Douglas Niles - Realms of Valor

She nodded once, her blue eyes revealing no trace of softer emotions, and ran lithely to join Frajen.

The gold elf strode to the door, stooping to pick up one of the coat pegs, then heaved the oaken door open with a swift movement.

Instantly Theorn turned to him, indignant fury in his voice. "No one enters-"

"No one leaves," Jander finished smoothly, driving the makeshift stake home through the thick leather armor. "I'm not leaving."

Theorn made a small choking sound. Then, his chest heaving, he managed to bellow a single name. "Cassiar!"

His dying cry mingled with a sonorous chiming, and Jander realized that someone was ringing Mistledale's warning bell. The other Riders would be alerted. Jander only hoped there was enough time to complete the bloody task he had set for himself before they arrived. The elf whirled as Theorn's body fell against the door frame with a heavy thump.

A movement by the bar caught Jander's eye. He jumped, teeth bared, hissing. "It's me," came Frajen's reassuring voice as he climbed out of the trap door and closed it after himself. "Rhynn's taking care of the locals. I'm staying. You might need some help."

"No!" Jander cried. "You don't know what he is. You don't know what he'll-"

"What in the Nine Hells is going on!" shrieked a shrill, nervous voice. Elf and priest looked up to see a very angry Cassiar hastening down the stairs. He had removed his vest, and his open shirt fluttered as he ran. His copper hair was tousled. Except for the blood that had splashed on his bared chest, Cassiar looked more like an interrupted libertine than a vampire. "Who called for me? Jander, what's- Bane's black heart! Where is everyone?"

"They're gone, Cassiar," Jander said, suddenly laughing. "You'll not torture them, or anyone else, ever again. You die tonight, you bastard. And these-" he held up his golden hands "-are the instruments of your death."

Cassiar frowned. "Jander, stop it. You were wrong to let them go, and you'll be pun-What have you done to them?" he cried, catching sight of the bodies of the vampiresses.

Jander continued to grin savagely, exposing his fangs. Raw excitement was coursing through him, fueled by his anger and his driving hunger. "They are at peace."

Cassiar, full of wrath, turned upon the elven vampire. "On your knees!"

It was a ritual they had performed often before. Each time Jander had tried to thwart Cassiar, urge him to mercy or pity or outright defied him, the vampire lord would command the gold elf's obedience. And Jander, weeping tears of blood at his impotence, could not help but comply. He would kneel and bare his throat. Cassiar would then drink of his blood until he was satisfied his wayward slave had been sufficiently punished. For a vampire to be drained by another was excruciatingly painful, and Jander would be pathetically weak for several days.

Jander winced as he felt the force of Cassiar's will, but stood firm. Gritting his teeth, he growled, "You were a spoiled, arrogant little aristocrat when you breathed, and you're a spoiled, arrogant little aristocrat now. I'll obey you no longer."

Cassiar's face was flushed with fury. His elegant brows drew together over commanding, irresistible brown eyes. "Kneel!"

Jander could not hold out. Gasping in pain, he dropped to the wooden floor. But he still held out hope. Cassiar was angry now, and when he grew angry, he was careless.

"I have indulged you because you were a novelty," the vampire lord continued, moving to stand in front of the kneeling Jander. "But the novelty's gone."

Against his will, Jander reached a hand toward one of the makeshift stakes. He gritted his teeth, fighting to disobey the mental command, but his slim golden fingers curled around the piece of wood. Slowly Jander's hand moved closer to his breast, the tip of the wooden stake pointed toward his heart.

"Your hands are the instruments of your death, not mine," Cassiar gloated.

"No!" came a choked cry. Frajen shoved the holy symbol toward Cassiar's face. "In the name of Lathander Morning-"

Cassiar was an old vampire, far too powerful to be undone by the desperate actions of a young, inexperienced priest. He rolled his eyes and muttered, "Oh, please." With one pale hand, he reached out to pull the priest toward him. With the other he tore open Frajen's neck with a single swipe.

Jander cried aloud. Frajen's sweet voice would never again fill a room with music. The priest had allied with him. Now he was dead for the choice. In his mind's eye, the elf again saw the look of loathing upon Rhynn's face- she who had once called him friend-and the torn body of the little girl who had fallen victim to Cassiar at the farmhouse outside of town. He remembered Aluise's girlish laugh, choked now by her own blood. He saw the frightened, helpless townsfolk and musicians. And he had doomed them, and dozens like them, by aiding Cassiar on his rampages.

Cassiar had relaxed his will for an instant, his attention diverted from the gold elf to Frajen. Jander had a second or two where his will was his own, but he did not squander that precious blink of time in fighting.

Instead, he called for help; he summoned Indigo. From the shadows leaped the black cat, a silent shadow himself, launching his lithe frame with deadly intent toward Cassiar. Claws reached for the vampire lord's brown eyes and raked.

Cassiar shrieked as blood spewed from his damaged eyes. He groped frantically for the cat. Indigo continued to scratch and claw until Cassiar's own nails pierced the creature's sides. With a last frantic meow, the cat spasmed and died.

Blinded, Cassiar could no longer focus his compelling gaze upon Jander, and his power over his minion was suddenly diminished. Jander sprang for his master. The two vampires crashed into a table, sending goblets flying. Despite his blindness, Cassiar recovered swiftly. As Jander's mouth yawned open and descended to the vampire lord's throat, Cassiar heaved. He rolled over, pinning the slighter elf beneath him.

The elven vampire managed to get one arm up to protect his throat-and cried out as Cassiar's fangs sank deeply into his flesh. Teeth met in Jander's forearm, and Cassiar ripped away a chunk of meat. The elf dropped the wooden stake.

"You ungrateful wretch," the master vampire growled through blood-stained teeth. "One day of rest and I'll heal. Then I'll get another elf-maybe that little wench you're so fond of."

Not Rhynn. Never Rhynn. Jander would never permit another one of the People to be corrupted by Cassiar. His rage channeled the strength for one last attack, but Cassiar outweighed him. Laughing, the vampire lord opened his mouth, and his fangs drew nearer.

Abruptly Cassiar jerked upward, snarling. He spun around, clawing blindly at his shoulder. Jander could see that someone had fired an arrow at the vampire lord, but he didn't bother to seek out his would-be savior. Instead, he grabbed a stake and shoved it into Cassiar's breast.

Driven by Jander's hatred and his vampiric strength, the wooden weapon all but disappeared in the sudden redness that was the vampire lord's chest. Cassiar clawed ineffectually at Jander's face, then collapsed on top of the elf. Jander scrambled free, then looked up to see who his unexpected ally might be.

He wasn't really surprised to find a beautiful young woman wearing night-black leather armor leaning against the closed front door. Rhynn clutched her spent bow, but did not meet his eyes. She was staring over Jander's shoulder, her lip curled in a grimace of disgust. The elf followed her gaze.

Cassiar's body was beginning to decay with astonishing speed. The two elves watched in horrified fascination. The corpse rotted, then dried, then even the bones crumbled into fine dust.

Jander looked up at Rhynn. "The Riders?"

"Outside. With Theorn dead, I'm in charge." She hesitated, then continued. "I told them to wait."