My dearest A
ia
e:
Words cannot express how relieved I am to hear from you. Ancha and I are ready to cover your tracks, fully expecting you to make a mistake. When you disappear without a trace, we fear the worst. I know now that my worries were unfounded and you are the resourceful young vampire I imagined you to be.
On the most pressing issue, I must issue a warning. Under no circumstances can you write to your father. I don't believe Lancaster would have suspected you were still alive, however, Gabriel's orders sent massive reinforcements to Louisiana after their disastrous attack. We believe your home is being watched. Please send me a text and I'll make sure he arrives safely.
As for the most powerful blood given to you after your death at my hands, I hope you can forget its existence. I must plead with you, never tell anyone about this. Please forgive me, I can't say any more.
I'm very satisfied with your arrangement. A safe place to grow and thrive is exactly what you need right now. This is what you should receive. Be careful, because overconfidence is always linked to the demise of the human race, and pride is always our greatest sin.
Ancha is fine, she has indeed made a full recovery. She mentions that you risked your life to protect her even though your freedom was within reach. I will forever be grateful to you for this decision and I am proud to call you my friend.
Please write often and let me know about your adventures. Use the same security methods.
your,
Jimena, Cadiz.
As I stared at the huge four-poster bed in the center of the cabin, I thought that the cabin had grown quite a bit. The fire blazing in the chimney will never burn me. A cool breeze blew in the smell of damp earth through the open window.
Someone was knocking politely at the door.
I stood up and walked down the stairs to the main room of the house. I opened the door and stared outside. The small patch of grass leading to the thorn forest was deserted.
A road opened before me. I followed it to a row of dense trees that stretched as far as the eye could see on either side. Thorny vines twine together to form an impenetrable wall that looks more like sculpture than growth. The knocking sound came from behind.
There's something familiar about the rhythm, but I can't place it. There was nothing hostile about the invitation either. If I were to compare, it would be like a friend pulling on your sleeve to wake you up.
I want to get through.
The roots and trunks of the trees trembled and rumbled deeply before me. An alley juts out into the fog.
As I crossed the threshold, I fell, but something helped me regain my balance. I walked in the white mist for a while and came to a small hill.
The air cleared and I stood in the canyon. Out of my sight, flanked by sheer cliffs, and in front stood a most curious building. It looks like someone carved a temple into this rock. The architecture is blocky, massive, and stately. A massive entrance is flanked by sculptured lions guarding the entrance.
What I thought was a mound of dirt turned out to be a giant turtle. It was all over the trail and now sleeping contentedly. The Choctaw Shaman perched on its shell.
"Nashoba?"
"Brambles and hungry children. It's a strange home, isn't it? You should go see it."
"Where is it?"
“It’s not where, it’s when.”
The turtle yawned, and the mist closed in on me.
"Miss, you must believe me!"
"No!"
"I swear, I'm not the person you're looking for."
"Yes, you are Charles Bishop, charlatan and horse thief."
"Miss, you have found the wrong person. I have never heard of this bishop."
"But the horse you are riding was stolen from the Mitchell Estate this morning by a con man, a liar and a horse thief named Charles Bishop, who happens to fit your description."
"No, miss, you must have seen it wrong!"
"I found their mark on the beast's leg."
It's a lie, but it's the right horse. I really loved the look on Mr. Bishop's face for half a second as he remade the story in his head because he would accept my smoking gun.
"Ah, I knew my good intentions would play tricks on me! I met this man less than three hours ago and he looked desperate. He wanted to sell me the horse so he could take a carriage to Atlanta to visit His mother was sick. And I, the fool, believed him! I didn’t tell you because I knew there was trouble. You have to believe me, I am the victim of this dirty incident!”
charming. He was making up a story while still guessing my reaction! Is this how someone like him manipulates his audience by constantly adapting? Indeed, this man is an artist. No wonder he was able to swindle old Maggie Mitchell out of her pension.
"A famous story, Mr. Bishop. Now let's play a little game. I'll ask you questions, and if you lie, I'll break one of your fingers."
I grabbed his bound hands and untied his index without haste.
Let's start with an easy one. May I have your name?"
"Marcus..."
in advance.
"AAAAaaaagh. What's wrong with you? This is intolerable, an abuse of power. Guard, guard, someone help! I've been violated! You better let me go or I'll arrest you for heinous crimes! The law is on my side This side.”
The man swallowed nervously. His eyes scanned my face, searching for any hint of emotion. Well, maybe I shouldn't laugh so much. At least luckily I have the brains to keep my fangs hidden.
"What. How much. Your. name."
He hesitated
"Miss, you must believe me. I am telling the truth. I am the victim of a hateful conspiracy. My name is really Marcus..."
in advance.
"Aaaaaa! Damn it! Ahhhhhhhhh it hurts. Please have mercy, miss. You are a perceptive woman, yes, I can see that. I am indeed Charles Bishop."
I thought he was going to double down!
"But I'm telling the truth! I am indeed the victim of a hateful conspiracy! Those Mitchell bastards are a bunch of heretics and faithless liars. They said I didn't do anything, they were just defaming me because the truth is Jeremy Mitchell....is my father!"
