Meeting in the Woods #2
The two parried beneath the moonlight, blades clanging loudly in the dead of night, snow clinging to their eyelashes and melting against their heated skin.
They were toe-to-toe, matching each other blow-for-blow.
Had spectators been present, they would’ve struggled deciding which being to bet their meager coins on—the martyr huntress or the avenging hybrid double agent.
He’d heard the rumors, but he was still shocked that Matilda could hold her own against him.
She was small, making her quicker and lighter on her feet, and he could tell from the concentrated look on her face that she was focused on predicting his next move.
He had the terrain to thank for Matilda’s slip-up.
A jutting root caught the heel of her boot, sending her stumbling back into the tree.
She calmly inhaled and exhaled, forcing herself not to breathe too heavily lest the tip of her foe’s handcrafted dagger found itself lodged in her windpipe.
“Your sword work is… immaculate,” he praised.
“You know what they say… practice makes perfect,” Matilda whispered as she attempted to catch her breath.
“That is precisely why you are the perfect hunter for the task.”
Matilda opened her mouth, but he raised a single finger to silence her.
“Do not waste your breath refusing me. You will accept the bounty.”
His calmness unsettled her more than shouting ever could.
“The next time you hear from me, King Alesi had better be dead. Should he still draw breath, my men will reduce that tavern to ash, along with every living soul inside it.”
Matilda’s jaw tightened.
“They are already in position,” he said, allowing the threat to settle between them.
“Kill me, if you wish. It will change nothing. My death will not recall the order, and you will spend what remains of your miserable life wondering how many people burned because you mistook bravery for leverage.”
He stepped closer.
“So you will return to that mangy horse of yours. You will find gold in the saddle and instructions concerning your king. You will follow them precisely. You will tell no one about our arrangement. Not the orc. Not your friends. Not even the gods when you kneel to beg their forgiveness.”
His gaze hardened.
“And when I require you again, Matilda, you will hear from me.”
“Anything else?” Matilda challenged.
“Yes… one more thing.”
She rolled her eyes when he leaned in, mouth gaped, fangs bared in preparation for an uninvited taste.
He had expected to be rewarded with a mouthful of her fragrant blood.
What he hadn’t expected was the sudden shock of steel piercing his abdomen, followed by the vicious smile that slowly spread across her face.
“Y-you do not play fair,” he groaned, clutching at the blade wedged in his intestines.
“Fair?” Matilda said, raising a skeptical brow.
“Pray tell, what is fair about innocent deceased children? What is fair about dangling my livelihood before me? Fair is gone. I’m playing on your level now, dog.
Bark for me, dog.” Matilda grinned when his guttural growl filled the air, overpowering the hoots from the owls above them.
“I said bark,” she spat, twisting the sword in his gut.
He gritted his teeth, refusing her demands.
He shuddered a relieved breath when she yanked the blade from his flesh, splashing his crimson blood on the snow. “Bad puppy,” Matilda tsked, wiping her blade on his shoulder. “Just as I brought you to your knees, I’ll bring King Alesi to his. And when I’m finished with him, I’m coming for you.”
***
“Matilda! Come! Come join me by the hearth for a pint, my future bride!” Belzar exclaimed as soon as she entered the heated tavern. She was relieved when she and Obsidian entered the city center and could see the tavern still intact—no ashes, no burnt flesh—just how she liked it.
“Thank you for the gracious offer, but respectfully, I must decline. I have to be up early for the hunt. I’m afraid Belzara will do away with me if I don’t bring her a boar.”
“Understood.”
“Thank you for your understanding, Belzar,” Matilda replied with a tight smile.
He approached her, feet stomping across the wood floors, kicking up dust while warning any small rodent creatures to stay out of the way or meet a quick death under his footfall.
“You wish to have a final draught with me in your room. Say nothing more of it. I’ll grab my secret wine from the cellar.
It will open you up like a flower on a spring day. ”
“I’m good, Belzar. I prefer my flower to remain… closed… tightly closed,” Matilda reiterated as she backed towards the stairs.
“You will give in one of these days!” Belzar bellowed after her.
“Only in your dreams, Zar!” she shouted back as she ran up the shaky stairs.
She unlocked her bedroom door and was relieved to see her belongings remained untouched.
She closed the door and triple-checked that it was locked before pulling out the bulging package from inside her cloak.
She stared at it in her hands for several seconds before tearing it open and pouring the contents on her bed.
Gold spilled across the thin blanket. It was more coins than Matilda had ever seen.
She dragged her fingers through the pile, watching the pieces tumble over her knuckles.
Gregorio believed he’d bought her obedience, and perhaps that was what irritated her most. He thought a threat and a sack of gold were enough to send the last Helsing crawling toward certain death.
He was wrong.
The gold was certainly a welcome addition, and she wasn’t foolish enough to pretend otherwise. Five thousand pieces could buy land, security, perhaps even a life where she no longer had to drag severed heads across Night Falls just to keep food in her stomach.
But money wasn’t what made her stare at the instructions beside the gold and seriously consider the impossible.
King Luka Alesi.
Matilda had spent her life killing his kind, one vampire at a time.
She collected their heads, accepted her coins, and returned the next night to discover three more had taken their place.
There was no end to them. There never would be, not while vampires ruled Night Falls and humans survived in the scraps of a kingdom that had once belonged to them.
Matilda had an opportunity.
She could strike at the very heart of the infestation.
She could do what generations of hunters before her had failed to accomplish.
Perhaps killing Luka Alesi wouldn’t rid Night Falls of every vampire, but kings were not easily replaced, and kingdoms rarely survived the violent removal of the creature holding the crown.
For the first time, the thought of hunting King Alesi didn’t feel like a death sentence.
It felt like purpose.
Gregorio could keep his threats.
She would kill the Vampire King because Night Falls had belonged to humans once, and when she succeeded, it would belong to them again.