A Cup of Blood

by Troy A Hill

  Greyback's mind intruded on my thoughts again. He began another set of scenes. The first he sent me was of his pack, what was left of it, as they ran through the woods. Not in a panic, but with purpose. Mother was in the lead. She blazed the trail away from the killers. Only two pups of her litter remained. The two younglings out with her now.

  The visions from the old wolf continued. Mother led them away. But, one of the younglings veered away. Distracted by something. Greyback smelled the trap and the human scent on it. The young bounded into this clearing. The old one dashed and shouldered the young one away. Unfortunately, his own paw landed on the trigger. The wooden jaws jumped and closed shut on the old wolf.

  Pain flooded his mind. Enough pain to make my wound ache. I flinched as he cut off his projected thoughts. My hands pressed my side where the tear in my flesh was still open. My demon flinched with me and howled in my mind. I had to force my arms to relax and opened my eyes.

  One of the young wolves stepped into the clearing. He had a small rabbit clenched in his jaws. His brother was a few seconds behind him. Another rabbit in his teeth. Both of the younglings brought their catch to me. Was I to dine first?

  “We are pack…” Evidently I was.

  I have never been fond of the blood of animals, but I’ve done it several times in the past when speed was of the essence. Animals just don’t have enough life force in them. My demon wanted human blood. Even large animals like horse or steer lacked the right life-power to replace human blood. But right now, any blood would do.

  My demon wasn't desperate enough to force me to turn on my new wolf friends. But she was awake now. And hungry. She kept my eyes locked on the rabbits. My demon kept trying to focus on the heartbeats of the two young wolves. She made my eyes drift up to them. Their faces cocked at me. Inquisitive. I could see my reflection in their gaze. My eyes, red with the blood thirst.

  I slammed my eyelids down and shuddered. Not the wolves. Rabbits. I had rabbits in front of me. I got my hand to move and pulled a rabbit close.

  With my eyes still clamped shut, to keep the sight of the wolves from my demon, I pulled my sling bag around. A single strap held it across my torso.

  Inside I found the cloth-wrapped bundle. I jerked the fabric until the coarse, thick fabric unwound from around the plain wooden cup. My master's cup. He had fed me blood from it, the first few meals after I had died and become a Child of the Night.

  The rabbit's fur still felt pristine, no blood upon it. I had seen dogs kill vermin before. A quick flick of their head, with the rodent between their jaws, was enough to break the neck of the animal. These young, half-grown wolves had done well. I set the cup in front of me and extended my teeth. Fangs, sharp and pointed. I made a quick incision on the dead rabbit, then held it over the cup.

  My demon smelled the blood. I let her open our eyes. She stayed entranced and watched the crimson drops flow from the carcass. We'd only get a mouthful or two, but it was blood. When the flow slowed then stopped, I traded one rabbit for the other. Another flick of flesh against my teeth and this rabbit leaked its blood into my cup.

  The young wolf who had brought in the first catch took it in his mouth and carried it to Greyback. He placed it before the older wolf, who dipped his head, and pushed it back toward him. The mature one took care of his pack.

  By now, the other kill had drained into my cup. I raised the cup and drained it in a swallow. My demon sighed. Not near enough.

  I placed the second rabbit before the other youngling. He too repeated the ritual and offered his meal to the pack leader. Again, Greyback gave it back to his young charge. The taste of its blood lingered on my tongue. It was sweet nectar that night. The first blood I had since Syram's untimely death.

  My demon wanted more. I repressed a shudder, and I struggled to keep her in her mental cage. The blood of two mere rabbits was nowhere near enough to sate our thirst.

  Mother wolf reappeared then, with two more hares, each much bigger than the ones the younglings had brought in. But my demon heard the wolf’s heartbeats again. I clenched my fists hard enough to get my nails to press into my palms. That was enough pain to distract her.

  I forced my eyes to stay on the hares that Mother dropped before me. Another nick from my fangs and I let my demon watch the red fluid run into my cup. My tongue slid across my lips, in anticipation. At least I had stopped my demon from focussing on the wolves.

