Albie sat with his back to the counter. His breath was labored. Gasping for air was painful. Watching the officers in the room argue had been interesting. While it had happened, he had spit out more liquid unlife. Even now the black liquid leaked down his chin. His could not change his flesh while he breathed but a few drops had caused the wood floor to try to harm him. He feared for his coat and the rest of his clothes. Unable to move well he had sat still not whipping his mouth. He sent word for the bees to get something living for him to leach from, but they had yet to provide.
The lurker did not like sunlight and was unlikely to move until sundown. Even then it didn't seem the type to take prisoners.
Bags was unlikely to be of use. He was also not interested in seeing her point of view as she conceived her first litter.
The thought made him think of the twilight hours spent with Cat attempting the same. His wife's warmth during the winter was missed. He longed for her embrace as he sat on the floor. Tears came to his eyes. He thumbed the moon stone around his neck. If only she had survived, they could have run away together. Maybe start over somewhere else. If they could have escaped across the border were the Queen didn't order her people slaughtered.
The royal bitch. Perhaps he should put a collar on her before he killed her. Drag her around the castle on a leash on all fours beating her senselessly if she dared to walk like a human.
"Damn, her," he wheezed. "Damn her."
His whimpered cursing was interrupted by the sound of clopping hooves a few streets over. The cavalry was out searching for him. Bags was still underground so he could not see the outside. He couldn't tell how many horses were outside. They did sound like they were going slow perhaps trying to avoid slipping on the bodies of nearby streets.
Dangers aside the men or the beasts would be fine meals. Horses in general seemed like hearty beasts full of life force. He reached his mind out to the larger bees. His mind was lean from hunger and the thoughts of dragging a man or beast to him was easily communicated by his starving mind.
The emaciated young man sat in his place waiting. A pistol was fired in the distance. The blast startled him he hoped that his bees were all right. He then heard a man's shouting come closer. Perhaps not shouting but screaming in terror. It came closer and closer. A black claw opened the door to the lab as a man in an orange coat was flown by four bees into the room. They hovered in place in front of Albie each holding a struggling limb.
"Put me down," shouted the man. "get me away from this corpse."
It was difficult to move his hand. Albie caught himself using the power stored in his moon stones to reach for the man whose eyes had grown in shock upon seeing a corpse move.
The man stared in shocked silence as Albie touched the man's cheek only releasing a whimper. The mage began to siphon the life from the young solder extracting a shriek of fear. The solders body seemed to dry out as the life force was stolen from him. He ground until his lungs were empty of air and then the light of life in his eyes began to dim. After a minute more the eyes shriveled as well, and the man was nothing but a drained husk in a loose-fitting orange uniform.
The young mage stood up after his meal. He stole the mans powder box and shot before ordering the bees to fly the body to the other side of town and drop it. The neighing of a horse came from outside.
"Jones I'm coming," declared a voice from the hospital entrance. "If you can hear me shout!"
Albie walked into the hallway where he could sneak a look at the would be rescuer. The man was another well dressed orange coated man with riding boots. In his right hand was a saber in his left a pistol. It was just the one, but Albie didn't want to waist his precious energy on healing those wounds. The meal was too tempting to kill with a hundred bee stings. He would have to trap the man. Albie lipped his lips in anticipation.