Little Fighter (The Lost Boys)

Chapter Ten: Old Man

Lying on a nest of pillows Sarah looked years younger than sixteen. The delicate innocence that had drawn both Max and the old Master to her was plain to see. There was only one thing that marred the image of her youthful frailty. There were dark bruise-like rings under her eyes and her unnaturally pale complexion that had intensified more so after the events of that night.

Marking was always a strenuous ritual on both the master and fledgling vampire. It took time before both vampires fully recovered. The aftereffects were typically felt for a few days as the body adjusted to the new bond that was forged. Once set it was nigh impossible to break.

That was why in vampire society the fledgling trade was considered to be the most influential way a vampire could achieve rank and title as well as new territory. Alliances were created between vampires while territorial borders were adjusted in order to comply with the terms that were negotiated.

Blood never lies. Blood always binds.

Lucard remained silent as he watched Sarah. After a time he reached over and gently brushed away a few strands of her hair from her face. As he did so the girl reacted to his touch.

Already the sacred bond between them was growing in strength. This was a good sign. It offered a fleeting feeling that the old vampire regarded as hope.

He waited patiently as Sarah slowly joined him in the realm of the undead.

Sarah groaned when she opened her eyes and quickly shut them. Even though the room was completely dark her eyes stung, dry and irritated. A powerful wave of nausea swept over her and she gagged into a pillow next to her head.

"It is all right." Lucard murmured softly as he took a white linen handkerchief from his pocket and gently wiped away the streak of blood that was coughed up.

She winced at his touch but did not shy from his hand. Her entire body felt out of sorts and impossibly heavy. As if her limbs had somehow atrophied or turned to lead.

Everything hurt. Every inch of her from the ends of her hair to the bottom of her feet. It was unbearable.

The heavy down filled duvet under her, the feather-filled pillows around her, even her clothes seemed to be the cause of discomfort. Sarah did not try to move because instinct told her that the soreness she felt would only intensify.

"Light..."

She wheezed weakly. Her teeth ached as she tried to articulate that one word. There was nothing but darkness in that bedroom. The bright gleam of Lucard's eyes irritated her own but there was nothing that could be done about it.

Lucard folded the bloodied handkerchief and placed it on the night-table.

"It is all right."

He reassured her once again and waited as Sarah struggled to open her eyes once more. The Master noted with a hint of satisfaction that her eyes almost glowed in the encompassing gloom. It was a sure sign of recovery.

The brighter the eyes the stronger the will to live.

Two of the other of Max's girls had not made it this far before they given up. They had wasted away in a matter of hours.

A single fat tear slowly trickled from the corner of her eye as Sarah forced herself to look up at the figure that towered over her. Prone and helpless she wanted to know why she was that way. But it hurt too much to speak.

She hissed in pain as the salty tear began to sting her skin. Lucard wiped it away with such care and gentleness as if she were a newborn infant.

The first hours were crucial in securing a fledgling's faith and loyalty to its new Master. Once the fledgling developed an imprinted dependency on the stronger vampire the bond formed would be unbreakable.