"Haha, that's great. Oh my God! Does this lie work for anyone?"
"I swear to God..."
in advance.
"AAAAaaaaJesus! Fuck!"
"Tsk, tsk, tsk, don't piss me off by swearing falsely, especially on that name. You know this is an experiment, right? I just want to know how many fingers you have to cut off before I see through your lies. "
"Miss, miss, that's enough. Please!"
"I only asked your name and we already have three fingers. I hope you can do better in the future."
I brushed my gloved hands through the knee-high ears of wheat.
This is frustrating.
I had to drag Mr. Bishop half a mile away to a deserted area while the other man was able to show his credentials and interrogate him in a private room at the Town Hall. This is unfair. I even asked Loth for men's clothing, but he said I had, and I quote him, "an ass that can carry ships across the Aegean" and that he "didn't want innocent young lads questioning their sexuality every time they crossed the street." orientation". I guess that means you can't cross-dress.
So here I am. Pleasantly amusing myself as best I can, in a wheat field in my backyard in Georgia when I could be doing it in a comfortable room with full citizen supervision, just because my genitals don't dangle when I walk Dangle away. This is a shame. I almost miss vampire society and its brutal equality.
"Miss?"
what should I do?
"Besides cash, what else did you steal?"
His eyes quickly turned to the town on the right.
"So you did steal something."
"No, miss, please, you have to believe me, I am an honest person!"
in advance.
"Gaaaaaaaaaaaahahahaaaaaaaahaha!"
"Dear Charles, you are almost begging me. A minute ago you admitted to lying. Do you realize that you have gone too far?"
"Baaaaahahaha"
I was so impressed with how Mr. Bishop spun an incredibly painful and tragic story for a full minute. Tears flowed from his eyes and snot ran from his nostrils like Niagara Falls. He is the epitome of despair and repentance. I had to let him go, and after he bought medicine for his poor mother, he could live the honest life he had always longed for. I tried to show more and more sympathy as the story reached its dramatic conclusion.
"Your poor family..."
"Yes, miss..."
"What made your sister blind?"
"me"
in advance.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA"
"Charles, Charles, now you're pissing me off. Don't tell me you never thought of this! Of course, people will ask questions to challenge your claims! You need to be able to answer these basic questions on the spot or the lie will be exposed .What a bad performance. Ah, what should I do with you?"
Um.
Anyway, on to the next question. That's what you stole from the saddle. "
"Yes, yes, damn yes, it's all there!"
"What about pensions?"
“…”
in advance.
"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh I didn't say anything!"
"You're thinking about this!" You're licking your lips and calculating the odds! I'm sick of it, you clearly can't tell the truth to save your miserable life! I've got six broken fingers! Six! Why are you so stupid! Don't No more wasting my time. "
"Yes, yes, I'll tell you."
I grabbed the man's hair with one hand and Ximena's dagger with the other. I place the blade at the base of the eye socket, just below the eyeball. He was stunned.
"Now I ask again. If you don't answer my question accurately and completely, I'm going to stick the knife in you. I mean anything. You protest, you beg, you cry, you lie and you lose that eye I'll move on to my next target. You don't need any eyes, ears, or fingers to tell me what I want to know. I'll follow that order until I get what I want. Am I clear enough?"
He nodded.
“Where is the pension?”
"I buried it in a burlap sack under the apple tree behind the inn. The one next to the toilet."
"very good."
I hid the dagger and rummaged through my backpack for whatever I had stolen from the hotel.
"You're probably here to collect the bounty, right?" You can take everything, let me go, and keep the pension for yourself. If anyone asks, just say you haven't seen me. Just untie me and I'll disappear like the wind. You will never see me again, the pension is yours. "
oh?
"Charles, Charles, Charles...if I do what you say and keep that pension to myself, then, tell me, why should I keep witnesses?"
Mr. Bishop's face turned pleasant. Oh, he was full of fear and energy! A few more minutes and I couldn't resist.
"If you do one small thing for me, I might consider letting you go. A very simple thing..."
"Okay, okay, please do whatever you want!"
When I thrust a brand-new candle into Bishop's bound hands, he cried out in surprise, then in pain. The look of incomprehension on his face when I lit it with a match was priceless.
"I just realized tonight is my birthday!" Well, in a sense. I wasn't born yet. However, I still want to celebrate. I just want you to sing for me. "
"W...what?"
"Sing!"
"Ha...ha...happy birthday to you."
I sang along, drawing the dagger only once, encouraging him to finish. When he finished, I applauded and blew out the candles. Only the moonlight shines on us now.
"Okay! Now I need a drink, what's a party without wine? Can you buy me something nice?"
"Of course!" You can drink as much as you like!"
"Thank you!"
I grabbed his throat and bit down.
Over the past six months, a few things have changed. I can move faster and for longer. I can use the same energy to empower myself, although I find it much more difficult. I can also wrestle grown men effortlessly. The most valuable change, in my opinion, is that I can now stay awake almost all night, although to be fair, July nights last 9 hours.
