elves like you?”

“Probably. I'm also better gifted than many of my own kind. That's

probably why Iz can rarely seem to talk to you.”

“No, I just don't like him. He smells strange, kind of like dog.”

Xan couldn't help but chuckle. It seemed Iz's assumption hadn't

been too far from the mark with cats. “Thank you, Tobias. You have

proven yourself once again to be a very big help. You realize that I must

leave this place now, don't you?”

“I do. I want to run, too. Bad things are going to happen here.”

“I do not know where my road will lead me from here, but you are

welcome to follow for a while,” she paused, thinking for a moment. “I

want you to go outside, out of sight. Then wait for Iz and I to meet up. You

can follow us when we slink out.”

Tobias purred briefly, nuzzling his face against her hand before

leaping out the window. She sat unmoving and silent for a time as her

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mind continued to wrap around the new found information. She knew

it was time to pack up anything of value that she could easily carry

with her. Her cabin was small, barely big enough to contain a cot, a

short dresser, and a small fireplace. She went for the dresser first,

simply pulling out drawers and setting them on the cot to go through

the belongings quicker. Her bare necessities were already in her pack,

as she always tried to travel as light as possible. She opened up the

worn leather bag and began filling it.

She smirked slightly at the fact that the very armor and skills

that Clay had given her were given in order to not only build her

weapons skills, but also escape situations beyond her combat

capabilities. These skills would now be utilized against the very man

who made it possible. It seemed to her that fate delighted in turning

the tables on mortals, and she was no one to question the path fate

presented her.

Bit by bit, her bag was filled with the few sentimental trinkets

and relics of past adventures. Most were interesting baubles and the

occasional piece of jewelry, alongside the entirety of her money, her

mother's herbalist journal, and a few days worth of traveling rations.

She managed to fit in enough clothes to suit most occasions, including a

green silk robe recovered from her home village. She looked at all she

would have to leave behind and shrugged to herself. It was amazing to

her how much she accumulated in her five years here.

“So be it,” she whispered to the empty room. She carried her

bulging pack and walked out her door. No sooner had she rounded the

corner of the cabin to place her pack in the shadows did she hear a

cry of alarm coming from the other side of the camp. She crouched in

the shadows and edged her way to a better view of the direction it

emanated from. Instinctively, her right hand was already resting on

one of the sabres at her hips. Everything in her screamed to simply

flee, but she had always been much too curious for her own good, and

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she still needed to make contact with Iz.

As she watched, there were more shouts followed by a sickly

green flash of light in the darkness. It looked to be far past the main

hall of the compound and in the general area that housed the novices

of the organization. Xan didn't know exactly what it meant, but the

feeling in her gut from the unleashed magic in the air told her clearly

that it was no good. She knew she didn't have any desire to find out

the details, so she slipped her pack on and headed for Iz's cabin.

His windows were dark, so she crept up as quietly as she could

manage. Once she was under his window sill, she reached up and lightly

knocked in the agreed upon pattern with three extra taps to signify to

head east. She was thankful Iz's cabin was one of the furthest away

from the center of the compound. It would make things much easier,

particularly with such a commotion on the opposite end. She made her

way about twenty yards due east of the cabin and sat behind a decades

old elm tree. Then, she waited. Within two minutes, Iz was beside her.

Iz's hands flashed, daggers already in them, and signaled to

Xanzyl with flourish of the dagger in his right hand and a nod of his

head. Xan rose immediately, the pommels of her heirloom sabres gripped

in her hands. She was ready to bring them into battle.

“What are we facing?” she responded in a hushed tone.

“Some guy in a black robe and a few of his decomposing

friends,” he said, also keeping his voice low.

Her response was mostly quiet swears in the smattering of

languages she knew. She took to his side and stood ready to face

whatever came their way. She nodded to him once and he disappeared

up the tree to her right. She didn't have to wait long to spot the small,

motley group Iz had warned of about fifteen yards out. Arrows would

have been useless against the walking dead, which meant she would

have to get in close with her sabres. It was time to play the role of the

distraction once again.

