The Bloodhunter's Catch

1.2

The gentle, yet oh so pressing, sent of iron snuck through the nose as soon as she placed a foot inside the unimpressive archway. The sent, that always caused an involuntary frown, also carried an unmistakable feeling of fear, but also a knowledge of clinging coins. Tonight she'd be well paid, that much she knew. It wasn't anyone ordinary she had drained this night. She could feel it in her entire body. His blood had given her more than she could hope for, and that was before the reward was collected. An evening out of the ordinary was a nice and very careful way to put it. The time had passed way to fast in her opinion and even though the night was still young, she had realized she didn't have much time to make the delivery. Now the hope was that she didn't receive too many questions. 

Bloodtrade was a buisness that wasn't exactly free of dangers. However, it was also as lucrative as it was forbidden. Besides, this trade had some very special perks and goods. Her entire adult life, she had been doing this, and she had considered herself an adult since she was twelve. Now a days she was one of the best bloodhunters in Blackborg. Perhaps the very best. A continuously growing reserve of skills and abilities, primarily small leftovers from previous blooddeliveries, done over many years, helped the work quite well. She always had some spare powers or skills to draw from if the misson turned out to be more difficult than first assumed. 

The trade with blood, that had followed after the knowledge of bloodburning, had officially been illegalized by the same royal stroke of the pen that had put a stopper to using bloddburning as a punishing method. But, even though it was the end of the legal bloodburning of every criminal sentenced, it didn't mean that the bloodtrading had ended.  The contrary actually. And the reason was obvious. There were too many that enjoyed other people's blood. The desire of feeling the pleasure of being something more and stronger than they really are, if only for a couple of minutes, knew no bounds, her father had told her, and he had done so more than once. Everyone wants the experience, the skills and the pleasure they couldn't get, Erla. Therefore there will always be room for someone that can offer the prohibited. And so it had become. She gathered blood and sold it on to someone else. Theoretically nothing too difficult, but when what you do is illegal and viewed as tempering with the great Goddess' creation, it immediately gets a bit more complicated than if you buy or sell eggs, grain or bread, to put it that way. Yet the laws weren't the biggest threat against the buisness. People with power were way too easy to buy with the same pleasures they were supposed to stop, for it to be a problem. It was the priesthood that was the real threat. Those who weren't so engaged with the fact that what she did was illegal, but rather immoral and going against the Goddess' fundamental will. For all she knew the priests were right, and in a way she could understand them. If they really meant there was and ubiquitous Goddess, that had created the world in her image, there was no doubt that bloodburning and the trading with the burnt blood was a desecration of her work. Believing or not, and named after the Goddess or not, she was trapped in this life and this buisness anyway. This was what she could do, nothing else. 

So now she was back. Not even this time, after all these visits, was she able to not frown at the smell in here. The little twitch in her face was really the only cute feature about her, and it came just as sure when she walked in to him as if he could know she would have nice goods to offer. It was always like that. She was simply reliable as a blooddeliverer. This time however something was different. He saw it right away. Something in her eyes told him a different story than what it used to be. And without knowing it he felt a sting of jealousy. She had it with a man! Without a doubt someone that had put an imprint on her. The thought was definitely harder to swallow than wanted. Completely involuntary his hand went up to the heart- side of his chest, as if chasing an itch that had yet to surface. 

"And you're sure you want to give him away?" 

The question was so direct that there was no need for games this time. Not the usual, apparently hesitating, game that sealed the deal. He had understood that this one was special. Well, then at least the payment would be satisfying, she thought. 

"Absolutely. No man is so special that I won't give him to you, Dorn" 

She held his gaze, wanting to see a reaction that said the joke had found its target. Disappointed she determined that he today had put on the buisness mask.  

"So what do you have for me? And for what prize?" 

New disappointment. And she felt how strongly she missed the little game they would always play when she came here. Where both tried to hide what they thought was lying underneath, and where both knew they failed. 

"This is rare goods. You that are a man should have tried him. Perhaps you'd finally understand how much you're missing by not being of..." She hesitated. Unsure of how much she really wanted to say. "Royal blood" 

Then he was no longer untouched. Now there was something determined and impatient that drew itself in his eyes, over the tight mouth. 

"Who?"

"Prince Lirgan in his almighty self. it is really true what they say you know. They are something. I can feel it in my entire..." 

"How long have you been going with him?" 

"Since he fell asleep before the light-ignition, no more than a couple of hours" 

"So I have no time to loose. Are you ready?" 

She nodded silently. She didn't like this fast buisnessorientated version of him. At the same time she understood better than anyone what this was worth.

"A thousand, not a dime less."

"Deal! Just get ready back there and I'll be there in a minute" 

He agreed to early. There was no way this would be worth a thousand units. On the other hand: It isn't everyday I can get my hands on blue blood either, he thought and he felt that it wasn't just the sales-value that aroused him now. Even though every drop of the royal blood would bring good opportunities for yielding, he knew just as well as her, that he'd keep a little bit of the blood for his own enjoyment. 

When the gate in the archway was  safely locked and he walked to the backroom, she was already laying ready. Only the most private was covered and as usual she let him choose where she'd be drained from. His gaze calmly wandered over her body, as always with something more than a professional interest. Does she know what I see when she's laying there? He assumed so. She was sharper than most of the people that came by him, and even though he didn't know what method's she used as a hunter, it was easy to speculate. A woman of her casting, had way more funds at her disposal than all men in this buisness. 

"Right arm" he said. Not a question, but not an order either. He always thought it is easiest to pick the most safe, the least intimate, she thought, nodded silently and closed her eyes. 
With steady hands he got to work. Two needles, the tube connected to the piston and the burner. The familiar sounds told her everything. As usual she dreaded the stinging sensation of the warm blood that was going to go back in her body. Oddly enough it was something she never quite managed to escape. The pain wasn't strong, and she wondered if it really was mostly in her head. 

Even though he was controlled in everything he did, she could feel the weak tremor in her body. Every point he touched with his hands and fingers left a faint and welcome warmth. A sensation she did everything she could for it to last. Then came the sound of the burner being lit followed by to small stings in her right arm. The creaking of the crank handle that drove the pump was calming to her. It was familiar and dear. Still with her eyes closed she waited for the starting emptiness that would come when the outsiders blood slowly but surely would be separated from her own. It was never a good feeling to loose abilities you appreciated, that you had felt and knew soon would be lost. And this time it would be even worse, she thought. Cause what I've had in me now, I will always be drawn to having more of. The clairvoyance, the strength, the feeling of... No, it can't be right. Those abilities just do not exist. Still, the prince's blood had given her the feeling that death couldn't get her...

Then she flinched. For a brief moment she was close to opening her eyes as if to see if it really was true or just her imagination. But she pulled herself together and let herself sink back into the peace and quiet. 
He saw how she had flinched when he took her hand in his. The grip had been gentle, but still firm. Dorn tried to convince himself he did it to give her the calmness to let go. Better than most he knew how hard it could be to say goodbye to good blood. At the same time he knew it wasn't compassion for her, just his own desires and dreams that controlled this specific action.