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Innocent Souls	By : UmbraElf Category: +S to Z > Vampire Hunter D Views: 2504 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Vampire Hunter D, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
- 6
Disclaimer: Vampire Hunter D is the property of its creator, Hideuki Kikuchi. I
do not own D or any of the characters related to the novel series.

Author�s
Notes: After a two year
hiatus from fan fiction for writing my first original novel, I return. The novel�s done, and as I�m waiting for it
to be proofed for me so I can edit it, I decided to write a fan fiction so I
wouldn�t go insane.

Innocent Souls

Chapter
Four: Dragon�s Breath and Wolf�s Fang

By: Elf

The window shattered.
Glass sprayed harmlessly to the ground.
A tiny, winged creature perched upon the broken sill. Bird like eyes
roamed the room as a tiny, forked tongue poked out to lick its reptilian
lips. Powerful forelegs crouched as the
serpentine creature twisted its head to look at its helpless prey.

Bronach�s eyes widened as the wings flexed and the
diminutive dragon jumped into the room.

She sighed in
relief as she started to breathe deeply through her nose. She let the air fill her lungs and looked up
at the ceiling. She breathed again. She heard the dragon�s claws scratch the
glass softly, heard the soft wheeze of its breath.

The dragon
sniffed at Cedric. Its serpentine tongue
flickered out again, whispering against the boy�s white cheek. It licked its chops in satisfaction and
opened its mouth. Bronach�s
eyes widened at the curved, long ivory teeth she saw there as it lowered its
head towards Cedric.

Its jaws made a
hollow thunking sound.

Bronach managed to sing under the shadow gag.

�Light your
fire,� was all she could manage.
However, she put all of her power into it. She arched back at the feel of her
voice. She could barely hear it, but it
was there, even more commanding than the whisper the Unseelie
let upon the wind.

The dragon turned
towards her. It tilted its head
thoughtfully as its glowing topaz eyes flickered over her bound form. Bronach glared at
it. It lifted its head high and made a
bright, chirping sound that was followed by a rasping sound, much like a match
being drawn.

The jet of bright
white flame filled the room when it erupted from the tiny dragon�s mouth.

The shadows
shriveled around her. She felt their
pull weaken at the sudden burst of light and warmth. She opened her mouth and jerked her head
back. She felt the gag slide over her
mouth enough to . . .

She screamed,
loud and hard at the ceiling.

The shadow
tendrils unraveled and slid from her limbs.
The one around her mouth burst apart and faded into nothing. Her body slumped to the ground as she gasped
for air.

The dragon was
crying in pain. It was furiously rubbing
its taloned hands against the sides of its head as it
shook itself fiercely. Its plum colored
wings beat rapidly before enclosing in a leathery membrane the color of
eggplant around the creature. She
watched as it crouched in fear, golden eyes peering almost coyly from furled
wings.

Her throat was
raw and aching. She was still shaking
and her body was burning. Her clothing
was clammy and sticky from sweat. She
pushed her hair from her face as she looked at the dragon.

She stood to her
feet. She shook herself off and
glared. �That�s it, wanker,
this is over,� she grumbled before launching herself at Cedric�s bed.

Or rather, under
Cedric�s bed.

She smiled as she
felt the familiar leather wrapped handle of her axe between her palms. She rose up and spun the axe. The dragon whirled around to face her.

Bronach charged, swinging up then down in a clean
arch.

******

D heard the
shrill scream right before his horse fell over.

He managed to
jump off before the werewolf tore into the poor creature. The horse kicked its legs wildly as the
hulking beast tore into it with teeth and claws. Blood and gore flew in the air and delicate
mechanisms rolled on the ground while the wolf tore the mechanical horse apart.

D landed
gracefully and went to draw his sword from his back. He scowled when his right hand found empty
air and the sheath empty. He took a
small silver dagger from his belt.

The wolf turned
to face him. His haunting yellow eyes
glowed in the darkness as he threw back his head and howled. Blood and gore dripped from his muzzle while
he sounded the call for his pack. He
lowered his head, looked at D, wiped his mouth with the back of a furred hand,
and smiled.

