Foxx tried to bring up Zabier’s image in his head… He saw a tall man, skin as deep in tone as Daydric’s, hair as black as his… Yet…the face…
“I don’t know why, but it feels like the memories are more a faint dream than anything. Even Zabier’s face is coming up blurry in my mind.”
It was as if the memory didn’t want to come fully forward. Had...Daydric done something to put it from his mind? Could he do something like that? Why…would he though?
“Was it a long time ago?”
“I’d only been with Daydric for a hundred years by that point…I think. Either way, the council tried, but he…” Foxx’s eyes widened and he took a shuddered breath. A chill going down his spine, he stuttered, “H-he m-marched them out…like they were puppets.”
“So that thing you told me he could do, by rumor only, was…not so much a rumor.”
“I… How...”
Harlow growled. “The bastard obviously fucked with your head!”
Foxx sighed. “Well…that may explain my fuzzy memories of that moment. Daydric likely prefers it that his ability remains a rumor only. He has his secrets, he always did.” He shook his head. “It…is what it is. Either way, the council’s misjudgment that day…pushed Daydric’s hand…and he changed her. Well, it was less that they pushed him and more that he did it out of petty defiance. So, yeah… Daydric changed her. But before that, they bound her… The transformation seemed violent, and almost painful.”
“Would she have done whatever the fuck I did a few rooms over if they hadn’t?”
“Though I’m certain they could have controlled her with or without the restraints, I imagine that was the reason. You certainly weren’t in control when I arrived…even if you did possibly pretend to be passed out. Dhampirs live on vampire blood. It only makes sense that in the state you were in…you were stronger than someone even my age.”
Instead of a crack at his age like normal, Harlow rasped, “You…couldn’t get away. That’s why I was able to drain you…”The dhampir slowly stepped away from him, arms falling to his side, his face grim.
Foxx grabbed his hand and squeezed. “It’s not your fault, you had just turned. Dhampirs…” He winced. “I wish I could stop saying ‘I think’, but I’m just not sure. I believe I’m remembering things that I’m saying, but it’s all so fuzzy. I think it’s normal, that what happened with you was normal. The lack of control. The girl… When she was changing, Daydric…he said…she’d entered a state of blood burn.”
Blood burn… Yes, that’s what it was…
“I don’t care if it’s normal, or if it’s whatever this blood burn state is… Will I attack you again?”
“You shouldn’t. I don’t think you’d fall into a blood burn state, even if you got really hungry now. I’m pretty sure that the only way to enter it is either by conscious choice or by accident due to extreme emotions.”
“Well...I’m not someone who has strong emotions, and I have no clue how to purposely bring it on.”
“I think we should be fine. Let me…test something.” Foxx held his hands out in front of him about five inches apart. “Try to press my hands together.”
Harlow’s brow rose. “Do what?”
“Try to press my hands together. Push as hard as you can.”
“Are you sure?”
“Just do it, old man. I’m trying to see if you are stronger than me. And I do mean press, don’t try to slap them.”
Harlow took a deep breath. “Okay.”
Placing his hands on the outside of his, Harlow started to press. As the man pressed harder and harder, Foxx’s hands started to shake, feeling as if he was overexerting himself.
“Okay, stop!”
Foxx cracked his knuckles on both hands, rubbing them out.
Harlow frowned. “I didn’t move them…so I guess this means you are still stronger?”
“I can’t say yet. It's my turn. Same position as me, try to hold me back.”
The dhampir sighed and held his hands up. After two minutes of trying, while the man’s face was red from exertion, his hands held strong. Foxx stopped with a huff.
“So?”
