Chapter 1: Home

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Author's Note:

This is a sequel to Vampire's Prey.

Content Warning: The protagonist of this story is a victim of abuse. I do not condone the actions of the antagonist.


The long weapon whips through the air, aiming right for my head with whistling speed. I raise my short blade to block, gripping the hilt with both hands to brace for a strike which has the strength of a vampire behind it.

The swords meet with a deafening snap. The shock from the impact travels down my blade and into the hilt, biting my hands and making me lose my grip. Unhindered by my weapon, the vampire's sweeping strike continues towards me. The long wooden sword collides with my shoulder, and the force knocks me off my feet.

My butt hits the grass, ending the duel.

I rub my sore shoulder. "That hurt," I grumble.

Rahlan reaches down and picks up my wooden practice sword. "'Tis beneficial to train your mind that failure in battle leads to pain. Now stand. Again," he says.

I've been training with Rahlan for a month now – every day since we returned from Fekby – and it feels like I've learned more about tending to bruises than wielding a sword.

I push myself up with my other arm and dust the grass off my pants. My eyes jump to Jaclyn. She's tending to the vegetable garden which we planted beside the castle wall. Her gaze is on the seedbeds, but I'm sure that she glanced up when I fell over.

On top of a wall tower, Julke is watching with crossed arms. I suppose that watching a feeble human try to contend with Rahlan in a practice duel provides endless entertainment.

Rahlan hands me the wooden sword. "Your human strength cannot resist a vampire's weapon. You must deflect, not block." It's a lesson he's repeated so many times that I've lost count. A shield is useless against a vampire, as trying to block their strikes will just knock me over. Rahlan fashioned a special weapon for me – a short two-handed sword. It's small enough to maneuver quickly, and the hilt has room for two hands to give me the best chance of holding on. The arrowhead-shaped handguard is designed to let hostile blades slide right off, as any hooking would rip it out of my hands. I'm supposed to use it like a ramp to deflect strikes over my head or into the dirt, but that's easier to understand than put into practice.

I nod at his instruction, even if it is the tenth time I'm hearing it. Getting frustrated that vampire's hold such superior strength over us will get me nowhere, and I appreciate Rahlan's effort to teach me.

With a smirk, he takes a step back and points his wooden sword at me. I quickly take my stance. That expression tells me that he's up to something. This next strike will be different.

He raises his sword into the air high above his head, then he steps forward and brings it down upon me. His earlier strike stung when it hit my shoulder, and now all that power is about to come down on my skull. What sword angle could possibly deflect that? I panic in the moment and leap to the side.

His strike misses, but he immediately spins his sword around for a follow up attack to my midriff. My legs twist in a hurry, but I can't move my little sword fast enough to parry. His weapon collides with my soft side and knocks me off balance. I hit the ground again, falling flat on my back.

Grass pricks at the back of my neck. Before I have a moment to recover, Rahlan straddles me.

My eyes widen. Both swords lay abandoned beside us. What is he doing?

His hands slip under the hem of my tunic and rest on my middle.

I scramble to push myself up, but he's too heavy. "What are you doing?" I whisper, "There are people watching."

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