The Innocent

The last day of Gort, Village Woodhaven: 9pm

"I know she looks innocent. And sweet. And helpless. But she'll breed the Velvet Nocturne same as all the other scum we're hunting, and don't you forget it." He glanced to his compatriot, his trainee, then down at the pale, fragile looking little girl at his feet. "Sorry honey, it's nothing personal; just doing my job. You got the Mark, you gotta die." He thumbed the custom trigger on his crossbow, and the silver-plated bolt flew straight into the girl's eye with a sickening noise. Her blood spilled onto the cobbled road and ate through the stone. He and his companion wisely backed away as the foul-smelling liquid spread and ignited, burning the corpse and scorching the building behind it. A mild burnt garlic smell wafted upward on the warm autumn drafts as he turned to the young woman watching.

"Cleanup crew'll get her before sunlight. No one will see- that. She makes three for tonight; I think you've had enough. Come on, kid, I'll buy you supper at the pub." Draping his arm around his student's shoulders he dragged her away. He felt sorry for the kid. It wasn't really her choice she was now his subordinate, after all. Barely eighteen, she'd been married to her arranged fiancé for all of five hours when he and another Hunter busted her door in. He had dragged her off and inspected her for the Mark. She was lucky; she didn't have it. Her new husband- well, she was also lucky she hadn't seen what happened to him. Hunter Rickman wasn't as neat or as nice. He had mutilated the man with those twin silver daggers of his and then burned the house down "to avoid contagion".

Shaking his head free of the memories that gripped him, he noticed she'd stopped and he'd kept going a couple feet. "Hunter Alexander...? Harry's Swan is a street back." He looked over behind him and gave her a sheepish half smile.

"So it is, Squirt."

"I wish you'd call me Magdalena. Or Maggie. Or Lena. Anything but 'squirt' or 'kid'! I am old enough to marry, you know." She did her best to flounce indignantly through the door. The illusion was spoiled when she tripped over the slightly raised wooden floor and had to catch herself on his outstretched arm.

"How about an accord?" he proposed. "I call you by your name when you can walk in here without tripping ... deal?" She looked let down. He didn't care. She was a temporary, a possible candidate for the plague, and she had to be watched. How he got stuck with her he didn't know and he didn't particularly care. He knew she fell every time they went to Harry's, so he'd never have to try and remember her name. She glared at him, but her chocolate brown eyes were far too warm-toned in color for him to feel any real venom behind the daggers she shot at him.

"Fine." She flounced to his- their- usual table in a manner that made him almost laugh out loud. She was already annoyed, though, and the way she was walking meant she was trying to be dignified to get over her embarrassment at nearly falling. He motioned to the innkeeper, who held up two fingers. Nodding he went to sit beside his charge.

"Usual tonight, kid." When she made a face he said, "You should learn to like mutton since you'll be eating it enough while you're with me." Inwardly he groaned... women. Why'd they always have to be so bloody picky?

"So... Why do we use silver? Why not iron, it's cheaper to get and stronger too." Oh God, she's getting curious. That's another thing with women... Too damned nosy, he thought. Out loud he said, "It's because iron won't cause the cleansing fire, and the contagion will spread. We have to control the virus or the Velvet Nocturne would spread like wildfire, and then those damned leeches would be popping up everywhere we looked."

"How does it spread? I'm fine, and I used to see my fiancé every day, and we were in close quarters for hours before you came." She gulped back a few tears- he noticed she was getting better at that as time passed.

"Yeah, but you didn't exchange blood or bodily fluids. It's a type of venereal disease. The virus is found in bodily fluids. It gets inside and re-orders your DNA. I dunno how it keeps the host from exploding, what with us humans needing to breathe oxygen and all, but they produce bacteria that give off acetylene gas which bonds with the host's blood. That's why we use silver weapons. They poke holes that allow extra oxygen in and the silver acts as an igniter for the acetylene. Then they go up. Depending on how old they are, they'll burn fast or slow. The older ones are fun- like fireworks. They go up in a fireball and sparks- the virus has been in longer, produced more bacteria that in turn make more acetylene... walking bombs, really."

She had blushed heavily during the mention of how one would contract the disease. He wondered momentarily if it was his description or the obvious affirmation of her virginity that caused the blush. She's actually rather beautiful like that... Don't find many pretty virgins nowadays, with all the pretty girls getting married early... He shook the trailing thought away and downed his ale in one gulp. When the food arrived he was too busy gulping it down to answer any more questions, and on the walk back to their room at the Balmly Inn the girl was silent.

Samhain Eve, Village Breckholm: 8:43am

It was on the third day of Ngetel, the "Eve of Horrors" that she asked the most dangerous question a Hunter's apprentice could ever ask. Just thinking on it made Hunter Alexander shudder... Isn't there a cure, she'd asked him. She was looking up at him now, waiting for an answer.

