Hadiin

He came out of the restaurant and his unexpected meeting feeling dazed and confused, guilty and nervous. 

“Best deposit that in the bank before someone takes it,” Weesely warned as they’d left the building. “And remember: my house, one in the afternoon tomorrow. I look forward to seeing your next bit of genius.”

“Right.”

“Don’t be late. I hate when people are late.” He turned and departed, his men in tow. 

The platinum coins burned a hole in his pocket. He felt rich. He felt dirty. He was elated. He also felt like scum. How did people deal with such contradictions in their emotions?

That was easy. People like Weesely and the corporate sharks back home probably didn’t feel things like guilt. 

He made it about sixteen steps before a pair of delicate hands snatched him off the street and bodily dragged him into a crevice between two buildings, deep in shadows. “C-Cat?” he breathed.

Drinking his blood must have caused her vampire powers to kick in because her grip was like steel. Her face was so close to his that all he could really see was her bright red eyes and needle-sharp fangs. “You’re dealing with the trash that tried to kill you. Are you insane?”

“It was a lot of money,” he lamely replied. 

Her expression twisted with scorn. “I can’t believe that this is who you really are. I was so wrong about you.”

“Cat—“

“You know what I am. To protect myself, I should drain you dry and leave your corpse in the gutter where you belong.”

“Cat, please. I’m sorry. I would never betray you.“

She looked at him like he was stupid. “You already did.” Her lips curled and she prepared to sink her teeth into him and end his life. But she hesitated and then shoved him away from her. You disgust me. If you ever so much as hint of my existence to your tacky new ‘partner’ I’ll end your life.”

“Cat, wait—!” he reached for her. 

But with supernatural speed, she sped away and exited the crack between the buildings. 

The woman who’d been with her earlier handed Cat the giant, white hat, glared at Hadiin the one glares at poo on the bottom of your shoe, and followed Cat as they departed. 

Hadiin put his back to the brick wall next to him and leaned against the edifice. He sighed. He felt terrible about himself. 

Pulling the platinum out, he stared at the silver. It didn’t sparkle here in the deep shade. It just looked like any old silvery metal. Though they did have a pleasing weight to them. 

He could do so much with this. Certainly, he had enough to live very well. Association with Weesely was fraught with danger but also with promise. So why was he doubting himself and this future? Isn’t this what he wanted? Why did it matter how he succeeded as long as he succeeded? This is just how the game was played, right?

So why was he so miserable?

Crawling out of the gap, he emerged onto the street once more. It was a short journey to the guild. 

“And how much are you depositing?” the clerk at the banking desk asked when he arrived. 

He pulled the coins out once more and put them on the counter. 

“Wow. I see. Five platinum.” She reached for them.

“No.” He retracted two. Then he pushed two to one side and the third one he pushed towards her. “Can you split this into gold, please? I’ll be depositing two and a half.”

“Certainly. One moment.” She reached for a tray of coins under the counter. 

A voice in his mind was screaming at him. What are you doing, you fool? This is crazy. You’re throwing away the opportunity of a lifetime. 

But another, slightly stronger voice, approved. 

“Here you are, sir.” The clerk handed him fifty gold and took two platinum coins for his account. 

“Do you…” He floundered for what to say. “I met someone earlier. White dress, big white hat. Long, black hair. Carried a fan. She seemed like a lady or someone important. You wouldn’t happen to know anyone like that, would you?”

The clerk hesitated. “I think perhaps I might know the individual. But we really shouldn’t give out personal information.”

“Right. Sorry. Of course. Well, could you…contact them somehow? If I wrote a letter, could you deliver it?”

“We can. But I cannot give you the name of the individual.”

“Of course. I understand.”

He borrowed paper, quill and inkwell and wrote his very first letter with such things. It was a novel experience. 

Lady, (sorry, I don’t know how to address this)

I have made a terrible mistake. I was weak and gave into temptation. But I have come to my senses. I am, even now, going to return the funds and turn down the offer you-know-who made. I hope that you will give me the opportunity to make up for my foolishness. 

I’m at the Klampet Rooms and Stables. I hope to hear from you.

Sincerely regretful,

Hadiin

He judged that nothing in the note would give anything away should someone at the guild peek at it. Hopefully, he’d hear back from her.

For future reference, one cannot fit fifty gold coins in your pockets. Just trying almost pulled his pants down. He had to buy a large coin purse at the guild shop to hold it all. It was quite heavy. And he felt vulnerable walking around with so much cash on him. Best to get rid of it fast. Besides, he was scared of confronting Weesely about rejecting the man’s offer. Best to confront that fear head on and get it over with. 

