Vampires Make Great Sparring Partners

To start things off right, here's an excerpt:

 

Vampires make great sparring partners.

It's true. If you can find one that trusts you enough. The problem is that most vamps are hopelessly paranoid about anyone who isn't a vamp. They seem to think that we all have it out for them. Therefore they tend to be rather reluctant about letting anyone near them with anything that might hurt them. I know, vamps are supposed to be super tough and all that. It's sort of true, they are hard to kill, no doubt about that. Short of complete decapitation, they can survive just about anything. They also can heal any non-lethal injury, but not instantaneously like they show in all the movies. It still takes some time. If you beat the snot out of them, you could take your time about finding a sharp sword to finish them off, because they're not going anywhere fast. Hence, the reluctance I run into when I want to spar.

All that being said, I do have it out for quite a few of them, but it's not because of their race. Fact is, I've got a long list and while some are vamps, most aren't. I'm what you might call a bounty hunter, or a mercenary, or some worse things if you're feeling lucky. There is a limitless supply of punks, creeps, bozos, freaks, etc..., who need to be put out of their misery or otherwise stopped. The best part is, people will pay for it. Who says honest work can't be fun?

"Nice shot," I said as I looked in the mirror at the result of Tommy's last punch which had slipped past my guard. My tanned cheek had a red spot where his knuckles had made contact and there was a sweet tang in my mouth. My smile was as red as the streak in my spiky black hair and it widened as he tried to sneak up behind me for another cheap-shot. He made no sound as he approached and he had no reflection in the mirror. I waited for the moment, then ducked and twisted in a smooth, fast motion. Tommy cursed loudly as his hand met only air where my head had been a second ago. Shards of the mirror went flying.

"You'll have to do better than that," I chided as he spun around to face me again, a dark look on his pale face. I had pushed him to the brink; he was struggling to keep his bloodlust in check. Vampires don't have auras, but if he did, I knew I would have sensed it bubbling in rage. I grinned as he came in swinging, trying to land another blow. I evaded his fists and countered with a solid side kick which knocked him backwards and into another wall, upsetting his recliner in the process. Even the mildest vamp can only stand so much. He broke.

He bared his fangs, his eyes faded and an inhuman scream sounded as he leapt at me with unnatural speed. I took a breath to calm myself. I didn't want to hurt him. I just steeled my will against him and he bounced off the invisible power of my aura. He hissed as he looked at his mildly burnt hands. Nothing he couldn't recover from in a few hours, but it hurt and vampires have a very real fear of fire. The threat sobered him and he slowly reverted back to normal.

"Why do you do this to me, Josey?" he growled at me. "I don't enjoy having the snot beat out of me. Do you treat all your friends like this?"

"Don't be such a puss, Tommy," I said, wiping my face clean on the collar of my shirt, which was dark red anyway. In my line of work, any color that didn't show bloodstains was a good color. "And be glad you're my friend. I do considerably worse to my enemies."

"I feel so lucky," he sighed. He negotiated the overturned furniture and after kicking aside a chair, retrieved a dark green wine bottle from the fridge. After taking a couple of deep swigs of thick red liquid, he relaxed a bit and his eyes began to have color again.

I guess I should feel a little guilty about upsetting him, but I didn't. He might be the closest thing I had to friend right now, but he was still a vampire and I had to keep my skills up if I expected to live very long. It's funny how things like survival can get in the way of empathy and such. I don't just mean my survival either. It's true that when you make your living hunting down supernatural bad guys, you have to have some crazy skills that you can't exactly practice down at the local gym on unsuspecting humans. Obviously, supernatural sparring partners are a must. But the real reason I prefer to work out with auraless beings like vampires is the fact that my self-control isn't what it should be. See, I'm a magus and when all it takes is a thought to produce an instant effect, emotional and mental self-control can be a life or death matter. As it that wasn't enough to deal with, I'm not just your run of the mill mage. I'm a red magus, a purros magos if you like greek classifications. My magic is most aligned with the fire element. To put it simply, if you want large explosions and fiery destruction, I'm your wizard, but such potent energy comes with a price. A red mage's aura is one of the most unstable there is. Which amounts to a very sort temper and a rather volatile existence. In fact, it's one of the reasons my kind are so rare. Most reds, who come into their power without proper training and guidance are overwhelmed by their own magic. You hear about those cases of spontaneous combustion? Odds are good that the victim was an undiscovered red. It boils down to this, a slip in control could in the best case means somebody gets burned. Worst case, things get blown up. Either way, bad things happen. And whatever they may say about me, I do have principles. I'm one of the good guys---or at the very least, I'm not one of the bad guys.

After Tommy finished off his bottle of blood and regained his wits, he wisely decided to bring me a tall glass of ice water.

"Here, I've had my refreshment, now it's your turn to cool down," he said with a bit of a smirk. He says everything with a bit of a smirk.

I accepted the glass---with only a minimal thought about its potential as a nice, sharp weapon---and took a long drink.

"Very Funny," I chided. But, he was right. I did need to cool down, literally. I was a bit warmer than usual. One of the more inconvenient side effects of being a red mage is the heat generated anytime I use my power. Another reason Tommy was such a good sparring partner, he didn't mind the temperature change. It's hard to hone my martial skills against a normal human if they start sweating before the fight begins.

I finished off the water and handed back the glass. I didn't thank him and he didn't expect me to. I was under no illusions as to the nature of our relationship. We were both here and being civil only because we didn't have a good reason to kill the other---yet. He wasn't being kind, he was just being prudent. A calm red is a good mage when you don't want things to catch fire.

Despite being beaten on for the last hour by yours truly, Tommy was actually quite cheerful. When you've been around as long as him, I suppose it's a little harder to get worried. Or maybe it's just Tommy. With his unkempt head of sandy hair, crystalline blue eyes, and carefree personality, he reminded me of one of those young gunslingers on a old western. The ones who always thought they were faster than everyone else and usually ended up getting shot for their trouble. I figure plenty of people underestimated him because of his looks. Who's takes a cocky twenty year old seriously? Problem is, he only looks twenty. I don't know how old he really is. But he's been around at least a couple hundred years. He talks about his part bout as much as I do, that to say, not very much. All I know is that he fought with the Missouri border raiders in the Civil War. When he's feeling good, he tells me stories about the James and the Youngers. Like a said, he's a hard customer. I'm glad he's on my side---even if he isn't...

"Josey, m'girl, now that you've greeted me with your usual charm and trashed my living room. Why are you here?" He flashed a lopsided grin. "Or did you just come to see me?" he drawled, his blues eyes twinkling.

'"Much as I adore you," I said and I' never sarcastic... "I'm here on a job and I thought you might want to tag along."

"Will it be fun?" he asked.

"You tell me, Hoss. What do you know about the biker bar out near the county line, on highway 232?"

He grinned wider, teeth showing. This was going to be fun.