Blood.
Whether as food or as a source of energy, so much of a vampire's life was spent thinking about blood.
And the more he killed, the more Vlad thought about blood.
The smell of it in the air.
The tang of it as he tasted droplets which splashed across his face.
The texture of it squeezing between his fingers.
And the energy of the wild fulfilling gulps he swallowed as he tore throats with his fangs.
It called to him.
Seduced him.
And, in an endless flow of violence, the vampire answered.
A bandit threw himself in front of Vlad, desperate to protect his fellow Clan members. "Run! I'll hold him off-"
Vlad cut him down.
"Weak," Vlad shouted at the fleeing bandits. "You are all so weak! How can you speak so boldly when you are this weak?"
He glanced back at the wagon.
Grinned at the stunned elder.
Then gave chase.
"Mangy dogs!" Vlad's voice rang through the mountain pass. "Is the Full Moon Clan now just a pack of cowardly bastards?"
Some had already transformed, their pace increasing as they raced away.
But the stragglers were easy to deal with.
One cut.
Two.
Limbs left lying in the mud.
He darted after the others, quickly reaching his limit as he pursued them with everything he had.
I can't let them escape, he thought.
It wasn't time for the Black Dragon Court to fight directly with the Full Moon Clan. Let the death of their dogs be a mystery.
No one would believe the weak fledglings of the Court could wipe out so many werewolves. It would sound ridiculous to their arrogant pack leaders.
He slashed wildly at the back of a fleeing beast. The sword raked down its back.
Blood fountained.
The dog fell with a final yelp and was still. Vlad bared his fangs and kept running. Seeing a beast racing ahead of him, he put a burst of blood energy down his leg and kicked off a nearby tree.
The ground split and cracked beneath his feet as he vanished forward. A blur which darted at the fleeing werewolf's back. Trees whipped past as a shockwave boomed in his wake.
The thrill of the chase made him grin even wider and his eyes glowed red with bloodlust.
His sword took the bandit square in the back, impaling him on the blade. With a savage twist, Vlad carved up through the bandit's torso and watched the blood flash in a wild arc on the echo of the beast's scream.
Before the corpse hit the ground, Vlad was gone.
Streaking through the shadows.
Flitting between the trees.
He kicked off a trunk, causing splinters to explode out from under his toes.
Sailing through the air, he snatched at a branch and rocketed onward.
Leapfrogging from tree to tree.
Searching.
Finally, he saw movement and pounced.
Muscles coiled as he landed and swept the blade in a brutal sweeping slash which clanged off a bandit's own sword.
The bandit hadn't changed form yet.
He looks so young, Vlad thought. Maybe he can't complete the transformation yet.
Lifting an arm, the bandit squealed; "Wait! I-"
Vlad chopped the limb and smiled cruelly. The Full Moon Clan deserved not an ounce of pity for what they'd done.
His second swing took the bandit's head.
"It's too late for that."
A movement from his left. He brought his sword up just in time.
Claws raked against the steel, jolting Vlad's arm with the force of the blow.
"You might've killed those trash," the werewolf snarled. "But I'm-"
Vlad brought his sword up in a blazing uppercut of steel and blood energy. The red energy crackled and flared like flames, helping the steel to carve clean through flesh.
"You're all trash to me, dog."
Licking his lips, Vlad glanced around.
Wasn't there another bandit?
He was sure there'd been another.
Taking a deep breath, he cocked his head and listened…
Listened hard.
Heard the gentle sway of trees in the wind. The pitter patter of light rain.
His own heart thudding in his chest.
Crackle of blood energy dancing up and down the sword like liquid lightning.
Nothing else.
Had he lost count?
"Tsk," he clicked his tongue.
How long since he'd fought the Full Moon Clan? Hundreds of years to them. For him? About twenty.
But he couldn't forget the joy of it.
The Full Moon Clan were mostly Turks. Descendants of the Ottoman army who'd harassed the Court for years.
Before joining the Black Dragon Court, Vlad's own family had been put to the sword by the Ottomans. He'd been captured himself.
Tormented.
Tortured.
Kept in a cage like a dog.
The grudge against them would never wipe clean.
