We're traveling southwest, back into my country, with the goal of slaughtering more people no doubt. The army moves in one long line like a snake. There are around forty men on horseback, and the rest go by foot on either side of us. They've brought humans along too, at least thirty, to supply their endless need for blood.

It's odd being dressed as one of them. I hope the humans forced along with us don't think I'm a traitor, though the idea of a human enlisted in the vampire military is laughable.

"Ya' Lord Rahlan?" asks the ginger-haired soldier beside us. My eyes are drawn to the large axe on his belt. With his stout build, I bet he could cut a shield in half with that thing.

"Indeed, I am, Sir...?" Rahlan asks.

"Ohan," the soldier introduces himself. "So why don't ya' let me share your horse instead of the slave girl?"

Slave girl. That's what they think when they see me.

"She needs to stay clean of mud, unless you'd prefer to keep me warm in bed?" Rahlan says, earning a chuckle from the gray-haired vampire behind us.

"Well," Ohan taps his chubby chest, "I'm real soft, I'd say."

Two men on one horse would probably overburden the poor thing. "I don't think Mittens could handle the extra weight," I add.

Ohan's eyes narrow, and the others chuckle.

"Even the human can see it Ohan," the gray-haired vampire says, "You've let yourself go."

I meant the weight of two intimidatingly tall soldiers, but they move on before I have a chance to explain myself.

"Ya' wouldn't happen to be the same Lord Rahlan who spearheaded the battle of Aldon?" Ohan asks.

"I am."

"'Tis a pleasure to meet ya, sir," Ohan says. "But I'd wager I'd beat ya' one-on-one."

"Five Prymni?" Rahlan offers his hand to shake, and Ohan seals the deal.

"What kind of a name is Mittens? Did you mean to buy a cat and end up with a horse?" Ohan asks.

"His feet look like they're in white mittens," I say.

"He does not go by Mittens," Rahlan says.

"Then what's his name?" Ohan asks.

"'Tis..." he trails off, not yet having thought about it.

"Slippers fits too," I interject.

"The fearsome Lord Rahlan, and his mighty steed, Slippers," the grey-haired vampire says, followed by murmured chuckles from the others.

"Be silent," Rahlan says, ruffling my hair with one hand. "You're damaging my reputation."

"That's a chatty little human you caught there," the grey-haired one says.

"'Tis true. She's odd."

"I'm Julia," I introduce myself to stop them talking about me like I'm not here.

The grey-haired vampire raises an eyebrow before giving his name, "Theron."

We travel for hours without pause. For the first time since I've been taken, I'm heading towards my brother instead of away from him. When the chaos of battle hits, I'll slip away.

I lean back against Rahlan's chest. His iron arms on either side of me eliminate the risk of falling, and they ensure that other vampires stay a healthy distance away from my neck. It's like being encased in a protective cocoon.

* * * * * * * *

I awake to Rahlan stroking my arm. It's evening, and the line of men has compressed into one big clump.

"You awake?" he asks.

"Mmhmm," I nod with a yawn. I didn't mean to fall asleep, but these new clothes are warm and sport a thick layer of padding. Combined with Rahlan's morning drink, Mitten's rhythmic rocking was more than enough to put me under.

After making sure I'm awake enough to keep myself upright, Rahlan jumps off Mittens. He puts his hands under my arms and lifts me up off him, placing me on the wet grass.

He ties Mitten's halter to a tree and joins a nearby group of men in hoisting up a large tent. They're popping up all around us. We're in the dead center of the camp. I bet he chose the middle to make it harder for me to slip away unnoticed.

He looks like he's done this a thousand times before, whereas I'm standing here like a lost dog. Bulky vampires brush past me from every direction. I try stay small and out of their way. As ironic as it sounds, I'd feel a lot less anxious if there was a rope tying me in place, like Mittens. Not that having my movement restricted makes me feel better, but it's a clear signal to other vampires that I am where I'm supposed to be, and hence am to be left alone.

But on the other hand, a tether would make me appear subhuman, or subvampire in this case. The last thing I need is further reason for them to look down on me. I square my shoulders and harden my expression. I need to show that I belong here, in the middle of a vampire camp, unsupervised. This is the level of autonomy I'm used to.

"We bring fresh boar!" a vampire shouts at the edge of the camp. He's one of around twenty men carrying dead pigs like handbags. Hunting dogs stand proud by their sides. The camp cheers, no doubt hungry after a long day of walking.

Soon there are fires blazing, with the pigs roasting on spits. Breaking out of the fire's trance, I turn to find Rahlan missing.

I hurry over to the tent he was building. It's complete, and he's vanished.

I scan the camp. Tons of vampires, but where's my vampire? I wouldn't be so worried about being separated if I wasn't surrounded by a horde of blood sucking murderers.

A cape in my peripheral vision catches my attention. I hurry in that direction. "Lord Rahlan?" I call, but the caped figure doesn't respond. Getting closer reveals that this man has blonde hair, and his cape flaunts a gold pattern, different from Rahlan's maroon one. It's not him.

I should get back to Mittens.

But where is Mittens? It's dark, and there's so much activity around me that it feels like I'm the shortest person in this whole camp. I head back in the direction I came, but before I know it, I reach the edge of the camp. No Mittens. No Rahlan.

A menacing looking brown-haired vampire is staring in my direction. He approaches, his gaze locked on me. My stomach does a flip. I'm at the perimeter, at night, looking out like I'm trying to escape.

I spin around and bounce face-first off a hulking figure, falling flat on my butt.

"Julia?" the figure booms. It's Ohan.

"Where ya' going?" he tilts his head.

I gulp. He thinks I insulted him before.

"Ya' lost?"

My stomach does another summersault. I'm on my own, and I'm a slave in his eyes, in everyone's eyes. He could take revenge on me, and no one would lift a finger to stop him. There are no laws to protect me here.

"Don't be scared child. We'll find Rahlan in no time." He smiles and offers his hand.

I stay frozen, staring at his palm. He doesn't seem to be holding a grudge.

I cautiously take his hand, and he helps me to my feet. He pushes through the camp, keeping my hand encased in his rough fingers, almost pulling my arm out of its socket. What if it's an act? What if he's taking me somewhere private to kill me in secret?

My stomach twists up at the thought. I pull against his grip, digging my feet into the ground.

He doesn't even acknowledge my struggling, forcing me to follow him to the fires. The fires. He's going to burn my hand.