Blood Tint ~ Part 15

{Start with Part 1}

Blood Tint ~ Part 15

“You’re going to turn me nocturnal,” Neave said over a steaming short stack of buttermilk pancakes. “It’s dinner time.”

“Worse things can befall one,” Daciana said, sipping her orange juice.

Neave paused, the concern passing over her face easy to read. She was afraid she’d offended Daci, and I smiled. Neave had a lot yet to learn about us.

“We are what we are, Darling. One gets used to it quite quickly when one’s life depends on it.”

I flipped Daci’s pancakes onto her plate one by one and presented it with a flourish. In a country with wonders such as maple syrup, she still preferred butter and jam on hers. As I turned to pour batter for myself onto the kitchenette’s griddle, I saw Neave nod.

“So, tell me then,” Neave said. “How much truth is there in that part of the mythology? I don’t expect you actually burst into flames if exposed to the sun.”

“No. That’s true,” I said. “But we can get serious sunburn in seconds, and the equivalent of second degree burns after a few minutes, and it’s just as painful as it sounds. A few hours under direct sun is actually deadly. It’s the ultraviolet radiation in part, but there’s also something else no one yet really understands. Those ‘full spectrum’ lamps and bulbs are uncomfortable, but not injurious.”

“So… wearing a big hat and long clothes and SPF 1000 sunscreen…”

“Would make us look quite distinctive, and still be dangerous,” Daci said. “You can walk through a burning building in a fire suit, but could you spend all day like that? Would you want to?”

“We can heal over time from almost any wound that’s not immediately mortal,” I added, “But exposure to the sun takes as long or longer than an equivalent burn for you. And convalescing is very difficult given our other needs; it’s almost impossible to do alone. And, one last insult, looking at the sun – even a reflection in dark glass, or a glint from a puddle – is enough to blind us. For a considerable time.” My voice turned wistful at the end there, and I busied myself with finishing my cooking and joining the women at the countertop eating area.

“Our Alak misses the sun far more than I,” Daci said. “It used to be part of his religious practice.”

“And, well, it’s beautiful,” I added.

“Many deadly things are,” Daci nodded. “For me, I don’t really miss it. For a handful of decades after the Red Death changed everything for so many, most of us who had turned were hunted as witches or worse. The night, feared by so many, was our best shelter. These are the seeds of the legends you know. Then, I was young and incautious. A spring night-time venture too far outside of familiar territory resulted in my being trapped and sun-blinded – intentionally – by a local Lordling. He kept me as a pet and punishment in his dungeon.”

Neave’s eyes went wide and round at Daci’s words.

“It was everything you might imagine. Painful, degrading, hungry. He had a special mask made for me, and bound and used me, thinking he would gain power from me. He let me feed off of his prisoners and livestock. It took over a year for my sight to come back… Oh, it is all right, Neave. “

Neave had, quite unconsciously, reached out for Daci’s hand as she was talking.

“It was long, long ago.”

Neave did not look terribly reassured. I picked up the story.

“You know, Daci figured out pretty early how to escape her cell, and even blind had learned the keep’s passages in the night, while most of its residents were asleep. Our other senses are, as you know, quite keen. Escape would have been just a matter of time, even if her sight hadn’t come back. And our noble friend was… impressionable… given time and patience.”

“Boiam Dimir,” she said, eyes looking into the past, “He thought himself fierce and domineering. But he had his moments, and I think by the time he took his blind demoness captive as a wife, he was at least somewhat in love. The ceremony _was_ quite nice.”

“Oh, my god,” Neave said.

“One adapts, Neave. One bides. Boian was proud of his conquest, boastful, and dared his subjects and neighbors to accuse me. One nearby kinglet, Vasile Paraska, inevitably did, and there would have been a small war.”

“But there wasn’t?”

Daciana smiled and showed her fangs.

“No. As the forces gathered, I stole away one night. I was guarded laxly by then. Boian had become blind himself, in his own way, not that I hadn’t nudged his thoughts and suggested things to him. It was, in retrospect, a fairly dangerous exploit. I had less than 10 hours of night to make it to Paraska’s camp, negotiate with him, and return.”

Neave looked askance at Daciana.

“Vasile was superstitions, certain I was a devil of some sort. I didn’t disabuse him of the notion, sneaking my way past his guards to appear in his private chambers. Superstitious or not, the flesh, as they say, is weak. And he was just as greedy, and a bit smarter than Boiam. We struck a deal. By the next dawn, Boiam my husband was dead and his army in disarray. The Paraska Kingdom grew, but Dimir Keep was left to the mourning widow.”

Neave thought a moment. “Dimir Keep? That’s your castle?”

Daciana nodded.

“And Boiam, did you…?” she pointed to her teeth.

Daciana nodded again.

“It was a hard time, and not just for those stricken like me. My bargain with Paraska gave me independence rare among women, much less other vampires. And it remained a safe haven for long after his little kingdom fell…” Daciana paused, “It all turned out very, very well in the end. But I took a hard lesson with me, and I do not miss the sun. And, as you’ve seen, mornings are not my best time.”

The smile she gave was as close as Daci ever got to self-effacing.

Neave turned to me.

“And you don’t mind the mornings so much.”

{Continued in Part 16}