I shall allow no dog to live!
"You might as well come out," Vlad called, squatting down beside the corpse. He put a finger into the puddle of blood and lifted it to his lips. Licked it. "Do you think I will just go away? Or do you think you can wait until dawn and I will disappear? That won't happen. Where is your pride? What kind of bullshit coward are you?"
For a moment, nothing moved.
Then, slowly, a figure stood from behind a nearby bush.
He was slim, but compact. His belt carried a dozen knives. Maybe more.
He had one in his hand, and a hatchet in the other.
"I wasn't waiting for dawn," he growled. "I was gonna hit you from behind when you left."
"Of course you were," Vlad said with a roll of his eyes. "All you Turk dogs are nothing more than backbiters."
"It was a mistake," the bandit hissed. "We should've just killed you. Freck shouldn't have let you have the honour of a duel. A monster like you doesn't deserve such things."
"Wasn't much of a duel."
"Whatever." The slim man rolled his shoulders and massaged his forearm. "We were only supposed to take the fresh meat out for a stretch through the mountains. Give them some light training for experience. But Freck had to be greedy with the merchant. I told him it was a dumb idea. But he had to show off…"
Vlad nodded.
He'd guessed all the werewolves he'd hunted were inexperienced.
They were the equivalent of the Black Dragon Court's fledglings.
Weak and stupid.
It also explained why not all of them had been able to transform at will. Most would only be able to do it when the moon was full.
He glared at Vlad. "I'm not as easy to kill."
"Sure."
"I'm not."
"Keep telling yourself that," Vlad said with a sneer. "But I've never met a dog who could fight."
"We destroyed your Court once already!"
"You killed a bunch of leftovers," Vlad pointed out. "Those who were too weak or wounded to fight in the last battle."
"So? We still destroyed them."
"Dumb mutt," Vlad sighed. "So used to hunting in packs. You don't know what strength is."
"I'm strong." He lifted the knife and hatchet. "I've beaten Freck in a fight more than once. I can carve you up, vamp."
"Get on your knees, dog. Get on your knees and beg. Maybe I'll kill you quick."
"You don't scare me!"
Vlad pointed. "Then why did you piss yourself? Your pants are all wet."
"I didn't-" He scowled, glancing down to check.
It's an unconscious reaction.
And one he immediately knew was wrong.
As Vlad powered from his squat, the force of his movement causing the ground behind him to spray dirt.
"Seventh step," Vlad spat.
He felt his heart crash inside his chest as the last drops of blood energy were sent coursing through his veins. The wild heat of it made his eyes glow crimson as energy arced down through his fist and travelled up the blade.
With both hands, Vlad thrust forward.
The tip of the sword flared bright, lighting up the clearing around them with an eldritch red glow which caused the werewolf to flinch.
He brought up his hatchet to block the sword.
Prepared to bring his knife up and bury it in Vlad's guts.
He prioritised his own safety, deciding to protect himself. That was his move.
Vlad's was more decisive.
A missile of blood energy burst from the tip ahead of Vlad's thrust. The long thin point of energy speared ahead of the blade and melted steel as it blasted through the hatchet's thick blade.
Hot glowing chips of steel shrapnel spat to the ground with an angry hiss. The smell of burning steel was so sharp Vlad could taste it.
The red spike didn't stop there. It knifed into the werewolf's shoulder.
The high-pitched shriek rang loud in Vlad's ears as the sword followed in the missile's burning wake.
The blade screamed through the reeling werewolf's chest, exploding out his back on a wave of blood and bone as the shockwave blew the bandit's insides to shreds.
Without pause, Vlad shoved his boot against the bandit's hip and wrenched the long sword free.
Watched impassively as the werewolf collapsed, writhing in agony in the mud.
"I thought you said you could fight, you mangy mongrel."
"Damn… you!"
Vlad shrugged. "Too late for that, dog."
"They'll… come… for… you…"
"Good. It will save me going to them."
And swung the sword one final time, decapitating the beast.
Silence returned to the mountains.
For a moment, Vlad listened to the rain.
Then, with a predatory glint in his eyes, the vampire knelt beside his kill.
And began to feed.