Cloak and Dagger Meetings
“This is the last one, and then I’m cutting you off,” Belzara said as she set a pint of ale down in front of Matilda.
“Whhhhyyyyy,” Matilda whined, slurring as she reached for the pint. She was three sheets to the wind and didn’t know which cup to reach for. Was it the one on the left or the right?
“Because sometimes we don’t always make the wisest choices when we’re drunk off our asses. You will do something you will regret.”
“Gi-gimme a ’xample,” Matilda challenged with a series of hiccups.
“Some unscrupulous bastard might take advantage of your inebriated state, knock you upside your head, and take you.”
Matilda snorted in disbelief. “No one wants me but your brother, and he wouldn’t do that.”
“You are correct. Belzar wouldn’t do anything like that to you, but others might. You have all of your teeth, and you’re untouched. You’re highly desired.”
Matilda instantly sobered and stared at her reflection in the booze of her tankard. Yes, it was true. She had all of her teeth, but she couldn’t say the same for the rest of Belzara’s statement.
“Actually… I think I will call it a night. Thank you again for your hospitality and talking some sense into me.” She dropped her last couple of silver pieces onto the tabletop.
“It’s on the house, Matilda. It’s always on the house for you.”
Matilda furiously shook her head, flinging curls left and right.
“No, it’s not right. I can’t keep taking advantage of your kindness. My poorness is my own issue. I gave too much of myself and put all of my faith in humanity. It was silly of me, but a lesson learned.”
“You know… I think there is a position we might have for you.”
“Truly?” Matilda gasped.
“You may hunt for us. Belzar always returns from his hunts with the most pitiful-looking game. Some days, he arrives empty-handed. It’s a win-win situation for all of us. Room and board will be included, of course.”
“Do you need to clear this with Belzar first?”
“I already did, two pints ago. Do you want the job or not?”
Matilda didn’t even have to think about it. Hunt for food for the tavern or become a vagrant? It was a no-brainer. She’d still hunt vampires on the side, but she’d keep all of her coins this time around.
“In that case, I’ll take a congratulatory pint! Give me that back,” Matilda demanded, reaching for the tankard.
“I had a feeling you would change your mind,” Belzara sang before taking her leave. “I’ll get you another bowl of boar stew to soak up the alcohol.”
“You’re a doll, Belzara. Keep it up, and I’ll make an honest woman out of you,” Matilda teased with a wink.
“Keep dreaming. You couldn’t afford me! You’re a vagabond. No offense,” Belzara loudly relayed, returning to the kitchen.
Matilda scoffed. “Well, damn. Tell me how you really feel.”
“I think she did,” a grave voice rumbled above her.
“It’s impolite to eavesdrop,” Matilda chided, refusing to let her unwelcome guest interfere with her plans to get thoroughly drunk tonight and leave reality for the morning.
“That is a difficult feat considering how incredibly boisterous the two of you were,” the man smoothly answered. Matilda declined to respond and continued sipping on her brew. Seconds ticked by, and the man refused to state his purpose for bothering her newly-found serenity.
“You’re still here. If you stay any longer, I’ll have to start charging you by the minute.”
“You’re an expensive whore.”
“The best ones usually are,” Matilda said, wishing the man would get to the point.
“I’ve heard about you, but… perhaps the stories don’t do you justice. I want to see you in action. And trust me… I’m willing to pay.” Matilda’s eyes widened when he dropped a heavy sack of coins on the table. It wobbled slightly under the weight. “It seems I have your attention now.”
“Barely. You have five minutes,” she replied nonchalantly.
“I’ll need a little more time than that,” he expressed, sliding two gold coins onto the table.
“Since you’ve heard what an expensive whore I am, then surely you know this isn’t enough.”
He wordlessly slid another gold coin in her direction. As much as Matilda wanted to gleefully swipe the coins off the table, she knew a meeting with a cloak-and-dagger character would come with a cost.
“Say your peace and leave me be.”
“I was present for your speech. You’re very passionate about vampire hunting, Tilda.”
“You say my name if we are lifelong friends.”
“Maybe that will be our fate after our… collaboration.”
“Excuse me if I’m not as optimistic as you are. State your purpose. We have no time for pleasantries.”
“You are right.”
“I’m not sure what you’re referring to, but that doesn’t surprise me.”
“The vampires will take over. It may not be today or tomorrow, but it will be soon. The blood donation is a sham. The vampires are just buying their time until the right moment to strike. The humans are nothing more than cattle. King Alesi smirks as he looks down from his castle at his pathetic cattle that ignorantly graze the fields. He’s not only bleeding you all dry physically but financially as well.
Have you all wondered about the very sudden tax hike?
Something big is coming, and he must be sto-”
Matilda lifted a finger to pause the man’s enthusiastic speech while she guzzled the rest of her ale down. She released a heavy sigh, slamming the tankard on the table.
“What is your name, Vampire?”
“It’s dangerous to make such assumptions.”
“Not any more dangerous than treason against your king. What do you want from me, Bloodsucker?”
