Vampire Hunter D Fan Fiction ❯ Innocent Souls ❯ The Vile Village and Temptation Blooming ( Chapter 5 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Disclaimer:Vampire Hunter D is the property of its creator, Hideuki Kikuchi. I do not own D or any of the characters related to the novel series.

Innocent Souls

Chapter Five: The VileVillage and Temptation Blooming

By: Elf

Dawn of the Dead was one of the most pragmatic Fey that Bronach had met, and one of the most fun. She was mostly human, but her elfin blood ran strong through her veins and marked her through her unique magical talent and her long pointed ears. Ears that dripped with steel studs and rings enough to make Bronach cringe and hold her own tapered ears protectively.

Dawn stood a whole head shorter than Bronach, and was positively dwarfed by D. However, that didn't faze the elf much. In fact, she strode into Blackmoure's castle, tossed her long platinum blond hair and asked where the hell Bronach was and muttered that this had better be good.

“Well, I need your help,” Bronach said to the elf.

Dawn rolled her large silver eyes and snorted, “Well yeah. I mean, it's not everyday that a huge fucking crow pecks at my window and starts talking to me in the voice that could only belong to one person.”

“That's a hard spell to rig up,” Bronach snorted.

Dawn retorted, “Well, yeah, if you haven't gotten laid.”

Bronach glared. Dawn grinned impishly and stretched, causing her shirt to rise and show off the black dragon tattooed around her pierced navel. “Yeah, I know the whole virgin shtick is part of your oh so great reputation that makes lesser fey wet their knickers when you come a-calling, Bron, but you need to so get over that. It increases your magical ability too,” Dawn suggested.

Bronach sighed and shook her head. Dawn was the paramour of Lucifer the Null, the bastard son of Lady Noreen, High Chamberlain of the Joint Council and Prime Minister of the Unseelie Council, and a Barbaroi incubus warrior. Noreen was one of the main ones responsible for sending Bronach out if needed, even though Noreen was fully capable of doing so herself.

“Who is she?” D whispered softly as he watched as Dawn looked around the castle.

Bronach answered, “Dawn of the Dead, elfin paramour to Lucifer the Null.”

“Why is her title `of the Dead'?” D asked as Dawn made her way to the infirmary.

Bronach grinned and answered, “Because she is a true necromancer.”

“The Nobles kill every necromancer they hear about,” D replied, “Faerie or not.”

Bronach leaned against the archway and said, “She's not Faerie, she is an elf. And they tried. They killed her human mother in front of her. Dawn's tenacious and back her into a corner and she'll fight like a cat to win.”

“Holy shit! Their souls, they're gone!” Dawn cried from the infirmary.

Bronach grinned at D before sweeping past him to talk to her friend. She reached the infirmary to find Dawn swinging a moonstone pendulum over the children. At least trying to and failing because the children had no spiritual energy to make the stone spin. Save for Cedric, even soulless he had physical power to make it spin and sway.

“This kid's not human,” Dawn said as she peered at the boy.

D supplied, “His father was Lord Blackmoure and his mother was a vampire huntress.”

“Now there's a tortured romance for you,” Dawn snorted as she put the pendent back into her jeans' pocket.

Bronach asked, “Will you protect the children while we go hunt the rogue Faerie.”

“What's the bum fuck's name?” Dawn asked as she peered at the little girl beside Cedric.

D answered, “Ciaran.”

Dawn's head shot up and her eyes widened. She froze as she looked at D. Then she looked at Bronach. She asked, “He didn't say Ciaran did he?”

“Aye, he did,” Bronach confirmed, nodding her head.

Dawn walked away from the children, wringing her tiny hands together. She shook her head and looked owlishly at Bronach. She said, “Don't go, Bron. Don't go after him, please. Lucifer and Noreen would skin me if I let you take on Ciaran alone.”

“Why?” D asked.

