The Vampire's Crimson Kiss (Editing)

I sat in an iron cage again, the slow sounds of our river passage continuing, soothing compared to the bustle of the coven. I could hear a pole being used to both guide and measure the depth of the lake and then the river. Safe in the cage, it was quite relaxing. I sat back and, in the dim light, looked around.

The frantic speed of my departure from the Keep was now mirrored by the calmness of the ride. I wasn't sure why I was in the cage again. I made a pillow from what I could and read and reread the message. The outside world smelt fresh but in places foul. It was cold.

Cub had brought her only possessions: a toolbox of tattoo inks and a box of coven makeup. I had a few books and a dress to change into, a high familiar's dress like the one Mary wore. The journey was slow and tedious. After sleeping, I was woken by the sunlight and couldn't get back to sleep again. I sat there, bored. In the dimness, Cub was bored too, so she opened the tattoo box, pulled back her skirt, and started to etch a pattern near the ones that were already there into her own thigh. She liked to etch patterns on herself.

While she worked, I read. The only new book was a familiar's guide to the blood god. This one was designed to be read out to the illiterate masses. It was mostly done in stories, and the message was simple: If the blood god didn't exist, why are vampires the ones in charge? Plus, you want to live, don't you? Why not live forever? Sort of carrot and stick, mostly stick, a whip-shaped stick. Emphasis on suffering making you a better person. Doing your dues. I wasn't convinced, but I could see why people believed this. I knew I had the same choice. If I was prepared to pray to a demon, I could have what I wanted—him. With him came riches, power, and immortality, and I wondered if that was clouding my judgment. The prospect of spending a few thousand years together in his arms seemed pretty tempting. Still on coven time I drifted into and out of sleep.

I woke up to some commotion on deck. I crawled to a spyhole.

"I think a boat has come alongside," I told the confused Cub, putting her tattoo stuff down.

People walked loudly on deck. There was shouting. Then suddenly there was fighting. I could hear the bite and clash of steel on steel. Finally, a shot rang out, and everything went silent. It looked like our invaders had a gun. I didn't think I had much of a guard. The river had regular patrols; it was supposed to be safe.

Then sheet was being pulled off the outside of the iron cage. While it was, Cub pulled off her hood to reveal a girl not much older than me. Her black hair fell down. She had a long nose, freckles but soft eyes. She rushed up to me, spitting out the gag she wore under the hood. She still put her finger to her mouth to indicate I should be silent.

An unwashed, ugly face looked in. I could see the mark of the Coven of Midnight on his bare arm, but with an unkempt beard and wild man appearance. He was, clad in tattered rags and armor caked with mud and grime. He looked to be a specter of fear and loathing among those who dared to cross his path. Once a formidable member of the Midnight Coven, he had been stripped of his power and prestige in the aftermath of a devastating war, his brethren scattered like leaves in the wind.

His brown eyes, once ablaze with the fiery hunger of the predator, now burned with a cold, haunted light, reflecting the emptiness that gnawed at his soul. His fangs, once gleaming and sharp, were now dulled by disuse and neglect, a grim reminder of the life he and his coven had lost.

But despite his fall from grace, there was still a dangerous edge to him, a primal ferocity that simmered beneath the surface like a coiled serpent waiting to strike. For even in his darkest hour, he remained a creature of the night, a predator driven by instinct and necessity.

After the death of Lord Moratu and their defeat by the coven of the Meridian. As part of the peace deal many swore loyalty to their new coven. Others became renegades. Some of the coven Midnight warriors were left as pirates and thieves. They particularly liked taking property from The Meridian.