Vale… Is Not a Vampire?

I was completely unprepared, still reeling from my sudden exit into the sun, when Onar called after his daughter. Of course he had to return home right at this time. Of course I had to have this kind of bad luck. I didn’t even bother running after that. Instead, I readied for a confrontation.

Standing up straight I wiped all unwanted emotion from my face, balled my hands into fists, and partially stuffed them in my sleeves to hide my claws. Then I released the iron grip I usually kept on my senses ever so slightly. Blinded by the sun I’d need every edge I could get, and the extra awareness my nose provided was a very potent one.

I tasted the heavy, ozone-laden air to follow Onar’s approach with my nose. His not-quite-yeast scent was enveloped in content obliviousness and the tiredness of a day’s hard work. When the man rounded the corner I looked up at him and waited for his reaction.

At first, there was only confusion apparent in his posture, but after a couple more seconds he recognized me and froze up. Sun-blind as I was, I could only guess at his expression. I didn’t need that guess to judge his reaction. I was certain his bushy eyebrowed, fat-cheeked face was contorted in a startled grimace. After all, the fragrance of his blood hinted ever so vaguely of surprise. The rapid acceleration of his heartbeat indicated shock.

In response to his surprised reaction, I plastered a faint smile on my face and altered my posture accordingly. That smile was for where we’d left off six months ago. That’s how I started this game, by playing the simple traveling hunter, checking up on friends made during a winter flooding. Slowly, as Onar’s shocked silence stretched on, I let a little bit of worry seep into my expression.

“You!” Onar barked, breaking from his stupor. The unspoken accusation was all too present in the tone of his voice.

I pretended to flinch at his aggression, let my smile waver a bit, and turned my slightly worried frown into a wary one. The wariness was there for the anger in his voice and the so far unspoken vampire accusation. I wasn’t even going to try denying that. Shae had told me herself. Any attempt at lying about it would be seen through in an instant. No chance of Shae backing me up. The girl would never lie to her own dad for me.

“Hey?” I murmured, letting a slightly deferential, questioning tone accentuate my worry. “I was merely passing through, thought I might as well drop by, see how everyone was doing.”

“You!” The gruff farmer repeated, still rooted to the spot.

His incredulity and fear hung heavy in the air. That was good. He had not expected me here. I had caught him off balance, was probably further unbalancing him by remaining so casual about everything. That was an advantage I could press.

“Dad! Wai—” Shae burst out of the front door.

“What did you do to my daughter!” Onar bellowed over Shae’s shout. He rushed towards her, wrapping himself around her body protectively. It was nice of him to do so. At this distance, only a couple paces from me, I could actually sort of vaguely see where he was looking at. Being able to read him a little better only served to improve my bluffing.

Shae began protesting, trying to squirm out of her father's suffocatingly protective grasp. From Onar’s behavior, it was increasingly likely that he believed his own vampire accusation. That I could use as well.

“We were preparing dinner?” I replied with the most banal, yet unexpected answer I could. I even made it a question, thus daring him to challenge my statement.

Shae appeared caught off guard by my answer. She stopped pushing her dad away and stared at me. Her dad kept checking her over, gaze constantly switching between Shae and me. It actually gave me an idea. I had to get this conversation moved to either the side of the house or the barn. Maybe even their living quarters would do. While I could go by people's tone of voice, heartbeat, and scent for a little while, I couldn’t see enough in this sun to discern expressions. Very soon now that would become a disadvantage.

“I need you to go inside Shae.” Onar broke the silence and tried to push his daughter towards the door, placing himself between me and her.

“Dad! No! Vale! It’s okay!” Shae no longer appeared to know who she needed to address first.

“Now Shae!” Onar reached for something near the door as he snarled at his daughter. The thing he picked up was long, like a staff, or a rake, maybe even a pitchfork or a broom. He pointed one end of it towards me in a threatening manner.

I restrained myself from holding my hands out in a placating gesture. That wouldn’t have the intended effect without gloves. Instead, I took a cautious step backward.

“Please leave. Just leave us alone?” the farmer pleaded.