  Once that rabbit stopped dripping its red nectar, I laid it on the ground before Mother. She cocked her head at me.

  “I only need the blood,” I pushed my thoughts out toward her. The aroma of blood sent a thrill though my body as I tilted the cup back. My demon sang as the blood filled my mouth. I wasn't sure if wolves knew how to shrug, but I got the sense mother wolf had. I shrugged back and nicked the flesh of the last hare.

  Mother took the rabbit to Greyback. This one he accepted and tore into.

  Once we finished our respective meals. I could feel the weak energy from the blood restore some of my vitality. But, it was far, far from enough.

  I stood, being careful to do so with slow movements. I didn’t want to startle any of my furry friends. The younglings looked up as they gnawed on the bones of their kills.

  "I really must be going," I said out loud, more to hear a voice than to educate the small pack. I projected an image of myself headed one direction, and the pack headed in another direction.

  “We are pack, we run together,” Greyback countered. I sighed.

  “Seriously, there are people trying to kill me,” I said, and projected the scene of the battle several days before.

  The old one’s answer came in two parts. The first was the sight of one of his old pack chased by men on horseback. Greyback followed with a vision of me running. The wolves ran with me. I understood the meaning he was sending. There was safety in numbers. More eyes and ears to watch and listen.

  Perhaps? I considered the idea. Their wolf senses combined with my abilities might be enough to negotiate the challenges ahead.

  Greyback stood, his injured leg held off the ground. I knew if I pulled energy from my demon I could outdistance the wolves. But, I wanted let that damned wound heal. The animal blood from tonight was a start. Just barely, but if I didn’t take energy from my demon for speed, that wound might just heal a little.

  I didn’t need a family, or even pets right now. What I needed was blood to give me energy. My demon was quiet for the moment. But for how long? I didn't want to turn on the wolves if I ran my energy too low. Once my demon took control of my body, she wouldn't distinguish friend from foe.

  With the Witch Hunters on my trail, I didn't need a crippled old wolf, and a mother wolf with two pups on my heels. I needed to get far away. No time for connections like these.

  I needed time and bloode to heal. The wolves could help by bringing me small animals. They might be an asset if I ran into Witch Hunters again. I’d be able to help them with any trappers we encountered. Greyback was right.

  “We run together…” I sent across our mental link.

  7

  We Are Pack

  I ran with the wolves. During the height of the day, when the sun could have sucked the most energy from me, I trusted my new friends. They stood watch for me, as I let earth close in around me. Three short periods of sleep, long naps was more than I had expected. Each one allowed me to draw some of energy from the soil. The land itself contained enormous energy. Not the right energy to compensate for human blood, but enough to keep moving. The life energy in the earth was vast but diluted. Human blood concentrated that energy.

  When I awoke before each sunset and shook my way through the soil, Greyback was there. He lay hidden in the underbrush and kept watch for us. I wondered if he ever slept. Maybe he and mother took turns, one of them slept, while the other stayed alert.

  The only time that one of them had tried to awaken me was when three riders came through the forest. I had sensed scratching on the ground above me. Within a few seco
nds, I was on top of the soil, a few leaves still stuck to my dress.

  Greyback was standing, alert. He sent me a vision of horses. I realised he relayed thoughts from Mother. The clink of metal came across her mental link. There was the noise of conversation, but the words were lost in translation. Wolves must not understand human words.

  Trappers. The metal was the chains on the wooden traps that hung from their packs. I debated whether I should lure one off as they spread out to set their jaws of death in the forest. I could use him to sate my thirst, to give me the energy I needed to heal that slash in my side.

  That was tempting. Too tempting.

  I let these three trappers go in peace. Too soon. It was too soon after the attack by Onion Breath and his accomplices to feed. We let these trappers move off in peace.

