The deep red glow of dusk lit up the military camp, casting long shadows down the endless rows of tan tents. This camp was much larger than the one they had stayed in a couple of nights ago.

Simon’s touch was gentle but impersonal as he helped Danya down from the horse. His attention fell away the moment Danya was back on his own two feet. When a man tried to take Simon’s horse for him, he brushed him off with a wave of his hand.

“This is home, more or less,” Hamish said to Danya as Simon led the way to stables that stood on the far edge of the camp. “It’s got all the modern amenities like, uh… tents? And… that dog over there eating horse shit. I know it seems kinda shitty right now, but it’s actually great because you’ll find that by the time we leave you’ll no longer hate the idea of heading back to a vampire infested city where we almost all died quite so much.”

“He won’t be leaving my tent, so boredom is the only thing he’ll have to worry about while we’re here,” Simon said as he led his horse through the stable doors.

The air smelled of hay and horse, and everything was quiet except for the occasional snort or shuffle of hooves from the long row of stalls. The horse in the stall nearest the door stretched its neck out but couldn’t quite reach far enough to eat Simon’s hair.

“Well, I don’t know about you, but boredom is exactly why I go out there and risk my life on a regular basis. Fighting evil? Who gives a shit. Saving lives? Pfft. It’s all about adrenaline and men in uniform. Hey, Wyke.”

The mage who had stuck his head out of a nearby stall was older than Danya by several years and had short light brown hair that looked like it had been hacked at haphazardly with a pair of scissors. He turned when the horse whose stall he was cleaning nosed at him, revealing puckered burns down the other side of his face.

Danya hadn’t noticed him when they had first come in, and when Wyke lifted a hand to open the stall door it became clear why. Like Baine, he had black crosses tattooed on the backs of his hands marking him as a Neutral. He had energy, like any living thing, but it was weak enough that the horses had masked it.

Hamish was gathering the mandarins out of his saddle bag, and as soon as Wyke stepped out of the stall he handed over an armful of them. “I trust this will ensure another month of good fortune.”

Wyke took the mandarins without comment and disappeared through a doorway.

“I wish he really could grant good luck,” Simon commented. “We’ve had too little lately.”

“Nah, are you kidding?” Hamish shook his head. “We’re alive. We should have died last night at least twice, but we didn’t. That’s luck.”

“I’m not sure luck deserves the credit here, but you’re right.” Simon’s eyes locked with Danya’s. “And I am thankful for it.”

It was a strange feeling to know that the one thing he had done in his life that truly mattered, the one thing that made Simon look at him like he had value, was also something he had been taught was aberrant and dangerous. He bit back a smile and dropped his gaze, but there was a sickly feeling that lingered in his gut. He almost wished Simon would punish him in some small way just so that he could stop feeling like he was still waiting for it to happen.

Danya’s head jerked back up as the distant edge of something strange brushed his mind. He frowned as a tall man waved at them from the other end of the stables as he approached.

He felt… odd. Not bad like the vampire had, just completely different from anything Danya had ever encountered before. He was definitely fae-touched in some way, but he didn’t feel like a mage and with his square, stubbly jaw he certainly didn’t look like one. And his size. Simon was tall, but now that he had reached them it was clear that this guy was nearly a head taller.

“Hey guys, welcome back! What’s, uh…” The guy looked between them and Danya expectantly.

“He’s our son. We adopted him,” Hamish said. “Turns out neither of us can carry a child, so…”

“He’s mine,” Simon said, ignoring Hamish. “He was a gift from the host of the party we went to.”

“Oh, wow.” His face scrunched up in a mix of sympathy and distaste. “Well, uh, I’m Slone—”

Danya flinched back as Slone reached towards him half a second before realising that he had just been offering Danya his hand to shake.

“Oh, sorry.” Slone took a step back to give Danya space. “Is he jumpy?”

“Well, not usually, but you are twice his size,” Hamish said.

Danya straightened up and held his hand out to Slone. “Sorry, sir. I’m not used to people shaking my hand. My name is Danya.”

Slone grinned and shook Danya’s hand gently. His energy vibrated gently against Danya’s skin.

Once they were done shaking, Slone tapped his fingers against his throat to indicate the scratches on Danya’s neck. “What, uh…”

“Vampire,” Simon supplied.

“What the fuck?” Slone looked between the three of them. “You can’t’ve had him more than a few days!”

“Two, actually,” Hamish said. “It only took us about twenty four hours to nearly get him killed, though. We’re efficient.”

“Well... at least you managed to save him, I guess?”

“Ha ha, yeah, about that…” Hamish rubbed the back of his neck, but he was smiling. “Come help me get some dinner together and some bedding for Danya and I’ll tell you the full story.”

“All right.” Slone leant towards the door Wyke had disappeared through and called out, “Hey, Wyke, I got some shit I need to do. You be all right on your own for a bit?”

Wyke poked his arm through the doorway and gave him a thumbs up.

“Cool. I’ll be back with dinner for you later, buddy.”

Wyke stepped back through the door, glanced at Hamish and Slone as they left, and then silently took the horses from Simon.

“Let’s go,” Simon said.

Danya followed Simon out of the stables, across a stretch of empty land that was more dirt than grass, and into the long rows of tents. They drew the attention of everyone they passed, but Simon kept his gaze straight ahead and his stride confident.

Danya stumbled as something snagged his robe and looked down to see a man sitting on the ground in front of one of the tents holding onto it.

The man grinned and grabbed at his own crotch. “Want some of this?”

Instantly Simon was there, pushing in front of Danya as he faced down the man. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

The grin had fallen off of the man’s face. “Just having some fun, sir.”

“Just having some fun with my slave. Do you think that’s acceptable behaviour, private? Do you think that shows proper respect to me?”

