New Life

New Life

chapter 3

I

At midday the snowstorm started in earnest. As the wildly dancing snow of the blizzard denied even D his sight, the hoarse voice groaned, “This ain’t good. I bet you can’t see three feet in front of us!” Its languid tones were torn away by the wind. “I’m getting sleepy, too. There’ll be trouble if we don’t find us someplace to sleep.”

“I slapped on a heat pack.”

“That little thing doesn’t count for squat. It’s the temperature outside that’ll decide if we live or die.”

It was most likely already five degrees below zero or worse. D’s form was dissolving into the blizzard, and the snow was now up to his knees. If a normal human didn’t find shelter under these conditions, they’d freeze to death inside of five minutes. Even for one descended from the ageless and undying Nobility, walking was becoming physically impossible, with his speed now less than ten yards an hour. While pressing on wouldn’t be impossible, it would be pointless.

D surveyed his surroundings. Turning toward the mountainside, he put out his left hand. Immediately a sleepy voice responded, “Walk along the side of the mountain about fifty yards. There’s a cave.”

He reached it soon enough. The cavern was elliptical, looking to be twenty feet high at its highest point and over six and a half at the lowest, though it was half-filled with snow. It was rather deep, and the snow no longer gusted in when he’d ventured five yards from the entrance. Before long the wind would probably change direction. At any rate, this was the best D could do until the blizzard had blown itself out.

D continued toward the rear. The cavern was quite deep. Though there was no trace of any creatures lurking there, it would be too dangerous not to check anyway. Once he’d been attacked, it would be too late.

About ten yards in, his progress was checked by a rock wall. He pressed the palm of his left hand against it, and the hoarse voice quickly responded, “It’s okay. It’s the real deal.”

The Hunter turned and was about to go back the way he’d come, but halted. A shadow stretched out before him. Only half as dark as an ordinary shadow, it was that of a dhampir born of both human and Noble lineage. And strangely, there was no light there to cast any shadows. D had already slipped into combat mode. His right hand came up naturally, no doubt ready to shoot for the hilt of his longsword in the shortest possible time. Yet two seconds passed without any tension or killing lust. D turned around.

Where the rock wall had been the cave now continued on, and five or six yards ahead of the Hunter flames blazed. A campfire. Sap bubbled to the surface of the roughly broken tree branches. There was no one there. The area behind it was blocked by the cavern walls.

“Seems we’ve fallen into a psychological attack.”

It was unclear what, if anything, D made of the hoarse voice’s words, for he was emotionless as he approached the little fire. He hadn’t needed the hoarse voice to tell him someone had launched a psychological attack. The question was—how had he fallen for it? Whatever lurked in that cave on the snowy mountain, it had gotten the better of D’s instincts and his superhuman senses. Was this why the place was called White Devil Mountain?

He held his left hand out over the flames. They were hot. Slowly he lowered it again. Though the hoarse voice didn’t cry out, the Hunter felt the heat all the way to his bones. It seemed to be a real fire. However, his left hand didn’t react to it.

D put out his left hand again—and at that instant the scene all around him distorted. The howl of an enormous beast shredded the snow and wind, and a gigantic white form filled the cave. The snow that whisked into the air from the thud of the fallen body mixed with fresh vermilion, and it fell like rain on a huge, twitching white carcass.

D gave a light shake of his head. He was throwing off the scant vestiges of the illusion beast’s glamour. Its titanic maw was still open, with more than ten feet separating its upper jaw from the lower one. Each of those bore a pair of huge, yard-long molars. The form on the whole resembled the mouth of a hippopotamus. Yet the head and body combined only reached a length of six and a half feet. D saw several dead branches at the back of its lower jaw. It must have used those branches to convince humans who entered the cave that they were seeing a fire. And that was how it invited them right into its mouth. Because it showed humans in the snowy mountains the first thing they desired, the beast probably also possessed a slight ability to read minds.

