One night, after performing nearer the University, one of the most beautiful women Joshua had ever seen approached Nicholas and asked for an impromptu poem. He asked only for her name, and a word in return. She gave him both. Rose, and predator. Joshua bowed, and signaled the sleepy Nicholas to begin a beat on his drums. He closed his eyes, and let his mind wander to the beat of the drum, and the words began to flow from his heart, his soul, and his mouth. Rose seemed to zone out, her eyes almost glazing over, as he wove a story involving a rose, its petals, its thorns, and its victims. When the poem ended, her eyes were rimmed in red, and she seemed about to cry. She quickly folded a few bills and stuffed them into his father’s work hat. She whispered, again, seeming on the verge of tears, “Stay away from a man named Lord Welcomb. He will be your undoing if he gets his hands on you.” Then she rushed off, eyes darting all over the street.
A gasp from Nicholas brought Joshua’s mind and eyes back to the present. “What?” Joshua was completely unsure what kind of sense he could make out of the encounter.
“There’s over one hundred pounds here. This is room and board for several months, Joshua! You’ve got to find that woman and thank her!”
“I doubt she wants to be found, Nicholas. The way she ran off like that? she’s better off without us trying to search her down. You saw her clothes. You heard her accent. She’s obviously nobility, and us chasing her down would hurt more than help her situation. No, we’ll leave her alone. Plus, she tried to warn me about some Lord? Lord Welcomb. Bah. All of the nobility are looney.”
The next clear memory that Joshua has is waking up, seeing Nicholas’ broken body over his bed, held up by a bearded nobleman with a cane. The nobleman tossed Nicholas’ body onto the floor as if it was a rug, then turned his gaze to Joshua. “It was silly of him to attempt to attack me, even if it was to save your pathetic life, young Kine.” Joshua could only stammer, as light poured into the window and reflected off of the nobleman’s ivory white teeth, which included elongated canines. Fangs. Bloody hell. The next instant, the nobleman’s beard was scratching his neck as his fangs were entering it. Joshua’s body twitched as an unnatural pleasure shot from the wound and through his body. There was a darkness, then a red haze of animalistic anger and rage tore him back up from wherever he was floating into. He awoke, and clamped his jaws around the wrist that had been offered him. As so many tales have told in the past, it was like liquid fire. Appropriate pain, pleasure, and punishment in a neat little red package that he could not deny.