Cameo and the Vampire (15 page)

"Well, well, well ...."

Cameo turned to the sound of a voice directly beside her.

There was a pair of eyes glittering in the darkness.

"Jules," she whispered.

Now she could see the whites of his teeth as he smiled, apparently amused by this group that she was walking with.

"What's this all about?"

"You don't know?" Cameo felt herself relax a little.

"No. What do you mean?"

"You haven't heard from the Master?" she asked quietly.

His response wasn't immediate; perhaps he was studying the people marching south beside her, but she couldn't be certain. "Why?" His voice sounded strained. "Have you done something?"

She met his eyes in acknowledgement. She half expected him to run away, but where could he go?

"What happened?"

"If he hasn't commanded you, then perhaps it will pass."

"That's likely."

"Yes, he's always been a forgiving soul."

"Who is this?!" Gibson shined a lamp in Jules' face.

Jules moved a few feet out of the lamplight before anyone saw him. It seemed to the soldier that Jules has simply disappeared.

"You know perfectly well that I am here," Cameo grimaced in the light.

"No, no. I saw someone else as well. I heard a man's voice."

She brushed the hand holding the lamp away from her. "There's no one here."

"Unlike these priests, I don't care for your input."

Cameo smashed the lamp. "Then let's be done with pleasantries."

He drew his pistol.

"You want me to kill you right here?"

"You're a monster, and you're wanted for the murder of King Belfour." He turned toward Opal, or at least the direction that he'd last seen him. It was too dark now to make out faces. "Both of you."

"Gibson." Carrington was forcing the gun down.

"Hate to burst your bubble, Reynard, but you're not going to kill me with that."

His anger re-ignited, "Well, let's just find out!"

"Please stop it," Kyrian muttered wearily. He, Caith, and Sage had all been lightly healed but needed hours of sleep to regain their strength.

"Who was that man?! Was it that vampire?"

"What ... man?" Black Opal's voice alone let the others know that he was present.

"Haffef?" she asked. "No. And if he were here, he wouldn't be talking to me; he'd just be killing everyone."

"Except for you." Gibson scoffed. "He put you here. He let you get into the field to pull us out, didn't he? There must be some reason, some, ulterior motive...."

Cameo was silent for a moment. This had actually been her same thought, but she had no idea why.

"How much farther is it?" Opal interrupted, apparently not realizing this was an intense moment between Cameo and the lieutenant. "My feet are killing me."

"Shut up!"

"We're nearly there," Cameo said, taking hold of the dandy's upper arm and pulling him forward. "I'd like to get there so most of us can get into the safety of that shrine."

Everyone began to press forward again, in utter darkness now.

Gibson held fast to his pistol as he grudgingly followed behind the healers. He had no idea that Jules was directly behind him, even though he glanced back fearfully every now and again.

As they continued on for a few more minutes, they began to see a flame in the distance, and then more flames. The complete outline of a small town came into view.

"You go on, Opal," Cameo hissed.

"What do you mean?"

She turned back toward the tiny hamlet of a town. There were guards standing in the road with torches in their hands.

"They're looking for a vampire right now, what with all the farmers who have been killed in this area lately. They'll be scrutinizing the face of everyone walking into Ponth. I will be stopped for certain."

"They'll recognize me."

"You'll be all right for now. You might be some scoundrel, but you aren't undead."

"Please don't go."

"Just slide back in with Kyrian. I'll come back in the morning."

He sighed. The guards had seen them approaching and had drawn their swords. When he looked back, she was gone.

"Hold up! Who is it? Do we know you?"

Gibson pushed his way to the front instantly. "Lieutenant Gibson Reynard. I'm here with some of the healers from the shrine in Hangingford, and two prisoners, Cameo and Black Opal."

Opal startled. He nearly bolted, but Kyrian held him in place gently.

"We'll work this out," the lad's voice was soothing.

"I'm sorry to be a burden," Opal breathed.

"
You
aren't a burden."

The guards stared over at Black Opal, curious to look upon the face of one who had killed a king.