“I want you to kill King Alesi.”
***
Matilda drummed her nails on the frail tabletop as she glared at the cloaked vampire.
“It has been thirty minutes, and all you’ve done is stare.”
“Your point?” she asked indignantly.
“My point is that you must be seriously considering my offer.”
She sucked her teeth in annoyance before leaning forward in her seat, closing the gap between them. “You take me as some zealous fool, don’t you?”
“Prior to our meeting… yes. I was unimpressed with your martyrdom for your people.”
Matilda snorted. “There’s that word again.”
“Is there another word you prefer me to use? Sacrificial lamb? How about that?”
“You’re in no place to judge, Vampire. I might be a martyr fool, but you are a fucking traitor, and that is why I will be refusing your ‘generous’ offer.”
“Name your price.”
“There isn’t a price that will make me go into business with a traitorous pussy who refuses to get his hands dirty. If you’re willing to turn your back on your king, what would keep you from backstabbing me? Trust me. I prefer my head on my shoulders and my blood in my veins.”
The vampire grew irritated by Matilda’s refusal to accept his proposal.
He’d kill King Alesi himself, but as the surly woman correctly guessed, he didn’t like getting his hands dirty.
He preferred to pull the strings in the background—it was less risky.
He’d admit he thought the enthusiastic slayer would take him up on his offer, no questions asked.
He had heard the whispers through the village of the brazen huntress with the curly hair, a scowl that could send you running in the opposite direction, and archery skills that couldn’t be touched. He sent his informants to bring him back information on the woman with the cursed surname.
Helsing.
He had hoped to kill two birds with one stone: kill King Alesi and have Matilda Helsing die in his proposed suicide mission.
If he had a soul, her smugness would irk it.
Even then, as he stared at her from across the table, he could barely hold himself back from draining her dry.
It wasn’t just her attitude that was triggering; it was her scent.
Some were wine connoisseurs, but he prided himself as a blood aficionado, often seeking new blood to add to his collection.
He couldn’t describe the scent of her blood if you’d asked him.
It smelled like a comforting embrace between two lovers in front of a fire on a wintry night.
His thoughts grew increasingly morbid the longer he sat before the arrogant beauty.
He’d drain every last drop of blood—slowly so that she could feel her life force leave her body and her wretched soul slip into the afterlife.
However, it would benefit him exponentially if he kept her as a blood-enslaved person.
“My name is Gregorio.”
“You insult my intelligence,” she said, laughing as she stood from the table.
“How so?”
“Gregorio isn’t your true name, and I refuse to be anyone’s loose end. May fortune favor you.”
For extra flair, Matilda ensured her cloak dramatically billowed behind her as she left the nefarious vamp.
“Five thousand gold pieces,” he called after her. She stopped in her tracks.
“I’m not for sale,” Matilda said breathlessly. The words barely escaped her when the vampire was in her ear.
“Everyone has a price,” he whispered before floating out of the tavern. Matilda was still cemented in place when Belzara announced her presence.
“Hmph! I guess you won’t remain untouched for much longer,” she said judgmentally, breaking Matilda out of her daze.
“Belzara, you’re right. I won’t remain untouched for long. Not after we share a bed tonight.”
“You are a dastardly woman,” Belzara sneered before leaving to rescue one of their tavern maidens from a group of rowdy and handsy minotaurs.
“I try my best,” Matilda mumbled to herself, pulling her hood over her mass of curls.
She squinted her eyes against the wintry mix that whipped through the air.
“The winter will be harsh this year,” she announced upon entering the stables.
Upset by her tardiness, Obsidian loudly neighed, snorted through his nose, and kicked up some of the hay that littered the ground.
“Surely, you cannot be upset. I’m only a little late,” she whined, retrieving a few sugar cubes from her pocket.
She smirked once the menacing beast calmed.
“That’s what I thought,” she whispered, allowing her trusted partner to lap the cubes from her palm.
“Listen closely. Some developments have come up regarding our vagrancy. The tavern now employs me as their hunter; room and board included. You know what that means, right? No more baths in freezing rivers, no more sleeping on the rocky ground, no more sleeping with one eye open, and boar soup. Please, please, contain yourself, Obsidian.”
She giggled to herself as she brushed his shiny black coat. He nudged her with his head, signifying he wanted another treat.
“It wouldn’t hurt you to say please,” Matilda huffed before locating her saddle bag that hung on the hook in his stall.
She reached into the bag without looking and frowned in confusion.
“What the hell?” she whispered when her fingertips grazed a leather pouch.
She clutched the pack and whipped it out.
Her shaky fingers untied the bag, revealing a mass of gold pieces and a note.
Matilda,
Forgive me. I failed to pay you for your time. There is more to come. I will be seeing you soon.
- Gregorio
Matilda poured the currency into her open palm and stopped counting after thirty gold pieces. For the briefest moment, she considered his offer. She could restart her life with the money. Better yet, she could rebuild.
“Forget it, Tilda. Nothing in life is free,” she chastised herself before returning the coins to the pouch.