The Hunger by Susan Squires

Tonight I will show you one of the most useful gifts from our Companion.”
    “Translocation!” Beatrix practically squeaked .
    “How does it work, Stephan? Show us now,” Asharti commanded .
    “First you must understand the process,” Stephan said patiently. “You call your Companion and it lends you its power. If you draw enough power, a field is created around you. Light does not escape. Others cannot see you.”
    “You mean we are invisible?” Beatrix asked, shocked .
    “I have seen it with Robert,” Asharti said smugly .
    “And then, my pets, if you continue to call, the field becomes so dense it pops you out of space. You can learn to direct where you will reappear, with practice.” He saw Asharti start to speak and lifted a finger. “You must hold to me, so that we end in the same place. It hurts a bit. So be prepared.” He lifted his cloak and they snuggled into his body, one on each side .
    “Now call,” he ordered .
    Beatrix thought a connection to the one who shared her blood . Companion, come to me.
    She felt a tingling rush of power down her veins. “Again,” she heard Stephan say, from farther away, it seemed . Companion! The world went dark around them. She couldn’t even feel Stephan beside her. The tingling ramped up and up, and she wasn’t sure she had control of it. It engulfed her, mastered her. Her Companion cried out for life, and power. Pain engulfed Beatrix. The world disappeared. And then the pain was gone. The world appeared. She felt Stephan clutching her shoulders. But it was a different world than they had left; a dark alleyway that stank of cabbage and piss. A series of buildings, all in some state of disrepair, lined both sides of a narrow dirt passage. Loud, deep voices and shrill laughter came from inside the largest of them “Voila!” Stephan announced. “The yard of the Rose and Thorn in Sigishoara.”
    Beatrix looked around, trying to get her bearings. “We can do this . . . anytime we want?”
    “It takes much energy. There are limits,” Stephan warned. “And it takes practice.”
    “Freedom!” Asharti hissed. Her eyes glowed .
    Stephan nodded, smiling, and pointed. “The next man that comes out the front door is yours, Bea. Do as I have taught you. Take but a little, and we will practice again tonight.”
    Asharti clung to his torso and rubbed herself like a cat against him. “Stephan, I am hungry. I should go first,” she pouted. Beatrix did not like how Asharti had begun to treat Stephan over the last several weeks. This kind of cloying behavior made Beatrix’s blood boil. The puzzling thing was that Stephan did not try to stop it .
    “Your turn will come.” Stephan drew them forward to peer around the corner of the building. He nodded at Beatrix as the door to the tavern swung open. Light and noise spilled out across the narrow dirt track of a street. But the man who stumbled out was gray-haired. His face was marked by an early encounter with the pox .
    Beatrix shrank back, shaking her head. “I don’t like that one.”
    “You do not need to like them, Bea. They are food.” Stephan said, exasperated. He had never been exasperated with her in front of Asharti .
    “Can I not take one more comely?”
    “Bea is going to take forever. Hold me, Stephan, to keep me warm.”
    Stephan put his arm around Asharti. Beatrix resolved that the next man out the door would feel her compulsion, no matter if he was a leper. The older man staggered off down the street. It was late. The moon was setting behind the buildings. Surely the men would come out soon to go home. She jerked toward the opening door. A man stumbled out and fell on his hands and knees in the street . Let him not be vomiting. Beatrix thought as she glided out of the alleyway. The man picked himself up and swayed, looking around to get his bearings .
    “Good evening,” Beatrix said softly in the language of Dacia, where Castle Sincai sat. The man was young, though not as young as she or