�Missing
something, Hunter?� the werewolf asked as he rose to his back haunches. Saliva dribbled onto the ground in a hot,
clear thread. The smell of wet fur,
musk, and blood was clotting and filling the air.

D took a stance
and flipped the throwing dagger into the flat of his palm. He narrowed his eyes at the werewolf. He heard another howl in reply and his
nostrils flared.

There. Behind me.

D spun around and
let the dagger fly. It spun through the
air and landed in the matted fur of the werewolf coming behind him. Its reddish eyes widened before it gingerly
touched the silver protruding from its chest.
It gave the other werewolf a forlorn look before it crumbled to its knees
and finally as a lifeless lump of fur on the ground.

Fur rustled and D
spun around again.

The werewolf
launched himself at D with a snarl. D
ducked down as it flew over head and lifted his hands up. He felt hot, thick fur underneath his hands
and pushed backwards. The werewolf
tumbled to the ground and D grabbed his foot and flipped the monster onto his
stomach.

The werewolf
kicked back at D. D blocked the blow and
rolled to his feet. He stood up and
twisted so that he was presenting his side to the werewolf. He lifted one hand near his throat and face
while the left hovered mid chest level.

The werewolf rose
in a fluid motion. It rushed at D with
his talons extended. D waited until he
could smell the monster�s rancid breath before bracing his hands on the wolf�s
furry chest again, twisting, and rolling his shoulder to use the werewolf�s own
momentum against him. The wolf rolled to
the ground again, but was back up on his feet in a heartbeat.

D frowned, the
werewolf�s jaws snapped with a hollow clunking sound. The shine of the silver dagger caught D�s
eye. He saw it sticking out of the other
werewolf�s corpse from the corner of his eye.
His eyes flickered back to the living werewolf as they were stuck in
their stalemate.

�Oh shit,� Left
Hand whispered, fear making D�s palm tremble.
D heard the soft howls and the gentle pants of breath. He was suddenly overwhelmed by the scents of
musk, fur, and the rotting stench of meat.
Moldering breath fanned against his hair, hat, hands and face as he was
surrounded by other werewolves.

He�s the
alpha, D reasoned as he
looked at the first werewolf. His eyes
flickered along the furry bodies of the other seven werewolves
approaching. His eyes danced towards the
knife sticking out of the corpse.

I need my
sword, he thought
grimly. Had he had his sword, he could
easily plow through the werewolves. With
the knife he could decimate half of the pack and head for safety. Unarmed as he was it was going to be
difficult to flea without injury. His
armor was already cracked from dealing with Ciaran.

His parasite was
pleading, �D, get your ass out of here.
You�re outnumbered eight to one!
And they�re werewolves. I
know you can�t get cursed, but I don�t wanna be
dismembered and become some overgrown mutt�s chew toy!�

�Quiet, they�ll
hear you,� D hissed tersely as he looked at the werewolves. His eyes narrowed as he thought about the
situation. They were circling him,
covering all potential exits and keeping him trapped within. Pack hunting coordination older than the
cursed that spawned them, and even in these times it was the most effective
thing to trap prey.

The alpha
werewolf snarled, �What�cha gonna
do now, Pretty Boy?�

D�s muscles
tensed. He looked past the alpha�s
shoulder at the castle so easily within his reach. He made that his destination. He focused on that and everything else was
just an obstacle to overcome.

He watched as the
werewolves hunched their muscles, saw the tension in the powerful limbs, waited
for the tick for movement, and when they sprang, he jumped. He flipped over them and landed nimbly on his
feet. Then he started to run towards the
castle, long legs propelling him quickly.

He heard the
werewolves give chase. The wind whistled
through their fur and the soft pant of their breath rise and fell with each
step. His cape was streaming behind him
like a banner. He edged forward as the
wolves separated into two groups to edge him off.

Turn
around. Fight. They bleed too, the dark side of D�s nature whispered
seductively. He quelled the urge until
he was jerked back by his cape. He
choked as he fell back to the ground.
His hat flew off of his head and he landed with a bone jarring crash.