Snow and wind broadsided the Hunter. The whole cave had been an illusion.

“That was a close one, eh?”

On the snowfield off to the right, a figure swaddled in a winter coat had just gotten up. He identified himself, saying, “It’s Crey. Remember me?” When he showed the Hunter the knife in his right hand, it was wet with fresh blood. Apparently even his thick gloves didn’t impede its use. He pulled off his goggles and tugged down his muffler, and sure enough, there was the face of the outlaw.

“Did you collapse on the way up here?” D asked. The man’s sudden rise from the snow must have garnered his interest.

“That’s a hell of a way of putting it. I came this far on my own ’cause you told me I was outta luck. Not bad, eh? My coat’s got a thermostat, and you can even toss on the hood and use it as a sleeping bag. Hell, you could sleep out in cold like this for twenty-four hours straight, no problem. It’s the latest thing, ordered special from the eastern Frontier. Speaking of which, you’re not wearing a winter coat, are you?”

Pounding the chest of his own bulky coat, he continued, “It’s bad enough that illusion beast pulled you in, but I’m surprised you can even walk in a snowstorm like this without a winter coat, goggles, a muffler, or anything. You guys with Noble blood are a breed apart!”

“Are you the one that killed it?”

They were alone on the snow-whipped expanse. Nevertheless, a grin rose to Crey’s lips at that odd question.

“Damn straight. Only it wasn’t just me. It was them, too.” The outlaw gave a toss of his chin to the snowy trail to D’s rear.

Before D could turn and look, three figures came into view—in a perfect line of small, medium, and large sizes. To be precise, there were actually four of them. A tiny figure bundled in a winter coat was strapped to the back of the giant, Dust.

“That was a close call, D.”

Her mask was pulled down, but Dr. Vera still clutched a rifle. Judging by the size of the sighting mechanism, it was undoubtedly equipped with a digital-imaging virtual scope. Just point it in the right direction and it would deliver an image clear of fog or gusting snow—making a precise sniper shot possible even when those factors reduced visibility to less than three feet. It was unclear whether or not D had noticed the bullet hole that had appeared in the head of the illusion beast.

“You owe us, D,” the tall, lithe figure beside the doctor—Lilia—said patronizingly.

“It’s okay. Think nothing of it.” Vera smiled at him. “I’m a doctor, but I was forced to take a life.”

“Don’t sweat it, Doc. Our selfish friend Mr. Sexy Pants here brought it on himself. He tried to be cool and go up alone, but he just ended up walking right into an illusion beast’s mouth and needing his bacon saved. Sure you haven’t forgotten the basics, D?” Lilia said, staring daggers at him through her goggles.

II

The sound of a running shower could be heard, mixed with a whistled melody.

“That’s ‘The Nobles’ Moon.’ A very popular tune in the Capital more than a decade ago.”

As she shared that tidbit with D, who was leaning back against one wall, the doctor trained a look of boundless compassion on the face of the tiny figure lying in bed. Lourié’s face was red and puffy, and his breath as hot as fire.

“I’m amazed one so small climbed as far as he did in this snow. He set out before dawn. Must really have had a good reason, wouldn’t you say?”

Apparently Lourié hadn’t told the doctor about his father yet. No doubt his poor equipment and his exhaustion had brought on his high fever.

“By the look of him, he’s coming down with pneumonia. I have some medicine with me, but it’s not likely to work on something this serious. Now it’s just up to his own strength.”

“This is one of the Nobility’s portable refuges,” D said in a flat tone. Vera’s cheeks flushed. The young man’s voice was that gorgeous. “It should be stocked with medical supplies.”

From off in the distance, Lilia called out in reply, “I bought this refuge from a traveling merchant. The medicine and weapons were sold separately. Too rich for my blood.”

Vera dropped her gaze. She had an uncommon number of wrinkles for her age, and her expression suggested she was about to earn more.

