He awoke on his back in the dark. As he couldn't see stars above he assumed he must be indoors somewhere, or underground. He groaned and sat up. His head was aching. He couldn't see anything, it was pitch black, but he could hear wind howling somewhere nearby.

"You're awake, excellent." The voice came out of the dark. It was a mellow sort of voice, cultured and refined. The tone was amiable and friendly. The words, on the other hand... "It's really not any fun when they're not awake. And I suppose it will be even more fun if you can see me. I shall do the gentlemanly thing and provide light for your poor, handicapped eyes." There was a sudden flare of brightness as the stranger struck a match. He lit a candle with it, and by the small golden glow Aidan could at least see where he was.

He seemed to be inside some kind of shack. The walls were wooden, put together sturdily, but from a mish-mash of cut boards and rough logs. Moss and mud were plastered into the cracks, sealing the whole thing very tightly. Though Aidan could hear the howling of what must be a full-blown blizzard, he felt no wind at all. Sitting on the floor of the shack next to him was a man. He looked young, not much older than Aidan himself, and his face was open and friendly. But something about his eyes sent shivers down Aidan's spine. There was something missing in his eyes.

He had long fair hair pulled back into a ponytail, and was dressed in clothing that had once been fine, but was now a bit worse for wear. It was also wildly inappropriate for the arctic winter. The tunic was light, meant for summer, and the trousers no better. He wore no coat at all, but he was ignoring the chill, though Aidan, in a thick down coat, still felt anything but warm. "I suppose I should introduce myself. My name is Lord Jander. I am newly come to this marvelous northern country. I presume that you have lived here some time, yes? What is your name?"

Aidan hesitated. I have the feeling that Lord Jander isn't quite playing with a full deck. But I suppose I should humor him. I seem to be stuck here with him, if that really is a blizzard out there.

"My name is Aidan."

"Aidan. I am quite pleased to meet you." He held out his hand and Aidan, somewhat bemused and baffled, shook it.

"Ah, you seem to be confused. Well no wonder, given that I have dragged you off and not given you a word of explanation." He grinned broadly, showing a pair of sharp fangs, and with a shock that went all the way to his core, Aidan realized that the man was a vampire. Involuntarily he scooted back, his eyes wide. But he ran almost immediately into the wall of the shack, and there was nowhere else to go. Jander chuckled. "Already you have learned something. You are afraid now, you know what I am. You will be much more afraid shortly. I have come here to establish my kingdom. The Dark Lord's power of old will be nothing, compared to what I will build. Here where the nights last for days I can move freely and raise enough followers to gain true power. And then once I rule all the northlands, I can move south, and Tara and the elven kingdoms will fall easily before me."

"But..." Aidan couldn't quite help himself, the objection was so obvious. "During the summer the sunlight lasts for days too. What are you going to do then?"

Jander showed his fangs and actually growled at Aidan, and suddenly he didn't look amiable at all. "Don't question me! By the time summer comes my power here should be sufficient to move south." He glared for a moment, then shook his head and put the friendly expression on again, like a man donning a mask. "And if I am to build my power, I must begin now, with you."

If Aidan could have backed any further away, he would have. Did this crazy vampire mean what Aidan thought he meant?

"I can smell your fear," said Jander. "It is very sweet, and it should flavor your blood quite nicely."

Gods no... Aidan shuddered. But there was nowhere to go, and the vampire moved with lightning speed to grab Aidan and pin him against the wall. Aidan struggled, and he managed to draw one of his daggers this time, but the vampire batted it easily from his hand. Jander held both his arms, his fingers gripping tight enough to bruise, and leaned close. Aidan couldn't bite back the whimper of terror that rose in his throat. "No... Please..."

"Pleading, how marvelous," Jander said softly in Aidan's ear. "I terrify you, don't I? You are more afraid than any I've taken before. It is quite wonderful." And then he bent his head and bit down on Aidan's neck.

Aidan cried out, and tried again to jerk away, but he was hopelessly pinned, the other would have been stronger than he even were they both mortal. And then he felt the vampire's mind touch his. As he had once touched Flame Song's mind, blood creating a bond between them, now Jander was bonded to him. But what Aidan and Flame had done was a kind of lovemaking, and what Jander did now was a kind of rape. He knew it, knew exactly how terrified Aidan was, and it pleased him. Aidan could sense his pleasure, twisted and sadistic. Jander's feelings assaulted him, battered him with gloating laugher at his pain, and the feel of his fangs was more painful too, fire spreading from Aidan's neck to run through every part of him, every nerve protesting. He tried futilely to shrink from it, to somehow withdraw his mind, but he could not. The other wrapped around him in a parasitic embrace. And like a parasite he was growing stronger as Aidan weakened. He's killing me, thought Aidan, and there was a kind of relief in the thought. I remember... I remember how hard it is to stop, how hard it is to not just take it all. He won't be able to. He'll just kill me, and it will all be over.

And then it was over. The vampire pulled back physically, though his mind still touched Aidan's, still gloated and laughed. Aidan slumped weakly, but despair rose up in him. He was still alive. There was no escape for him in death now. Death would take him soon, he knew, but not to keep.

The vampire laid Aidan on his back on the floor, and then picked up Aidan's own dagger. His smile was sadistic, and Aidan could still feel it, feel how he reveled in the evil of what he was about to do. With a quick motion Jander tore the knife across his wrist. His blood welled up, thick and red. He pressed the bloody cut to Aidan's lips. Aidan tried to turn his head away, but Jander's other hand grabbed his hair, held him in place as he forced his blood into Aidan's mouth. He tasted it, couldn't help but taste it, coppery and sharp. It suddenly seemed to burn on his tongue, a burning that flashed all the way through him, and then darkness welled up and quenched the flames, and he knew no more.