  I pulled my sling bag around. My hands drifted through its contents. A small purse with a few coins, my master’s cup, wrapped in coarse cloth to protect it. Some extra clothing. That damned medallion I took from Syram back in the hayloft. I pushed it deep into the folds of my bag. I didn’t want to see it, or feel it now, but, I could might melt the silver out of it and trade it to a farmer or a merchant if need be.

  The brush parted, and one of the younglings came in with his kill. He dropped an unlucky squirrel in my lap. I reached out and ruffled the fur of the wolf's head. Of the two, this one, the one with green eyes always seemed to like attention from me when he returned. This wolf had started to grow on me.

  I had to remind myself that I didn’t need a family, not even a wolf family now. I’ve been hurt too many times in the past. The problem with centuries of life is that I’ve outlived everyone I’ve become attached to. I don’t need the attachment or the grief when we have to part. Their lives were too short.

  The look in the young wolf's eyes reminded me of the eyes of a human child I had once known. His widowed mother and I had found love with each other. Our relationship grew, I stayed with her. I watched the young son grow into a man, marry, and begin his own family. I didn't just adopt his mother with my love, I also took him into my heart. They both knew my secret. They kept my trust and returned my love. We were a small but happy family.

  "Thank you," I said to the young wolf. I reached into my bag once again and pulled out my master's cup. After I had drained his kill, I passed the small furry animal back to the wolf. He completed his daily ritual and offered it to Greyback.

  The other young wolf brought in another rabbit. Then the young set out again and brought back more small animals. I had my cup filled several times. Another month of meals like this and my demon might quiet down. The two young ones gnawed on the bones of their meal, and Greyback nosed through the underbrush.

  Mother’s mental thoughts roared into my mind. “Two-legs on four-legs.”

  Men on horses rode through the light woods. They had seen mother and gave chase. The first glimpse of them she had sent showed them with spears. They pointed at her and shouted as they rode.

  Greyback and the younglings stood alert.

  “We are Pack. We run together…”

  The old wolf darted off with his three-legged gait. The young wolves right behind him.

  I swung my bag around behind me and grimaced as it slid across my injured side. I took a step, then stopped. I could leave. Head the other way. I didn't need a wolf family. They could care for themselves. This was my chance to get it alone. Just myself to take care of and watch out for.

  "Damn," I mumbled. I'm not supposed to get attached.

  I set off. My quiet footfalls barely touched the forest floor as I ran. I followed the wolves to help Mother. Even if they were wolves and not humans, they were my friends now. I had to help them.

  We are pack, we run together.

  Mother projected snippets of her run through the scrubby fields. From the glimpses back at her pursuers, I got the impression there were two on horses and a few on foot.

  Greyback led us on a diagonal to her path. He was a cagey old wolf. He'd want our battleground to be somewhere we could run interference, then melt back into the denser woods.

  As we closed the gap, I could hear hooves pound the ground. This area wasn't thick with forest but had copses of trees, interspersed between areas of scrub in low hills. We tried to stay hidden in the trees. But there were areas we had to cross with only lower vegetation. One of those is where they spotted Mother.

  I spied her running, a greyish-brown shape that darted between bits of scrub, amongst the tall grasses. She veered toward where we hid. We faded back farther into the underbrush. A narrow track showed where the deer and larger animals wandered in and out of this area toward the grassy clearing. It was that path Greyback wanted Mother to run to.

  She found a burst of energy and widened her lead. Greyback guided her with thoughts. Closer she came. Fifty feet between her and the horses became sixty, with yards to go before she crossed into the thicker, wooded area. She dodged through the trees. She twisted and dove off the animal path as soon as the undergrowth concealed her.

  Both riders spurred their horses into the tree line. They only slowed a little. She twisted her way through the brush. The riders split and closed in on her. One passed close to Greyback. With a growl, he was out of the brush. He darted between the legs of one horse. It panicked, reared and dumped its rider.

  The other rider stayed on Mother’s trail. She couldn’t shake him. Greyback and the two pups chased the other rider’s horse off into the trees. That only left one option to get the other rider off Mother’s tail. My turn.

