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The amount of pussy glop he drained out of Victor was almost twice the young man's body weight. And on Angel's side - it hurt. A lot. It was all he could do to keep from screaming. All of his senses were going hyper active - he could smell the rot in his body - hear the sickly glooping pop as the mess was slowly squeezed out, and the sticky glop as it was dropped into the stainless steel bowl. And then Doc poured the holy water onto it.

Victor gave up the battle and screamed, clutching at the bedposts. Nothing that had ever been done to him had hurt this much. It was boiling oil being left in a raw wound - it was grit being rubbed into his most tender points - it was heartache beyond everything he'd ever experienced - His fangs slid from their sheaths, and he screamed again. Doc Peterson blinked, and stared for a moment.

"Son," he breathed. "Did I just see what I thought I saw?"

It was a brief respite from pain, and Victor blinked back tears clouding his eyes and hissed.

"Do. Your. Job. Doctor."

And the pain began again.

At last the pain was gone, and Victor heard the faint hissing over his own labored breaths.

"Is that everything?"

"My leg?"

"Got it."

"And my chest, arm, throat?"

"All clean."

"Good." Victor passed out.

When Victor woke up, it was night again. He was still lying on the bed, though it appeared the sheets had been changed. He sat up, not feeling any of the stiffness that had plagued him the night before. A quick glance under the bandages on his chest showed that the wound was healing up smoothly. But then again, other than the bandages, all Victor was wearing was his shorts, and that was a little more exposed than he cared to be. His pack was waiting at the foot of the bed, and he dressed briskly, frowning at the still slightly damp jacket, which had obviously been cleaned while he slept. What he'd been wearing last night was probably a lost cause by now. The slim young man headed down the stairs into the doctor's main room, and found Shaper waiting for him.

"Well look who's awake," grinned the rizen. "Been waiting for you."

"It's after dark," Angel said briskly, glancing out the strangely unshuttered window at a town which was blazing with lights. "Where's Amy?"

"She took a mob of villagers to burn out the other end of the pipe," Shaper said with a yawn, adjusting his belt.

"What?" Shaper suddenly found himself straining to reach the floor, Victor holding him firmly by the lapels. "You sent Amy out - with only a bunch of norms for backup?"

"I didn't..."

"Shit - she shows a bit of vampirism, they'll turn on her - " Victor rushed out the door. The other end of the pipe was miles away - he wouldn't reach it on foot nearly soon enough. As he rushed past the smithy, he saw the smith a work, and the head of a curious eyed horse sticking around a corner, watching the smith.

"Mr. Wayland!" called Angel.

"Dr. Angel, Sit, You're up - "

"I have to move - Can I borrow that horse?" Wayland turned and glanced at the horse, who looked back at him, ears flicking.

"I guess..."

"Thanks." Victor grabbed the reins, and clucked to the horse. The greyish-dappled beast was huge! At the shoulder it stood almost as tall as Victor's head. But Victor didn't have time for that - it looked strong, and the long legs - even with the big hooves and horse feathers, spoke of speed. He swung up onto the small saddle glad that it wasn't on where you had too straddle the horse's back, and goaded the beast down the road. Shaper came panting up, just as Victor disappeared into the woods.

"You ever seen Dr. Angel ride before?" asked the smith.

"No... why?"

"Then I hope his god goes with 'im."

The woods flew by, the horse was as fast as the shape had promised. And in what seemed like moments Victor heard screams.

"Circle her!"

"Damn it!"

"Burn!"

Victor drove his heels into the horse's side.

"Faster, Damn You." With a startled snort, the horse leapt forward, catapulting them out of the forest and into the firelight of a good two dozen torches, that glittered on the water of the river - and on the sickly rotting form of the vampire.

"FLANK HER!" he yelled over the sound of the mob. "For god's sake, don't let her get in the water!" Victor looked for Amy's pale hair in the crowd - and saw her in between the creature and the water. The horse snorted and reared slightly - it had caught a whiff of the rot vampire - and it didn't like it. But unlike most horses who would have run - the damn beast charged her. Which put Victor hurtling straight for Amy - but not in any way he would have chosen. The rot vampire threw herself to the side and shrieked as one of the townsfolk thrust a brave torch into what remained of her hair. The horse pivoted at the sound, and Victor had to hang on for dear life. The creature screeched again and made a break for it - right towards Amy -

The only one not carrying a torch, because it would be as deadly to her as the rot vampire. Victor let go of the reins, drew and fired in a single breath. The rot creature's head exploded in flames, and it collapsed to the ground, dissolving into a pile of muck and maggots, which soon became a pyre of torches, as the mob of townsfolk buried the creature with their brands. It wasn't pleasant to watch, but Victor did anyway, watching the pile of flesh and rot dissolving in the golden flames until nothing remained but ashes. a double handful of the townsfolk remains well, as the night stretched on, and the ashes cooled, they helped Victor gather them up and scatter them, making sure not one single maggot survived.

"That was," Victor said with a grimace, "one of the single most disgusting episodes in my life." He turned to collect the horse and got caught in a kiss. His helpers cheered, and Victor returned Amy's favor with interest.