He’d gotten the address at the restaurant. Finding the place was easy enough as there weren’t many estates as large as his and, when he asked others in the streets for directions, people were quick to point him where he needed to go. 

The Weesely mansion was two and a half stories and built with pale stone. A tight circle of narrow evergreen trees ran around the edge of the property, just outside a tall, iron fence with an ornate gate decorated with designs of weapons. Stone wyverns graced the posts on each side of the gate. 

A man in half-plate came out of a guardhouse on the other side of the fence. “Can I help you?’ he asked, not looking particularly welcoming. 

“I’m here to see Weesely,” Hadiin told him, realizing that he didn’t even know the man’s first name. 

The guard was gruff. “What’s this about?”

“I’ve come to turn down his offer. And return his money.”

The guard started to laugh, then turned it into a cough. He tried to suppress a smile. “I don’t know what this is about but are you sure you want to do that?”

“Yes.”

The guard glanced at the house. His expression turned doubtful, though it was still amused. “That sort of thing doesn’t typically go over well, you know? Might want to seriously reconsider. He has a habit of…reacting poorly to people who cross him or don’t give him what he wants.”

“I—“

“I would shove off. Seriously. I’m doin’ you a favour here, pal. Reconsider.”

Hadiin felt his nerves trembling but forced himself to remain calm. “I’ll just leave the gold with you then and you can tell him.” He made to put the money in front of the gate. 

The guard sighed, like he was dealing with an idiot. And maybe he was. “Hold yer horses. All right, ’s yer funeral. Wait here.” He turned and strode up to the house. 

A quick knock and the door was answered by a butler and a message taken. The butler returned in a couple of minutes and the guard came back to the gate with a message. 

He unlocked the gate and swung it open. “Go on in. He’ll see you.”

Hadiin froze. He looked up at the front door, the butler waiting in his black uniform. From the street, it seemed innocuous, but, on second thought, going inside seemed like it might be even more foolish than what he was already doing. “Actually, I think I’ll just leave the money here and go. I’m not going in.”

The guard frowned. “He’d not going to like that.”

“Maybe. If he wants to come out here and talk in public, with witnesses, that’s fine. But I’m not going in there alone.”

“Hmm. Maybe not as dumb as you look, pal. Wait here.” The guard returned to the house, messages were passed, and, shortly, Weesely himself appeared. 

He did not look happy, a frown already etched into his features, his lips pressed. He stared at Hadiin from the front door, then slowly made his way down the steps and the walkway to the gate. He eyed the coin purse in Hadiin’s hands. “I thought I told you to deposit that.”

“I did,” Hadiin replied, working to keep his voice steady. “Half of it. That’s how much the assassin took. Figure that much was owed. But this is the rest.”

Weesely’s eyes narrowed. There was none of his earlier friendliness or charm. “You seem to be making a dangerous mistake. We have a deal.”

“No. We don’t. I’ve reconsidered.”

“You took the money.”

“I’m returning it.”

“I didn’t give you that option.”

“I don’t think you have a choice. It’s my future, not yours. And I’ve decided that I’d rather work on my own for now. I apologize for the inconvenience.”

“Listen here.” Weesely glanced up and down the street before stepping forward and planting himself directly in front of Hadiin, looming over the smaller man. His voice took an unpleasant edge. “You take that money and you get out of here. You show up tomorrow with the right ideas, things I wanna hear. You do that and we won’t have so much of a problem. You keep up this crap and you’re going to regret it.”

“No.”

“I own you now. Do as you’re told.”

He gritted his teeth. “I have no interest in ever being anyone’s slave, ever again.”

Weesely frowned at that. “You got lucky once, so no doubt you think you’ll get lucky again. But I promise you, you can just as easily get unlucky a second time as well. The world of commerce can be really…cutthroat.”

Intense feelings burned in Hadiin. He thought of his past as a corporate slave. He thought of how he’d failed Marian and Cat. He ignored the physical danger and threats and glared at the unsavoury, so-called businessman in front of him. “I’ve been an underling before. I have absolutely no intention of ever being anyone’s tool again. I will make my own fortune, carve my own future, not let someone else get rich of my work. And I won’t betray my friends just to get rich.” Hadiin hesitated but then thrust the purse at the other man. “Sorry, but—“

Weesely landed a swift uppercut on the bottom of Hadiin’s jaw and it was lights out. 

💰

In stupid movies, people get knocked out and wake up hours later in some other location. That doesn’t happen in real life. Getting knocked out for more than ten or twenty seconds would indicate brain damage. So Hadiin woke up fairly quickly after the surprise punch. 