Merchants who specialized in buying and selling the Nobility’s things—everything from everyday goods to weapons and magical apparatus—met several different kinds of welcome out on the Frontier. In impoverished villages, the merchants might be killed or at least robbed of their wares, while in wealthy villages they would be paid whatever price they asked. The merchants were also in the habit of changing their goods in an effort to maximize profits. Take this refuge, for example: some merchants might throw in the weapons and medical supplies at no extra cost.

“In any case,” the doctor continued, “why did he come up here all alone? If nobody tried to stop him, there’s not much we can do about that, but if someone goaded him into it, I’ll curse them for as long as I live.”

“Will he make it?” D inquired.

“As I just said, it all comes down to the boy’s constitution. If we had just one of the Nobility’s nutrient supplements, he’d be all set in five minutes’ time, but all we can do here is sit back and watch.”

Vera’s gaze skewered D.

“Say, you have Noble blood in you, don’t you? Isn’t there anything you can do? Are you carrying any fortifying drugs or anything?”

“It’s no use, Doc,” Lilia spat coldly from the depths of the seven-hundred-square-foot refuge. “It’s great that you work as a doctor out in a Frontier village and all, but how could you be so misinformed when it comes to the Nobility, I wonder? That’s the problem with book smarts. You see, the Nobles’ blood is blue. And it’s cold enough to freeze anything it touches.”

“My, but aren’t you well informed,” Vera said, turning to find the tall woman in a combat bodysuit, white steam still rising from her.

As a warrior’s first layer of protection, the bodysuit was what kept their skin from harm, with most composed of fire-dragon scales or the hides of iron men. Judging from the luster of the one the girl wore, it was one of the more affordable lightweight metal-alloy types referred to as “smith made.” Still, it would deflect rounds from a high-caliber rifle as long as two didn’t strike the same spot, and no amount of biting from the fangs of rock serpents, lesser demons, or the like would harm it. Put second and third layers of combat gear over that, and it was said even an infant could serve as a warrior.

However, what protected this young woman’s body was of considerably less interest than the heavenly gifts beneath it. Full breasts bulged from the chest protector, and as if to emphasize the richness of her other assets, she had an hourglass waist and beautiful legs exposed by the merciless slit of the suit’s skirt. Every inch of her flesh was pink and steaming, and to make matters worse, she gave off an indescribable perfume. If some masculine foe were to suddenly attack now, he’d most likely lose the will to fight and succumb to her counterattack.

As her alluring scent spread mercilessly in all directions, Lilia’s eyes flashed with malice. You might even call it a glint of madness.

“My parents and two brothers were all drained of blood by the Nobility, then had their heads cut off. They had no problem feeding on them, but didn’t want them joining their ranks, I guess. My big brother was nine, and my little one, six. That’s what Noble blood really means. That’s what flows through him. No point asking him to do anything for humans. Don’t forget, this is the same man who left behind a moaning, feverish child.”

“That was only because he knew I was coming.” Perhaps fed up with the winds of hatred that billowed at her, Vera had risen to the bait.

“I wonder about that. Tell me, D: if the doctor or I hadn’t been there, would you have seen to the kid? Of course not!”

Her look of hatred faded away unexpectedly. D had gotten up.

“You may not have any medicine to treat pneumonia, but you have something I want. Can I have it?” he asked the doctor.

“Oh, could my meager equipment be of some use, I wonder?”

“Just a heat pack. They only had one at the general store. Apparently they’ll be getting more in tomorrow.”

“Well, I’ll be—I had no idea you were so sensitive to the cold. Will ten hold you?”

“One will be fine.”

“Aren’t you polite!”

Producing the red package from her pack on the floor, the doctor gave it to D, who then did something unexpected. He rolled up his left sleeve. An identical heat pack was wrapped around his wrist.

Both Vera and Lilia donned expressions that seemed to say, What’s pretty boy up to now?

