I barely have time to grab the hunter's head and bring it to my lips for a sip of still-warm blood… when a massive bear rears up behind me, roaring so fiercely I almost choke on the blood in surprise.
It's not like I'm scared of bears, just to be clear — it's more like when you're really focused on something and your idiot friend jumps you from behind screaming just to startle you.
I mean, why would I ever fear a creature infinitely weaker than me?
He was probably attracted by the dog's growls or the scent of blood, and now this jerk of a bear looks like he wants to steal my prey!
Let me get this straight — I do the dirty work and he wants the spoils? Yeah, screw that.
Honestly, I don't even care about the body — I only want the blood; he can eat the rest for all I care!
Still holding the man's head by the hair, I take a few steps back from the rest of the body, letting the bear know he can dig in all he wants — and that seems to calm him down a bit.
Maybe that whole entrance — roaring like a maniac — was just to intimidate me, in case we ended up fighting over the meal. Or maybe I'm just overthinking it, giving him way too much credit.
What an absurd scene, though — me, sitting on a huge tree root, sipping blood from the hunter's neck like it's soup from a bowl, and just a few steps away, a massive brown bear feasting on the rest of the body.
We almost look like two old buddies having dinner together, yeah, not exactly something you see every day.
And on top of that, when I take a better look, I only now notice that its fur isn't completely brown — there are white patches along its back, vaguely shaped like a stylized skull, kind of like the ones on pirate flags.
Really curious — maybe that's why that hunter bothered going out in the middle of the night to get his hands on it?
I have to admit, though, the arrival of this bear was a real stroke of luck.
It tore that poor guy's body into pieces so small that not even the Monster Slayers would ever suspect he was killed by a vampire.
Well, what can I say — sometimes luck remembers I exist.
This hunting night has been pretty damn fruitful! Too bad there's still an hour before the train to Manhattan arrives!
And what's better after a nice blood feast?
Easy: an ice-cold beer!
After cleaning the blood off my face and hands and tossing away my dirty clothes — replacing them with the spare set I always carry with me — I head toward the only tavern still open in Cold Spring, ready to chug down a big mug of beer.
Luckily, it's pretty empty — just three men, a woman, and a kid who can't be older than five.
«Where the hell did Matt go? We can't wait here all night!» one of the men grumbles, hiccupping from too much alcohol.
«I'm telling you, that idiot probably got lost! That forest is a maze during the day, let alone at night! After bragging all afternoon about his hunting skills, I hope for his sake he doesn't come back without the hide of that white-skull bear — I swear I'll tease him until the day he croaks!» the other man adds, just as drunk if not more.
Oh… don't worry — he won't come back with the bear's skin. Actually, he won't be coming back at all.
But then… the kid tugs at the woman's sleeve.
«Mom, when is Dad coming back? I'm sleepy… I want to go to bed…» he whines, yawning.
«Daddy will be here soon, don't worry,» the woman assures him. «But if he doesn't come back in five minutes, we're going home, okay?»
«No, Mom. I want Dad… I want Dad!» the kid cries. «H-He promised, that on the way home he'd tell me the ending of that story with the wolf and the little pigs, so I'll wait for him before going home!»
«Don't worry, sweetheart. I promise that's the last time that stubborn man goes hunting at night. I swear by the God of Light, if he's not back in five minutes, tomorrow I'm giving him a piece of my mind!»
«N-No, Mom, don't scold Dad. Dad is good!
Dad's gonna come back and we'll go home together,» the child mutters, still smiling.
That smile hits me hard inside, knowing that kid's father will never go home again. And it's all my fault.
No. I can't take this — it's too much. I need to get out of here.
If that child says even one more word, I might actually break, swallowed by these damn feelings of guilt.
Sometimes I really hate being a vampire…