Dawn glared at D and snapped, “This isn't like hunting a vampire. This is . . . He has imps and goblins and even trolls loyal to him, Bron. Not only that, his shadow weaving abilities make Noreen's look like utter crap. And he's insane, going on and on about the Wild Hunt when they haven't been seen for years. Not to mention he's obviously managed to crack the spell on how to separate a soul from a body and keep the soul whole and to him without it going to the Ether. Not even I can manage that sort of mojo, and I'm a necromancer.”

D's dark eyes met Bronach's. Obviously, he was unafraid. Or he was just so damned brave that he didn't care. Or that stupid.

“Thanks, Dawnie, but, will you protect the children?” Bronach prodded gently.

Dawn's nose wrinkled as she asked, “I don't have to change any diapers, do I?”

“No, there's a nurse who does that,” Bronach chuckled.

Dawn looked around and shrugged. She answered, “Sure, why the fuck not? I mean, it's been ages since I've gotten to kick ass. Besides, Ciaran won't be coming back here. He already has what he needs.”

“That's why we're leaving,” D stated, looking at Bronach.

Dawn ran over to Bronach and hugged her. Bronach stroked the young elf's flaxen hair and kissed her on the forehead. “Be careful,” the punky elf whispered.

“What's the fun in that?” Bronach retorted with a wink as she walked over to D, giving the children one last look before they left.

******

D was inspecting Blackmoure's mount. Of course, it was in better shape than his ever was and top of the line. It looked at D with blazing artificial crimson eyes and snorted. It restlessly pawed its hay as D tightened his saddle around it.

In the stall next to his he heard a hauntingly beautiful voice singing softly in Gaelic. He could only translate a few of the words, but the song was soothing, filled with hope and promise. He looked over to see Bronach tending to a black cybernetic horse that was almost the twin of D's own mount, save for the sharp steel points that came out of the horse's head like horns that marked D's mount the mount of a Noble.

He watched as she combed the mount's mane and checked its hooves. She rose back to her feet and continued to sing her song in the horse's ear. The horse turned its head toward her and bent toward her shoulder. She laughed as it proceeded to nibble at her collar before moving towards her braid.

“Off with you now,” she laughed as she gently shoved the horse's face away.

D looked at Bronach and asked, “Are you ready?”

“Aye, lets get this over with,” Bronach answered as she mounted her horse.

D mounted his horse as well and they rode out of the stables. A few of the stable hands were watching them wearily. Bronach placed a black felt hat on her head that shielded her face from the sun and hid her ears. She looked at him with a smile.

He nodded in return as they rode out of the gardens. She leaned forward on her horse and smirked at him. “Race you to the gates,” she challenged with a mischievous glint in her indigo eyes.

D blinked at her and his left palm was vibrating again. He tightened his fist over the reigns and glared at her. “Well, I'd be leery to race me too. I mean, why try when you'll lose anyway, right?” she taunted. Then she snapped her reigns and tapped the horse's sides with her heels.

The horse whinnied loudly before taking off. Its hooves pounded up tiny clouds of coppery dust as she rode, her braid whipping behind her like a golden banner. D's eyes narrowed and he shook his head.

He knew getting the horses worked up at the beginning of this trip would do them no good. Then again, they were riding cybernetic mounts. Top of the line ones none the less. He figured she'd taunt and tease him the entire way if he didn't take up her challenge.

“Can't let her have that now, can you D?” his Left Hand chuckled, as if he was reading D's thoughts. D knew he couldn't, but they were so much a part of one and another that they didn't need to.

D leaned forward, slapped the reigns, and dug his heels into the horse's flanks. The horse took off with its hooves pounding the pathway like thunder. Bronach's braid loomed closer and he could hear her joyous laughing as he caught up with her.

He caught abreast with her and she smiled at him. He rose off the horse and bent forward even more. With less of his weight bearing on its back, the horse took off like a rocket. His feet barely touched the ground as they reached the gate.

The cool air whipped at his face, hair and tugged at his hat. It promised to be a pleasant ride, well, pleasant for traveling on the Frontier. The sun would be setting earlier and earlier each night, proving a blessing for him.