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To make sure she got the dark mage's attention, she retrieved a

throwing knife from her boot and flung it at the man with enough

accuracy that it was on course to at least nick him. Her suspicions of

his power were confirmed in his quick actions, seeming to summon a

wall of wind around him to deflect the projectile. Once he spotted her,

he raised his hands and began chanting. Xan didn't waste any time

ducking around the tree holding Iz. He reached his arm down, helping

to pull her up to the branch supporting him. Only a few seconds later,

the mage and his shuffling companions passed underneath. There were

ten walking corpses with him, some of which were recognizable as

former members of the compound, but Xan and Iz were both

confident.

Iz nodded to her, and she returned it. They had worked

together enough to know each other’s strengths, and Iz was one of the

best she had ever seen when facing wielders of magic. Her sabres

were much better suited to maim, if not permanently kill, the zombies

than were Iz's daggers. No words were even necessary for them to

spring into action in unison. Two of the walking corpses were missing

their heads before the mage even turned around, though the bodies

didn't seem to realize it for several seconds. A snarl escaped from the

lips of the mage as Xanzyl and Iz felt him drawing energy into his body.

Iz had positioned himself in front of the man to keep him busy,

but he couldn't reach him in time to stop him. His only choice was to

try to dodge whatever he was about to throw. He feigned darting to his

left but instead tucked himself up and tumbled off to the right. He only

barely got out of the way of the bolt of lightning that emanated from

the dark robed figure's hand, though he now had a hole in his long black

cloak to keep the memory fresh. That flash of light illuminated Xanzyl's

foes enough to see that many seemed to have small burn marks on their

torsos, much like what one would expect to see from a bolt of

lightning.

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“Keep dancing with him, Iz. These things need to die again

before I can help!” she shouted in Elven.

Iz did just that. He stopped even considering trying to get a shot

with a dagger in and instead focused on avoiding the mage's spells and

keeping his attention off of Xanzyl. Both were a graceful beauty to

witness in battle. Xanzyl's sabres danced through the air, the pale light

of the moon reaching through small breaks in the trees and glinting

off the opalescent sheen of the spinning blades. She had dropped

another of the rotting figures and her sabres worked to enforce a

few feet of space around her. Every few seconds, one or two of the

creatures would fumble their way through her limited defenses and

issue a scratch or swing of its fist. Xanzyl could already feel a couple

welts and a few thin blood trails forming.

The edges of her blades found their marks more often than not,

but killing blows were difficult on such a monster. A club or a mace

would have been ideal, but Xan was forced to seek their necks with a

bladed weapon. Occasionally she managed to slice through limbs, but she

was well aware that would only succeed in slowing them. Iz continued

to dance and tumble around the mage, slowly leading him further way

from Xanzyl and her battle. With a few creative insults involving the

mage's mother and a torrid affair with a trio of Dwarves coupled with

a few mocking dagger thrusts, he had the man's attention. In his fury at

Iz, his spell casting started to get sloppy, giving Iz an easier time in

tumbling out of the way.

Xan kept up her own dance, now only facing five of the

original ten zombies. As she brought her left arm to her front to parry

the reach of the closest form, her right sliced through the air above

and then through the creature's neck. The head followed with the

momentum of the blade and hung loosely by a few inches of putrid

muscle and skin at the back right side of its neck. One of its hands

instinctively reached up, attempting to feel for its head before the

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body collapsed. That only left four. She chanced a quick glance to see

how Iz was faring.

When Iz saw how effective his initial insults were, he

continued with them. The man in the dark robes was now sputtering

and having a hard time calling forth any spells. Iz knew it was time to

take advantage of this opportunity. With one final verbal blow

comparing the mage's manhood to that of his wandering corpses, he

tumbled across the ground and felt a few bolts of fire wiz past him,

one of which scorched a fine line across his cloak and another that

glanced across his left cheek. The last one, however, caught him across

his left thigh. His leather pants could only shield so much of the magical

blast, and he felt keenly that this was going to be a pain that would

linger. He did what he could to push the horrible, burning sensation

from his mind, hoping that it wasn't as bad as it felt. As he tumbled, he

used the speed gained to launch himself from the ground and directly

at the robed figure, daggers positioned to hit first.

