Despite this, Zula was a surprise hit with those of the fairer sex. He generally repulsed them to begin with, but after ten minutes in his company virtually any woman found herself won over by his charm.

Tanish had run into Zula a few years ago and instantly recognized a kindred spirit. They’d become fast friends and it wasn’t long before Larten and Wester were introduced to the newest member of their rowdy pack.

“You’ve got fairer skin than a baby,” Tanish hooted as Larten rested in the shed and tried not to move — his burned flesh sent needles shooting through him every time he shifted. “You were only up there half an hour. I’d be a mild pink color if it had been me.”

“You’l be red with your own blood if you ever try that again,” Larten said angrily. “What if I hadn’t been able to undo the knots?”

“We were keeping a close watch on you,” Wester said. “We would have seen if you were in trouble.”

“And left you there to burn!” Zula exploded.

Larten found himself laughing along with the others. It had been a good joke, even though he was the butt of it. Wester was the only one who couldn’t see the funny side. He smiled along with the rest of them, but his smile was strained. Larten would be tender for the coming week, his flesh would peel and some of the sores might fester. Wester saw nothing humorous in that.

The vampires drank and chatted for a few hours, telling tall and bawdy tales. Tanish and Zula had been involved in a number of near scrapes as usual and had been run out of the last three towns they’d visited.

“The problem with humans is that they take life too seriously,” Tanish sneered. “Admittedly, we burned down a storehouse with a winter’s supply of grain in it, so a few children will go hungry this year. So what? It will sort out the strong from the weak. Humans are too attached to their young. The vampaneze have the right idea — humans are only fit for killing.”