My Vampire Boyfriend

Chapter 8 Landmine

The humbled vampire sat obediently on a rock, reluctantly accepting human ministrations and huffing displeased little sounds from time to time.

Hearing those disgruntled murmurs, Chi Qinghe recalled how just that morning Rong Ze had yelped when Chi had nudged him—complaining that Chi had been too rough—yet now, with a bruised knee, he stubbornly insisted he felt nothing. Such petulant contradiction irritated Chi.

Fortunately Xie Xiu had come prepared: he’d left a backpack behind that contained a first-aid kit suitable for treating bumps and bruises. After Chi had worked the knee until it eased, he rolled Rong Ze’s pant leg back and rose. “Stand and walk a bit. See if it still hurts.”

Rong Ze, still sulking inwardly—angry that Xie Xiu had been impolite and tried to send him down the mountain after promising otherwise, and angrier still at his own humiliation in front of humans—stood and flexed his injured leg. Miraculously, the pain had diminished.

“Does it hurt?” Chi asked.

Despite himself, after Chi’s treatment the vampire admitted the pain had lessened. Rong Ze’s pride prickled; without responding, he turned to walk away. After a few steps he stopped, noticed Chi still standing where he’d left him, and when their eyes met he spoke.

“Lead the way.”

Chi acted as if he hadn’t heard. He sat back on the rock, methodically retrieved a bottle of water from his pack, unscrewed the cap and took a measured sip—yet made no move to get up.

Rong Ze grew impatient and shouted, “What are you doing? Move!”

“So eager,” Chi replied coolly. “Is your kind in that cave?”

The single question struck at Rong Ze’s core. The stupid little ghost flared, about to lose his temper, and Chi rose, slinging the pack over his shoulder. “Then let’s go.”

Vampire and human alike despised the half-bloods: mongrels unworthy of the name, abominations that did not deserve to live. As for blood-kin who fell into treachery—the guilty—those were not kin; they should be driven through with silver and beheaded. All deserved death.

Rong Ze’s plan had been formed in hot, proud haste: should the cave contain such mongrels, he would s*******r them all—right there, before Chi Qinghe and the others. His elder brothers could later wipe human memories; the matter would not be exposed. He imagined, with dizzying self-satisfaction, the glory of exterminating the stain on his house.

“Watch your step,” Chi warned as they moved on. “Don’t fall again.”

His words proved prophetic. The foolish vampire glanced away and failed to watch where he placed his feet. Having learned from the previous mishap, Chi reacted instantly—fast, firm, precise—seizing Rong Ze’s hand and yanking him back to safety. The slope was kinder than before, and Chi managed to haul him close.

Rong Ze stumbled, bewildered, and fell into Chi’s arms; the thin, chilly skin of his forehead brushed Chi’s lips. The unexpected contact—a kiss by accident—stilled Chi for a heartbeat, as if the cold had frozen him.

Once they found their balance, Chi’s tone sharpened. “Can you look where you’re going? I’ll pull you twice—no third time.”

“Did I ask you to pull me?” Rong Ze snapped, trying to wrench his hand free but finding it held fast. He frowned irritably. “Let go.”

Chi didn’t. “We’re almost at the fourth peak. If you insist on dying, don’t expect anyone to be responsible.”

“You’re talking nonsense! Only you humans fall—I'm noble—” Rong Ze began, chest puffed.

“‘Noble Prince Anthony,’ is it?” Chi cut him off. “What else are you besides that title? Do your kin know their prince can’t even climb a mountain?”

“You—” Rong Ze sputtered.

“If it weren’t for humans, you might already be a bloody smear,” Chi added bluntly.

“You son of a—”

“Same insults as always,” Chi snapped. “Who promised me you wouldn’t swear? Stop sulking and walk.” With more words than he ever liked to spare, Chi hauled Rong Ze onward.

Determined to reach the fourth peak quickly, the humbled vampire swallowed his pride and let himself be led. His body obeyed; his tongue did not.

“You idiot.”

“…”

Chi ignored the provocation. When the figures of Xie Xiu and Liu Xiao came into view, he released Rong Ze and repeated his caution about watching their footing.