He tilted his head up and sniffed the crisp air. The horse was running so fast he seemed like he was flying. It was odd, this freedom and Bronach's laughter ringing in his ears.

He reached the gate and slowed the horse down.

The air shimmered around them. D stopped his horse as he felt something rush from the ground. It was cool and burning at the same time. It rushed up and he felt an invisible barrier being built around the castle. His stomach churned and his heart thundered.

He felt a warm, slim hand cover his. He turned to see Bronach looking at him reassuringly as she squeezed his hand. He looked back at the castle and narrowed his eyes.

Around the castle, undetectable from human eyes, there was a silvery red haze all around it, like crystal shards. It shimmered and wavered. It radiated coldness. “A ward, a necromancer's ward,” he murmured to himself, suddenly realizing why Bronach asked Dawn to come here.

The elf's ward was a far more potent guard system than the electronics and force shields that most Nobles used. Nothing could get in unless Dawn allowed it. He looked back at Bronach and she grinned.

She stated, “I'm more than a pretty voice you know.”

“Quite,” he said in agreement as he turned toward the rocky desert awaiting them. “We should go,” he added softly.

Bronach nodded and replied, “Before the sun becomes too much a problem.”

He nodded in agreement as he spurred his horse into movement again. Bronach kept up with him easily. In fact, she seemed to be enjoying his brisk pace and for that he was thankful. He could do without a whining maid, but then again, Bronach herself proclaimed that she was no damsel in distress.

And he thanked God for small favors.

******

Saying Batharoy was a cesspit was being kind to the city.

It was large for a frontier city, complete with thick electromagnetic gates that wrapped around the front of the main town itself. In the mountain in the distance a huge black castle was looming in the distance. Loud noise, gunshots and music could be heard the closer one ventured to the town. Cows, horses and sheep were being loud and whining, which was accompanied by the occasional human curse and snap of a whip. The main street was paved with a pinkish stone, but was dotted in bits of manure and an occasional body. There were more saloons and whore houses than stores, and rowdy Hunters raced on the street on horse back or on motorcycles.

D and Bronach approached the city gates.

Suddenly, Bronach pressed her hands to her ears and doubled over in pain. D looked at her. Her glamor began to crack, revealing a sickly glow to her skin, not the radiant one he'd first encountered when he forced her to drop her glamor. In fact, it was like the glow she had when clasped in cold iron.

He nudged his horse closer to her and lifted her hat. Her breath was rapid and tinny, her nostrils made tiny whistling sounds with each inhale. She looked up at her and he bent forward.

“You can't come with me if this is going to be a regular occurrence,” he told her.

Bronach gestured to the gate and whispered, “There's too much iron around. Just let me get past the barrier and I should be all right.”

“Are you sure?” D asked her skeptically.

She nodded weakly. He placed her hat back on her head and asked, “Can you sit up?”

Bronach took a deep breath and reached under her shirt. She tightened her fist around something and rose up. Her glamor slammed back into place, leaving her pale, but other wise normal looking. She closed her eyes and her mouth moved rapidly as her fingers moved under her shirt, right around her throat.

She was chanting in Gaelic, over and over again. “My Lady of the Three. The Lady, the Wolf, and the Crow. The Morrigan, I plead for you to give me strength.”

D watched as the glamor slammed back into place. She sat up and flipped her braid off her shoulder. She squared her shoulders and looked up at the gate. “Caochan! I swear, humans and their nicknacks. If a wee beastie wanted in, they could get in.”

D nodded in agreement as they approached the city gates. He narrowed his eyes and looked up. Sitting in a hidden hollow was someone dressed in head to toe in silvery armor. A pale violet piece of glass made up the visor that gleamed in the shadows of the hovel. The person had a laser rifle trained on them.

“See the man in the combat suit?” D whispered softly.

Bronach nodded with a tiny grin. She replied, “Aye. Wanna see him fall of his post?”

“Not at the moment,” D chided as he watched the man direct his gun toward him.