He was being hauled into the backyard of the mansion by two goons. Despite his fuzzy-headed struggle, they took him to a statue, surrounded by bushes, of a male adventurer slaying a dragon. It was most likely supposed to be Weesely, but before he had the belly he now did. Whether the man had actually killed a dragon seemed unlikely. Maybe the image was of him fighting one before running away. Not to imply the man wasn’t dangerous. He looked a step or two up from the thugs he hired. 

The base of the monument was a large block with vertical lines carved in the sides, most likely to hide the secret door in the rear. They dragged him down a flight of stone steps into some kind of underground jail. The pair holding him threw him into a cell and slammed the metal door shut with a clang and the clunk of a lock turning. The goons retreated. 

Hadiin was humiliated. He looked around, feeling like he’d screwed up worse than ever. 

The cellar looked to be a newly-constructed dungeon of some kind. Dim light came from a single lantern hanging in the center of the room above some tools that appeared to be recently in use, their owner having perhaps just stepped away. The air smelled of sawdust and metalworking and stone dust. Indeed, the cell he was in seemed as if it had been built only today. A wooden seat over a hole in the corner looked fresh, as did the thin wooden slab of a bed, the wood still light where it had been sawed and the edges rough rather than sanded or worn with age. 

The sides of the cells were iron bars, allowing one to see around the entire room. He could see similar cages around him, perhaps a dozen? Each was quite small, with barely enough room to lie down in. The rear wall of the cell was cold stone. He was the only ‘guest’. 

He sat on the bed and thought morose thoughts. All optimism had fled the moment he’d woken up from being struck. He was in huge trouble and all he could do was wait for it and suffer. 

Was he going to die down here?

Hours must have passed before a very jolly Weesely came down some stone steps and into the dungeon, an evil look of gleeful triumph on his face. “I don’t know if you have balls of steel or if you’re actually completely stupid.”

Hadiin was already feeling like it was mostly the latter. His earlier defiance had melted away. “Why am I here?”

Weesely chuckled. “Seriously? Yer smart, right? You have two options.”

“Work for you or die?” Hadiin guessed.

“See? Got some brains after all. So? What’ll it be?”

He couldn’t bring himself to answer. But what choice did he really have?

At the lack of answer, Weesely just shrugged. “Go ahead and think on it. I’m in no rush. Don’t think I’m going to bother sending down food and water though. So I wouldn’t think too long. If you’re intent on dying, I’m sure a blade across your throat would be much less painful than dehydration.” He made a flippant wave and sauntered off. 

Hadiin sank back against the wall, trying to ignore the chill. Alone in the cell, he quickly fell into the self loathing that had consumed him after the assassination attempt and theft. 

To his credit, it didn’t last nearly as long this time nor did he fall into it nearly as deeply. He didn’t want to make the same mistake that he had with Marian and let his negative feelings get the better of him. Instead, he had to figure out a plan. 

Hours passed and Weesely had been true to his word: no one came down into the shiny, new dungeon to deliver food or water. Hadiin was also forced to use the recently dug hole in the corner of the cell. He was left entirely to himself. 

Somehow, he actually managed to drift off. 

💰

A sharp and painful jab woke him up sometime later. He jerked back into reality to find a tiny dagger falling out of his thigh.

“Ow!” he gasped. The dagger hit the stone floor with a small clank.

“Shh!”

He looked up to find a pretty but very irritated vampire woman in her thieving clothes staring back at him. “Cat?” He gaped.

“What the hell are you doing in here?” she spat in a hushed and nervous voice. She glanced over her shoulder, then shook her head at him. “Forget it. Later.” Very gently, she eased the door open, wary of any squeak. But with fresh grease from being just built, the door was soundless. 

Hadiin’s mind was slow with shock as he shuffled off of the bed to stand. “If the door’s open, why did you throw a dagger at me to wake me up?”

The woman’s eyes narrowed and she flashed her fangs. “Because I thought I might actually stab you if I got any closer with a sharp object.”

“Right. Fair enough. I deserve that.”

She frowned at him. 

He swallowed. “I screwed up. I’m sorry, Cat. It was stupid and wrong and I hate myself for it. I should have stuck with you and told that guy to piss off the moment I saw him.”

She didn’t seem moved by his apology. The irritation and nervousness remained. “Words later,” she hissed. “Let’s get out of here before we’re caught and killed.” 

They emerged in Weesely’s garden. It was night and overcast, the garden heavily shadowed as there were no lights on even in the large house.  

One of Weesely’s mercenaries lay outside the secret door in the shrubbery ringing the monument. He’d been bitten in the throat and blood stained the front of his chest and belly. For the moment though, his chest still rose up and down.