He moved his arms
to push himself up when one of the werewolves bit into his calf.

Pain roared
through him like a living thing. The
edges of his vision blurred as blood started to jut hot and fast from the
wound. The coppery, sweet smell filled
his nostrils just as a second werewolf�s head lowered its muzzle to his throat.

Before it could
deliver the killing blow, D grabbed the monster�s jaws and yanked them apart
with a snarl. His vision sparked,
everything grew in detail and sharpened.
He could see the vivid crimson, pulsing lines marking arteries and the
darker teal retracting cables that were veins.
Under the musky stench of rot and wild animals, he could smell the rich,
honeyed scent of magical blood. His
fangs lengthened and throbbed in time with his now racing heartbeat as he
kicked out with his good leg.

The werewolf that
bit him reared back on his hind legs and growled. D rasped in a husky voice, �Stay.� D met the creature�s eyes and pushed with his
mind. The werewolf�s yellow eyes glazed
over as he staggered back dumbly.

�What the fuck?�
the Alpha male proclaimed as D spun to face him.

He lashed out.

Gleaming claws on
fine, alabaster hands flew past furred ones and parted through warm flesh. Hot blood spilled on D�s hands as the
werewolf staggered back, clutching at his now wounded throat. He fell to his knees and gasped at D.

D snapped his
foot up to kick the wolf in the mouth.
The werewolf�s head fell back, spraying more blood into the air. In his enraged state, D strode over to the
werewolf and froze.

He noted that the
other werewolves had taken the opportunity to rush to the castle.

He took a deep
breath and closed his eyes. He felt his
fangs retract back into place and his vision, while still quite sharp, dulled from the hypersensitivity he was using moments
before. The werewolf he had hypnotized
had ran off with his pack mates, however, the Alpha
was still trying to heal.

D walked over to
the corpse of the werewolf he killed earlier.
He yanked the dagger out and shook blood and gore off of it. Then he started to head for the castle again.

Except
he made sure to stab the knife through the Alpha�s heart and withdraw it on the
way.

******

Bronach shook blood off her axe and shoved her
hair back from her face. Her hair was
wildly falling around her, her clothing torn and bloody, and she had bloody
streaks all over her pale flesh, but she was smiling. A rather predatory smile as the frightened
arachnid man skittered back from her as she advanced with her axe.

His feet clicked
on the sleek marble floor. Bronach took a slow step towards him. He scurried back, his eight eyes blinking at
her. Then she charged at him. He turned and ran.

She slid to the
floor and pushed hard. She extended her
axe to the left and swung it up sharply to the right. The spider-man screamed as cool sickly,
yellow-green ooze poured all over her.
She cut up and flipped up to her feet with a satisfied grin.

�M�Lady, what�s going on here?� the nurse screamed, sliding
on various viscous fluids that had splattered into the hallway.

Bronach shook off her axe and looked around. She looked back at the soulless children
lying prone in their beds and the corpse of the arachnid man. She looked at the nurse and replied, �Get
back in there with the children. That
bastard put a Call out onto the wind so that anything hungry will know there�s
an all you can eat children�s buffet here.�

�My lady, they
could come in through the windows,� the nurse protested with a tiny squeak.

Bronach grinned and blew a gore streaked lock of
hair from her face. She retorted, �Not
if I had anything to say about it.�

The nurse looked
in at the small dragon indeed guarding the windows. It flapped its wings and hovered, watching
out into the night. Her topaz
eyes were alert and she watched the children as if they were own
hatchlings. It took Bronach
a simple song to tweak the dragoness�s maternal
urges, but it worked. A
second song to add a warding around the room and fragile windows. Then she saw to the hall herself.

The nurse gasped,
�My Lady there is a dragon in there!�

�A very helpful
lass, if I say so myself,� Bronach said with a tiny
grin. She frowned as her ears twitched. She spun to one of the huge windows in the
hallway. A scowl marked her pretty face
as she looked down to see the six werewolves running towards the castle.

�Well, bloody
hell, get into the room,� she shouted at the nurse before running off to face
the werewolves.

