The Vampire & Her Witch

Across the table from Lennart and Zedya, Virve pointedly ignored the affectionate couple as she threw an exaggerated, ravenous look toward Georg while rubbing her belly and glancing furtively toward her empty bowl.

Of course, she hadn’t missed Lennart’s struggle with the sorbet, or a single word of his whispered conversation with Zedya. Nor had she failed to notice the hunger in his eyes when he looked at her, or the way his gaze seemed to focus on the pulse within her neck...

The Oak Witch might not have senses as sharp as a vampire’s, but she wasn’t an ordinary person anymore either. Still, even though she’d noticed, she said nothing and pretended that she was completely oblivious to her former companion’s struggles.

Zedya had come to her the night after Virve had offered her blood to help Lennart heal from his wounds, and the witch was well aware of how profoundly intoxicating a witch’s blood could be for a vampire. Neither of them had realized, however, how much more significant it would be for Lennart to consume the blood of a witch while he was still within his Blossoming Period, the time when a vampire’s powers were still defining themselves and his body was changing dramatically night after night.

”Even Mistress Nyrielle doesn’t know how consuming your blood may change him,” Zedya confessed privately the night that everyone had gathered to await news of the battle in Hanrahan. ”He may need to come to you again in the future...”

”Then he can come to me, and he can feed on me, whenever he needs to,” Virve replied bluntly. ”He was my friend long before he became a vampire or I became a witch. If he needs a bit of my blood from time to time, so be it.”

”Virve,” Zedya said with a complicated expression on her face. ”You know what a witch’s blood can mean to a vampire. If he ever loses himself in the blood you offer him... If he takes too much,” she said, her voice trailing off as she wasn’t able to complete the sentence.

”I know,” Virve said with a sad smile on her lips as her gaze grew much softer than it had been. ”For a vampire to live again, a witch must die. Don’t worry, Madame Zedya,” Virve said. ”He is my closest friend outside of the coven, but he is your husband, not my lover. So long as he needs my blood, he can drink it from a cup, unless circumstances are dire.”

”But Zedya,” Virve said as her gaze hardened and her tone grew unyielding. ”You and Lennart have an eternity to share. Even if I live for centuries, I won’t be around forever. If the time ever comes that only one of us can survive, I’ll make sure to send Lennart back to you.”

”Virve, you don’t have to...”

”I do,” the Oak Witch said firmly. ”He saved my life more times than I can count, and even if I didn’t owe him this, I’d do it anyway. Just promise to take care of him afterward, and I won’t have any regrets.”

She hadn’t meant for it to sound like some kind of grand gesture. To Virve, it was only practical. She and Lennart had trained to serve in Nyrielle’s personal guard from the days that Commander Bassinger had only been Lady Nyrielle’s guard captain, and they’d long lived with the idea that they might have to sacrifice themselves in order to protect either Nyrielle or one of her long-lived progeny.

It was a horrible price to pay, but there wasn’t anyone who protected the vampires while they slept during the day who wasn’t willing to pay it. After all, while they protected Nyrielle, she protected their families, their villages, and the whole of the Vale of Mists. The math wasn’t as simple as one person dying so that one other might live. It was one person’s death, or even all of their deaths, so that their undying guardians could protect their families for generations to come.

Now that Lennart had become one of those undying vampires, even though Virve was no longer a member of Nyrielle’s guard, she extended the same feelings to him. Besides, if she had to die for anyone outside of her coven, if it was her best friend, then she really wouldn’t have any regrets.

She never intended to tell Lennart about the conversation she’d had with Zedya, and from the playful way that the older vampire was toying with her husband, Zedya didn’t intend to mention it to him either.

But both women were of the same mind on one thing; Lennart had enough to struggle with as the first vampire created by any of Nyrielle’s progeny. What he needed right now was the support of the people who were closest to him, and if that meant that Virve needed to pretend to be oblivious to the obvious hunger in Lennart’s eyes when he looked at her... so be it. And if he needed to give in to that hunger, that was fine too.

After all, they’d both known Lennart for more than twenty years, and no momentary weakness would change how either of them felt about him.

”I know that look, Virve,” Georg said with a hearty chuckle, pulling her out of her thoughts as he finally acknowledged her gaze. ”The next course will have plenty of meat, don’t worry,” he teased, treating her the same way he had when she was one of Nyrielle’s guards, without letting her change in station affect their friendship.

”Good,” Virve said with a satisfied nod. ”If we have to wait much longer, I’m going to start thinking that the humans have the right idea, starting their feasts with a whole spit-roasted beasts. You know, if you need a hand getting the next course ready, I’m sure Ollie wouldn’t mind giving you a hand,” she said, throwing a teasing look toward the Cypress Witch, where he sat between Thane and Diarmuid.

”I already helped Georg make the soup,” Ollie protested in mock indignation. ”And besides, there’s nothing about the next course I can help with; the hard work was already done hours ago, wasn’t it, Georg?”

”In that case, if everyone is ready,” Ashlynn said, eagerly seizing on the opportunity to escape Erkembalt’s attempts to ask more questions about the ’stick’ she’d used to defeat a Giant Thornback Alligator. ”Since everyone has finished their sorbet, why don’t we move on to the next one?”