"Cameo?" Gibson searched for her. "Where is she?!" He grabbed Opal roughly by one lapel, "Where is she?"

"If I knew, you would be the last person I'd tell."

Gibson smacked him in the mouth, splitting his lip.

Kyrian put himself between them. "I've seen enough violence for one day. Haven't you?"

"Stupid boy," he muttered and then turned back to the guard who looked to be nothing more than a farmer himself. "Clap this man in irons and throw him in a cell."

The guard scratched behind one ear. "We don't have a jail here, my lord."

"Well then, the nearest building, and a guard to watch him, man."

"All right then. The shrine is open, and with you here I expect that he'll have a close eye on him."

"The shrine?!"

"Thank you," Caith said, moving forward. "That's exactly where we were headed."

"What have you young people been up to?"

"Getting beaten up by zombies," Carrington grumbled as he moved toward the smallish shrine just up ahead.

* * * * *

Cameo was watching the scene enfolding in Ponth. Not much of a town, really; nothing more than a shrine, a stable, a public well, and some other, larger building, possibly a coach stop. The rest of the group would be bedding down for the night in a warm shrine, while she'd be ... sleeping outside somewhere, like an old cat. She looked around. She stood at the edge of the forest. In the snow, in a dark forest where Haffef could find her easily. But she just couldn't bring herself to go nearer to that shrine. It was uncomfortable just to look at it. She couldn't imagine what it would be like to enter.

"Hello, Cameo," came a voice from the darkness.

Cameo spun around, sword in hand, but she stopped short when she saw Jules standing unarmed before her. "So this is where you've gone to."

"Yes," he grinned.

"What are you doing out here?"

"Contemplating Gibson's murder."

She slid the sword back into its hilt. "I was thinking the same thing."

He tossed his hair out of his eyes. "Well, look what I can do."

She watched as he leapt up onto the back of the larger building and scaled it easily, then looked down at her, smiling, and motioned for her to follow him up.

Although somewhat doubtful as to his motives, she didn't expect to find Haffef up there, so she followed him. Faster than he was, she was on top of the slightly pitched roof within two leaps.

Jules was standing on top with a sardonic smile playing on his lips.

"Is this something you were planning to write home to Haffef about?"

"Haffef? No." He ran across the roof and back down the other side of the building.

She watched him sprint away, and then come back again. He was racing back and forth, darting around the tree line just behind the large coach stop.

Cameo leapt from the top of the building and landed without injury in the snow below. That was new. Almost every time that she had dropped from a great height before, she'd had to walk off a broken bone or a sprain. Now, nothing. She was whole.

"We really shouldn't attract the attention of the people guarding the shrine," she said aloud, but to no one really; Jules was most likely out of earshot.

"They'll never see us." His voice was ragged, and suddenly he was there again, right beside her. He seemed amused, enjoying his new strength, testing his new abilities.

She turned to look at him, and he took her hand.

"C'mon, let's go see what's around here."

"We know what's around here. Haffef and his zombie hoard. Are you thinking of running away?"

His expression darkened, "No. I know I can't get away from him."

"I can't leave Opal and Kyrian in harm's way."

"They're in a shrine, in case you hadn't noticed.
We
are in far more danger from the
Master
. You especially."

She waved away the idea and began to walk toward the forest, absently.

"Let's not talk about him."

"Hard not to, isn't it? He's the reason you're here."

"And Opal is the reason you're here." Jules was in front of her. "Did you want to talk about him?"

"Not particularly."

This comment brought a smile to his face once more.

"Do I amuse you, Jules?"

He continued to smile.

He smelled good, like fresh death and pine trees. She found that scent rather intoxicating, and she remembered the taste of his blood ....

"I want to drink your blood," she stated.

His smile drooped. "I'm not bleeding."

"I know that."

He glanced down at his torn leather shirt, a pained expression creeping its way across his face. "Will you be able to stop?"

"I don't know." She took a step away from him. "It's a bad idea."