The four regrouped; Xie Xiu’s expression toward Rong Ze was frosty. The vampire’s scorn for humans was plain, and their reencounter nearly erupted into another quarrel. Liu Xiao, breathless, tried to mediate; Chi, impatient, interrupted to ask Xie where the cave was.

“Not found,” Xie answered. “It’s really gone.”

Liu Xiao scoffed. “Both posts were by the same author, right? Maybe he was messing with people.”

“Why bother?” Xie said. “Why would only he find a cave no one else ever did?”

Chi stared at the slope where scrub had overgrown, and asked again, “Are you sure it was here?”

“Positive.”

After more than two hours of grueling climb, after humiliation before humans and a stern dressing-down from his blood-donor, Rong Ze had become a powder keg: one wrong word and he would explode.

“You tricked me?” He pointed an accusing finger at Xie Xiu. “How dare you trick me?!”

Xie looked bewildered. Chi understood—and gave Liu Xiao a look. They each took a person: Liu Xiao, the bigger of the two, easily hauled Xie aside to prevent a fight, while Rong Ze grew loud and frantic, leaping and chattering like an agitated monkey. Chi had to wrestle the man-child into retreat.

“Don’t pull me, Liu Xiao!” Xie flailed, pointing at Rong Ze. “You pathetic—Rong Ze, you want a fight, come on!”

“Let go!” Rong Ze struggled, squirming against the arm braced across his waist, and then, with rapid-fire profanity newly learned to the letter, he sputtered invective at Xie that was both inventive and crude.

“Hey—tone it down!” Liu Xiao half-laughed, half-pleaded.

“If you keep this up, no game purchase,” Chi warned flatly.

“I don’t need it! Let go!” Rong Ze retorted.

Cold air swept the mountain; the fourth peak’s bare slope should have been quiet, but the commotion made the place dizzyingly alive. No one noticed the faint, ring-shaped ripples like water forming in the air below the overgrown incline—ripples that trembled once, twice, then vanished.

Xie had come hoping only for a luck-toss; finding nothing, he was left furious and offered Chi a choice before they descended. “Qinghe, pick one: with me and without him, or with him and without me.”

An odd immaturity infected Chi for a moment—he would not sacrifice a long-standing friend for a vampire. He’d asked Liu Xiao to take Xie down first because he wanted to speak privately to the peculiar, temperamental creature at his side.

Rong Ze, sudden and theatrical, put a hand on Chi’s shoulder and proclaimed possessively to Xie, “He’s mine.”

Fighting on the mountain was frowned upon; Liu Xiao half-dragged, half-carried the about-to-erupt Xie away. Once they were gone, Chi shrugged off Rong Ze and asked, expression unreadable, “Who is yours? Don’t say words you don’t mean.”

“You are mine.”

Rong Ze slid a hand to Chi’s neck. The high black collar of Chi’s knit sweater hid the faint marks he’d left. With two fingers he hooked the collar and tugged it slightly, pressing his fingertips to the almost-healed twin wounds. Looking Chi in the eye, he murmured, “This is my mark on you.”

Chi’s reaction lagged a beat; he half-resisted and moved the vampire’s hand away.

Rong Ze, savoring the contact, licked his lips, his gaze shining with want—hungry, open desire. “I treated you last night. Fair exchange—give me two sips of blood.”

“…”

“Quickly. I’m hungry.” He was spent and languid; the promise of sweet, fresh blood was a balm.

“Consent matters,” Chi said, voice firm. “Exchange only counts when both agree. I didn’t consent.”

The vampire’s calculation of Oriental guile had just been upended; anger flared hot in him—he felt cheated.

“You did well last night,” Chi said, throwing a hook of a tease. “No need for tit-for-tat. I could let you have two sips.”

Rong Ze’s curses boiled to the surface, then he checked himself, thinking Chi had actually relented. Chi continued, deadpan: “But you performed terribly today—started trouble for no reason and swore like a sailor. I’m disappointed. So you’ll stay hungry.”

“You tricked me again, you i***t!” Rong Ze raged.

“Enough. Time to go down.”

“I’ll beat you to death!”

“You can’t,” Chi replied. “Stop.”

Rong Ze lunged—and was quickly subdued by the very human he’d marked as his donor. How humiliating, to be outmatched by a human! Quick-witted, he turned into a bat with a screech and fled in a flurry.

Chi glanced up; the small bat was gone in an instant.