All life had been washed out of the land by the storm clouds that never dispersed or filled their promise for rain. The ground was soft as a rotting corpse and the grey house looked like some hungry predator that lied still waiting for prey to get too close. Some rich man had probably built it as a vacation home and then forgotten about it when something else caught his fancy.

Then a vampire had bought it.

If they made it out alive, this place would have to be burned down and the earth salted. The house had become cursed, and the land tainted. Crops raised here would have teeth and the cattle a taste for flesh. Now, only fire would cleanse this place.

Fire…

How often he had thought about dosing this terrible place with gasoline and watch it all burn away? The scenery of Cobbler’s Hold and its undead inhabitants burning still played out in front of him, every time he closed his eyes.

Would he see it for the rest of his life?

Perhaps but first, he had to get out of this alive to find out and the first step was mapping the battleground. So, Nuncio gave Sal a tour of the house and the lands. Sal followed him and listened intently while taking note of everything he heard and saw.

But one of the blue eyes was always locked on the shack.

The shack had been built at the edge of the yard that might have been a groundskeeper’s hut once upon time. Now the windows were boarded, and a heavy lock hung from the thick door. They could have broken through, but Nuncio didn’t need to look inside to know what was being stored there.

Finally, their tour took them outside and Nuncio could feel Sal’s growing excitement.

“Can you feel it? The Wyrd Stones.” Sal said.

Nuncio followed Sal’s gaze and looked at the shack.

“No. Can you?”

“Oh, yes. Do you know how they work?” Sal asked.

“They’re…” Nuncio began and thought back on Mordesai’s lessons: “A charm. An anchor that sealed The Wyrding and magic into a world of their own.”

“That they did and daddy dearest poked holes in the walls. Now the magic is leaking out. Daddy has been a naughty boy.” Sal said.

Nuncio trembled.

“Could you… not call him that?” Nuncio said.

“Call him what?” Sal said.

“Please don’t make me say it.” Nuncio said.

“Oh? You don’t like me calling him a naughty boy? Or daddy?” Sal said and shook his head: “I won’t treat him with respect.”

Nuncio looked at Sal. Really looked at him.

“I don’t think you understand just how dangerous he is. He is… a King of the Dark.”

“Like hell he is. I’ve met servants of the Dark and your father is not one of them. They would spit on him if they ran into him. A King of the Screaming might be more accurate.” Sal said and kneeled down to look at the lock: “Besides… the only King of the Dark that mattered was baron Stradheim and he set a high bar. Would your father duel the Wyrd King? I don’t think so. But the baron would. The baron did.”

“That’s no reason underestimate him.”

“If you think your enemy is invincible, you’ll defeat yourself.” Sal said and stood up: “The Wyrd Stones lose their power quickly if they’re moved. No wonder your old man keeps getting new ones. I think…

“What are you boys doing here?” Mathilde said.

Mathilde was walking towards them in her maid outfit with the look of a parent who hid her anger under a smile. It was always unnerving to see a vampire outside during the day. Even if it was under heavy clouds. It made it feel like the sun had betrayed you. You were supposed to be safe during the day.

Sal smirked at her.

“Just taking in the view. My verdict? Could use some color.” Sal said.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

“I’ll take your word for it.” Mathilde said and then pointed at the shed: “The shack is off limits. Master’s orders.”

“Ah, so that’s where the bodies are buried.” Sal said.

Mathilde’s eyes narrowed and Nuncio began chewing on his lip.

“What?” Mathilde said.

“Come on. You can tell me. I am part of the furniture now. You think I didn’t stack up a few corpses for Cassio?” Sal said and stroked his beard while looking at the shack: “My suggestion on disposal? Meet an unscrupulous cook. The eviler the better. Which is why I never touch the mystery meat when eating out.”

Mathilde growled while her patience was tested to its limits. Nuncio took Sal’s hand and shook his head.

“Sal. Don’t.”

The blue eyes looked at him for a while and then Sal bowed his head.

“My apologies. Just a bad joke.”

Mathilde threw a thin smile Sal’s way.

“Watch your mouth around master. He doesn’t like it when people get uppity. Isn’t that right, Nuncio?”

Nuncio gripped Sal’s hand tighter.

“… right.” Nuncio said.

“I’ll be sure to do that but… silence will cost extra. It is golden after all. When is the boss man here anyway? Sal needs money.” Sal said and rubbed his thumb and forefinger together.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if he dropped by tonight. You’ll get what you deserve then.” Mathilde said.

“I can hardly wait.” Sal said.

“Neither can I, Sal. Neither can I.”

Suddenly Sal’s eyes turned into approaching bullets and his face became hard as a knife.

“Torrini.” Sal said.

“Huh?”

“I said my name is Torrini. You do not call me Sal, maid. Next time you do, you will regret it.”

The wind felt colder, and Nuncio could almost make the outline of a giant fox being drawn over Sal. Mathilde had fallen very quiet and looked… unnerved.

“Understood… lord Torrini.” Mathilde said.

“Better.” Sal said and then the smiling façade returned: “Glad we understand each other.”

While still holding his hand, Sal led Nuncio back towards the mansion leaving Mathilde behind to plot her revenge. How long was Sal planning to hold onto his hand? Was it getting weird that he wasn’t pulling his hand away? Had Sal noticed how much he was blushing?

“That bitch really needs to up her veiled threat game. That was pathetic.” Sal said.

“Sal… please… don’t piss her off. You don’t know what she’s capable of.”

“I have a very good idea what she’s capable of. I could smell the blood on her breath. Child blood. If it wasn’t for the plan, I would have killed her on the spot.” Sal said.

