Di's Hideout

"I'll just leave you to die now, shall I? I've still got her to take care of, back in the temple."

Connan spat at him, head swimming.

Dragging himself to his feet, he threw himself at the vampire, dagger raised.

Daemon turned and instinctively elbowed him in the gut. A moment later he turned and ran up the stairs, ignoring the dagger in his thigh.

Di appeared at the top of the stairs, a broken chain hanging down from a collar at her neck. Paler than usual, barely standing; but standing nonetheless, with her sword pointed at him.

"Did you think..." she said, "I would just... die like that?"

The elbow aggravated the wound. Connan fell to the floor.

"FUCK! Goddamned coward, don't you fucking run from me... oh Christ..." Blood was everywhere- everywhere. The cut to the stomach was critical, and because of the internal bleeding, it was the ticket for the boatman.

Eyes closing, his dead gangmate's voice rang in his ears - a boy who had been incredibly resilient, surviving fight after fight, and explaining that not helping a dying man was as good as murdering him yourself; especially if you were the one dying. Connan had laughed and told the kid he'd get himself killed one day, and so he had...

...but he was right. Dying might be no sin, but suicide was. This would be as good as.

Opening his eyes, he was thankful the fight had occurred in what was as good as a hospital. He would fix himself.

"I had hoped, but that is not the same as expecting; and in this state you should die much more easily," he said with a grin, jumping and striking at her with his sword.

She blocked it with her own and kicked him in the stomach.

Daemon flew backwards through the air from the impact into a wall. He pulled himself out of it and glanced at Connan; what could he possibly be worth to her? He was not the concern now; she had been freed of the mental cage.

Finding the medkit, he took out a green needle, blood pouring down his chin. Ramming it into his neck, he injected it all.

"AHH FUCK ME!! Argh..." His breathing slowed, and was easier. Looking down, he traced the cut, as he heard a fight begin up stairs. He had to stop the bleeding and prevent infection. Taking a bottle of antipyretic, he poured it into the open slice, swearing. Then, from a box of matches in the kit, he lit one and sealed the wound, the cursing becoming a cry of agony. Burning one's own wounds closed, unmedicated, was never pleasant.

Di could hear the sounds as she followed Daemon.

She glanced at Connan before turning her attention back to Daemon.

"Daemon-san, did you think you could keep the secrets hidden forever? Oh yes, I have been shown the secrets-I have remembered!"

She lunged for him, ignoring her weakness, ignoring the smell of blood; only the thought of her hatred filled her mind.

He blocked and kicked out one of her kneecaps.

"You can't challenge me Di-not in your current state, not at your best. You just aren't good enough."

"You forget why you chose me in the first place, Daemon-san," she said quietly, "I can remind you now."

She drew something in the air with her sword; an ancient Elvish symbol.

Daemon burst into flames as she watched-perfect.

Connan had gone through half a dozen matches by the time the stomach wound and the cut from waist to shoulder were sealed. At least now he wasn't bleeding much - he'd regenerate enough blood for the wounds that were still open to not be a problem.

Taking a sheet off the bed, he tore it into strips and bandaged the wounds he could, pausing now and again from the effort.

Daemon yelped.

Damn her and her Elvish trait!

Still flaming he hurled his sword at her and rushed up the stairs and out into the streets of the old city.

She was knocked backwards as the sword dug into her shoulder; she gasped as she pulled it out, watching her blood pour onto the ground. Slowly she staggered towards the freezer where she kept the blood.

Three steps away, she collapsed. She had gone a little bit too far with that spell. She crawled the rest of the way and pulled out a pack of blood, drinking it in a few seconds. She took a few deep breaths and leaned against the freezer.

She looked up at Connan.

"Sorry... about... that fucker."

"What is it with vampires and not killing me?" He muttered, more to himself than her.

"Who is he, and why did he attack me?"

"I guess it can't hurt to tell you."

She sighed.

"Daemon; third in charge of, well, the vampire equivalent to a mafia. Some time ago they erased my memories and turned me; I worked for them until I remembered enough to hate them. But Daemon managed to wipe my memories of him, and put in place only a feeling of familiarity. He 'saved' me from them. 'Trained' me to fight against them. The entire time he was using me as an extension of theirs and I didn't remember enough to know about it."

She stood up.

"He'll be back for more soon enough. If he doesn't send the others."

"Joy."

Connan sat back against the bed, and rested his head. Closing his eyes, he muttered "How many times will it take for them to kill me, honestly."

"They won't get a chance," she said, picking up the swords, "because I know how to destroy them better than they think."

She kicked down a wall and revealed a huge armory; dozens upon dozens of weapons on various shelves and in display cases.

"And I've got all the right weapons to do it with."

"Twice you've given me information I don't need. Why do I care if you're going to kill them? Oh wait, I don't."

He didn't even open his eyes.

"Black Blood."

His eyes shot open. Apart from that, he didn't move.

Voice quiet, deadly, vulnerable and drenched in pain, he spoke.

"Tell me."

She shook her head.

"I don't remember much. Only things I heard. I think it was just before I left-my memories of Daemon are foggiest then."

She closed her eyes.

"I remember this: the leader told Daemon to slaughter them without their leader. Take them unawares, unorganized. And that... is all I know of Black Blood."

Connan snapped back "And why do you think this would matter to me?" His voice cracked, anguish rising "Why should anything matter, anything at all?"

"Because," she said, "I can help you pay off the blood debt."