******

�Woah, looks like someone started the party without us,�
Left Hand whispered as D ran into the hallway.

D�s eyes darted
at the carnage around him. He frowned at
the legless arachnid man who was rendered in half. Gore in various colors was splattered across
the walls and the marble floor and gave the room an odd, sickly smell.

He counted the
remains of tiny child eating erlkings, whom Bronach was probably already quite familiar with, a moth
man, and he saw a spiny hand lying prone in the corner. D noted the lack of arm attached to said hand
but kept moving. He felt the hairs on
the back of his neck go on end as he felt a charge suddenly race up his body.

He realized he
reached where the children were being kept.
The whole area hummed and trembled with protective magic. It smelled richly of ozone and lavender. Bronach.

He felt a tiny
stab of amusement when he realized who had been the cause of the carnage in the
castle. He heard a tiny, chirping sound.
He spun into the room to see his sword laying
on the ground.

His eyes
narrowed.

Ciaran had been here. With Bronach. He ran into the room to collect his
sword. The sapphire around his throat
glowed faintly, casting him in an eerie blue light.

A bright jet of
white flame came rushing at his face. He
rolled to the side and peered up. A
small, dark purple dragoness hissed at him, her golden eyes blazing.

She drew back
into the air, higher this time. She
inhaled deeply, her chest rising and falling with each movement. Her wings beat the air mercilessly as she
opened her mouth towards D again. He
watched her open maw for sparks.

As soon as he saw
the bright blue sparks inside of the dragon�s mouth, he spun to the side. With a swift movement he took off his cape and
swung it towards the dragon. The
dragoness squeaked in protest as D gathered the ends of the cape and yanked her
down to earth. He tied the ends of the
cloth together in a makeshift bag and dropped her into the ground. The dragoness� claws and wings beat furiously
at the heavy cloth while D grabbed his sword.

He ran back into
the hallway to see a werewolf stumble backward.
He heard snarls and a feminine scream.
Not full of power and force, but afraid and injured. He smelled sweet, tangy, pure blood in the
air.

He unsheathed his
sword and rushed at the group of werewolves circling Bronach.

Bronach was nursing her left shoulder. Blood welled up in shallow claw marks, but
other than that she was unmarked. One of
the werewolves lunged at her, knocking her into the wall. Her axe was wrenched away from her hand and
it clattered harmlessly to the ground.

As he rushed at
the werewolves, indigo eyes met his.

Amazingly, she
grinned impishly. It lit up her face and
made that lower lip curve provocatively.
The werewolf snorted and reached out to touch her gore incrusted hair.

D braced himself
and covered his ears.

Bronach screamed: loud, hard, and long. The sound of it echoed through the palace and
shook the floor. Tiny bits of plaster
and stone crumbled from the walls. The
werewolf pawing her was thrown back.

Pain filled howls
filled the air. The werewolves clutched
their ears and howled mournfully. Some
of them even fell to their knees. Bronach flipped her axe back into her hands. D lowered his hands from his ears and readied
his own blade.

She smiled at him
and he nodded in return.

�Come, bring your
pretty face into my axe!� she taunted before charging at the werewolf who had
pinned her.

D said nothing as
he charged with his blade drawn. This
time he had the advantage. The
werewolves were still too stunned to react as he charged.

He swung up,
down, and to both sides. He felt his
blade cleanly cleave through flesh, bone, and muscle. Blood sprayed as heads rolled. Within mere heartbeats, he and Bronach were looking at each other standing in a pile of
lycanthrope bodies.

She took a step
towards him. Her face was alight with
relief and he found the expression novel and touching. Then worry clouded her pale countenance as
she looked at his wounded leg.

�Bloody hell, D,
the tossers took a right bite out of you, didn�t
they?� she asked as she knelt down to inspect the wound.

He tried to twist
out of her sight, but she grabbed his knee.
He stumbled slightly but managed to right himself. She studied the bite thoughtfully. Her touch was gentle and soothing.

He tried to
wrench his leg free again.