Nuncio’s fingers curled tighter around Sal’s palm.

“You sure the plan will work?”

Sal flashed him a cocky grin.

“Trust me, Nuncio. Old Badger is the best at what she does. We only need to get Pietro away from the mansion for her to do her thing.”

“You really trust her.” Nuncio said and felt a bang of jealousy.

“With my life. The only thing that stands in our way is our own staggering incompetence. Luckily getting your mom out while your father flies here to give me, heh, what I deserve should be simple enough. Even if the dead travel fast.” Sal said.

Only when they got to Nuncio’s room, did Sal let go of his hand. It was a nice room with a fine bed, soft couch, books, a piano, and a violin.

“You’re a musician?” Sal said with obvious delight: “I did not know that.”

“I started young.” Nuncio said, trying to sound modest.

“You will have to play for me when this is over.” Sal said and looked outside: “We should get some shut eye before it gets dark. We have… quite a night ahead of us.”

After saying that, Sal took off his shoes and lied down on Nuncio’s bed.

“I… I guess I’ll sleep on the couch.” Nuncio said.

“Why?” Sal asked and patted the bed: “Plenty of space here and I am fun size, so I don’t take much room.”

Nuncio’s cheeks reddened and his heart quickened. He tried to think of excuses to say no but before he could utter any of them, he had already lied next to Sal on the bed.

“I don’t know how we can sleep now but…” Nuncio began, only to realize that Sal was already asleep.

Sal was a silent sleeper. His breathing was even when he lied on his side, and he looked peaceful. Nuncio studied his sleeping face for a moment and then yawned. Sleep under his father’s roof had always been restless just like his waking hours. You could never be sure when father would get hungry and walk in to feed. Mother had only so much blood to give. But right now, he felt safe and warm.

He slept without dreams. Without nightmares. He slept until…

“Wakey, wakey.”

When he opened his eyes, Sal was standing by the window. The eternal clouds covered the sky, but he could feel that the sun had gone down. A trick you picked up quickly when your father was a vampire.

“It’s show time, darling, so look sharp. We only get one shot at this.” Sal said.

Nuncio sat up and rubbed his face.

“There is Mathilde.” Nuncio said.

Sal smirked.

“I guess that means we need a distraction. Wait here and get your mom when you see the sign.”

“The sign?”

“You’ll know when you see it.”

Sal opened the window and jumped out. He hit the ground making as much sound as a landing bird. Even if he did not worship the Quiet, Sal knew how to move silently like a goblin. Most hunters did. Nuncio watched him disappear into the darkness and waited.

He waited and waited.

Then he saw it.

A spark in the night.

Before he knew it, the shed where father had hidden the stolen Wyrd Stones was in flames. A horrified screech came from inside the house and Mathilde flew out, towards the fire. It looked like she was gliding through the air as she ran.

Nuncio ran too.

This time fear did not slow him down and he leaped two or three steps at a time when he ran towards the cellar where mom was being kept. Despite how easily she got tired, she was sitting upright and looked ready.

“Mom! We’re leaving now!”

Mom only looked at him and then nodded slowly before her head snapped towards the door. The floorboards creaked when someone walked downstairs.

“How right you are. We are leaving.” Sal said when he stepped into the room: “Now, how about we…?”

Then Sal saw what Pietro Capello had done to his wife and all mirth died in him.

Nuncio bit his lip and cursed himself for not warning Sal ahead of time. It had taken him… a very long time to look at mom without shivering. Seeing her like this for the first time was… horrifying. Not just seeing someone like this but also knowing that there were people who would do things like this to others.

After being fed on for years, mom had withered away to nothing. The grey skin hung loosely on brittle bones and her muscles has wasted to nothing. Her once beautiful dark hair had turned white as old snow and thin as dead grass. Her face was lined by claws of time, but her eyes were the most haunting part of her. They had sunk deep into their sockets and were surrounded by dark shadows. The eyes of an innocent soul trapped in hell.

Mom hid her face behind her hand.

“… please… don’t look at me.”

Sal lowered his face and stared at his feet.

“… I… my lady… I am so sorry.”

Nuncio sighed and took his mother’s hand.

“Mom, this is the friend I told you about. His name is Sal. Sal, this is my mother. Danielle.”

Sal gave mom a forced smile and a stiff bow.

“Nice to meet you… lady Danielle.”

“… likewise, Sal…”

Tubes run into mom’s arm from the cruel machine that could harvest her blood safely. Vampires could always loose themselves in the feeding process. Nuncio pulled the tubes out as gently as he could and then bandaged the wounds.

“Let’s go for a drive.” Nuncio said.

When Sal tried to help pick mom up, Nuncio just shook his head and took mom in his arms.

“… am I too heavy?” Mom asked.

“No. You’re my mother.”

After Sal had made sure the coast was clear and Mathilde was still trying to put out the fire, Nuncio carried mom out of the basement and into the car. Once she was safely in the car, Sal shut the door but didn’t get inside himself.

“Start driving and whatever you do, don’t stop.” Sal said.

“Sal? What are you…?”

“There’s been a change of plans. Me and your old man need to discuss ethics… or lack of thereof.”

Mom put her bony hand on Sal’s.

“… don’t do this… you don’t know what he can do.” Mom said.

“And he doesn’t know me. I think it’s time to change that.” Sal said and kissed her hand.

Then Sal leaned inside the car and kissed Nuncio’s cheek. The short beard tickled his skin and Nuncio’s felt like his face was on fire.

“Blessing of the Wild upon you both.” Sal said: “Now go.”