That was unexpected. I had planned for him to be aggressive, angry, threatening. I was prepared to deflect accusations. Yet he was pleading. It would be way harder to deny an accusation that was never voiced. So I turned to the girl hesitating at the door. “I’m sorry, Shae. I wish I could stay, but…”

Shifting the conversation to her was a controlled risk. It was something you would do if you were lying. Only I was doing it in direct response to Onar’s actions. He wanted me gone, while Shae was trying to calm him down. Me trailing of that sentence was equally deliberate. Finishing it would mean portraying myself as the victim, another amateur mistake. Now they would fill in the blanks in their own mind.

“Don’t you dare talk to her you monster!” Not-quite-yeast Onar gestured wildly with whatever he was holding.

He was clearly terrified, he tasted terrified. The pleading from earlier was probably his fear speaking. With a bit of luck, his aggressive posturing was merely out of protectiveness for his daughter. I could work with that as well. Changing my plan once more I let the Not-quite-yeast’s aggression wash over me. I inched back to the side of the house step by careful step. Meanwhile, I measured on a new expression, slightly wide-eyed but with a determined slant to my mouth.

Right before I rounded the corner I gave a quick placating gesture with my hands. It was fast and short, then I went back to hiding my fists in my sleeves. The man wouldn’t be able to notice my claws like this. The human eye isn’t very good at spotting details in quick movement, especially at this distance.

One more pitiful “I’m sorry” and I left them. Starting towards the barn I kept my ears trained on the sounds behind me. Even though I was now out of their sight I was still going slow, dragging out my retreat to give the both of them time to relax.

After a solid eight seconds I heard their door open. Using that as my cue I swore under my breath, just loud enough for them to hear it. When I poked my head around the corner again I was faced with a very tense Not-quite-yeast, holding the door open for his daughter.

“Um… Shae… my gloves?” I offered with an innocent smile.

Shae had tucked them in the back of her trousers. She was the least scared of me, and as it was her that had tricked me into taking them off, I was counting on her being the first to adapt to this unexpected question.

“Shae! No!” The Not-quite-yeast reached for his daughter as she ducked underneath his arms. A vague blob came flying at me. Her aim wasn’t perfect. My gloves landed in the dirt a couple of feet in front of me. I crouched down and snatched them off the ground. Just a fraction of a second again and my claws were hidden behind the leather.

“Thanks.” I smiled, got up, hid an almost-stumble behind a quick wave. Then I was gone again. My Not-quite-yeast toy now had one more unexpectedly disarming interaction with me to contend with, and I was no longer leaving behind a pair of gloves with suspicious claw marks on the inside.

A couple of seconds later I popped round the corner once more. “If I run into another hunter I will tell them about the attack, send them your way.” I might have been pushing things with that statement, but I couldn’t help myself.

Aaaah… so fun.

A little too fun. Time to leave.

I rushed over to the barn. Still uncoordinated from the sun’s oppressive heat, the rushing I did wasn’t much more than a stumbling fast-walk. The heavy heat only seemed to grow as the afternoon wore on, and even the wind had died down.

I was glad for the momentary reprieve the barn’s shade gave me. It meant being able to saddle Fern without having to fight for control over my body. Loss of control, that’s exactly what the sun did to me, why it made me so weak and uncoordinated. The Tonaltus based rays of the sun unraveled my very own Metzus energy I needed to animate this body. It had made all of the fine muscle control that had been required for that elaborate ruse with Not-quite-yeast Onar incredibly straining.

Keeping my senses focused on more potential threats sneaking up on me meant it wasn’t the fastest saddle I’d ever done, but it was still plenty fast. Thankfully Fern was used to a quick saddle and scram. This was probably the first time we were running from people instead of monsters though.

I rode Fern out, spurring her on to jump the gate, then turned her towards the center of town and Crockover wood. I edged her into a gallop until we were well past the village, then slowed down to a gentle walk. My goal was distance, I wouldn’t achieve that by riding my horse to death. Only then did I let go of the iron grip I had held on my emotions so far.

Dark clouds covered the sky by the time I had gotten some of the distance I wanted. Birnstead and civilization firmly behind me I fished the raw beet I had been cutting out of my pants pocket. It was fibery, grainy, a little slimy, and tasted like snot mixed with dirt. There wasn’t a lot of human food that was appetizing to me. The beet was close to inedible. It would probably leave me nauseous and constipated for most of the night. But with it eaten, the claw marks I’d left on it were gone as well.