Suppressing happy little giggles, Vlad flitted from body to body. His fingers delving into pockets and stripping fingers of bright silver rings.
The League must have grown richer since his day if their juniors could afford such things.
He couldn't wait to find out what they held.
Lifting a small necklace, he peered at the little gemstone with a critical eye.
Ruby.
Useless trash.
But it might sell for something. He stuffed it into one of his full pockets and counted the corpses again to be sure he hadn't missed any.
Then looked around the street.
Passers by were mostly ignoring what was happening and the guard hadn't even bothered to appear.
"What a strange place," Vlad muttered.
Then shrugged. It wasn't his business.
Hefting his sword, he lay it across his shoulders again and sauntered down the street in search of an inn. He would need somewhere to stay. Somewhere safe.
"Wait!"
"Hmm?" He frowned. Oh. He'd forgotten all about the girl.
She rushed up behind him, her slender fingers snatching at his sleeve. "Wait for me!"
"What is this nonsense?" He tried to pull himself free, but she was determined to cling to him. "Let go."
"No! You can't leave me like this. They'll come back!"
"So? What do you expect me to do about this?"
"Protect me, of course," she said, gawking at him like he was an idiot. He didn't like her expression. "I'm your Bride!"
That made him choke.
"Silly girl. You're not my Bride! You're not even a vampire!"
"But I will be when you bite me!"
"When I…?" He shook his head. "You know nothing about vampires. It's not like that."
"I don't care how it is. You have to make me a Bride."
"No I don't."
"Yes! You do! It's very important."
"Why?"
"Because…" She gulped as his crimson gaze focused sternly on her. "Well… Because…"
"Ah. You have no reason. Silly girl. Return to your home. Your parents will be worried."
"What do you know about that?"
"Tch." He shrugged loose of her at last. "I don't know anything about your situation. And I don't want to."
"But you saved me!"
"I did not!"
"Did so!" She crossed her arms in front of him. "Now you have to take responsibility."
He blinked at her.
What did she think this was?
He poked her nose with a sharp finger. "I don't need to do anything, silly girl. Run along before I choose to drink all of your blood and leave your corpse in the street."
"You wouldn't dare!"
He leaned in close and gave her a look at his fangs. "Really?"
"Eep!" She pulled back in fear, clutching at her heart.
Vlad gave a snort and turned away, stomping down the street again.
She wasn't his problem.
Whatever nonsense she'd gotten involved in with the League was between them. He didn't mind killing those cockroaches. In truth, he'd happily kill them all for no reason at all.
But taking a Bride was a responsibility he wasn't ready for yet.
And even if he was, there were protocols to follow. He couldn't just take any silly girl in the street. He would need to select from the Brides themselves. They would present their candidates and there would be as time of adjustment for both parties to get to know each other and-
Last time was so exhausting.
His Brides had been a mixed bag of chaos and madness. Especially the youngest one. She had driven him insane with her constant need for attention.
Thought of his Brides made him stumble.
He'd tried not to think about them since he'd come back.
They were a burden. They were troublesome beyond words.
But they'd joined him in battle.
Their ashes were now in the wind somewhere.
Could he face losing more?
Why should he?
Vlad shivered.
Maybe he would forget about Brides this time around. The advantages of having them at his back were great, but with the Blood Ocean technique, he wondered if he still needed the crutch they provided.
"Silly girl," he muttered, dismissing her from his thoughts along with all memories of his Brides.
Dawn was coming.
He could feel it like a tickle between his shoulders.
This body wasn't yet strong enough to handle even the weak rays of the sun, so he would need to hide during the day. A small part of him felt humiliated at the weakness, but the rational side reminded him he had been reborn into a weak body, and it would take time to form his core and awaken his true vampire powers.
If he'd had his powers, he could have used Flight to fly over the roof and kill the cowled League member without any real effort.
He might have been able to use Drain Life and kill them all without even moving.
Instead, he'd relied entirely on his sword.
There was nothing wrong with that, of course. He didn't feel guilty for it. The Black Dragon Great Sword Art was as much a part of him as his innate power. But he would not be able to rely on it against stronger opponents.
For now, his experience in combat had carried him far.
That experience would be challenged by those with greater strength.
So, he needed to grow strong.
Fast.
Smiling as he found his heart light with determination to rely solely on his own strength, Vlad swept his gaze up and down the street until he found what he was looking for.
An inn called the Coffin's Rest.
A small sign announced its acceptance of vampires, and he headed in its direction.
Heading inside, he paused in the entrance and blinked.
The interior looked almost identical to the Crimson Drop.