It was only living with Loth that I realized how little I accomplished each day. There are only a few hours of complete activity, and each project takes a week to complete. I'm not surprised that Father Perry caught up with me. In two days of intense riding, he easily covered further ground than I would in a week.
Despite the short time I had at my disposal, I managed to get a few things done. I assisted Loth on several hunts and often helped him put the finishing touches on delicate tasks. In return I learned to read several runic letters, and while I was new to magic, my understanding of it was not. I now understand what mages are capable of and the various tools they use, and I must say I'm extremely lucky that I'm facing a lone wolf. It's really dangerous for a group of them to work together.
When I'm not working with Loth, I'm reading and hunting bounties.
The town where we live and its neighbors do not have a dedicated law enforcement organization. Offenders are dealt with by a group of "concerned citizens" who can deliver swift mob justice. When the perpetrators manage to escape immediate punishment, the mayor issues bounties so that he, or in this case, she, whoever brings them back, can be compensated for lost income. Being a bounty hunter is no easy task. When the judge and half the jury know the victim personally, the executioner has his work cut out for him, and the fugitive knows it too.
Such was my agreement with good Mr. Partridge.
I knocked on the reinforced wooden door.
"Come in!"
I walked into a modestly decorated living room. I tried my best to ignore the ubiquitous Christian images and focus on the man in front of me. Michael Partridge was a stocky man with a gray beard and one good eye. He wore undyed clothes that accentuated his toned muscles, which had not been eroded by age, although he was starting to show a bit of his belly.
"Miss Delaney, have you found him?"
Loth is now called Delaney.
"Yes. I tied it under the big chestnut tree at the crossroads of Jacksonville and Holst Farm."
"Well done, I'll pick him up tomorrow. "The horse?"
"Being tied up in front of the Fat Pig Tavern"
"What about old Mrs. Mitchell's savings?"
"It's all here," I replied, placing the loot on his desk. "And a pair of silver candlesticks and some cutlery. Just a minute."
I walked out of the house and came back with a bag and pretended to be struggling. As a woman, I have never been weak, but I am not built like a day laborer, and my money is heavy. Loth mentioned that humans are wired to notice inconsistencies as a survival mechanism, so I'm very careful when dealing with people I don't want to bite.
I placed this heavy bag next to the first bag.
"Easy to find. The Mitchells didn't mention that. Could it be another victim?"
"I doubt he has time. Maybe Mrs. Mitchell doesn't want to admit she was ripped off. You know how shameful people feel when they're attacked, as if it's their own fault they were targeted."
Michael nodded thoughtfully.
Maybe she forgot, but yeah, it makes sense. I remember thinking that if I ducked to the left instead of backwards, the Hessian spear wouldn't...ah, listen to me ramble like an old man. Thank you, Miss Delaney. I'll make sure to let Margaret know how helpful you have been. "
"You must be careful..."
"Of course, of course."
I was about to leave, but my master scratched his beard and stared into the distance, a sure sign that something was bothering me.
"Please tell me, what is the reason for your uneasiness?"
The man sighed and rubbed his tired eyes.
"Would you like a cup of tea?"
Even if I could drink, I would refuse just because there is a giant cross hanging above the table.
"It's late, sir. I really should go home."
"Yeah, I shouldn't even ask, like shouldn't ask...ah, not a single thing about this whole crazy thing is right. I'm helping a lone woman apprehend dangerous criminals in the dead of night. It's so Crazy. You should be at home in bed at this time, or preferably in your husband's bed."
"Then who caught up with that guy named Bishop?"
"I don't know! Maybe it was Phillips, or when the Mitchell brothers came! Not... you!"
"If they found him, do you believe they would ask him where he hid the fish?"
He was about to retort when the news came. Curse me for keeping silent.
"What did you do to him?"
Well done, Ariana.
"I just broke a few fingers..."
"Jesus, woman!"
I cringe.
"language!"
"Ah! I...I'm sorry. This is not right, Miss Delaney, completely wrong."
I need to take action. If our agreement is broken, those who hunt illegally will be less worthy.
"When you give old Mrs. Mitchell your life savings back, look her in the eyes and tell her this isn't right, this isn't right. We live in a lawless place, Michael, and for evil to succeed, just It's enough for good men to do nothing. If we don't stand up to betrayal, who will? If we have to choose between decency and justice, I know my heart will tilt toward protecting our people."
Well, I said a little too much.
"You... you're right, Miss Delaney. I have no right to object," he said, a tear rolling down his rosy cheek. "I just hope my bad leg won't get in the way." I."
Um. It works. He wiped his eyes, stared straight at me, and nodded at my feigned determination to enforce the law.
“I don’t know why you were given these skills, even if you are a woman, but God works in mysterious ways and as long as we follow His will, that’s all that matters.” An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, may God forgive Charles ·Bishop, because we will not forgive him. "
He stood up, grabbed my hand, held it warmly, and led me out.
"Come home in peace, Miss Delaney, sleep well, and God bless you. You did a great job tonight. I'll leave the reward to your uncle."
I walked back to Loth's mansion. Well, what just happened? Well, as long as I can keep hunting...