D looked around to the out post on the top of the gate. A young man dressed in the sensible, protective leather clothing of a rider was looking back at them. He was soon joined by various other men of different shapes and sizes dressed any where between the man in the combat suit and the clothing of the rider. The rider tipped his hat back and squinted.

All he'd be able to see were a tall man and a woman both dressed in black. Bronach's was of a finer material and make than D's. He knew that they'd assume he was working for her. Which was what he wanted.

“Hello down there, what's your business in Batharoy?” the rider shouted down to them.

D looked at Bronach and sharply whispered, “Don't give him one of your arrogant half answers.”

“D, you need to learn to lighten up,” she retorted with that grin of hers, the plump lower lip curving wickedly.

D glared down at her and pushed back a wave of irritation. He said, “Just tell him we'd like to see the mayor and sheriff.”

“We have business with the mayor and sheriff. It's quite important,” Bronach shouted out, her lilting voice ringing.

D looked up at the guards in satisfaction. The rider turned to D and shouted, “Is that true, or do you let your woman do all the talking for you?”

In the corner of his eye he saw Bronach bristle. He saw her hand going toward her axe. He looked up at the rider. He answered, “She is her own person. Now, we need to speak to the sheriff and mayor immediately.”

“Why the hell do you need to?” the leader shouted back. D heard the electrical hum of rifles being cocked and loaded. D lifted his head and stared the young man down.

D answered, “That's not of your concern. Let us in.”

“We don't let fucking half-bastards in our city. So turn back around, dhampire, before we turn you around ourselves,” the man in the combat suit shouted from his post.

D's eyes narrowed. The horse stamped impatiently into the sand and danced back then up again. “Like Dave said, we don't allow fucking half-breeds in our city. Now turn around before we fucking chase your ass out!” the leader snapped.

D was about to tell Bronach that they'd have to find another way in. He was use to this sort of treatment after all. After a thousand or so years, you found other ways to get around it.

However, Bronach dismounted off her horse and tipped her hat back. She strode up to the gates and looked directly up at the leader. The guards were nudging and pointing at her between bewildered chuckles.

“You, Blaigeard, are an ignorant hick. Now, you'll let us in or I'll let us in, and trust me, child, you don't want me to let myself in. It gets rather violent and ends up with you on your arses and bleeding. Not to mention all the violence and fowl language that I don't want to have wee ones seeing and hearing,” Bronach proclaimed with a smirk.

The guards laughed at her. D covered his ears and bowed his head. She took a deep breath and screamed.

The horses reared. The ground shook slightly. Pops, hisses, sizzles, and the sound of glass shattering harmonized with the screech. The guards shouted, cursed, winched and covered their ears. The force field wasn't glowing anymore. She walked right up to the gate, took off her axe, and swung it up.

She brought her axe down in a hard arch. A loud cling sounded and then the gate creaked. It swung open with a push of her hand. Then she tossed her hair, turned back around, and mounted her horse again.

She smiled at D. D sighed, “You shouldn't have done that.”

“Pfffft. Stop worrying,” she chuckled as she trotted right through the gates. Sighing, D spurred his horse into motion. He looked around to see people leaving the streets and heading indoors.

They were soon surrounded by the rider and his guards. D heard a slight electrical hum from behind him. Bronach spun her axe and smiled.

“Kill the dhampire, leave the bitch alive,” the leader hissed.

D simply looked at the men and they skittered back from him. He looked over at Bronach. She smiled at him before looking at the leader. She slid off her horse and said, “Let me handle this, D.”

“Wait, did she say D?” one of the guards asked, a huge hulking man with a purple Mohawk and scroll work etched into his black skin.

The leader swore, “Mother fucker. Men, stand the hell down.”

“Wow, the hillbillies have some sense after all,” Bronach drawled.

D stepped down from his horse and said, “We need to speak with the mayor and sheriff.”

“Well, we don't have either. I'm Sean MacCallaugh,” the leader said as he took his hat off. He had bright, curly red hair, fair skin, and iridescent green eyes.

D nodded and Sean stepped closer. “So, Hunter D, what's so damned important and what the hell is she?”

