When Blood Runs Cold - Chapter 274

“Don’t worry about what I can do for now. The less you know about me, the better. Just focus on breathing, I really, really don’t want you to die.”

A tight smile. Nestling in the crook of my arm, she whimpers like a puppy. My, I think incredulously to myself, sighing in exasperation at this stick like girl. Must mortals be so fragile?

But then something clicks in my mind, the most peculiar feeling, as if I have been through all this before. And soon that panicked feeling begins to consume me, washing up memories I had hoped to put aside for another few thousand years at the least.

A horrible feeling begins to gnaw in my gut, a memory slogging through my mind, one that I was so sure I had pushed away. The fear, the terror. Of being so close to obtaining the one you love only to lose them from your own careless mistakes. The fear that I might not save her in time, and the tightness of my chest every time I looked at her form, icy and cold as she bled out onto the ground. The blood, the dizziness, the way she had fallen into my arms as though her limbs were made of paper and her skin as fragile as the thinnest glass. The way she had begged, had cried in my arms as she bled out onto the floor.

‘I don’t want to die.’

I shake myself. Serena is not burdened by mortal weakness any more, I made certain of that. She will not be dying any time soon. Not again.

But no matter how many times I remind myself of this, the doubt that courses through my body is like a permanent frost in the winter: impossible to dispel. In my blood a lingering trepidation lies dormant and constant, the notion that with just one more slip up I will be left once again alone, that Serena will disappear like the leaves on a wind. And here I will be left, loveless, and cruel, as I always had been.

The girl’s fingers drawing into my skin like knives jolts me back to reality.

“I can’t, I don’t want-”

“Hey,” I remind her sternly, shaking her once as I squeeze her hand tighter. But part of this is only to distract myself, to push aside those doubts and memories that I disdain to linger on. Fortunately, it works. “Breathe, okay? In and out. Say it for me.”

“In and out,” she repeats shakily. Nodding, I twirl my finger round, motioning for her to do it again as I slide her off me, standing now. Biting the inside of my cheek I watch her as she does this, ensuring that she continues with the cycle. Nervous under my gaze, she continues, looping those words over and over under her breath, until the sound of it becomes little more than a droning noise in the background.

Good, I think to myself, giving her a final glance. At least she is breathing. But the trick has more to it than that. It keeps the mind focused, and while the mind is focused, the vampire venom slows in her system, and her body will continue to fight back. The longer she remains counting, the longer I can draw out her lifespan until…

Well, until she is alive no longer.

Rubbing my face, I turn to face the opposite wall, trying to collect my thoughts.

Now comes the next part. The hard part. I have only got one shot, one chance to stave off this turning, to keep her from dying. I have to make it count.

Snapping my fingers, great gushes of shadows rise up from the ground, swirling into a dense cloud of black mist that is so dense it appears almost completely solid. Inside it, a figure begins to take shape from the gloom, engulfed in that very same blackness as he stumbles his way out of it, coughing and wheezing.

For a minute, I hear the chanting stop from behind me, followed by a sudden inhalation of breath. But that will not do.

“Keep chanting and ignore me. You want to live, yes?” I call back, my eyes trained on the dark, bulky figure who takes shape before me.

“Y-yes!” she stutters with a fearful squeak. Snapping my fingers, I urge her onwards.

“Good, then keep chanting.”

She does not stop after that.

At last, the shadows and smoke have cleared from the centre of the room, leaving nothing else to veil this tall, bear like figure of a man from view. I am sure seeing this scarred but roguishly handsome man would be quite a shock for the former assassin girl behind me, but nevertheless her chanting does not falter, continuing to drone on behind us.

Swiping away the last remaining shadows from his eyes, Fangorn blinks desperately to get a clear view at what is going on, turning around to inspect the marbled room he is enclosed in. He does not take long to assess the whole room, thankfully not asking questions for he has learnt in his many years of knowing me that sometimes it is simply better not to. At first his eyes settle upon me, before slowly focusing on the chanting figure behind me, his face going so pale it is almost translucent.

Judging by the way his eyes narrow, I would hazard a guess he already has his suspicions about why he is here.

“So that’s the little lady who was stalking our corridors. Well, did you get much out of her?” he asks, stepping forward to go inspect her, but I place a hand on the flat of his chest, halting him in his tracks. Fangorn stops dead.

“Yes, but that’s not why you are here.”

He gives me an unfathomable look.

“So… you aren’t going to kill her? That is most unlike you Soren,” he laughs nervously, a twitch below his red eyes suggesting his confusion over the situation. Fangorn often gets a little twitchy when faced with something he cannot fathom- apparently Lilyana finds it cute, though I cannot really see the appeal. If anything, it is mildly irritating, but a good indicator of when the man cannot hold a lie.

Placing my hand on his arm, I draw him aside for a moment, screening us both in a veil of black shadowy matter.

“No, I am not killing her. She played no part in Azrael’s schemes other than the fact she was puppeteered. What is important is what I have learned from her.”

Fangorn raises an eyebrow.

“Oh?”

Pursing my lips, I continue on.

“Azrael is making an army of halflings loyal to him. Once they turn, they will be completely unglamourable, mass murder machines. I have no doubt Azrael will use them to brute force his way into getting, or taking down the soul that we are after. Perhaps even to threaten Serena too. But right now, our issue is that unless we do something, this girl here is going to become the first of many.”

Fangorn sucks in a breath, sparing a sly glance to the girl who remains chanting on the bench.

“You mean she has been bitten?”

I nod once.

“The process is not complete, she has not had enough venom injected in her, nor does she remember the bite. Azrael is creating ticking time bombs, Fangorn. Agents and spies he can plant within our camps, or in the homes of our allies that will turn as soon as their heart stops beating. And you and I both know that once that happens they will be near impossible to stop.”

Both of us share a knowing look.

Fangorn had been my right hand man in dealing with the red massacre all those years ago, when halflings had run wild and mindless on the streets decimating the population of Folk and wrecking havoc over Faey. It was a ploy from a rather minute group of noble vampires, a baseless attempt to win power using the masses and a cheap trick for turning people into monsters. We both know of their destructive power and volatile tendencies well enough.

It would seem Azrael is in favour of simulating that.

If only we had Serena here. Her methods for dealing with the halfling vampires in the underground mazes was an impressive feat to say the least. Perhaps she will catch a lead before things escalate too much and dismantle the problem from its source. Or maybe that is wishful thinking. She has enough on her plate already as it is, and to assume she has heard about this phenomenon even I have only just discovered… Its unlikely.

“So,” Fangorn starts once more. “What are we doing with her?”

I give him a long look. Slowly, his eyes move back to the girl. That’s when realisation hits him.

“Oh no, no no,” he says, holding up his hands with a desperate shake of her head.. Giving another look through the screen of darkness, he screws up his face, making an unfathomable expression. “You want me to turn her? Soren, she has already been bitten! It would just kill her!”