He hissed as pain
welled up through the wound once more.
He felt a stab of heat as the wound reopened. Bronach gasped and
pressed her palm to it. �Easy,� she said
softly, �Easy . . .�

�The children?�
he asked, looking down at her, reaching for any distraction.

�They�ll be safe
for the moment,� Bronach replied softly.

He told her, �Blackmoure is dead.�

�I gathered as
much. So, are you going to continue?�
she asked softly. D thought he detected
a bit of hope in her voice.

He looked around
to the great room where the children lay.
He thought of Cedric, who was now alone in the world. He thought of Blackmoure,
who had died for these children. It
wouldn�t seem right to quit now.

�You need help,�
D told her and Bronach smiled at him.

She retorted,
�Oh, like you were doing so great yourself now.
First, you need these tended.�

******

�Hold still,� Bronach hissed.

D jerked his leg
away from her and she glared up at him.
He told her, �It is fine.�

�Please, it�s
still bleeding,� she snorted as she grabbed his calf again. He tried to hobble away from her. She shoved him by the waist into the chair
behind him. D fell silently into the chair
and glared at her.

She knelt in
front of him as she looked at the wound.
She bent closer and scowled at the bites. His armor prevented it from snapping the
bone. �Damned mutts,� she grumbled as
she reached beside her.

D gave a sound
that was somewhere between an annoyed grunt and a sigh. She picked up the bowl with the poultice the
nurse just mixed for her. She began to
dab the reddish mixture onto the wound.

A light, fruity
smell filled her nostrils and she smiled.
D blinked and said, �Dragon�s Blood?�

�Luckily she had
some. It�ll form a light, easily
removable covering until this heals,� she explained.

A tiny, nasal
voice snorted, �He already knew that, honey.
He�s got brains, not just beauty.�

D�s left hand
closed into a tight fist. His jaw
twitched and his eyes narrowed. Bronach grabbed his wrist.
He started to jerk his hand away from her.

He asked, �What
are you doing?�

Bronach ignored him and tried to uncurl his
fingers away from his palm. He jerked
his hand away, she kept hold of it. He
jerked up and she came up with his arm.
He jerked his arm back towards him.
She teetered and landed right on top of him.

There was loud,
nasal laughing coming from his left hand.

�Would you just shut
up?� D asked as he glared at his hand.

Bronach blinked up at him. His black hair was spilling down his
shoulders, falling almost to his waist.
Without his hat, she could see his face clearly. She traced the aquiline nose, the full lips,
and those dark, soulful eyes with her eyes.

She wanted to
touch it. Touch him. Smooth that one lock of hair between his eyes
from his face. Her clean hand was
twitching towards it.

The light, fruity
smell of Dragon�s Blood mingled with the soft, clean tang of lilies.

�Hey, you know,
why she�s down there you can ask her to . . .� D�s fingers curved over his palm
again.

Bronach grabbed his hand and managed to slide her
fingers under his. His eyes
widened. She frowned as she made out the
distinct shapes of a nose and a brow.
Then something wet and warm flicked across her finger.

She yelped and
drew her hand away. �It licked
me!�

�Hey, she�s
pretty tasty,� D�s Left Hand snickered, �You might wanna
try it, D.�

D�s cheeks
flushed ever so slightly. He said, �I
apologize.�

�What�s there
anyway?� Bronach asked as she reluctantly stood up
from him.

D sighed and
opened up his palm. Her eyes widened at
the beady little eyes, the tiny nose, and the wide, thin mouth there. She poked its nose, then ran her finger under
its lips and poked it again.

She exclaimed,
�Wicked! You have a Life Force
Regenerator! I�ve heard of �em, but cor, never seen one in
person!�

�He has his
uses,� D replied stonily as he lowered his hand.

Bronach smiled and replied, �But that�s amazing
though.�

He simply
shrugged and looked at his leg. He
nodded and looked back up at her. Again,
that one lock of hair simply begged for her to smooth it.

�Thank you, it�s
starting to heal even faster now,� he said softly.

Bronach shrugged and replied, �Well, you�re
welcome.�

Then he stood up
and walked back to the children. She
sighed and ran a hand through her hair. Bronach
grimaced as she broke off a dried piece of resin from her hair. Apparently, arachnid men didn�t have
blood. Or it dried in some consistency
like resin.