Cat led him directly to the nearest fence and boosted his clumsy self up and over before effortlessly scaling the iron railings as if she weighed nothing. Then they ran for it, down dark streets, keeping to the edges. She took a winding path all over town before finally ending up at a different inn from where Hadiin had stayed before. 

“Can’t go back to the other inn tonight,” she explained in a whisper. “They’ll think to look for you there when they find you gone.”

They climbed onto the roof of the butcher shop next to the inn and then scaled a bit of the wall in order to climb into a room she told him that she’d already rented on the second floor. Only when they were safe inside, window closed and curtains drawn, did she start to relax. Relax being a relative term.

With vampire strength, she shoved him hard at the bed, sending him tumbling into the covers. “What the hell were you thinking?” she snapped. 

“I wasn’t.” He righted himself. She was strong. “He didn’t give me any choice, just dragged me lunch. When he made the offer and put the money in front of me…”

“So you couldn’t say no to the money.”

“I’m truly sorry. I knew the risks and consequences and I couldn’t help myself. But I reconsidered almost immediately. I didn’t want to lose you over this. I’m so very sorry I hurt you. I hope you’ll give me a chance to make it up to you.”

She no doubt wanted to yell at him some more, and maybe he should have given her the chance. But his words seemed to take some of the angry wind out of her sails and she deflated a tiny bit. Still glaring, she grumbled sourly. “You’re so lucky that I was able to find you. And thrice lucky that I was able to discover that place and break in. It wasn’t easy!”

“I guess you’re better than you thought?” he suggested.

She smirked. “And you’re even luckier that I levelled up in the attempt.” Catching herself, she suppressed the smirk and frowned again. “But I’m still pissed off.”

“You deserve to be. I made a mistake.”

“Yes, well. It had better not be a habit. You made a massive blunder with your ex and that gold, almost getting you both killed. I had my doubts but took a chance on you anyway. But after this, I am seriously reconsidering whether I should have anything to do with you.  I have a hard time believing you can be trusted. What if someone else puts even more gold in front of you? How much would it take to sell me out, hmm?”

He hung his head, ashamed.

“Plus, you’ve pissed the Weasel off twice now and he’ll be head hunting. I don’t want to be around when his hired assassins come calling.”

“It would probably be a good idea to keep a low profile,” he admitted. “Especially since I found out about that hidden dungeon. That doesn’t seem like something a normal person would have in their backyard.”

She stared at him. “So why didn’t you? Work for him.”

“I didn’t want to lose you. Or Marian.”

“Maybe you already have. I’m only here because I didn’t want your death on my conscience.”

“It’s a good thing my new friend is an amazing thief, eh?”

Her brows rose. “We’re not friends.”

“Maybe not yet. But I’ll keep working on it. I promise.”

“Hmph. Whatever.” She turned to the window.

“Feel free to drink your fill before you go?” he offered.

“I already have.”

“You sure?”

She paused with her hand on the window. “Hmm. I suppose a good, long drink might make me feel a little better.” She licked her lips. She hadn’t taken the time to colour them tonight, nor had she drunk any blood yet, which was perhaps why they had a dark bluish-purple tinge to them. 

Further conversation was impossible as she pinned him to the bed, licked his neck with her long tongue, and sank her fangs deep into him. A hungry predator, she rode his body and guzzled his life force. 

Lightheaded and slow of thought, he stared up at her as she pulled back, his blood dripping off her lips and chin. She seemed warmer, more alive, her red eyes vibrant. And for the first time, she smiled. “Who would have thought I’d come to love the taste of fresh blood this much?”

He mumbled something incoherent. 

She wiped the blood off her chin with a finger and licked it clean. “I guess that buys you a night of forgiveness. I’m off to prowl. Try not to get yourself killed while I’m gone. I might want to drink you for breakfast too.”

“Better steal a regen potion then.”

“Ha. Do you have any idea how much security alchemists have? Also, they’re crazy, the lot of them. Only an idiot would try to rob an alchemist. Probably melt you if you tried.” She turned for the window to make her exit.

“Cat?”

The vampire looked over her shoulder. 

“Thank you. I mean it. For saving me. For giving me a chance in the first place yesterday. Thank you. I hope…you and I…”

She hesitated, then looked away and peeked out the curtains, looking for trouble. “Next time, I won’t be nearly as forgiving.”

“There won’t be a next time.” He’d work hard on that.

“Hmm.” It was a noncommital answer. But he hadn’t given her a reason to believe him or trust him again yet. Then she was out the window and gone into the night.