Chapter Two: Coming Down

Previously: Leila

 

Somewhere above her, a floorboard creaked. Elsewhere, someone began to cough and retch.

 

Sound and smell began to return, first in fragments, then in flood. The darkness faded; warmth gave way to cold. Alva was jolted awake, and it took several moments to remember where she was and what she was doing.

 

The Nord man was gone from her side. She was alone on in the room. Rising slowly, head throbbing, she drifted through the den, searching for something -- though she did not know what.

 

She passed a room where an old fat nobleman lay naked beneath a young peasant woman riding him at full gallop. His groans and gasps filled the room, along with the smacking of flesh. She, however, was silent as the grave.

 

In another room, there were two young women. One was passed out on a mattress, the other had her head in a bucket.

 

Room after room, Alva saw more of the same. Yet despite what she witnessed, she felt neither shock nor shame, only emptiness.

 

I need more blood. The dream wasn't finished. She wasn't ready to come out of the dark.

 

Leila, Colette, and Aurelian were each passed out in different rooms. Aurelian lay next to an older woman who pawed at his young body, sliding her wrinkled fingers beneath his Vigilant robes. Colette was alone, hugging a large cushion. Leila was lying next to what appeared to be a college student in mage robes.

 

Alva envied each of them. I need more blood. She loathed being awake while they were buoyed off to rapturous dreams.

 

She found the Bosmer woman at the front, counting coin with her brother.

 

"You," Alva pointed at Maereth, "bring me another."

 

The elf woman snorted. "There are no others fit for drinking. You'll have to wait 'til nightfall, when they come back."

 

Alva was about to retort when Maereth's brother interjected, "No, she doesn't." He turned to her. "We have a special mix just for vampires. Powdered blood and skooma. You can snort it straight -- no need to drink."

 

Alva paused, considering her options. If she drank from someone right now, she could kill them. If she attacked either of the Bosmers, she'd certainly kill them. Bodies were bad for business, and bad for her.

 

She briskly nodded without speaking, accepting the alternative.

 

"Ten septims," he told her. "Up front."

 

Alva had been collecting coin for months; she could afford it easily. Maereth took the coins and counted them quickly, before handing her a small blue-green vial made of glass.

 

"Just one puff," the dealer warned. "You want this stuff to last."

 

Alva took the vial and went back to her room. Laying against the cushions, she uncorked the vial, placed it against one nostril and took a deep sniff. The dried, powdered blood barely registered, but the concentrated skooma hit right away.

This time, the ceiling spun before fading into darkness. Alva didn't care. All that mattered was the dream.

 

***

 

Alva woke with a jolt to see Colette lightly shaking her.

 

"Already moved on to the powdered stuff?" the blond vampire chuckled. "You've got to slow down."

 

"I'd slow down if there was more to drink," Alva grumbled, scowling as she forced herself to sit upright.

 

"Normally, there is more to drink," Colette assured her. "You can move from room to room. But you have to be here at the right time. Most patrons don't come during the day." She took a seat nearby. "They have work, families, and all of that."

 

"I'm hungry," Alva reiterated with a scowl. "And it's fucking day time."

 

 "The Bosmers keep livestock on hand," Colette said. "For thirty septims, we can all share a goat or something."

 

"Thirty septims is a lot." Alva had coin, but not enough splurge that much on a single meal, to be shared with others no less.

 

"We all chip in," Colette said with a shrug. After a beat, she asked, "What do you dream about?"

 

Alva was visibly offended. "What do you dream about?"

 

The Breton replied simply, "My family. I miss the Reach."

 

"You miss your parents?"

 

"By the Nine, no," Colette chuckled. "My coven was my family. We lived in an abandoned temple high on a mountain... 'til the Forsworn came and burned us out." She looked down. "My sire died defending me, ensuring that I got out." After another pause she added, "I was the only one who did."

 

Alva didn't want to think about this. Her head was throbbing and the warm, numbing feeling of the dream was rapidly fading.