“The children of your village are in danger from something far worse than what she is, and much more powerful,” D told him, “Is there some place we can talk away from prying eyes?”

“Course. The saloon. I have an office there,” Sean replied with a nod as he turned around, gesturing for them to follow.

******

Sean's “office” was a poker table in the back of a bar where a curvy blonde wrapped dressed in no more than a handkerchief wrapped around him and played with his red curls. He smiled at her and patted her rear. She let off a delighted squeal as she trotted off.

Bronach rolled her eyes and sat down at the table. D was sitting so he could watch the door and the rest of the saloon. Whores were leaning over and pointing at D, smiling and whispering about the lovely hunter behind their fans. She rolled her eyes and looked back at Sean.

Sean asked, “You a mutant?”

“Nae, I'm something that the world thought long gone,” Bronach answered as the blond strumpet returned with a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. One she placed in front of Sean and the other in front of D. D picked up the glass and started to hand it to her.

Bronach snatched the glass out of D's hand and grabbed the whiskey out of the girl's. Sean looked at D and said, “Sorry, we don't cater to blood sucking around here. This is about the strongest we have.”

D's look was as frosty and intense as ever. Bronach saw that one lock of hair fall between his eyes. Her hand itched. He looked back at her, his hat obscuring his face.

She opened the bottle of whiskey and poured herself and Sean a glass. Sean asked, “So, what the hell is going on?” His iridescent green eyes flickered between her and D. She took a drink of whiskey. She preferred absinthe, as did most Fey, but it wasn't bad.

“Have you heard what has happened to Blackston?” D asked.

Sean took a large gulp of his drink and nodded. He answered, “Yeah, kids all struck down by some plague or something. I think Blackmoure's got something to do with it.”

“Blackmoure is dead,” D said.

Sean chuckled as he raised his glass to D. He chortled, “Well, Hunter, I guess you are as good as they say. Killing a leech like Blackmoure is a might impressive thing to do.”

“He didn't kill Blackmoure,” Bronach drawled sardonically.

Sean laughed as he looked at her. He snorted, “Your voice might be impressive and all, but I don't think it'll kill fucking Lord Blackmoure.”

“I didn't kill him either,” Bronach retorted as she took another drink.

Confusion dawned in Sean's glowing green eyes. Bronach looked him over. His hair was too rich a red. His skin too flawless for a natural redhead, not a freckle marking the milky paleness, nor a sunburn scorching it.

Sean asked, “What the hell are you two getting at?”

“The children had their souls extracted from their bodies,” D stated.

Sean's eyes widened and he grew even paler. He stuttered, “I thought those magics were long lost.”

D's dark eyes flickered over towards her. She raised her eyebrow. D looked back at him. He continued, “They are to be offered in a ritual.”

“What the fucking hell stole them?” Sean cried. He clutched the table roughly. Rings of vibration were going through his golden whiskey. Two bright red spots appeared high on his cheeks.

Bronach answered, “An Unseelie Shadow Wielder.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Sean hissed.

D answered, “I'm sure you have heard of the Barbaroi, yes?”

Sean nodded.

D continued, “There are those among their ranks that can control shadows and travel through them, and make traps out of them. While Ciaran can do this, he can also bend shadows into shape and form so they can do damage or bind someone. He sneaks into the child's room, steals the soul, and escapes without a trace.”

“Well, we'll post guards at every house that has a kid,” Sean snapped, “Can't get past all of us.”

Bronach snickered. D looked at her and she shrugged. “What? You know he can,” she sighed and shook her head.

Sean glared and said, “The crew here are bad asses. We hunt any and everything from were-tigers to,” a coy smirk towards D, “dhampires.”

“Well, we didn't say you were overly intelligent,” Bronach drawled sardonically.

The corners of D's lips quirked up ever so slightly. She returned the smile and watched Sean. Sean snorted, “We could have killed the both of you as soon as you crossed the fucking threshold.”

Bronach met D's gaze. Again, his lips turned up ever so slightly. She grinned back at him. “Of course you could, lad,” she retorted as she downed the rest of her whiskey, “But ye've never dealt with the likes of Ciaran before.”