Iz was fortunate to an extent. He managed to catch the man mid

cast, but the mage was simply calling forth the flaming bolts once

more. Iz took one bolt to his right shoulder just before he connected

with him. The two hit the ground hard, but Iz had the luxury of a soft

landing on the mage's frail form. With his spell interrupted and the

wind knocked out of him, the mage lay dazed and blinking. The daggers

had found their mark in the man's torso, but Iz ripped his left hand and

dagger free to ensure death by quickly slitting the man's throat before

he could come to. Blood trickled from the wounds and spilled into and

over the thick black fabric of his robe. A slight gurgle issued from his

mouth and neck, blood also pouring from the assuredly fatal slice.

Xanzyl didn't see the bold move of her friend, but heard the

thud of their landing and the scornful laughter of Iz. A few seconds

later, he was by her side to help her dispatch the remaining four. They

didn't realize that they need not worry, for once the mage passed, his

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minions dropped to the forest floor. Not willing to take any chances,

Xan set to work relieving the still corpses of their heads as Iz fished

around in the bodies for anything of value. As they finished their grim

work and were cleaning their blades on clothing of the fallen, Tobias

sat down near Xanzyl's pack.

“We will be making haste shortly, Tobias. Are you prepared to keep

up?”

Mournfully, Tobias responded, “Yes. Clay is no more. Home is no

more. I will stay with the Elves.”

Iz was pleased to finally hear the cat speak, but he hardly cared

enough to bring it up yet. Instead, he urged them to move out. Xan had

already caught him limping, so she insisted he use her for support as

they left. They did what they could to block out the wails of agony and

the sounds of fighting behind them, knowing that to liberate any who

might remain alive would be a fool's errand.

It was perhaps two hours before sunrise when they reached an

intersection of one of the major trade roads, and Iz called a stop.

“I took the time to divide up the valuables back in the woods. I

can't be sure if it's perfectly even, but here,” he said, holding out a small

drawstring bag to her. She nodded, taking it from him.

“I take it that means we'll be parting ways again, old friend?”

“What's happened tonight is going to cause some problems in

the area, and we are somewhat known, at least in the sense that people

know we are connected to the compound. We'll have an easier time

avoiding uncomfortable encounters with enraged townsfolk if we go

on alone. There were a few guys that will likely be heading back from

Honeymead soon, and there's another group that should have just

reached Farthington to the north. They should be warned,” he

explained.

She nodded, not entirely pleased with going on alone again, but

understanding perfectly well the importance of it. “I will go north to

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Farthington, then. I've had some jobs there in the past, and I know it

well,” she reluctantly agreed. She just conveniently left out that she

picked it because it was twice the distance away that Honeymead was.

“Then Honeymead for me it is,” he smiled, looking to her. “I do

hate parting from that lovely face, but we both knew the kind of lives

we would have to lead. Perhaps fate will drop me in your lap again,” he

said with a quick waggle of his eyebrows and a lurid stare.

Xanzyl simply laughed and embraced her dear friend in a hug,

careful to avoid the worst of his wounds. “Once again, it was a pleasure

working by your side. Take care of yourself, friend. Perhaps fate will

see fit to pair our blades once more.”

With nothing more to say, Iz took the road heading west and she

took the road leading north with Tobias following silently behind. As

Xanzyl looked back, she saw Iz leaning heavier on the walking stick she

had retrieved for him back in the woods. She sighed quietly, shaking

her head at the fact he felt the need to put on a stoic mask for her.

“Foolish....as always,” she muttered to herself with a smile. For

thirty years or so, she had worked with the brash rogue as their paths

always seemed to meet up, even if it separated them for a time. She did

not know when it would be, but she knew she had not yet seen the last

of him.

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Immortalis FidesBy Natasha Eshoo

The sounds of screams and gunfire were muted as though I heard them under water, the snow covered landscape swimming at the edges of my sight. Through the ache throbbing behind my eyes in time with my heartbeat, I thought I could feel the bullet lodged in my stomach. Perhaps there was more than one buried beside my bleeding insides.