"You don't need to know. I like you alive." He kissed her hard enough to stun an ox, left her collapsed in a flustered heap on the ground, and stalked off after the leech they'd come to kill. "Come on, Squirt!" he hollered harshly over his shoulder. "This one's been terrorizing the village... Let's GO!"

That kill was the only time he missed a target with his first shot since he graduated from Apprentice to Novitiate.

Samhain Eve, Village Woodhaven: 10:30pm

"Why did you kiss me?" It was the first thing out of her mouth once they got back to their room at the Balmly Inn, and a question he wasn't in the mood to answer. He headed to the bathroom then stopped and turned around.

"If you need to take a piss, do it now. I'm gonna be in the tub a long while, Squirt." His voice sounded raw, even to him. He didn't blame her for looking sullen and shuffling to use the facilities without a word. She didn't come back out, and when he knocked he found the door ajar. He could see her sitting on the edge of the tub, crying.

He sighed, then pushed the door open and went in. She wiped her face hastily and got up, refusing to look at him as she tried to push past him. Oh, no you don't, he thought as he grabbed her by the shoulders and planted himself firmly in front of her. "What's wrong? Are you upset because I kissed you, or are you upset because I won't tell you why I kissed you?" When she shook her head, he shook her by her shoulders. "You ain't getting off that easy. What is it? I can't have my apprentice screwed up in the head when you're supposed to be watching my back!"

She looked up at him, hurt. "What," she demanded, "I'm not supposed to be upset that you almost never answer my questions? That I'll never know if the man I was supposed to spend my life with could have been cured instead of killed? That- that you..." She bit her lip and looked down again, blushing furiously pink in that way that made her so beautiful.

"That I what?" He pulled her face up, but she still wouldn't look him in the eye. Damn it to hell, he thought, and damn that pretty blush of hers, too. "Magdalena, that I what?"

Immediately her face darkened to a rich crimson. "That you kissed me better than he ever did... That I feel like I need something... and..." she whispered and trailed off. Her eyes flitted up to his, and he almost gasped out loud. She must have thought she was angry with him; as a virgin she couldn't possibly understand that the feeling showing in her eyes wasn't rage. It was lust- pure and unbridled passion, locked up and waiting to be released with the right man. He closed his eyes and leaned his head down to hers. Softly he kissed her lips, all the while wondering what the hell he was doing. He was fully 23 years older- enough to make him her father! Suddenly he was aware of her melting into him, and of the moment when shock wore off and her eyes closed. He could feel her eyelashes flutter against his cheeks.

As he drew back he heard a quiet groan of disappointment from her. He opened his eyes to the sight of her standing there, her own cocoa-colored eyes closed, her lips still pursed, her body finely trembling in arousal. He wished he had gotten her stays when she'd asked for them. Her breasts were tempting him through the shirt, her nipples hardened and poking out as if begging him to touch them. He groaned and turned away for the bathtub. Her footsteps came up behind him, and her small hand went between his shoulder blades.

"Hunter Alexander? I... I never had a wedding night..."

"Are you sure you want one now?" It was almost an impossible invitation to resist, but he did it for a few moments more. He wanted her to be absolutely sure this was what she desired. When he turned back to her, she nodded her wordless assent, he started filling the tub. As he returned to her he began to remove her clothing. He ran his hands over her as he undressed her, each of his touches coercing another moan from her lips. Soon she stood fully nude before him and he removed his own clothes. She blushed shyly and looked away, though he caught her fleeting glances over his various scars.

When the tub was filled halfway, he picked her up and set her down in the water. He eased in after her and shut the water off, then started bathing her gently with the soft washcloth. Working his way up her legs, he noticed they were spreading of their own accord. Her breathing was coming faster and her whole body had a rosy glow. He slid his fingers up into the slit between her nether lips. When she jumped and her eyes flew open, he stroked her little nubbin and her stomach lightly, eliciting moans and shudders. He continued to massage her love-button as he moved to gently squeeze her breasts.

When she came he pulled his hand away from her slit and rubbed her thighs. Her hands reached out for him and he obliged willingly. He'd been hard for her for some time, but needed her to be ready. He sunk his shaft into her slowly and watched for any pain. There was none and so he began to stroke lightly in and out of her, watching her virgin blood blend with the water. She was holding him tightly and crying out into his chest when he felt her come again. He groaned in ecstasy and sped his pace. She moaned loudly and laid back, her arms crossed over her chest. He kissed her and swallowed her cries when he started to pump her in earnest. Orgasm hit him without warning, and he gave a final slam as his cock twitched inside her and he grunted into her mouth. She struggled against the hard thrust but he pinned her to keep her still until he collapsed, spent, onto her chest. Moaning quietly still, she showered the top of his head with light kisses.

When he came to his senses she was bathing him with the cooled water and kissing his neck. After she bathed him, he bathed her and they stepped out of the water. She giggled at his manly hands being wrinkled, and he teased her about her delicate toes looking like delicious peach-colored raisins. They collapsed into the bed together, naked, and slept in each other's arms...

To be continued...