 

"Losing a whole coven is a special kind of pain," Colette went on, "but the skooma helps."

 

Alva's jaw tightened against the growing bile. "I know," she finally bit out. Her voice was low, half-dead. "I can still hear the screaming, smell the burning. A single Thalmor agent shouldn't have been able to rip right through us, but she did."

 

"How she'd she do it?"

 

"Daedric dagger. A single cut sets the victim on fire. It also didn't hurt that the Thalmor are apparently vicious warriors."

 

Colette shuddered in horror, wrapping her arms around herself. "Fuck the Nine."

 

Alva was bitter. "Indeed."

 

Colette looked up at her. "How did you survive such a thing?"

 

The back of Alva's eyes began to burn. "She spared me, so I could tell others. So that I can tell every vampire I meet about Indrathel, the Demon of Northwatch Keep."

 

***

 

Leila tossed a few coins to Maereth while her brother brought out a goat. Aurelian calmly took the creature aside, slit its throat with a dagger and held up over a pewter basin, letting the blood drain down. Alva heard something about "blessings" and "Stendarr" but didn't pay too much attention. Her throat burned with thirst and impatience.

 

"You people do this a lot?" she asked.

 

"When we have to," Leila replied. "If you want, we can go somewhere nice after the sun goes down."

 

"Where?" Alva scoffed. "Back to Riften?"

 

"Why not?" Maereth asked, her face and voice emotionless. "Do you know how many bodies turn up there every day? As long as you don't bite a guard or a noble, you can drink to your heart's desire. It's the perfect hunting ground."

 

That cheered Alva up, but only slightly. "Do you ever go anywhere else?"

 

"We stick out like sore thumbs in Shor's Stone," Colette said.

 

"And there's absolutely nothing of note in Darkwater Crossing," Leila chortled.

 

"There's always Ivarstead," Maereth randomly suggested.

 

"By the Nine, no," Leila exclaimed, while Colette cackled next to her. "Do you know how many holy zealots go on pilgrimage to Ivarstead?" 

 

"Windhelm is too far," Aurelian said, shaking the goat slightly to keep the blood flowing. "We'd never make it back before the sun."

 

"Riften is a great place for vampires so long we get in and get out," Leila insisted. "Staying is what gets you caught."

 

"In the old days, before the war, we could just find a fort full of juicy bandits," Colette recalled, licking her lips. "It was like performing community service."

 

Leila sighed, eyes closed in remembrance. "I miss the old days. I miss the war."

 

Maereth nodded. "Business boomed during the war."

 

When the goat was sufficiently drained, Aurelian carried the basin to a room with an actual table and chairs. Colette followed with the tankards, and Alva followed them with a grumbling stomach.

 

Once seated, the vampires took turns dipping their tankards into the basin. Alva made sure to fill hers to the brim. The warm goat's blood had a bold, earthy taste. It easily satisfied Alva's hunger, but left her wanting something else.

 

She reached into her clothes for her vial. Leila was immediately alarmed.

 

"You're on the powder?" she asked. "Already?"

 

Alva shrugged. "What of it?"

 

"Listen," Leila began, lowering her voice, "we don't come here specifically for the skooma. Yes, it's a nice side benefit. But we're here for a safe place to hide from the sun. If you're going to indulge, do it slowly, responsibly."

 

Alva snorted. "It's not like we can become addicted."

 

"We can," Aurelian warned, his tone grave. "And if you think mortal addiction is appalling, I can assure you vampire addicts are much worse."

 

"The Bosmers constantly refine the formula," Colette added, her voice just above a whisper. "They want to ensnare us as well as the mortals."

 

 Alva was stubborn. "This cost me ten septims."

 

"Use it sparingly, only once a day," Aurelian advised. "And then don't buy anymore."

 

"If you can't control your consumption," Leila stated, "it will control you. You'll end up like them, doing things that disgust you, but not being able to stop."

 

Alva nodded, but her fingers clutched the vial even tighter.

 

Next: Down by the Docks