  I leaped. I needed preternatural speed and strength for this, so I pulled energy from my demon. That loosened my bonds on her. But, I still had her locked in her cage. For now.

  I sailed at the rider. His face turned toward me right as our bodies collided. My momentum allowed me to push him from his saddle. His face betrayed surprise, but he reacted instantly.

  His arms wrapped around me. My momentum carried us into the underbrush, but his hold on me meant I landed awkwardly. As we tumbled, he moved to pin me, but I got a leg under his bulk, foot into his belly. Again, I drew on my blood-energy reserves. My demon helped propel my leg. It snapped straight, and he flew off, a good ten feet into the brush.

  “It’s her! Alert the Witch Hunters,” he shouted.

  Panic gripped me. An emotional weight I hadn’t felt in a long time landed on me, just as Onion Breath had back at my campfire. I was in trouble. If these trappers knew of me, then the Witch Hunters were close. Their silver blades were with them. They would hurt. My demon was too close to breaking loose. I couldn’t stay. The wound in my side twinged with the thought of the Witch Hunters.

  My instinct to flee took over. I couldn’t face those silver knives again.

  The memory of the cold press of that damned silver knife as it cut into my flesh — when it tore and ripped that gash into my body and my soul — sliced back into my mind. My feet took off before I knew what I was doing. I ran. The last bits of daylight in the twilight blue sky had faded, and the night was mine. My feet set a fast pace, and I hoped the wolves could keep up with me. But, we had to leave now.

  8

  Blades in the Forest

  Damn, I needed to heal, not spend energy running. Mother and the younglings ran parallel on either side. She darted back and forth, one of the young wolves on either side of my trail. They didn't treat this run as play. Greyback in the trap had been a transition into the beginnings of adulthood for the half-grown wolves.

  The trees flew by. I hoped Greyback could maintain the pace I set. He ran rear guard for us with his three-legged gait. Speed he could do, I had learned. But his dexterity, his ability to evade suffered. I pushed our pace to where he fell farther behind.

  Each of us with our own impairment. Mother had two offspring not aware of the dangers. Greyback ran as best he could with his injury, and I… I drew on energy reserves I hadn’t tapped for several centuries. I needed that energy now.

  After about ten minutes, I slow
ed to normal human speed to conserve what I could. But, I knew my reserves wouldn’t last long. Another day, maybe less. I needed two things right now: a lot of human blood, and then a week or two burrowed into the earth to rest and heal the damage. I felt my thirst build as we ran.

  Could I control the hunger?

  In the days since I had tried to sate the hunger with Syram that dull ache had changed into an almost frantic need. I didn’t believe I had hit the point where I’d turn on the wolves for their blood — yet.

  I relied on them to bring me their kills. They needed the meat; I needed the blood. I knew I was better off with the wolves as hunters, to bring me fresh kills. My demon, however, when she gained control, she went for the closest or largest food source. She didn't consider long-term implications, like the loss of a hunting partner. I'd learned that the hard way.

  But this fight and the mad dash had tipped those scales. Without warning, my need for blood crashed upon me. My demon sensed blood. Human blood. I pushed back the hunger as I tried to make sense of the scene that unfolded before me.

  Mother darted across my path. A young wolf yelped in surprise and wolves darted between the legs of a dark horse. In the spotty light that slid through the thin branches overhead, I glimpsed enough of the rider to recognise him. It was a Witch Hunter. The young one who had almost taken my ear off with a crossbow bolt several days ago.

  Verpa Dei! Whichever of the gods hated me today wasn’t done with me yet. The Witch Hunters were here. This one's skill with the spear was just as bad as with the crossbow. The young wolf dodged and twisted. Mother charged in, ready to nip at the horse. That left the rider for me. Two more steps and I could leap. I felt my fangs grow in my mouth. My demon wanted blood.

  I tried to maintain control and be smart in my attack. My mind plotted the steps, the grapple, and where my teeth would pierce the young man’s neck. My demon pushed hard against my mind. She was brute force, and I wanted finesse.