I did not notice the gunfire cease, the forested hillside strangely quiet after the firefight. I shut my eyes, trying to feel the cold of the snow bank I laid on, and was surprised to feel warmth fill my mouth. I coughed as I inhaled sharply through my nose, the warmth exploding into the bitter, metallic tang of blood as it left a hot trail down my chin. I opened my eyes to see familiar jackboots before my eyes, splattered with what I thought was the blood I had spit up.

"You have two choices for how I end your pain, Hans." Raina von Abel. Her voice with its Rheinland-Pfalz

accent was like cold water on my face, and I took in a shaking breath as I looked up the bloodstained SS uniform to her face, her eyes sharp and hot like the embers of a fire.

"I can put you out of your misery." She knelt beside me and held my face with both hands, her touch gentle despite the willing ability to break my neck. "Or you can accept an offer of blood . . ."

I woke with a jerk, my leg kicking out against my will

and knocking over a rake and a shovel with an awful clang. I

released a heavy sigh through my nose and ran a hand back

through my hair filthy with grime and specks of dried––

blood before looking up at the cracks in the walls of the––

shed. The sensation of night falling, tickling the back of my

conscious like a creeping itch, confirmed the time of day

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better than the sight of darkness beyond the cracked boards.

I frowned as I realized that I could not recall why Raina had left me alone in the shed to sleep for the day, or why I had

agreed. Her vague response was blood, whenever I asked why I

was so compelled to do what she said without question.

Answers as clear as mud, I sneered to the quiet of my mind.Then I felt Raina's presence nearby, and a moment later

she opened the door to the decrepit farm shed and motioned

for me to follow her.

"Sleep well?"

I brushed dirt and moss from the back of my uniform

and snorted. "Fine."

"Cheer up," she began as we left the shed, I at her

heels like always. "There's a meal practically waiting for

us."

"Really?" I felt a rush of heat through my veins at the

prospect as I stared at her back while we hiked through the

field. "What is drinking blood like?"

"It is what one might call an acquired taste. It will

take you a little while to get used to it, but you will be able

to fully enjoy it before long."

I stopped as Raina halted not far from the back porch

of the nearest farmhouse.

"Wait here," she said.

I nodded ever ready to accept her orders as I had as––

her lieutenant and watched Raina step onto the porch before––

fading through the wall, leaving that black puddle in her

wake before it vanished as well. I wondered how that was

done. As I stood in the chill evening air in my wet and bloody

uniform, I felt another pulse of heat and a shiver race up

my spine. I felt excitement and pride at knowing what Raina

would be teaching me tonight, and that I would be taking part

in something she had been doing for over five hundred years.

I had been so lost in my thoughts and daydreams that I

was startled when she opened the door and waved me in.

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Can you hear me, Hans? I stared at her in surprise, as I had distinctly heard her voice, though she had not spoken

out loud. Good, you can. Listen very carefully. I want you to stay here and keep a watch on the door. You understand? I nodded at her. Good. Raina turned away from me and made her way down the hall, her footsteps surprisingly quiet

considering she still wore her jackboots.

I looked over the well-decorated interior of the house,

before I felt a sudden jump in the normally steady and stable

power that emanated from Raina. She was doing something in

the room down the hall. My mind raced with possibilities,

until I found myself distracted by a picture that hung on the

wall. I stepped closer to it, noting that it was a photograph,

probably recent, of a middle aged couple standing in front of

the house with a boy between them, who looked my age.

Then I heard footsteps approaching the room, and I

stepped away from the wall before facing the hallway. The

woman from the picture, dressed in a long blue nightgown,

walked into the room with Raina close behind her. I stepped

forward as I noticed the cloudy, distant look in the woman's

eyes, and her curious indifference to everything.

"How "––"What you call 'mind control' is more like persuasion

than actual control." Raina began circling the woman like a

predator. "You exploit their dominant thought and emotion,

and twist it to suit your purposes."

"And hers were what?"

"Fear, mostly. She struggled to figure out who I was

and how I managed to get in without waking her."

"So how do you use that to make her . . . sleepwalk?"

"People who fear the unknown always tell themselves

that if they do not acknowledge it, the unknown enemy will go

away. As far as she is concerned, none of this is going on."

"What?" I was stunned.