“No, sir,” the man said as he sat up straighter, eyes wide. “I apologise.”

Simon stared the man down for a few long seconds before dismissing him with a wave of his hand. “I’ll be having a talk with your commanding officer.”

Simon turned and continued on and Danya hurried to catch up with his longer stride. Finally they reached a large, red tent at the end of the row and Simon ushered Danya inside.

The exterior of the tent had made it appear grand, but inside the furnishings were sparse and basic. Simon’s cot may have been a bit larger and nicer than standard, but it was still little more than a foam mat and some blankets on the ground. He had a fold out table, a couple of chests for his belongings, and little else.

Once the tent flap was closed and the rest of the world was shut out, Simon sighed and turned to Danya. “Sorry about that. And sorry I had to make it about me. I’m sure you understand why.”

“Of course. Thank you for defending me.”

“It’s the least I can do. Slone, though — I know he intimidated you, but he’s a good guy. You don’t need to be afraid of him.”

And this was the moment. The moment when Danya ought to have said, well, actually, there is something I’m a little concerned about. It might not be bad — it probably isn’t! — but you should know all the facts, and that guy is not human.

The words just wouldn’t come out, though. How could he turn around and out someone else for being not quite what they pretended when he was still hiding things about himself?

“He seemed… nice,” Danya said instead.

Simon let out a quiet, tired laugh. “Too nice, if anything. He doesn’t know how to pretend to have the appropriate attitudes at all. He’s huge, though, so he gets away with more than most people would. His brother was the same.”

“Was…?”

“His brother, Yore, was in the same unit as me and Hamish on the last job we went on.” Simon sat down on one of his chests and started unlacing his boots. “He… didn’t make it.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“They got him in the night. Nobody even noticed until he just… wasn’t there.” Simon slowly picked a bootlace loose with none of the practiced efficiency he usually applied to the task. “I don’t know. It would have been easier if it had been a fight. I think I could be more at peace with that.”

Danya didn’t know what to do. He wanted to offer Simon comfort, but he didn’t know how. Not with a human. Not with someone like Simon.

Simon tugged his boot off and then started on the other one. “Anyway, when Slone showed up and started stirring up as much drama as his brother had we took him in, even though he’s inexperienced and he’s too young to have his armor yet. I think the two of you are about the same age, actually.”

“His armor?”

“Oh!” Simon finished getting his other boot off in two seconds flat and then stood and opened the chest he’d been sitting on. From inside he pulled out a padded, long sleeved black jacket studded all over with little metal bits. “The studs are silver. Costs a lot to make, so we only get a set after five years of service.”

Danya reached out his hand and trailed his fingers over a gash that ran down the front of the fabric, deep enough that some of the white padding beneath was spilling out. “I could fix this.”

“Well, if you don’t have anything better to do. There’s a sewing kit in here somewhere.”

“I meant with magic. I don’t have many magical skills, but cleaning and repairing are things I can do.”

“You need to rest for now, but if you want to at some point — yes. That would be helpful.”

Danya ran his fingers over the high, thickly studded collar of the jacket. It was sturdy enough to stand up on its own, but it flexed when he bent it.

“That’s to keep them away from our throats. And this,” Simon held up an arm-guard covered in larger silver studs, “is to protect our wrists and serve as a weapon.” Simon held it around his wrist and then swung it in a tight arc to demonstrate. “Burns they get from silver don’t heal, and if you get them in the eyes you can blind them. And, of course, a silver blade to the heart can kill them.”

“Fortunately, I did know that much.”

“Oh, yeah, I guess you did. I keep forgetting that you actually…” He shook his head. “I still can’t imagine it. I wish I could have seen it.”

Danya shrugged. “I just got lucky.”

Simon looked unconvinced. “I’ve been doing this shit for years. Nobody is that lucky.”

“Well, I had stunned her with the light and she wanted to take me alive, so this wasn’t the same as what you’re used to. Plus I’ve never used a knife for anything but eating before, so clearly doing that successfully was luck. And—”

Simon held his hands up. “Okay, okay. I was trying to compliment you, but if you want it to be luck, then fine, it was luck. If you ever need to be lucky in future you should know that daylight also works, of course. Or beheading, but the only one who bothers with that is Hamish when he feels like showing off.”

Simon began folding his armor back into the chest. “Or fire. That’s how Wyke got the…” He gestured to the side of his face to indicate Wyke’s burn. “He was with his master and his unit when the building they were in was breached by vampires. They set the whole place on fire with… mixed results. Wyke got out. His master didn’t.”

“His master died?”

Simon nodded. “Yeah. Now he’s just sort of military property and works the stables. It’s not really anybody in particular’s job to take care of him, so for a while he got pretty neglected. Then Hamish convinced a bunch of people it was good luck to feed him.”

“But he’s a Neutral. He doesn’t even have any magic.”

“Well, obviously it’s not true. That’s just… Hamish.” Simon shrugged. “Me, I just would have told them to do it because it was the right thing to do. And you know what? It wouldn’t have worked. That’s why I let Hamish do the social stuff.”

“I suppose that’s leadership, though, isn’t it? Using the strengths of others to your own advantage.”

“I think that might be a bit charitable. Especially coming from you.” Simon rubbed at the back of his neck. “Hamish is always telling me to treat people as they are, rather than as I want them to be, but I just can’t get it and then I get angry. It can be a bit of a tactical disadvantage sometimes, but when I start doing it to you — that’s a character flaw.”

Danya opened his mouth to reassure him, but before he could speak Hamish pushed through the tent flap with a tray full of bowls of stew and Slone following after him with Danya’s bedding. Danya gave Simon a quick nod and then went to help Slone set up his cot.