Speed

“Hurry on home,” he said to the motionless Lina, just as he was about to
gallop off. “You’ve got a date with the Capital.”
By the time the girl had raised her face in consternation, D was racing
like a scythe through the wind.
The sheriff hastened after him.

As he gave pursuit, the lawman watched with disbelieving eyes. Despite
his own speed, the gap between them rapidly grew. It wasn’t on account of
D’s horse. Due to his line of work, one of the first things the sheriff noticed
about any outsider was their mount. He’d found that if he had some idea
what sort of beast everyone was riding, it made it that much easier to come
up with some strategy in the event he had to chase them down. D’s horse
was just the standard, run-of-the-mill type that could be picked up in any
village. Even tuned up, it shouldn’t be able to match the sheriff’s custom
grade steed, two miles per hour faster and twenty percent more durable than
the average. It shouldn’t have, but it did.

What the blazes . . . Does this guy use magic or something? I thought I
heard something about him being a dhampir . . .
Finally, some idea of the uncanny power of the Vampire Hunter—
abilities he had only heard rumors of—began to seep into the lawman’s
understanding.

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