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"I gave her what she wanted. I blocked her mind to the

world around her. Were we to leave and I let her free of this

hold, she would tell herself and believe that she just had a

horrible dream." Her expression was one of hunger, and I

could see her eyes glinting like an animal's caught in light.

"We will not be letting her go, however."

"Then you are both death . . . and mercy." I stared at

the woman's oblivious expression.

"When I wish to be." Raina stopped behind the woman

before grabbing her shoulder and kicking at the back of her

leg and sending her to her knees, still lost the illusion.

"But do not forget you are the same creature I am. Your blood

is as dead as mine." Raina forced the woman's head to the side,

exposing her neck and inciting that same raw fire I had felt

at the mere thought of feeding. "Drink from her, Hans. Drink

her blood and throw yourself into my world of night and

hunting. Drink, and take her life to feed your undeath."

I rested on one knee in front of the woman, my

thoughts quickly clouded over by my hunger, which now made

itself known in a painful way. My mouth watered as I caught

the scent of the woman's blood, Raina watching me expectantly.

I became conscious of hearing, feeling, the woman's heartbeat as I edged closer to her throat and the blood that waited just

below the surface. I was surprised at the resistance I met

when I bit into her neck, though it was not until I began

taking blood that I felt myself getting lost in the

invigoration the fresh blood gave me. My eyes rolled as I

drank deeply, the blood warm, almost hot, as it flooded my

mouth and slid down my throat. I was like a parched man

drinking a cheap ale, her heartbeat pounding in my ears as

it fought to keep her body alive. Blood trickled from my

mouth and ran down my chin, its metallic tang all that I

could taste and smell.

Then Raina pulled the woman away from me, and my

mouth came away bloody from her neck. Anger flared at having

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my meal taken from me, and I growled at Raina before

reaching for the woman. I jerked my arms back as Raina let

the woman fall limply to the wooden floor, blood smeared on

her neck.

I made a startled noise and looked away from Raina.

"I'm sorry."

"It's all right." She smiled in a comforting manner.

"Feel better?"

"Yes." I stared at the woman's body, able to smell the

blood her dying body still contained. "But I don't think I was

done."

"It will be enough to hold you. I need to eat too."

Raina knelt as she took my place at the woman's neck,

drinking what remained.

I crouched near her, my elbows on my knees as I

watched her feed with far more calm than I had shown. The

rush from feeding still lingering over my senses, I did not

notice the woman's husband enter the house until he stepped

into the room. Raina dropped the woman as we looked up, the

man staring in mute shock at the scene before him. Raina,

more feral than I had ever seen her, bared her fangs as she

growled a primal, ratcheting sound from her throat with–– ––

blood coating her lips. At the moment that an acrid smell

reached me the man’s fear, I realized Raina shifted to a–– ––

crouch, tense and ready to lunge at him.

Overcome in the throes of bloodlust at the prospect of

another meal.

Another fresh kill.

He made to bolt, and I charged him as if I had been

shoved. I tackled him to the floor, Raina throwing herself

into the mix before I even had a chance to pin him down. He

managed to drive his elbow into my face, and I could feel my

nose break under the force of the blow as I was shoved away.

Raina's hand closed around the front of the man's jacket, and

a guttural snarl reached my ears as she flung him into the

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nearby bookcase, his impact bringing the shelves down on top

of him. She was on him again in an instant, yarding him off

of the books and broken shelves and to the floor with a

brutal thud and crunch of ribs breaking.

She had him face down, and she roughly twisted his

arms behind his back as she hunched over him, her other hand

clenching a fistful of his hair as he held his head to the

side to expose his neck. He kicked out to try to free himself

as she bit savagely into his neck, still growling as her

knees on his shoulders pressed him harder into the floor and

she tightened her grip on his hair.

As I watched her feed, snarling like a dog defending a

bone, I realized what kind of monsters vampires were. I could

see what over five hundred years of killing and mauling and

feeding on blood would do, and I could see what I would

become. I took my hand away from my face cartilage grinding––

in my broken nose to look at it dripping with blood, and I––

knew that in essence, some of the blood was Raina's, the result

of our bond. She was my master, and I was her student, her

companion, and her charge. A protégé to a pure, raw predator.