Taking off the old heat pack and tossing it down a nearby garbage chute, he tore open the new one and wrapped it around his left wrist. As the two women inundated him with looks of suspicion, the Hunter made a fist, then opened it again.

Apparently no longer able to bear it, Lilia said, “What kind of hocus-pocus is this?”

“I’m sensitive to the cold.” As he said that, D bent his wrist back far, then slammed the palm of his hand against the wall hard enough for them to hear a snap. A low groan rang out. The eyes of both women, wide with astonishment, followed the source of that voice and came to rest on Lourié.

D headed for the washroom. It was located beside the bath. The reason there was such an amenity here although the Nobility inherently loathed running water was simple: they were for human women who hadn’t yet been turned into vampires. In one era, Nobles had brought human beauties with them like pets. They were a kind of status symbol.

He passed his left hand under the infrared water faucet, palm up. Water flowed from the faucet. Boiling-hot water. D peered down silently at the palm of his hand as transparent droplets bounced off it and steam wafted up. Ten seconds passed, then twenty—there was only the endless sound of running water, and D himself seemed to dissolve into the very flow of time. When three minutes had passed, the palm of his left hand had only turned slightly pinkish, but ripples passed through it and a tiny pit opened. The hot water flowed into it. Another thirty seconds passed, and suddenly there was a choked cough, like a living creature spitting up water, and warm water shot back up.

And then a hoarse voice drawled, “What . . . are you doing?”

“Nobles target their victims while they’re asleep.”

“Hmm.”

“Awake yet?”

“Not yet . . . Cold . . . So cold . . .” Here it let out a big yawn.

By the look of things, the countenanced carbuncle in the Hunter’s left hand had trouble with the cold. For that reason, it made sense that as he climbed in the fierce blizzard, D had fallen into the illusion beast’s trap.

“I have a job for you. Drink a little more to clear your head.”

Once again the hot water sprayed everywhere.

“Knock it off! Would you quit it, already! I’m already sharp as a tack.” These tiny shouts rang out mere seconds later.

“I simply can’t believe it,” Vera said, making no attempt to mask the admiration in her voice or in her eyes.

Just a few minutes earlier she’d watched with her own eyes as D put his left hand to the boy’s chest, and the child’s temperature had dropped rapidly, his breathing had returned to normal, and his perspiring had ceased. There were things from the days when the Nobility’s sorcery and witchcraft held sway that even now the strictest of doctors wouldn’t acknowledge. However, the phenomenon she’d just witnessed was impossible from the standpoint of physics—in other words, it could be called a miracle.

“Dhampirs can do things like that?”

D met the query from the stunned doctor with silence. Perhaps he meant that seeing was believing.

Lilia and Dust had already gone to bed. Only the two of them remained in the refuge’s living room.

“Even at my age, I still don’t know much about the Nobility,” said Vera, slumping back against the sofa wearily. Slapping the polished ebony armrest with her palm, she continued, “It all looks so real—this sofa, the table, and you.” From between chapped lips that hadn’t been adorned with lipstick for a long time, a thin breath escaped. “I mean, this refuge has ten more rooms to it! But with one press of a switch, it folds up smaller than an umbrella. Honestly, instead of hating the Nobility for their deeds, I’m more impressed by this—oh, do you mind if I smoke?”

Taking a crinkled paper pack from the chest pocket of her coat, she pulled a cigarette out before putting the rest away. She rubbed the end of the cigarette against the armrest, and it sparked to life.

“You a heavy smoker?”

Vera coughed furiously. The voice had been hoarse. Striking her chest a few times to get her breathing back under control, she said, “You’re quite the ventriloquist, aren’t you? But I can’t say I care for your tastes.”

D squeezed his left hand into a tight fist. The low voice was cut off.