"It wouldn't matter much anyhow," he shrugged and cut into his forearm without hesitation, gasping at the sudden pain of it.

She spun around; the scent of his blood woke her completely and drew her closer toward him. She pulled her dagger.

He backed up until he was against a tree, holding out his arm for her to drink from, "It's my blood you want."

Cameo pushed up against his body, running her hands over his chest. "Not entirely."

His breath came fast. She could hear his heart pounding.

Then she cut him. One quick puncture into the side of his throat.

Jules cried out, but she forced her mouth against his.

He tumbled to the ground, grabbing for his throat, trying to staunch the wound. "You're ... you're going to kill me?" He wasn't exactly angry, mostly confused ... and almost hopeful.

She kissed the wound tenderly and then she latched on with her still-human teeth, roughly drinking in his blood, oblivious to the pain she may be inflicting upon him, or to his body squirming beneath hers ....

A few moments of pure bliss ... and then the wound began to heal. She reached for her dagger once more, but Jules had it now.

"Can I drink your blood now?" he hissed, holding the dagger away from her.

"You're weak," she mocked, wiping his blood from her mouth.

"Don't tempt me."

She smiled. "You're going to stab me now?"

"Fair is fair."

"You want to drink my blood?"

He looked intensely into her eyes, tossed the dagger away, and with leather creaking forced her to the snow beneath him.

Cameo fell back, her head hitting the ground as he moved over her. "Oh, I see."

"Do you?"

"I suspect you still think you're strong enough to throw me around. You, with your recent loss of blood—"

"And you with your new blood-drinking habit?" he supplied.

She looked up at him. "With Edel's bite, I'm stronger than you are now."

He wrestled her wrists down into the snow. "Is that so?"

Cameo smirked. "Yes."

Jules' face was inches from her own, his long, dark hair draped over her shoulders. He grinned at her. "Prove it."

With a bored expression on her face, she made to break free of his grasp, but he held her down, with some effort on his part.

There was that annoying amused expression on his face.

Frustrated, she kicked out and rolled him over, but he clung to her arms and, outweighing her physically, flipped her over onto her back again.

Jules chuckled. "I thought you were stronger now."

"I am stronger," she said angrily, trying to simply free herself from his grip on her wrists now.

His smile faded, and he released her.

"I'm stronger."

"No, you aren't." Jules' voice was sober, almost sad.

"You thought I'd be a match for Haffef?"

His eyes met hers in acknowledgement.

"It will be all right. There are two of us," she lied. Actually, she did not really think everything would be
all right.
Besides this fact, ever since she had gotten so close to Haffef's house, she had begun to reconsider the promise she'd made to Jules, to go along with him to meet with Haffef, when he called on Jules next.

"Right." The tone of his voice seemed to express her exact thoughts.

He hadn't moved, though. He was still lying on top of her, weighing her down. His eyes were locked on hers, and for some reason she hadn't crawled away either.

"Why don't you let me up?"

"Heh," he smirked, his lips brushing against hers. "No, I don't think so."

There was a sound of snow
crunching
nearby. The two of them looked up suddenly, Cameo watching from an inverted angle.

It was the form of a man just a few feet away, standing at the edge of the forest.

"Gibson," they whispered delightedly in unison as they got to their feet.

* * * * *

Haffef stood over the tiny white coffin that he had prepared for Ivy's bones. She was so small, so young ... only fourteen when the lords of Shandow had come to visit with friends in nearby Lockenwood. They'd brought that stupid Gwendolyn to wait on them during their hunting party, and she had invited Ivy to come with them, work with them. He had no idea why she had accepted. They were to be married, and she didn't need the money—he gave her plenty of money—it had to be because of Gwen.

"Gwen ..." he said aloud and then began to gather up the tools he'd need.

Because of her, Ivy had died. She never should've been there in the first place. She did it because her sister couldn't manage to serve lunch to a few royals on her own.

"Stupid, pointless wretch," he muttered, rummaging through a shelf, pulling down several beakers and a pair of rusty pruning shears. "Lucky I bothered to keep her alive all these years."