Dhampir - By Barb Hendee & J. C. Hendee Page 0,125

sake, I hope so."

Images from the woman's mind floated into Magiere's.

Teesha. This woman's name was Teesha.

"I think not," Teesha answered calmly. "Why should I when I have a swordsman?"

"I don't see him here," Magiere replied, but banter grew difficult, and she feared losing control.

There was no rage or lust for revenge or madness in Teesha's eyes. Everything she did, everything she said, was calculated. Magiere hesitated, uncertain. This creature's powers were different from Rashed's or Ratboy's.

Chap growled low, and Magiere clung to rational thought. Teesha backed slowly toward the tree line. This vampire was afraid.

"You didn't think I'd be here, did you?" Magiere asked. "Or you would have come prepared." The truth became clear. This was all some plan to remove Leesil and Brenden. "I can kill you, and you can't stop me."

She stepped forward to swing, but the ground where Teesha stood was vacant. A rapidly fleeing voice echoed through the trees.

"You'll have to find me first."

Magiere pursued. Behind her, Chap whined and then began barking loudly. She stopped and turned. Chap remained standing tensely in the clearing, barking at her, and Magiere's thoughts cleared again.

This undead woman was trying to draw her away from the real reason she'd come out here.

Wiping savage thoughts from her mind, Magiere ran back to Chap. "Go, I'll follow."

Chap turned and sprinted off into the forest.

* * *

Still panting, Leesil clutched the broken branch and forced himself to wait, to play the lame bird luring the fox in. If he attacked out of desperation, he would die.

Ratboy's pleasure and confidence were now marred. The blades thrust through his sides couldn't have hurt him much, but he was now openly angry. And that might make him careless again. He looked less human now and more like a filthy, feral creature.

"This is so much fun," he spit out, but there was less laughter in his voice than before. "I might even bring you home—except I have no home. Do you remember Rashed? Tall, dark-haired, dead eyes, big sword? Yes, I bet he'd love a word with you. That warehouse meant a lot to him, you know, more than simply a business. It represented freedom and his ability to exist in your world. Can your small mind understand such ideas?"

Leesil's chest hurt so badly that every breath cost effort, but he regained his composure and tried to appear restful. Pulling himself up, he flopped back to lean against the tree.

"If you'd stop your senseless chatter, we could go and meet him now," Leesil said. "I doubt he'd take this long to kill me."

Any remaining glee on Ratboy's face now faded. "Do you wish death?"

"Anything is better than listening to you."

Leesil tensed, anticipating a rapid lunge. When it came in a blur of movement, he fell back into the past and became a product of his parents' teachings, someone able to set aside pain, someone able to strike a focal point with fluid second nature and the right amount of force. His hand thrust out of its own accord just before Ratboy's hands could reach him.

The sharp, jagged end of the branch burrowed into the center of Ratboy's chest before either of them could grasp what had happened. A small spray of warm, black-red blood spattered Leesil's jaw and ear as he tried to roll out of the way.

Ratboy screamed in shock and what sounded like fear. The undead stumbled back, wildly clawing at the branch in his chest.

"Leesil! Where are you?"

Those words had come from out of the forest, not from the beggar boy's gaping mouth.

Magiere was somewhere in the trees. Relief flooded Leesil's mouth like water, but he found shouting impossible.

"Here," he tried to call. "I'm here."

One of Ratboy's hands found its way around the branch, and he pulled it out. But he behaved nothing like he had when he'd pulled a crossbow quarrel from his body. He was choking, and blood poured, rather than leaked, from his body. He alternately gagged and whimpered, pressing both hands over the hole in his chest.

"I hit your heart, didn't I?" Leesil managed to whisper. "I didn't pierce it completely, but I hit it. What happens when you bleed out? Will you fall limp, too weak to move, and lie in fear till the sun rises?"

Ratboy gargled spitting sounds and stared at him in panic. Approaching footsteps could be heard, and Chap's growls. The undead made a limping run for the trees away from the approaching sounds.

Ratboy disappeared through one side of the clearing as Chap burst through