You know how it is when you lose.

You’re face down in dirt playing dead, watching Andrus, your vampire lord, skitter away like a hive of hornets were after him. I edged over to my favorite, Natasha. She hated me so bad. But I was relieved to find no mortal injuries that would complicate healing to her vampire frame. I knew she only hated because I was new and yet to be trusted.

So I stood after the last of the ratlings ran off with our loot. They went as quick as they came, back to their comfort holes to count up the loot. I hated them as much as Natasha hated me. And that’s saying a lot.

I grabbed Natasha’s cold hands and drug the vampire out of the middle of the road, quickly into a burnt-out hovel where once a successful inn flourished. I made a small fire…