“I went to college in the western Frontier, where I studied medicine and physics. As a result, I believe I know a little something about the scientific level of what the Nobles left behind and the substance of their civilization. The world may be guided by the will of the living, but it’s science that supports those efforts. Even hundreds of thousands of years from now, human beings probably won’t have reached the same level as the Nobility. Yet those same Nobles are now in their sunset. Are civilization and science such fleeting things? No, even with eternal life, they can’t stop the end of the world. What, then, is the meaning of life?”

“What do you think?” D inquired softly. Vera’s form was reflected in his deep, dark eyes.

The doctor hesitated a bit, taking a long drag of her cigarette, then slowly exhaling it. The smoke swelled like a mushroom, then quickly faded. Gazing at D, Vera said, “The meaning of life is . . . dying.”

Nothing from the Hunter.

“Or perhaps it would be better to say that being limited gives life purpose. It means people have to find a purpose for their own life. Even if they don’t always find one.”

“Everything finite comes to an end someday,” said D. A faint look of desolation flitted across his handsome visage. “In that respect, there’s no difference between humans and Nobles.”

“No, there’s a fundamental difference. Human beings can create life. For all their ageless immortality, the Nobility can’t do that. All they can do is drain humans of their blood and add them to their ranks. But they’re—”

“That, too, is a new life.”

Vera fell silent. She’d encountered similar situations before. That experience allowed her to choose the best response in a heartbeat.

III

“I don’t really understand what you’re saying.”

In the span of that one remark, the doctor’s brain was cycling through thousands of questions and answers. What are you saying? What do you mean by new life? New in what sense? How is that considered life? The answer came from a pitch-black region of the mind yet unmapped by cerebral physiology.

“D, do you mean to say becoming one of the Nobility is a form of living?”

“Perhaps it’s a new life.”

“Don’t kid me.” Vera smacked her right fist down on the armrest. Though a sharp pain ran all the way up to her shoulder, she didn’t notice it. Her whole body was hot. She wasn’t even aware that this was due to her anger. “And just how did you reach that conclusion? Those who are bitten by Nobles and join their ranks—they share the same loathsome thirst for blood, and seek it out. If that’s not a demon, what is?”

“Your kind also dines, do they not? Nobles drink blood—where’s the difference?”

“There’s a huge difference. They drink human blood! The person they feed on dies once. Then they become one of them. They’ll never know rest for all eternity.”

“Dying and then rising again. You wouldn’t call that a new life?”

“It’s not life. Nobles and their former victims aren’t alive, but they’re not dead either. They’re known forever more as the living dead.”

“What of the Nobles, then?” D inquired in a tone that remained as still as a winter’s night.

“They’re—” Vera began, but she had nothing after that.

“Do you know whether or not they too have died and come back? Have you ever considered this: if they were dead from the very start, yet they moved, and thought, and even created a civilization, wouldn’t you consider them a new form of life?”

The doctor shook her head vehemently. Her thoughts wouldn’t gel. D expressed a view that she couldn’t deny had occurred to her before. However, now she would give anything to crush that heretical doctrine.

“Nobles can’t walk in the light of day.”

“There are exceptions.”

“Nobles sleep through the day in coffins.”

“And humans sleep through the night in beds.”

“They drink blood.”

“Humans eat meat. But when they take a life, it can’t rise again.”

“The life that rises again is cursed! Just like the Nobility!”

“Condemning the existence of the Nobility without understanding them isn’t the sort of thing anyone who professes to be a person of science should be doing.”

“I know the Nobility better than anyone.” Vera’s voice suddenly became low. “My mother was employed in a Noble’s mansion. They paid her salary, and they promised her that no one would suck her blood. The master of the house kept that promise. But the first time one of his guests laid eyes on my mother—well, she tried to run, but her throat was torn open, and she died. I’ll never forgive the Nobility.”

“My, my!” a hoarse voice remarked in amazement.

In the clever eyes of the doctor, hatred swirled in dark whirlpools.