The dragoness was
chirping furiously at her. Her wings
flapped as the dragon described what D had done to her. Bronach bent down
and pet the dragon�s sleek, scaly head.
The dragon purred and leaned against her hand.

�Thank you for
helping me,� Bronach told her as she took to the air
again. The dragon made a tiny, purring
sound before flapping out into the night.
Bronach watched as the diminutive dragon
departed before turning around.

Blackmoure was dead.
The faerie was named Ciaran. And he�d go to the next town to collect the
remaining souls he needed.

�And as noticed
just moments ago where werewolves and spider-men were attacking, the children
need protection,� Bronach mused dryly to herself.

�You could hire
other hunters using Blackmoure�s money. He wouldn�t mind.�

Bronach jumped to see D standing behind her. He was looking out the window at the flying
dragon as well.

Bronach leaned against the window pane and asked,
�But could I trust them?�

�Not in this
area, no,� D answered with an unreadable expression.

She toyed with
the crow pendent around her throat. She
twisted it along its chain before studying the dark jewels it was made
from. She looked at D with a tiny grin.

�I know of
another faerie who�d be willing to take the job,� she
answered dryly.

D said, �I�ll
start getting ready. I want to look at Blackmoure�s maps before hand, see where Ciaran would attack next before we leave. And to see if there is a
noble in the area.�

Bronach opened her mouth to make a comment about
bloodsuckers, but decided against it.
She didn�t want to offend her new companion. Not with that damned urge to smooth back that
one lock of hair that was still in his eyes.

******

�She seemed happy
to see you,� Left Hand said as D began to look through Blackmoure�s
library.

D replied, �Ciaran probably told her that I was dead.�

�Well, at least
he didn�t get his grimy, glowing hands on her.
I mean, he could have bound her up like he did you and not a damned
thing she could have done about it. I
mean, I know what I�d be doing. Well, if
she was willing because not gonna go there,� Lefty
prattled on, clearing its throat as D continued to look at the maps.

D allowed a tiny
smile to grace his features as he said, �I doubt that she would have let him
touch her, no matter what magic he worked.�

�Wonder what
magic she�s working on you,� the tiny parasite taunted, �Or what magic
you�re working on her.�

D argued, �You�re
being preposterous. Quiet.�

�Well, she�s a
looker, and she was damn tasty.
And that was just her finger.
Imagine how good the rest of her tastes,� Left Hand prompted happily.

D sighed as he
continued to look through the various maps Blackmoure
collected. Blackmoure
even kept journals about Nobles in the region.
D recognized many of the names.
Most of which he had killed. Even
Count Magnus Lee and his daughter Larmika were listed
in the thick tomes. Meier Link was
briefly mentioned, but there was no mention of his tragic love, which D thought
was just as well.

After all, he was
living proof that vampire and human romances didn�t end Happily Ever After.

Sighing, he
looked at the map. The nearest town was Batharoy. It was a
large town, but there was a problem.

He looked up when
the smell of lavender filled the room.
He turned around to see Bronach standing
there. She padded over to him with bare feet.

She was wearing a
simple white robe that hit her at about mid calf. It clung to her still wet skin, revealing
long, clean lines and lithe muscle, but still managed to look utterly feminine. Damp dark gold tendrils of wet hair clung to
her cheeks and dripped water down her face.
He swallowed as he watched the droplets slide a trail down her slim
throat.

He remembered Doris, fresh out of the shower like this. He remembered a desperate plea that he would
always remember, as well as a thousand regrets.
He remembered the smell of fresh skin and the sweet, coppery blood
underneath.

But Bronach didn�t rush to him, Thank God, but beside
him to study the map.

�Batharoy, I�ve heard of that place. Sodding hell hole
it is,� she said with a grimace.

D replied, �It�s
a home for bounty hunters.�

�Of the nasty
sort I�ve heard,� she snorted as she pushed her wet hair back from her face.

