The fight recommenced and the burly men closed in on one another. Larten looked up from his fingers and focused on the boxers. This was the thirty-second round, and it had been a long time since he’d seen so engaging a battle. He cheered on the stout-hearted warriors as they clashed, weary and unsteady on their feet, but determined to keep going.

The flesh of their bare fists had been torn to pieces and blood splattered every time one of them landed a blow. The ruby-red drops made Larten’s mouth water

— Wester and Yebba were staring hungrily too — and he had to warn himself to stay by the side, not dart forward and latch on to the delicious wounds.

Al around, men were betting and roaring encouragement or abuse. They all had the same greedy, heated look in their eyes.

“My one’s winning,” Yebba whooped as one of the brutes landed a blow.

“You didn’t bet on him,” Wester retorted. “You bet on the other one.”

“Did not!” Yebba shouted.

“Yes you did. He has that mark on his left arm, remember?”

Yebba squinted at the boxers, then cursed. “These humans all look the same to me,” he growled. Larten and Wester laughed and passed the disgruntled vampire another mug of ale — that was guaranteed to settle him down.

After the fight, Larten and Wester collected their winnings and took Yebba to a tavern where they found ladies to dance with. Small towns lacked the dance halls of big cities, but you could always sort out something if you splashed enough money around.

They joined a card game later. Al three were drunk and they lost heavily, even Larten, who rarely tasted defeat at the gambling tables. But they didn’t mind.

Money was easy to come by if you were a creature of the night.

Larten wanted to do his knife-catching trick again, but Wester wouldn’t let him. He took his friend’s knife away and held it out of reach as Larten tried to snatch it back. If they had been sober, Wester couldn’t have kept it from the faster, stronger vampire. But Larten was woozy and helpless. Wester had a knack for knowing when Larten was going to drink more than he could handle, and he stayed relatively clearheaded on those nights so that he could keep an eye on his reckless friend.