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as I handed the reins
of the closest of our horses to Anna. “I am just here to reclaim
what is mine. Then I’ll be on my way. You can keep the treasure,
and your daughter, too.”
    You can imagine how well my words were
taken.
    “What?” Maris screeched. “You were going to
marry me! I found the dress!”
    Stupid chit. “I never said that. You betrayed
me.”
    “You betrayed us!” her father shouted. “Hand
over your saddlebags, all of them, or we’ll kill you and your
trollop!”
    My horse spooked, rearing, as I grabbed for
the reins. “Never,” I said forcefully. “Leave, before I kill you
all.”
    “I am not trollop; I am a lady!” Anna said
scathingly, her hand resting on her saddlebags. “But it’s easy to
see you’re a whore! You’ll never wear my dress!”
    Maris screamed again, my horse bolted, and
the male gypsies dismounted as one, all furious. I faced them, and
before the first one could throw a punch, I broke his neck. The
others paused. I advanced, throwing the body aside.
    I lunged for them with bared fangs and they
retreated, eyes white and round with fear.
    “Devlin!” Anna screamed.
    I turned back just in time to see Maris stab
Anna in the side. I lost all reason, running supernaturally fast to
them, snarling wildly. Maris screamed and let go of Anna, who had
fainted.
    “Devlin, no, please!”
    I grabbed her by the throat, and in my rage,
I crushed her neck like an egg. She collapsed bonelessly to the
forest floor.
    I turned back to the gypsies, snarling in
ire, but they were already riding hard, the hoof beats of their
horses pounding the grass as they rode out of sight. Anna had let
go of the reins when she fell and her horse was running with
theirs. In a second, the trees had swallowed them.
    I knelt at Anna’s side. The wound wasn’t bad,
but it was deep. I put my mouth over it, and bit down on my lip,
wincing at the pain. I dared only give her a little blood, but it
was enough to make the wound a shallow scratch.
    Everything we’d planned had gone wrong. Anna
was still unconscious, mostly I guessed from shock. We were on foot
now, our horses gone. Worst of all, snow was starting to fall.
    I propped Anna against the nearest tree, and
raced around, looking to see if anything usable had been left
behind before it was lost in the snow.
    I found the remnants of the cooked deer. Most
had been taken, but there was enough to cram into my pockets for a
meal for Anna later. To my relief, my saddlebag had fallen off my
horse when it had reared, so I had my coin from the dead guard, my
knife, my water bag, and my few other things, though my instrument
had been trampled, and was too broken to ever play another song.
The bearskin was as I’d left it, along with the little food we’d
had that I’d gotten for Anna. It was still in the tree, though some
animal had nibbled at the cheese, and ruined a bit. The coveted
purse of jewels, all the money Anna had brought with her, and her
most prized possessions were gone. They were still on her horse in
her saddlebags, and likely now in the possession of the
gypsies.
    There was a light covering of snow on the
ground by now. Anna had not regained consciousness, and there was a
light dusting over her as well, melting into her thin clothes. I
moved to her side and took her hand.
    This snowstorm in spring was a freak thing,
likely to be melting in at most a week. If it had been just me, I
would have bedded down under the bearskin. I’d thaw in a few days
at most, sure as the sun would rise. But Anna wasn’t vampire; she
would freeze to death without food, and more importantly, warm
shelter.
    I debated for a moment on trying to turn her,
to give her a better chance of survival. Without her permission, or
even being sure of a decent chance for success, I decided I
couldn’t risk it.
    I wrapped her in the bearskin, and
shouldering the bags, I picked her up, and began to walk. It wasn’t
bad, at first. That first mile the snow was light, and fluffy,