by Kallysten
This group, Eyrin quickly assessed as she took her first look at the few huts made out of branches, probably didn't have a leader. With someone at their head, demons spent less time in one place, and certainly not enough to build decent cover. On each side of the camp, her fellow Childer were stepping in too; the Master was almost directly across from her. She wasn't sure whom the demons saw first, but the alarm suddenly ran through the camp, grunts and shouts calling all demons to arms. There was a dozen of them, maybe a few more, to the six vampires in their midst. Excellent odds for the vampires.
The first clash of her sword onto an axe hastily raised in defense sent a tremor through her arm that made Eyrin wince and grin all at once. Her sword swung again, and this time it found flesh to part and blood to spill. When she left the gurgling body behind her to find a new opponent, it didn't occur to her that she was taking revenge for the wounds that had been inflicted upon her. Instead, all she could think of was that Ian would be safe, at least for one more night.
Chapter Five
Once again, Eyrin slipped the woven bracelet that Ian had left in her room while she was feeding onto her wrist, and, as usual, she hadn't acknowledged it or Ian in any way. He had found it amusing, the first few nights, but as time passed he was beginning to wonder if she was playing with him, giving him hope as she wore his gifts but meaning nothing by it. His Sire had warned him the previous morning about staying focused on the hunt rather than letting his mind drift over to Eyrin, but there he was again, watching her as they rode, noticing her inattention while barely aware of his own.
He was glad, when the Master divided them into pairs in prevision of the attack, to be partnered with Eyrin. He had longed to show her for a few nights already what he could do; show her that he had been a good student, and that she could be proud of him. He didn't let the fact that she looked dejected at the idea that they would fight side-by-side affect him. Or at least, he tried not to let it affect him; it was becoming more difficult to keep hoping with each additional rejection from her.
The blow came out of nowhere, and he didn't even have time to feel betrayed before everything turned black.
Coming back to his senses was a difficult process, and it took Ian a few moments before he could manage to sit up. He looked around as he brought a hand to the back of his head. This time Eyrin had gone too far, and he would tell her as much. However, she was nowhere to be seen. Her horse was still tied next to Ian's, but she was gone. It wasn't difficult to guess where she had run off. In the distance, Ian could hear the sounds of the battle he was missing.
He cursed quietly as he stood and bared his sword at once, hurrying toward the clearing and the fight there. When he stepped past the cover of the trees, he immediately understood that it was over. The other Childer and the Master where standing in the middle of slaughtered demons and were picking up the axes and other weapons the demons had fought with. Some of them would be added to the lair's arsenal. The rest would be sent to villages for the metal to be melted and reused.
"There he is!"
The exclamation from one of the male Childer brought all eyes toward him and Ian stiffened under the attention.
"We were beginning to think you had gotten yourself killed, young one,” the same vampire continued, his malicious smile widening. “But if you're still here, I guess you just hid until the battle was done."
The other Childer laughed or snickered before returning to what they had been doing. Only Eyrin and the Master hadn't laughed, and they both continued watching Ian as he came closer. Ian was ready to lash out at Eyrin, but as he glared at her he noticed how sorry she looked even as half her face hid behind a curtain of short hair. Sorry for what she had done, or sorry for the others mocking Ian because of it?
Before he could ask her, the Master's voice rose and he shouted a few sharp orders.
"Get back to your horses. We're done here. Return to the lair. Eyrin, take the lead."
She startled at that and gave their Sire a shocked look, but he ignored it, his hard gaze still on Ian, who felt more and more uncomfortable under the attention. She tried to say something, but an irritated word from the Master stopped her. Ian glowered at her as she walked by him, causing her to look away.
"What happened?” the Master asked, his voice cold but restrained when they were finally alone in the clearing.
Ian opened his mouth, ready to explain how Eyrin had kept him out of the fight, but he couldn't manage to push the words out. He had noticed—everybody had—how the Master was keeping a very sharp eye on Eyrin. There was no way to predict how he would react to what she had done. And as much as Ian was upset with her, he didn't want to see her punished.
"I ... got lost,” he said lamely, looking away from his Sire's piercing gaze. “I apologize."
The silence that followed felt heavier than steel, and just as sharp.
"You'd rather have me and everyone else believe that you're a coward rather than tell me the truth?"
Ian grimaced. He hadn't expected that his Sire would easily believe him, but he hadn't thought he would be called on the lie either. Admitting that he was lying, though, didn't seem like the best of ideas so he kept silent.
"Get my horse,” the Master demanded icily, pointing toward the woods behind him.
Ian did as requested, his mind running wildly as he did. He wouldn't betray Eyrin to their Sire, but he would definitely confront her later. He couldn't begin to fathom why she had knocked him out before his first real battle and exposed him to ridicule and taunts. In any case, it meant that he couldn't trust her to have his back in a fight anymore.