D gave her a
stony look. She lifted her eyebrow and
grinned impishly at him. He stepped away
from her.

He knew of the
hunters that she spoke of. Those like Rei~Ginsei and his group. The ones that took
advantage of everyone around them and thought themselves higher than everyone
else. Predators worse than the
ones that they hunt, D thought grimly.

He replied,
�They�re suppose to be helping people, not taking
advantage of them. Some of the hunters
out there are worse than their supposed quarry.�

�That�s why I�m
called for,� Bronach said with a tiny smile.

He looked at her,
dripping wet, wearing a dressing robe too short for her that hung awkwardly on
her, with her head held up like a queen.
Her eyes gleamed up at him. He
had an urge to have his Left Hand drop the glamor, so
he could see her true self.

Instead he said,
�It�s not going to be easy. There was
once a powerful vampire lord in Batharoy. Ciaran might join
forces with him.�

�Bloody hell,
when it rains, it pours,� Bronach sighed, �So, you
haven�t killed this wanker yet?�

D looked at Blackmoure�s journal and answered, �I heard word that he
was killed. There hasn�t
been any attacks at Batharoy for the last
thirty years. I have had more pressing
hunts than to chase one shadow.�

�Ones that payed better too,� Bronach
teased.

He glared at her
and retorted in an icy voice, �People in need, Morrigan�s
Grace. Besides there are plenty of
hunters in Batharoy, whether or not they are men of
moral isn�t really part of the equation if they do their jobs. Besides, if they are of fault, they will die
soon enough.�

�Ooh, fatalist
thinking. Candle
flicker and its over. Why bother
to socialize with them when they�ll be dead soon?� Bronach
bantered back with a smile.

D gripped the
table as he narrowed his eyes at her. �I
am a dhampire.
I don�t belong in their world, nor do they want me there other to do
what I do.�

�Because
you�re afraid!�
Bronach exclaimed, poking D�s chest with a finger.

D blinked back at
her and glared down at her hand. She
smiled and raised that sardonic eyebrow at him.
His head was pounding and spinning and a blurry, distracting heat was
bringing everything into hyper focus.

�And you are
infuriating,� D stated as he gently pushed her hand away from him.

She smiled
winsomely up at him and retorted, �I�m no damsel in distress that�ll swoon at
your pretty face either.�

D blinked as she
smiled up at him. She turned away from
him and said, �Come on, I was even holding my own. We were at a stalemate while fighting. It could have gone either way hadn�t you�d
brought your little hand into it.�

�Why are you
doing this?� he demanded of her. He
folded his arms over his chest and continued to glare at her. Yet he noted the stubborn lift of her pointed
chin, the chiseled line of her nose, the curve of her cheekbones, and that her
bottom lip was plumper than the top. A
sulky little pout that was beaconing his attention to
it with each smile, grin, and smirk she gave him.

Bronach answered, �Because I�m not a damsel in
distress that will simper and mewl at your presence. But I�m not a bigot who won�t ignore help,
and I do notice talent and wisdom when it smacks me in the face.�

D blinked at her
and she sighed in exasperation. D
frowned at her and she smiled at him. He
felt vibrations in his left palm. He
clinched his fist as his parasite laughed at him.

He sighed as well
and rubbed his brow. Then she began to
laugh, a rich, throaty sound. He looked
at her and she laughed harder, doubling over on the table with one hand on her chest.

�Bronach?� he asked.

She let out
another bark of laughter before sitting on the floor.

He stared down at
her and asked, �Are you alright?�

She looked up at
him. There were tears of mirth gathered
at the corners of her eyes. She giggled
up at him and wiped her face. She chuckled,
�Never better, D. Just . . . you
wouldn�t get it.�

�Wouldn�t get what?�
D asked stiffly.

Bronach smiled at him and shook her head.

He sighed and
looked at the map again. He stated,
�We�re going to need supplies, and what about the person you said would protect
the children?�

�She�ll be here
soon,� Bronach replied, still grinning up at him.

He wanted to know
what the hell she was grinning at him like that for.

But, he had to
admit that he was beginning to like it.
- 4
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Innocent Souls