Even down to the scratches on the bar.
And the bartender behind the bar, who was cleaning a glass while humming merrily to herself.
"Harriet?"
Her head snapped up and a bright smile lit up her face. "A customer! Come in, dear customer! Welcome to the Coffin's Rest. My name is Harriet. Are you looking for a room, fledgling?"
Vlad squinted at her. "I'm sure this is somewhere else."
"I'm sorry?"
"You're Harriet."
"Yes."
"You run the Crimson Drop."
"Ah," she said, nodding quickly. "I see why you're confused. You see, the Crimson Drop is up the street a little ways. Perhaps you walked past it? This is the Coffin's Rest. We're an inn, you know. A place of resties?"
"Resties?"
"That's right," she grinned. "Do you need a coffin to hide in, dear customer? We have a very large range. There's oak, granite, and even onyx if you want it. All with clean velvet lining and soft cushions. And no bed bugs, I assure you!"
He shook his head, trying to clear his confusion.
"What nonsense is this? This is the Crimson Drop! You just served me blood." He pointed at the vats by her elbow. "From right there!"
"Are you okay, dear customer?" She gave him a concerned look. "Did you hit your head or something?"
"You're Harriet!"
"Yes."
"I…"
He broke off. Studying her expression which hovered on the edge of winsome, innocent, and smug.
And decided he was going nowhere with this.
"I want a room," he snorted. "Normal room. Nothing special. No window."
"Of course, dear customer," she said smoothly. "It will be two gold per night. In advance."
"And if I promise to tell my brothers at the Black Dragon Court?"
"Truly?" She gave him a shocked look and gasped. "You're with the Black Dragon Court, fledgling?"
"I am."
"Such a remarkable thing!"
Squinting, he grew more confused. Her surprise appeared genuine.
But how could it be?
"For one gold, I will let you stay for one night," she said at last. "But you must promise to tell your brothers!"
"Tch," he grunted, pulling out a coin and tossing it at her.
She caught it with a flash of her hand, her other hand throwing back a small key on a chain which he also grabbed out of the air.
Her smile didn't waver.
"Room number six, dear customer," she said, pointing to a door. "At the end of the hall."
He nodded, then paused as he grabbed hold of the door.
Said over his shoulder; "I sleep light."
"Lucky you," she purred.
"Hmph."
Was she truly ignorant?
No. He was sure she was mocking him.
He was also sure she was a vampire, but he couldn't recall any power which let one be in two places at once.
Still.
He didn't sense any danger from her. No threat.
Just amusement.
The kind that reminded him of…
Of someone he didn't want to think about.
As he entered his room, he nudged the door shut behind himself and locked it carefully.
The room was small. A little chest rested against one wall beside a wash basin.
A small chair and table on the opposite side.
And, in the middle, a sturdy oak coffin.
The coffin had a lid which could be locked from inside.
As promised, it was lined with velvet. Soft velvet, too. He ran his finger along the purple material and raised an eyebrow. It was quite superior to most velvets he'd touched.
It didn't belong in a stinky little inn.
Yet, here it was.
The mystery nagged at him. But he wasn't sure he needed to resolve it. Perhaps Harriet simply had secrets. That wasn't unusual. Most vampires had secrets. Especially an independent unassociated with any Court.
If he stuck his nose into her business, she might not appreciate it.
And he suspected that, right now, she might be stronger than he was.
Sighing, he took a seat and started dumping his looted items onto the little table. But instead of going through them, he decided to start with cleaning the sword.
It wasn't right to let blood dry on the weapon.
For the next hour, he worked on it.
Polishing and sharpening the long blade.
The werewolf who'd owned it hadn't really looked after it. Which was expected. Those dogs weren't civilised.
They were barely better than beasts.
As such, he decided to search for a local weaponsmith in the evening.
But, before that, rest. He scooped up his treasure an dumped it all into the chest. Then lay in the coffin with a weary sigh. He' use a lot of blood energy. And hadn't drunk enough from the shadowed warriors to replenish his losses.
As he closed his eyes, he started to cycle his blood energy.
Working at his heart.
Cleaning his veins.
Widening his heart's chambers and giving a slim trickle of energy to his core.
Things he would do automatically every day before torpor could claim him.
As he drifted into the dark embrace, he thought he heard a noise at the door.
Unfortunately, though he'd promised Harriet he slept light, his body was too weak to resist the unrelenting grip of torpor and he slid into a long deathless sleep.
The door opened.
And a figure entered his room.
Closed the door.
Locked it.
And stood above the coffin.
Watching.
Waiting.