Raina looked at me when she finished, and I had the

distinct feeling that she was looking into me, before warmth formed at the base of my skull as our eyes locked. It felt

like the heat was prodding my mind, and I found myself

unable to look away from her as I realized that the warmth

was the sensation of her digging into my thoughts. Without

warning she walked over before crouching where I sat, one

foot on each side of my knees. I could smell a combination of

pine trees, fresh dirt, and blood from our close proximity,

and I found that I liked it. She reached out to drag her

thumb through the blood from my nose, licking it away before

biting into her thumb. She never broke eye contact, and I saw

something in their crimson depths that made my stomach knot

up, the feeling not wholly unpleasant.

I was lost in her intent, predatory gaze, her pupils

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thin as black flecks danced around in the blood red hue of

her eyes. She pressed her thumb to my lips, her expression

speaking volumes of ancient hunger and bloodlust as the

distinct smell of her blood permeated my senses and that

expectant shiver of heat coursed down my spine.

"You once asked of blood and power," her voice was

subdued, as if she were talking through the fog of sleep, and

her accent was heavier. "I can bring you full circle. Just

tell me yes, Hans, and I will seal our blood tie beyond any

mere vow or promise."

"I . . ." I dug my fingers into the red, white, and black

armband on her sleeve as I licked the blood from her thumb,

tracing the bite with the tip of my tongue. Everything about

her at that moment was overwhelming me, and I did not fight

the euphoria that fell over my senses. "Make me "––She pulled her thumb away. "Then drink my blood, Hans."

My eyes were half-lidded as I looked at her, mouth inches

from mine and bearing the renewed scent of her blood. "Drink

my blood, just as I drank yours back on the field of war." She

pressed her mouth hard against mine, her bottom lip wet with

blood.

My mind was filled with images as I swallowed the mix

of saliva and blood in my mouth, and I sought out more of her

rich blood as we remained locked together. I pulled away from

her only to sink my fangs into her neck, the images becoming

more and more vivid with every drop of the blood I consumed.

I clutched her arms hard enough to bruise as she moved to

her knees, whispering words in her accent and dialect that I

could not understand.

I saw an open field as I drank, the sky dark and raining. There were bodies littered across the field, but they wore not uniforms and guns, but armor and swords and shields. There were dead horses among them, and countless arrows littered the ground with the corpses. I could see Raina standing among the carnage beside a black stallion,

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armored as warhorses were, and with blood letting from several cuts and gashes. Three large dogs stood with her; her hunters and hounds of war. Raina was splattered with the grime of combat as she held her sword at her side, blood running down the cold steel with the rain. She wore chain mail beneath black clothing, her cloak wet with rainwater and blood. A family crest was etched into the plate over her chest a wolf's face with two ravens above notched and–– –– scarred with the blows from enemy weapons.

Raina's weight over me grew heavier, and I felt her

hold on me tighten as her body pressed mine against the

wooden floor. I saw her hunt, I saw her kill, and I saw her be

captured. She had lied about her place in the Reich. She had

been blackmailed into servitude; blackmailed with the lives

of the two she had turned before me. She had still lost

them a pair of brothers and I felt tears under my eyelids–– ––

as I saw and felt her agony of losing them. She pulled away

from me before crushing my lips in another bruising kiss,

her knees pressing hard into my sides as she straddled me on

the floor. My own memories twisted with hers; of our last

fight at Ardennes, of being gunned down and bleeding out in

the frigid snow, and of her drinking my blood.

Of the day we met in Berlin.

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Special Thanks To:

Tanja Meurer, LuciferaCat, griffinfly and anndr from deviantart.com for allowing me to use their pieces. Each of you have so much talent and had absolutely perfect pieces for what I had in mind for this 'zine.

Natasha Eshoo for her story. You had me interested the minute you said 'Nazi vampires'.

And of course, all my fellow classmates in publishing, Wendy, and Marti for all the constructive feedback. I think only fellow writers know how valuable that is.

Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it enough to share.

For any questions or comments, please feel free to contact me as Xanzyl at deviantart.com or by email at

huriahdawnbringer@hotmail.com

Huriah Publishing spring 2011

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