He could tell that his Sire wanted to resume asking questions when he returned to him, but Ian took the initiative.
"I would like to request a favor, my lord,” he asked with a small bow.
The Master snorted as he climbed onto the horse. “And you think I will grant it after you displeased me in such a manner?"
Ian clenched his fists but refused to drop his gaze. His only fault was to care so much about Eyrin that he was protecting her rather than himself. He intended not to be placed in that position again.
"I would like to hunt with another group from now on,” he asked even though his Sire hadn't granted him permission to even voice his request.
Rather than reprimanding him, the Master heeled his horse forward in the direction where Ian's horse waited. Ian walked fast to keep up with him, and kept glancing up at the thoughtful features that showed little of what the Master thought.
"In other words,” he finally said, “you don't want me to keep you in Eyrin's hunting group anymore. Is that it?"
Reluctantly, Ian inclined his head.
"What made you change your mind?"
They had reached his horse and Ian didn't reply as he straddled it, nor as they started riding back toward the lair. After a long stretch of silence, the Master simply said, “I see,” and when he did his voice sounded just a touch less cold.
* * * *
The congratulations from her peers about her fight as they were riding back to the lair left Eyrin bitter. She was in no way back to being the fighter she had been just a month earlier, but no one, not even her, seemed to expect as much from her. The simple fact that she hadn't been hurt was enough of a victory, and she wouldn't have minded the praises if not for what had happened with Ian.
She had only thought about protecting him when keeping him out of the battle. She had realized he might not be happy about it, but it hadn't even occurred to her that the others might believe that he'd deliberately avoided the fight, nor had she anticipated what their Sire might think of it all. She wasn't sure why he had stayed behind with Ian, but it certainly wasn't to congratulate him.
Would Ian tell him what she had done? He could have revealed it as soon as the others had started taunting him, but instead he had kept quiet. Eyrin wished she had found it in herself to defend him, but the glare he had given her had rendered her speechless. She had hurt him, deeply, and she would
have to apologize for it. She might need to do more than apologize.
She had never entered his chambers since she had led him to them the first morning after his awakening and so it felt a little strange to push the door open and slip in. She had decided to wait for him there so that she could talk to him as soon as he returned. The room was dark but she quickly lit up a torch on the wall and looked around with some curiosity. The fireplace looked as though it had not been used in days. A chair stood next to the pile of wood, a half-finished carving and knife resting on it. The bed, washing stand and clothes chest were the same Eyrin had in her own chambers. She had expected him to display more reminders of his human life, she realized with some surprise. She had done as much herself when she had first been sired.
Something else she had expected to find in Ian's room was conspicuously absent. His scent permeated the room, and her own was slowly mingling with it as she paced back and forth, but there were no others. It seemed that no one else had come to this room, or even slept in it. Eyrin wasn't sure how she felt about that. She didn't think she liked the idea that Ian might be so focused on her that he would ignore offers from other Childer. She had witnessed a few of them herself, she knew for a fact that Ian could have easily found a bed partner, or more. Then again, he might have been sleeping in their rooms for all she knew. The flash of jealousy she experienced at that realization was entirely unexpected.
She had been pacing for about twenty minutes when the door swung open. Ian strode in and banged it shut again. Judging by the way he froze when his eyes fell on Eyrin, he had not anticipated finding her there. His surprise didn't last long however and he walked to stand in front of her, his anger barely contained.
"Did it amuse you,” he practically barked, “to ridicule me in that fashion? Did you laugh with the others, on your way back? Poor Ian, so scared he hid rather than join the fight!"
The angry words felt like as many slaps to Eyrin's face.
"No. I didn't laugh. And I never imagined they would, or else I..."
She couldn't finish, unsure as she was that she would have changed her mind if she had been able to predict the consequences of her decision. Ian was in front of her, perfectly healthy and unharmed, or at least as healthy as a vampire could be. She wouldn't trade that for anything.
"So why did you do it, if not for a laugh?"
There was still a lot of anger in his voice and eyes, and it was surprisingly painful. She was almost relieved when he turned away from her to face the washing stand. His movements were brusque as he got rid of his cloak and tunic, poured water into the bowl and splashed his face and chest with it. It was easier to talk to him like this, somehow.
"I just wanted you to be safe,” she said very quietly. “I never imagined you would get hurt any other way."
"Safe?” he repeated, incredulous, as he turned back toward her and dried his face with a cloth. “By attacking me, you wanted me to be safe?” She was about to explain further but he raised his hands in front of him and stopped her from talking. “No, don't bother. I don't really want to know. I thought I'd show you tonight what I learned from you. I thought I'd make you proud. Instead, you taught me another lesson and this one will stay with me for a long time. But if you wanted me to leave you alone, all you had to do was say so, Eyrin. You didn't need to make me the laughing stock of the entire lair."
He was probably making things worse by being so loud about it but Eyrin forgot to warn him about that. She just wanted him to understand that she had only meant to protect him.
