The Madman of the Woods | ONC 2024 Shortlist | Vampire Romantasy | Supernatural

3 Interrogation

Lailoken awoke with a throbbing headache and a dry throat. He was lying facedown on a cushioned seat of a strange carriage that purred like a content beast. He didn't have much space to move to get comfortable or see what was going on. His throat burned with the aftertaste of the foul blood, effects of which were wearing off, but not fast enough. He faintly remembered sinking his fangs into a man's neck, or two, or four, but he must have been overtaken by the fog because the details were hard to recall.

"You wouldn't happen to have a sack of water nearby?" he asked the person he couldn't see but whose heartbeat he could hear nearby. "I'm parched."

"Haven't you drank enough?" the woman asked. Her voice was laced with disdain.

"I need to flush it down," he complained. The woman didn't respond or offer water, as if she didn't care about his distress. "Sneaky trees," he thought out loud. "They used me. If at least the blood were better, I wouldn't mind but... yuck."

"What are you mumbling about?" the woman asked.

He groaned, growing annoyed with his uncomfortable position. The more he tried to get up the clearer it became that his immobility wasn't due to the effects of the blood. "Am I tied down? I can't move."

She scoffed. "Genius."

Lailoken strained at the chains binding him, but they wouldn't budge.

She added, "Don't bother. No vampire can break those."

She knew what he was. In that case, there was no need to pretend. He stopped fighting and focused all his energy on his fog. Though the blood was foul, it strengthened him sufficiently, and the transition was as easy as breathing. His body dispersed into fog and solidified on the seat next to the woman, leaving the chains behind.

The process took only a few seconds, and it gave her a scare. She screamed, seeing him next to her, and their carriage ground to a sudden halt with a screech.

"Sorry for frightening you," he said. "It was really uncomfortable back there. I don't see horses. Does this carriage run on magic? Are you a witch?"

She stared at him in bewilderment, her lower lip quivering. She was peculiar and unlike any witch he'd ever met. Her hair was short. She dressed as a man in trousers and a leather coat, but her bust was clearly feminine. There was a prominent scar above her lip and more scars adorned her hands gripping the wheel. A female warrior, then.

Lailoken curiously looked around, noting how there was a window on all four sides of the carriage, allowing a complete view of their surroundings. They were traveling down a black road, like the one he'd encountered earlier, toward the glow of a town on the horizon.

"How come the front window is broken?" he asked

She choked out a nervous laugh, which turned into a grimace. "Because you dropped a dead body on it."

"Oh, sorry about that. So, where are we going?"

She narrowed her eyes on him. "How did you get out of the chains?"

He looked back at the seat where thick silver chains lay. "Fog," he stated.

"Fog," she repeated, then gasped. "You're a shapeshifter?"

He shrugged, playing humble, but he knew it was a rare ability. Vampires who could change form usually shifted into another living being or simply changed their appearance. He'd never met another who could turn into a fog, but he'd heard of similar abilities, like turning into water or shadow travel.

She stared up at him with wide brown eyes. "I wonder if that's how she avoids detection. Are you her teacher or a student?" She added with a raised eyebrow, "Or a lover?"

"Whose?"

Her lips curled in disgust as she spat out, "Banshee."

Lailoken frowned, trying to dust off his hazy memories. "I don't think I've ever bed a banshee before. They're not very romantic types—all that wailing, you know. Oh, I apologize. I haven't introduced myself. I'm Lailoken, The Wild One, or The Madman of the Woods, depending on whom you ask." He offered her a hand palm up, ready to kiss hers as a show of good manners.

She looked at it for a moment, hesitating, then, she gripped his hand tightly with no intention of letting him kiss it. "Josephine Seolta, but call me Josie."

"Pleasure. Where are we going, Josie?"

She stared at him some more, still holding his hand, like she was trying to decide if she could trust him.

He added, "If you're concerned about your safety, I assure you, my bloodlust is under control now. I've had my fill."

"You don't say."

Her unabashed demeanor gave him a pause. He looked her over, thinking that he shouldn't make assumptions just because she was a woman. She looked like she could handle a physical job. "You're not one of those people who were cutting down the forest, right?"

It was his turn to pierce her with a judging stare, and no one could stare like a vampire could. Despite firm willpower, she seemed unable to handle his intensity and looked away. "I'm not. I was there only to ask them about The Banshee. Do you happen to know her?"

For some reason, he believed her, at least for the moment. He would keep an eye on her, though. "Which banshee?"

"I don't mean a banshee. I mean the vampire who's known as The Banshee."

"That's absurd. Why would a vampire call herself that?"

"Your guess is as good as mine."

"I don't know The Banshee." He sighed, growing tired of the interrogation. He yearned to discover how the world had changed over the years. That was always his favorite thing to do after he'd awoken. "Are we going into town? I'm looking forward to seeing it."

She paused, thinking with narrowed eyes. "You seemed unwell, which is why I was planning on bringing you to... my coven to get you help. Sorry about the chains. It was a precaution."

He grinned. "Thank you. That's so thoughtful. The foul blood affected me, but I'm all better now."

She smiled back. "You should come and see our coven anyway. Everyone will be so excited to meet you."

"Why, thank you. I'd love to."

She magicked the carriage to move, and they rode onward to their new adventure.