"How do you feel?" he asked.

"I could use a needle and thread." She smiled at him.

He never smiled back, but she knew pleasantries on her part always put him at ease. And somehow she gained strange comfort from comforting him.

She examined their surroundings, feeling more aware than she had last night. Apparently, Rashed had come across this abandoned ship one night while exploring. The crew must not have been able to free it, because they simply left it behind, and now trees, shrubs, and moss almost hid its existence entirely. The boards of the deck were old but intact, and no light peeked through to burn them. It was as safe a place as she possibly could have expected.

Rashed walked over and shook Ratboy. "Wake up. We have to go."

Of the three of them, Ratboy still seemed the weakest and least healed. Though most of the dog's bites were closed, a mix of fire and garlic water had taken their toll. He would need to feed again soon.

"Where are we going?" Teesha asked Rashed.

"Back to the warehouse."

"What? Why?"

"Because we have nothing, and we don't know if it burned down completely," he said. "What if the dockworkers put the fire out? Not one of us could blend into a crowd safely like this. We need clothes and weapons. Everything was in the warehouse."

She shook her head. "It's too dangerous. There may be guards investigating. We should just leave tonight. I know it's risky, but we can feed while traveling and steal what we need along the way. After passing through a few households, we should be adequately, if not well, set up."

Ratboy struggled to his feet. "I agree."

"Guards are nothing to us," Rashed said.

"If we disappear, the town will think us dead," Teesha insisted. "The hunter will leave us alone."

For the first time in her memory, Rashed snapped at her in anger. "She'll only stop hunting us if she's lying in a grave!"

Even Ratboy seemed stunned by this outburst and shifted uncomfortably. Rashed pushed open the hatch door.

"Come. We've got to see what happened to the warehouse."

Teesha wasn't angry. She could never feel anger toward Rashed, but his manner unsettled her. She wanted him out of this town and away from the hunter. She never wanted that hunter's blade near him again.

The three of them should just quietly leave. That was the logical course of action. But he was in charge, and she had certainly helped to place him in that position.

With little choice, she and Ratboy followed him outside.

While feeling any sort of sympathy for Rashed seemed impossible to Ratboy, as they all stood staring at the burned remains of what had once been home, he dimly realized that he felt only a small portion of anger and loss compared to the tall warrior who looked on without expression.

There was nothing left. The three of them were now hidden from sight by a huge half-charred crate, but the warehouse structure itself had burned from the inside out, allowing heavy support beams to collapse inward. The tunnels below were probably nonexistent now. Had Rashed not planned that secret tunnel to the beach, they would all be lying crushed under a pile of dirt and beams. Or burned to ash as well.

And therein rested Ratboy's dilemma.

Everything inside Ratboy screamed that Teesha was right. They should leave Miiska tonight and take their chances on the road, killing and resupplying along the way. However, as much as he loathed Rashed's arrogant manner, the self-proclaimed leader of their group was always one step ahead when it came to survival.

The question here was one of motivation. Rashed claimed that lasting safety could only be achieved by destroying the hunter. If this were true, then Ratboy would stay and fight. But tonight, Rashed appeared less rational than usual. In fact, he seemed to be functioning from a standpoint of pure revenge. Vengeance was a luxury. Ratboy had no interest in luxuries.

And what exactly was driving Teesha toward flight? Was it a sensible desire for survival or some perverse wish to keep Rashed from further combat with that hunter? He sometimes believed that he understood her a great deal more than Rashed did. Their leader viewed Teesha as a lovely creature to be protected, as the fragile heart of this little family. Ratboy knew she possessed the ability to care, even to love, but she had always been ruled by her own drives and desires, and she knew how to work Rashed like her own personal, life-size toy soldier.

But lately her actions were difficult to gauge. He suspected her feelings for Rashed were beginning to outweigh her own survival instincts.

And for all his resentment of Rashed, Ratboy did acknowledge his uses. And Ratboy certainly knew he didn't want to be alone. But problem solving wasn't one of his strengths. He wanted to follow the course of action that would stop this hunter's vendetta and allow them to continue existing. But which course was that? Flight or fight?

Cool air blew in from the sea, causing piles of dust from the blackened wreckage to rise and drift away.

"Oh, Rashed," Teesha said in genuine regret while examining the remnants of their home, "I'm so sorry."

She walked over and gently touched his shoulder in comfort. He did not move or acknowledge her.

"Well, we aren't going to find anything of value here," Ratboy said sensibly. "Do we feed, run, or start tracking the hunters? I say we should all agree on our next move before doing anything."

Teesha smiled at him gratefully. Her concern for Rashed's state of mind was becoming obvious. Actually, Ratboy was growing worried as well.

"You're both fools if you look to him for decisions," a hollow voice said.

Edwan appeared near Teesha in his usual horrific state. Although Ratboy wasn't exactly unnerved by the ghost's macabre appearance, he'd never learned to regard Edwan as anything but an erratically useful aberration.

This was a night of new expressions. Teesha almost frowned.

"My dear," she said to Edwan. "We are in a rather bad way tonight. I wish you would attempt to be helpful."

"That hunter is not a charlatan," he answered angrily, his long, yellow hair moving as his severed head jerked toward his wife. "She's a dhampir, born to hunt and kill your kind. You will not defeat her. If you stay here, you will all die a true death and join me."

Rashed finally turned away from the burned warehouse. "How do you know this?" he asked of the ghost. "Every time we talk, you have more tragic or critical news to share."

"There is a stranger living at The Velvet Rose. He knows many things. I heard him tell her." Edwan's words faltered slightly, and Ratboy knew communication on a physical level was becoming more difficult for the ghost with each passing season. "He's strong-not like the others. Something about him…"

"So how badly injured is the hunter?" Rashed asked bluntly.

"Not at all," Edwan answered. "The half-elf fed her his blood, and she healed like one of you."

Rashed shook his head almost sadly.

"Long years in this physical realm are affecting you. Dhampirs only exist in stories. Offspring of a mortal and vampire? Our kind cannot procreate. You know that."

Ratboy wasn't so certain. "Corische used to talk to me sometimes when he fell into black moods, and his favorite subject was always our strengths and weaknesses and abilities. He told me once that it takes our bodies a bit of time to completely alter. I don't know why. But he said that in the first days after being turned, it was still possible for an undead to conceive or create a child."

"This is pointless." Rashed waved him away like an annoying insect. "If she is something beyond human, then the need to kill her is increased not reduced."

"Well then, my lord," Ratboy drawled, "perhaps we ought to try a different tactic. The two of us would have killed her last night were it not for the half-elf, the blacksmith, and that damned dog. No one else in this town will help her. If we rob her of any present assistance, she will be alone."