"There will be other fights,” she tried to explain soothingly. “Other demons to slay, other battles for you to win. I just didn't think you were ready for this one."
"Not ready?” he glowered, stepping closer to her. “I was ready, I—"
"You died once because of me,” she cut in as gently as she could. “I won't let it happen again. I can't."
She had thought he would rage and protest even more at that quiet declaration. Instead, the whole fight seemed to drain out of him and she watched, a little puzzled, as his features gradually softened.
"Listen, Eyrin,” he started, very softly, and reached to take her hand in his. She let him, unwilling to upset him again. “Our Sire said ... he said you feel guilty about the way I died. And that you've been pushing me away because of that. You have to see that I don't blame you. And you shouldn't blame yourself either. I had never thought about being a vampire, not really, but it is who I am now, and I'm fine with it. I like hunting demons. I like knowing that it keeps the villages safe. So please, don't be sorry for what happened. I'm not."
He sounded sincere, but Eyrin couldn't let his words reach her. She couldn't allow them to make sense.
"Whether you accept what happened to you is not the question,” she pointed out with a small squeeze to his hand. “You didn't choose to become a vampire. That's what's important. I am responsible for that, and I won't let any more harm reach you."
"But I did choose,” he murmured. “Our Sire asked us if I wanted it, and I did. It meant being close to you every day rather than four times a year, and I wanted that. I still do.” His face twisted in pain and he let go of her hand. “Or I did, until you betrayed me tonight. You talk about choices, but what about my choice to fight that battle?"
This time, Eyrin was the one who reached toward him, the back of her fingers caressing his cheek softly. She had wounded him more deeply than she had thought, even if she had been trying to protect him the whole time. Being with her, disfigured as she was, couldn't possibly be enough for him and so she had pushed him away. Fighting that night had been too dangerous and she had again chosen for him. She didn't regret either, but maybe it wasn't the best way to make up for stealing his life.
"What do you want from me?” she asked, whispering. “Just ask, and it is yours."
He sighed as she brushed her index over his lips. “I just want you. Just want things back to the way they were between us before—"
She shushed him by pressing her mouth to his, very softly as though he might break. She wished things could have been back to what they had once been, too. It wasn't possible, his heart would never beat again, but at least she could comfort him.
"Have me,” she breathed when she pulled back just enough to speak, and was rewarded when he smiled at her.
After these last few weeks when she had forced herself to stay away from him and to refuse all physical contact, the first gentle glide of his fingers up her arms and over her shoulders was enough to make her shiver. She tried to remain still under his caress and to let him explore her as he wished. She had always taken the lead before, her experience taking over and guiding his lips, hands and cock where she wanted them, but this time she would let him set the pace. She owed him as much.
He tugged softly at her tunic and soon it was falling to the floor. Her undergarment was tighter, designed to make riding comfortable, but he had played with the lacing before and he managed to quickly loosen and remove it too so that she was half naked under his gaze. She flinched when his fingers trailed over the healed but still prominent scars that ran from her left shoulder down her side.
"Oh, Eyrin,” he said, almost choking on her name, and held her tight to his chest, stroking her back gently. “It doesn't hurt anymore, does it?"
It hurts every time I see you, she wanted to reply, but bit back the words before reassuring him. It wasn't truly a lie; even her leg felt much better.
Still holding her close, he led the way to the bed and they lay together on it. A gentle hand ran over Eyrin's arms, breast and neck, barely there yet all the more arousing for it. She only stopped the questing fingers when they tried to brush away the strands of hair covering her face. Ian nodded briefly as though understanding she wasn't ready to be that naked in front of anyone.
He leaned back toward her lips and she remained passive as he kissed her, contenting herself with slowly stroking his tongue with her own as he explored her mouth. He caressed pointedly where her fangs
hid, but she refused to let them drop. She had taken enough of his blood as it was.
Still kissing her, he resumed trailing his hands over her, and the barely increased pressure of his fingers as they danced over her skin had Eyrin moan her need for more. She broke her resolution to let him do as he pleased and tentatively ran her hand over his arm and down his chest, spreading the few remaining droplets of water over his skin as she went further down. His breeches felt strained as she cupped his crotch and he arched into her palm in search of more friction. Her fingers were trembling when she pulled at the laces that would free him and she fumbled a little longer than necessary. Ian broke the kiss to let out a quiet grunt when she wrapped her hand around his straining cock and squeezed softly. She repeated the gesture, just to hear him again.
"I missed you,” he whispered in between the teasing kisses he laid over her neck and shoulder. “Missed you so much..."
The plea was one she had heard before. Time had indeed seemed quite long between Ian's visits to the lair, and Eyrin had learned to miss him too. She had had few human lovers as attentive to her needs and wants as Ian could be when she let him. Right now, though, she wanted to satisfy his needs and make him call her name. He was always so lovely when he came.