Instances of Nobles hiring humans for a set period of time and then returning them to their homes were extremely rare outside the Capital. In the present era (when the meanings of the terms BC and AD had been lost), records existed of the contracts entered into from the year 5000 to 7500—with the stipulation that blood not be drunk—and the number of humans employed by the Nobility in that time frame totaled 7,628 for the entire Frontier. A large number of contracts were destroyed by Noble-hating humans, so precise numbers weren’t available, but roughly ninety-five percent of those contracts were satisfactorily completed—a fact that was in those days (and in the present as well) a major blow to scholars of the anti-Noble faction. At that time, the traditional view that the Nobility saw human beings only as food was badly shaken. However, for all the scholars of the pro-Noble faction who asserted that the Nobility’s cruelty and blood drinking were an inescapable destiny imprinted in their very DNA, some twenty-three hundred years later new excavations had unearthed truths that came as a great shock. Thanks to other contracts and the journals of Nobles from that same time frame, it became known that for every contract completed satisfactorily, three times as many had been horribly breached. After that, the anti-Noble faction’s predominance was unshaken, and continued so in the present day. As far as humans were concerned, the Nobility were demons who’d ruled over them for nearly ten millennia.

“They’re the same,” D said, his voice flowing out in a low tone. As always, it was cold and boundlessly dark. “Science isn’t satisfied with merely observing phenomena. It’s the spirit of finding the truth that lies behind them—in demonstrating facts. You might even say it’s supported by the imagination. Have you never considered, Doctor, that it’s possible for Nobles and humans to live together?”

“Huh?” Vera replied, apparently dumbstruck. “Excuse me? What?” The doctor shook her head fiercely. “Wait just a minute. Not once have I—”

“Don’t lie.”

The doctor froze. D’s words would gouge out her heart and lungs, turning blood to ice before it could spray forth. “I’m not lying. You’re wrong. Why do you think I’d lie?”

“I can tell from the way you’ve been looking at this guy ever since we met.”

The doctor blinked stupidly. D’s voice had become the hoarse tone of another person entirely.

“Your average person just kinda loses themself in the sight. But underneath that, there’s a fear they can’t hide. A racial memory carved into humans’ bones—not even you can do anything about that. But the way you look at him is different. You’ve got the look of someone who understands him. Fundamentally different from those in the pro-Noble school, who are merely superficial, you have the eyes of one who’s struggled to understand the true nature of the Nobility and ultimately wrested free the truth. Even the tragedy that’s befallen you can’t shake that. No matter what evil purpose it might be put to, the truth of E = mc² doesn’t change. You know it.”

Vera was stunned. It took her a good ten seconds before she could say anything. “No . . . Now that’s a lie . . . As long as I live, I’ll hate . . .”

Her body began to tremble. The shaking grew finer and finer still, and then her body became a blur. She had surpassed the limits of the human body’s ability to shake.

“What in the world is she—” the hoarse voice muttered in amazement. “A physical and mental transformation brought on through molecular vibrations—I’ve never seen the like.”

What was taking place in the body of that ordinary country doctor?

At any rate, the shaking gradually subsided. Her blurred outlines resolved into one, the tremors themselves ceased, and Vera flopped back against the sofa.

“What the hell? Don’t make such a fuss over her.”

Despite the hoarse voice’s objections, D picked Vera up and laid her flat on the sofa.

“Leave her be. Dirty little tease,” the voice grumbled.

“When the spirit and flesh separate, do they both stay the same as they were before?” D asked.

“Nope. Some say they become like a whole different person. But I haven’t seen it for myself.”

“In what way?”

“Let me see . . . The most ordinary woman in the world could turn into the greatest liar of all time, or something like that, I guess?”

Nothing from the Hunter.

“This is serious, like holding a snake to your bosom. One of them’s a woman and a warrior at the same time; the other’s a doctor. Both of ’em consciously hate vampires. One alone could be trouble, but if the two of ’em were to team up, that’s about as dangerous as it comes. Why not put her down here and now? Ouff!”