“So, what the hell are you proposing that we do, bitch?” Sean snorted.

D answered, “Hide the children in a place where there is a high iron content. It would render Ciaran's magics and make it harder for him to take them. Risk as much man power as you have to guard the children. We will take care of Ciaran.”

“Sorry, hause, but we've got our own way of doing things around here. We've got an inn, you take your mouthy twit here and get settled in. I'm not getting the people riled up around here just because some half-bloodsucker tells me so, and I don't give a flying fuck who he is,” Sean proclaimed as he stood up from the table. “Now, I've gotta talk to my men about some poison moth men running loose.”

******

“How quaint,” Bronach grumbled beside D as they entered the room. Apparently, the only room they had was a single suite. It was cramped with a low ceiling and heavy wood paneling with a table, two chairs, a vanity, and a huge bed.

“I shall describe this bed as orgy sized,” the blonde grumbled as she sat down on the bed, her bags dropping beside her.

D ignored her and walked over to the table. He sat down and pulled out the various maps from his utility belt. He unrolled them and began to look at them.

His eyes narrowed as he looked the layout of the town over. Due to the heavy force field the town was in the shape of an octagon. Eight sides around a circular center. Right now the field around the main gate was being repaired due to Bronach's impatience.

However, she had trouble getting into the gate.

He drifted his gaze over to where she was sitting on the bed and going through her things. A few golden strands glowed in the sunlight coming from the window and stuck out against the blackness of her clothing. Like a candle in the middle of a darkened room, D thought dryly as he watched her pull a few different sized crystals from her bag.

He recognized them all as various types of quartz, even rare Mountain Blue Quartz that was such a bright blue it almost glowed. For a while it was one of the mainstays of Noble technology before they found out that they couldn't produce it synthetically. The neon blue crystal created by the various pollution and radiation from man's various wars were replaced by easier to manufacture sapphires, rubies, and diamonds.

He asked, “Would Ciaran encounter the same difficulty that you did coming into the city?”

“Nae,” she replied in her native Gaelic with a tiny shake of her head, “He'd travel within the Shadows and will himself into a child's room.”

D sighed, “And be out with the child's soul before anyone knew any better.”

“Well, you fight magic with magic, or heavy iron beams if you have them,” Bronach replied with a grin as she palmed a large piece of greyish-blue quartz. From where D was sitting he noted tiny blue spears littered all through the bottom of the stone. Apparently it was that inclusion that made it the odd blue.

D asked, “What are you planning?”

“What I can do at best is bind him within the city for a short time. Minutes at best. However, if he attacks a child . . .” she clapped her hands together and then snapped her fingers, “Bang, we can know about it and get there posthaste.”

D nodded and replied, “A warding spell with an alarm to it.”

“Aye. However, with what I have the best I can do is find the general vicinity that he's in, bugger it all,” she sighed, rubbing her forehead.

D stood up and walked over to her. He picked up a glittering golden piece of quartz that reminded him of sunlight. He studied it then looked at her.

He asked, “What do you need? More crystals? I think there is an abandoned mine shaft near here.”

“And various herbs and then I need time to sing the bloody spell,” she answered, “Mainly, I need that Changeling brat off my back.”

D nodded and replied, “Lets get started then.”

She smiled, lighting up her face. “You know, this is the most cooperative you've been,” she teased him lightly.

“At least I'm not impatient and handicap a city's main security system,” D retorted lightly.

Bronach moved closer to him. Her indigo eyes searched his face. Then, suddenly, they lit up as her hand reached up and snatched his hat.

She placed his hat firmly on her head and stood up.

D stood up after her and rushed in her way. Irritably, he moved to take his hat back. She simply danced out of his way with a chuckle.

“Not so fast. I need citrine and clear. I'd prefer the citrine, but clear would do in a pinch,” she told him with that damned lower lip curving invitingly.

D snatched his hat back and put it back on his head. He replied, “Fine.” He headed for the door and she darted in front of him this time.

