Just as he's obviously charmed you, the Shark thoughtwith a slight sniff of contempt. Charmed you into being his next meal.
Maia left to refill the mugs of the celebrants, andthe elf turned his attention to his wares. He carefully emptied the crate of atleast a dozen small carvings, turned it over, and spread his cloak over themakeshift table.
The Shark's heart beat faster with anticipation. Whatshe was about to do next was risky, but it was part of the deadly game sheloved to play, needed to play. She rose and went to meet her quarry.
The vampire glanced up as her shadow fell across him.The Shark noted, as if she needed further proof, that the undead cast no shadowof his own in the flickering lamplight.
"Your work is impressive," said the Shark.
She met the vampire's gray eyes evenly. There hadn'tbeen a blooder yet that could charm her, but she enjoyed the danger of flirtingwith the possibility. To her disappointment, the golden vampire didn't eventry. He merely continued placing his carvings on the crate.
"Thank you," the blooder replied.
"Do you have your own shop here inWaterdeep?"
"I find it more congenial to work during the dayand visit different taverns at night."
I'll bet you do, the Shark noted silently.
She ran a finger along the hull of a tiny, incrediblydetailed elven sailing vessel and said, "People are freer with their coinwhen their throats are wet, I would imagine."
He chuckled politely. "Perhaps they are. Do youlike that piece?"
"I do, but I don't have enough with me to buy ittonight," the Shark replied, feigning disappointment. "Could I cometo your home tomorrow and purchase it then?"
"I value my privacy when I work," respondedthe vampire, a touch too swiftly. "I'll be back tomorrow night. Shall Ikeep it for you?"
"I have an engagement, but I'll send one of myservants for it. Who should she ask for?"
"Jander Sunstar," the elf replied. "Andyou are?"
"Shakira Khazaar. Thank you for holding the piecefor me."
"Standard business practice. I'd hate to lose asale," Jander answered.
There was a strange expression in those silver eyes,and the Shark felt vaguely uneasy. She had done something wrong. She hadgotten careless somehow. The thought was like a slap in the face. She smiled,hoping to allay his suspicion, and was relieved when he returned the gesturewith the artless, seemingly genuine smile she had seen him use with the others,his "friends." Still, she felt his eyes boring into her back as sheleft.
Once outside, the Shark crossed the street and slippedinto an alley. After making sure she had not been observed, she drew the hoodof the cloak over her head. Woven and ensorcelled by her own hands many yearsago, the cloak not only made her invisible, but also disguised the auraproduced by her body heat-something vampires could see. The snow-speckled windwas strong, but she maneuvered herself so that it blew directly in her face.Though she was now invisible to the eyes of blooder and human alike, she wasnot about to risk being betrayed by her scent.
Her wait was not long. Just as the inn closed, the vampireemerged. The barmaid Maia was with him. Carefully, silently, the Sharkfollowed, noting that Jander deliberately left bootprints in the snow,perpetuating the illusion that he was nothing more than an ordinary elf. Toomany blooders, used to walking without tracks, forgot that little detail.
Maia and the vampire chatted quietly as he escortedthe girl to her home, a single room atop a tailor shop. The Shark waited forthe inevitable. The stupid girl, hypnotized by the creature, would invite himin. Of course he would accept, then drink his fill. That was the way it worked,and the Shark never interfered. She knew from a particularly harrowingexperience in Suzail that it was unwise to startle a feeding vampire.
Her expectations were fulfilled. Casually, Maiainvited the vampire inside, as if she had done so often. Courteously, theblooder accepted. The Shark waited with practiced patience, ignoring the cold.Eventually the vampire emerged, descended the stairs, and turned to stride downthe street-still taking care to leave footprints. The hunter followed, slightlypuzzled. Rather than assume the form of a bat or dissolve into mist, Janderchose to retain his elf shape and simply walk the distance. He seemed tense,though, and repeatedly glanced over his shoulder.
He thinks someone's following him, she realized suddenly.How could he know?
The Shark's mind raced back to the incident at theinn, and she finally recognized what she had done to arouse the blooder'ssuspicions. She had not asked the price of the carving. Shame and fear rolledover her, bringing hot blood to her invisible face. Idiot! her mind screamedsilently. How could she have jeopardized herself so? Her carelessness couldhave cost her life-and might still. At that instant, Jander paused to looksquarely at her, just for a moment. The Shark's heart lurched. . But no, hehadn't seen her. The blooder turned and continued on his way.
At last he stopped in front of a small, stone cottagenear the city's outskirts. It wasn't until Jander removed a key and unlockedthe door that the Shark understood, with some surprise, that that was thevampire's home. The wooden shingles and door were solid and in good shape.Beneath the shuttered windows stood the winter skeletons of rose bushes,carefully pruned and planted in neat rows. With a final, anxious glance around,Jander carefully knocked the snow from his boots and went inside.
The Shark tasted disappointment like ashes in hermouth. What kind of a challenge was a vampire who planted rose bushes? Howcould she prove herself against so feeble a foe? Surely something as exotic asan elf vampire ought to push her to her limits, test every bit of clevernessand skill she possessed! She almost felt that she could walk in right then anddispatch the creature without breaking a sweat, but her earlier carelessnesstempered her resentment. She would come back the next day and kill him. Itwould be easy, she knew, yet she still needed to devise a back-up plan just incase something went wrong.
With a final, disgusted look at the cozy cottage thatwas home to a vampire, she turned and retraced her steps to town. There was onemore thing to do that night.
Protected from all eyes by her magical cloak, theShark arrived at the blooder's cottage the following afternoon.
The vampire's domicile was part of a small row ofhouses, which all seemed vacant. Shallen Lathkule's wedding, held at the otherend of Waterdeep, had indeed drawn a huge crowd. With speedy efficiency, the Sharkpicked the lock and slipped inside. Closing the door behind her, she allowedher eyes to grow accustomed to the darkness, then looked around.
On the ground floor of the two-story building, she sawnothing sinister, apart from the shutters that were nailed closed and coatedwith pitch to seal out sunlight. There was a large workbench, with thewoodcarver's tools neatly organized. Half-formed carvings sat patiently onshelves. Where they were not covered with shelving, the walls bore lovelypaintings and tapestries. In one corner, carefully preserved, was a suit ofmail, a sword, and a shield. Relics, no doubt, from the vampire's days as aliving being. The stone floor was strewn with fresh rushes. Small squeakingsounds came from behind a curtain toward the back. Senses alert, the Sharkmoved forward carefully and drew back the curtain.
Dozens of rats milled about in a large pen. Shewatched them carefully for a few moments, aware that sometimes such simplebeasts could be controlled by vampires, but the rats behaved in a perfectlyordinary fashion. Wrinkling her nose at the smell, she let the curtain fall.
"Between meal treats," she said softly. Mostblooders kept something of the sort on hand.
She checked the wooden floor for any hidden doors, butfound none. The Shark frowned, puzzled, and she glanced at the ladder that ledup to the upper floor. Most undead liked their lairs cool and dark, belowground if possible. The Shark shrugged. Upstairs, downstairs-it made nodifference to her. Soundlessly, she climbed up to the small loft. She raisedher head cautiously, then drew a swift intake of breath.