"How you doing beautiful?" he asked her. "Been busy while I was out of commission I see?" The albino woman snitched his clove, blew a smoke ring in his face and flashed one hand in an unmistakable 'okay' sign. "You're irrepressible Amy," Victor said with a smile. She gave him a wink. Angel turned his attention to the townsfolk. "Is everyone alright?" he asked, genuinely concerned. "No scratches, or bites?"

A brief mumble as the inspected themselves, came up with nothing more than a few light burns where they were careless, and a serious case of the heebie-jeebies from what they'd seen.

"Wow," Victor said and gave them all a broad friendly smile, which made Amy look at him in shock. "I'm very impressed - I didn't do that well against this thing - but I think it's pretty safe to say that the rot has been burned out." A cheer. "And it was you that did it."

Amy smirked, and quirked an eyebrow at Victor that plainly said "When did you start spouting rhetoric?"

"So, everybody back to town, and get some sleep - life goes on." There were some chuckles and mutters about a little celebrationary drinking that they had in mind, and Victor offered Amy a hand up onto the large gray horse's back.

"Haven't seen you about much," he said in a conversational tone. Amy made it perfectly clear that she knew he'd been avoiding her. He stated to climb up onto the horse's back, then paused to adjust the stirrups. "You're a fast horse, bucko," he said to the equine and patted it under its mane. "Time for a nice slower walk home though."

About halfway back to the town Victor realized that far too much of his energy was bravado. Amy had to help him onto the horse. If she could talk, she doubtless would have voiced some concern, never having seen Victor as exhausted as he was then, as was the slim woman just wrapped her hands around his and offered what comfort she could.

The sun was starting to rise as they arrived in town, so Amy scooted to shelter, and he returned the horse to the blacksmith.

"Thank you," he said simply. "It was a big help."

"Big horse," chided Shaper. "How'd a little thing like you handle it?"

"Same way I handle you, idiot," Victor shot back playfully, "with a big stick."

"Did ya?" asked the blacksmith curiously.

"No, no. He's well trained enough that I didn't hardly even have to touch him."

"So Damyew behaved himself?"

"The horse's name is 'Damn you'?"

"Yep," the smith said with a laconic grin. "First time I was showin' him, he kicked me, so I just looked at him and said ŒDamn you,' and finished the job, an' that's been his name ever since." Shaper stifled a giggle.

"So that's why he hurried up then," Victor said, biting his lower lip to contain his own laughter. He reached up and patted the large gray horse under the mane again. "Well, thanks Damyew. You were a big help."

The horse nibbled at his hair affectionately.

"I think he's taken a liking to you, Dr. Angel."

"Lord help me." Victor rolled his eyes and headed in to get a little rest. So much for his peaceful village.

The village was anything but peaceful the next night. On such short notice, they had put together a wonderful celebration for the heroes who had rid the town of the monster - and Victor stubbornly refused to take all the credit, even though they would have gladly given it all to him, along with half the town treasury.

The next day, Victor gave up on trying to get rest in this town and decided it was time to leave - as quietly as possible. However, as he headed out of town in the early morning, Doc and the blacksmith caught him.

"I thought you'd be heading out soon," Doc Peterson said with a nod.

"Before I wear out my welcome," Victor said with a small smile.

"You're not likely to do that anytime soon," the blacksmith said. "Some of the townsfolk are like to thinkin' you could walk on water."

"God forbid," Victor said in shock. "I'm just a man."

"Even still, it t'aint right you should leave with no more than you came with an' a few scars." Victor gave a wry smile. New scars - one a mark of smooth skin over the mess of tissue that ran down his chest, were shiny slick everywhere the rot vampire had attacked him. But that was the legacy of his trade, and there was nothing he could do about it.

"So - Here," the blacksmith put reins into his hand and Victor looked up into the serious brown eyes of Damyew.

"A horse?"

"Don't be thinkin' I'm doing you a great favor," the blacksmith said. "No one but me can work with the damned beast - you're the first one who he's ever shown any liking to."

"Mostly my hair apparently," Victor said saving his spiky black locks from consumption.

"And I've still got his brother Fucal* for my heavy work." Victor let out a chuckle.

"Not much for animal names are you?"

"Hell no," the blacksmith said, turning and heading back into Layne. "Fucal's a stud."

Victor chuckled again.

And I put some medical supplies in the saddle bags, Angel," Doc said and rested his hand on the smaller man's shoulder. "Something tells me that you're going to need them."

"Probably sooner than I really want to," Victor said with irony. "This town ever gets reinfested, you just remember what I taught you. That trick works with normal vampire bites too; cleans out all sorts of taint."

"Will it work on werewolf bites?"

Victor turned towards Damyew to hide a smile, and climbed into the old saddle with a little effort.

"Hell Doc, what are they teaching you now a days - most werewolf bites aren't infectious." He paused. "But if you soak a piece of silver in it for at least a day and a night, yeah, it'll clean the taint."

And Victor left, secure in the knowledge that Shaper would be along the first time he stopped to rest Damyew, and Amy would show up at nights, especially if he needed her.

"Damn it anyway," he muttered.

A leggy mare in a pasture looked up and watched him pass in confusion.

*Pronounced "Fuck-all"