“Not milky. But clear quartz,” she instructed winsomely.

D looked down at her and replied, “Fine.”

Then she bounced on her toes.

Her lips were soft and warm as they lightly pressed into his chin. She smelled like lavender and magic. He could hear the soft thunder of blood rushing through her veins, blood that would be sweeter than any imagined.

Yet all he could focus on was her lower lip.

Delicate hands rested upon his shoulders as a pale face turned towards him. He watched as her tiny tongue swiftly moistened her lips. Then her hand smoothed away a lock of hair from the middle of his forehead.

“That was bothering me for a while,” she confessed.

Indeed, he reasoned dryly as he looked at her. He bent his head forward and her hands moved from his shoulders to grasp his face. Before he could resist, her lips caressed lightly against his.

He returned the kiss ever so gently. His body was tense. What he really wanted to do was shove her against the wall and take all she had to offer, and then some. He wanted to strip her of her glamor and have her wild and herself.

His tongue met no resistance as she parted her mouth to him. In fact, hers darted out eagerly to meet his own. She made a tiny, whimpering cry as his left hand pressed against her lower back to guide her closer to him. She was warm, so very very warm.

She tasted tangy, like oranges and lemons. Fresh and bracing, and so very much herself. His fangs lengthened and throbbed in time with her heart beat. His right hand went up to the high collar of her silk shirt.

All I'd have to do is rip . . .

With a tiny growl he let her lips go. He lifted his head up and took deep breaths. The heat raged through him, wanting to take and to have.

Then, then oddly, he was filled with a strange sense of calm. He heard a soft singing, throaty and seductive. He closed his eyes as he relaxed.

“You know, it is good to lose control once in a while,” Bronach said in a shaky voice, her breath coming in tiny pants as her small breasts heaved against his chest. She was trembling, and not from fear. Maybe a little fear, but somehow he was aware that she wasn't afraid of him.

He traced his right thumb over her lower lip and she shivered. Her eyes closed and her head rested against the wall. So responsive, he thought, not vaguely aware of the last time he'd been with a woman. Hundreds of years ago he reasoned, and never a human.

D looked down at her and managed to say, “We have work to do.”

“Right. Work. Ciaran. The nasty bastard,” Bronach chirped awkwardly, still not moving.

He smiled at her slightly and she beamed. He tucked a few loose strands behind her ear. He said, “Citrine or rock crystal.”

“Right!” she said brightly, nodding eagerly.

He looked down at her and said, “Go cast your spell. I'll find you.”

He started to head for the door. Behind him he heard her softly whisper to herself in Gaelic.

“I will always wait.”

To Be Continued

Author's Notes: Dawn of the Dead has to be the cheesiest name for a necromancer ever in God's green creation. Part of this is because I am a major geek. Hell, I even own a shirt that reads Joss Whedon is My Master Now. (All hail to Joss Whedon!) The other part is that I have a very skewed sense of humor. I have all this seriousness running around with Ciaran stealing children's souls, D, and decided I needed to have something to lighten up the mood somewhat.

I'm also a huge gem geek too. Hence Bronach's pendent and crystals. The Mountain Blue Quartz was based loosely on Siberian Blue Quartz, which is a synthetic quartz that is the color of blue M&Ms. It's gorgeous. One of my favorite pendants is made out of it. So, with how fucked up D's world is then the mineral structure would have changed too slightly.

Or I'm just BSing my way out of this.

Also, be kind and review! Feed the muse. I like comments. Tell me what needs help and tell me what you like.

And I promise there will be porn! Really! Just . . . Bronach and D are sort of stubborn. Which is a GOOD thing I think.

So until later, and I'm reading Vampire Hunter D: Raiser of Gales! Yay, D's a hacker among other things! This amuses greatly.

Also, I'd like to thank Arismal and Psi Yamaneko for their thoughts and views on D.

Hopefully, I'm following the groundwork of the novels while keeping it in my own writing style. So, if you've read the books, tell me what you think. And damn the books are kinky.