Page 14 of Hunt Me

“Gregorio isn’t your true name, and I refuse to be anyone’s loose end. May fortune favor you.”

For extra flair, Matilda ensured her cloak dramatically billowed behind her as she left the nefarious vamp.

“Five thousand gold pieces,” he called after her. She stopped in her tracks.

“I’m not for sale,” Matilda said breathlessly. The words barely escaped her when the vampire was in her ear.

“Everyone has a price,” he whispered before floating out of the tavern. Matilda was still cemented in place when Belzara announced her presence.

“Hmph! I guess you won’t remain untouched for much longer,” she said judgmentally, breaking Matilda out of her daze.

“Belzara, you’re right. I won’t remain untouched for long. Not after we share a bed tonight.”

“You are a dastardly woman,” Belzara sneered before leaving to rescue one of their tavern maidens from a group of rowdy and handsy minotaurs.

“I try my best,” Matilda mumbled to herself, pulling her hood over her mass of curls. She squinted her eyes against the wintry mix that whipped through the air. “The winter will be harsh this year,” she announced upon entering the stables. Upset by her tardiness, Obsidian loudly neighed, snorted through his nose, and kicked up some of the hay that littered the ground. “Surely, you cannot be upset. I’m only a little late,” she whined, retrieving a few sugar cubes from her pocket.

She smirked once the menacing beast calmed.

“That’s what I thought,” she whispered, allowing her trusted partner to lap the cubes from her palm. “Listen closely. Some developments have come up regarding our vagrancy. The tavern now employs me as their hunter; room and board included. You know what that means, right? No more baths in freezing rivers, no more sleeping on the rocky ground, no more sleeping with one eye open, and boar soup. Please, please, contain yourself, Obsidian.”

She giggled to herself as she brushed his shiny black coat. He nudged her with his head, signifying he wanted another treat.

“It wouldn’t hurt you to say please,” Matilda huffed before locating her saddle bag that hung on the hook in his stall. She reached into the bag without looking and frowned in confusion. “What the hell?” she whispered when her fingertips grazed a leather pouch. She clutched the pack and whipped it out. Her shaky fingers untied the bag, revealing a mass of gold pieces and a note.

Matilda,

Forgive me. I failed to pay you for your time. There is more to come. I will be seeing you soon.

- Gregorio

Matilda poured the currency into her open palm and stopped counting after thirty gold pieces. For the briefest moment, she considered his offer. She could restart her life with the money. Better yet, she could rebuild.

“Forget it, Tilda. Nothing in life is free,” she chastised herself before returning the coins to the pouch.

5

Meeting in the Woods

“Come on, baby. That’s it. Come to Mama,” Matilda whispered as the unsuspecting male reindeer traveled into the clearing. He was a good size, around 350 pounds from what she could tell. Belzara would be pleased.

Matilda was about to shoot when a creak from above made the reindeer scurry into the forest for cover. She rolled onto her back and released her arrow into the tree, smirking when the steel tip of her arrow lodged into her stalker’s chest.

“You might as well wipe that smirk off your face. This was nothing. It tickled if I’m being honest,” he purred as he slowly eased the arrow out of his chest.

“Any time I draw blood is a victory,” Matilda said as she gathered her belongings.

“I can’t argue with you there,” Gregorio agreed. “You should be more careful, Matilda.”

“Why is that?” she asked, slinging her quiver onto her back.

“You’re a young woman, and you’re all alone in the woods. No telling what vile creatures lurk about. No one would hear your desperate cries for help.”

“You know, usually, when someone has a fantasy, they keep it to themselves.”

“Is that what you think I want?” the hooded vampire asked, his voice smooth yet ominous. He gracefully descended from the branch he was perched on and silently landed on his feet, barely making a whisper of a sound. Matilda had to remind herself not to be so familiar with the traitorous vampire. She couldn’t be distracted by his playful taunts and witty comebacks. If he wanted, he could snap her neck and drain her before you could say the third line of the Lord’s Prayer.

Maybe dying won’t be so bad. There will be no struggle, no strife, no worry. Just nothingness, she thought.