As D was squeezing his hand into a fist, Lilia and Dust came running in, having sensed something unusual. They had longsword and club in hand. As for Crey—it seemed he was sleeping.

“What in blazes happened?” Dust asked, looking down at where the semiconscious Vera lay on the sofa.

“Not a thing,” said the hoarse voice. “She’s sleeping like a baby.”

“What? I got up for this?” said Lilia, letting out a great yawn.

No sooner had the killing lust left Dust than D asked, “Do you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Lilia listened intently, then blinked a few times and said, “Nothing—what, is there something outside?”

“I can’t see anything,” Dust said with a shake of his head as he peered out the window.

“Must’ve imagined it.”

At that hoarse remark, Lilia shrugged her shoulders. “Troublemaker. If you’re going to put the bite on someone, try to keep it quiet.”

“The doc—what happened to her?” Dust asked from beside the sofa.

“Just a tad anemic,” the hoarse voice replied. “She’ll be fine soon.”

“That’s not it. It’s not anemia, with that color in her face,” Lilia interrupted. Training a sharp gaze on Vera’s neck, she continued, “Her carotid artery’s fine, but just to be safe she should be stripped naked and checked. After all, we’re dealing with a dhampir here.”

“You did this to her?” Dust’s eyes gleamed.

“I suppose I did,” D replied, this time in his own voice.

“When the doctor wakes up, I’m gonna ask her what happened. Depending on the answer, you might be in a world of hurt.” His rough hands tightened on his club.

“Nothing happened,” Vera said, sitting up on the sofa.

“You okay, Doc?” Dust asked, stealing a glance at her before quickly returning his gaze to D.

“Just a little anemic. I’m not much good in the cold. Lilia, I’ll thank you to choose your words more carefully.”

“What’s this—you’re on his side all of a sudden? Well, that must be because he’s so damn handsome.”

“Excuse me?” The doctor’s wrathful countenance made the warrior woman shrug her shoulders.

“Okay, I’m sorry. That was out of line. But Mr. Bodyguard, you should look the doctor over from head to toe.” Swishing her tail, the Huntress returned to her room.

“You can go too, Dust.”

“But—”

“I’ll be fine. He doesn’t seem to have much interest in humans. Particularly in women.” Vera was even able to smile at that. “Surely you don’t really suspect he’s sucked my blood, do you?”

The giant of a man gave D a withering glare, looked once again at Vera, then promptly left.

“Ain’t that a cold guard man. We’ve got a vampire panic here, and he’d walk away from the culprit and the victim?”

At the disgusted tone of the hoarse voice, a bitter grin rose to Vera’s lips. “It’s okay, don’t trouble yourself about it. Forget that—what could’ve happened to me?”

“Nothing. You just fainted from anemia. You should call it a night. I’ll sleep out here.”

“I really do like this voice better than that other one,” Vera said, scratching her head. “And you intend to watch over the child as well? But you’re the one who needs to rest. Doctor’s orders.”

“Have it your way.”

As if his previous remark about sleeping there had been a fabrication, D headed for the door. He stepped out into the hall. It wasn’t a narrow passageway. One touch of a switch on the wall and a window opened—or rather, it came into being. Sunlight-loathing Nobles still liked to enjoy the night scenery. However, the existence of windows would let in the light of day. This was the resulting compromise.

Gazing out at a world where the blizzard raged like a crazed white demon, the hoarse voice said, “They’re out there, aren’t they? Tomorrow our trip’s gonna be rough.”

Naturally there was no reply. No matter what kind of trip it was, it could do nothing to deter this gorgeous young man from his course—or so his silence seemed to declare.

The window closed.

A number of presences that’d stayed frozen while D gazed at them finally began wriggling around out in the snow again but were immediately swallowed up by the howling blizzard.