The Taste Of A Warrior

Part 10

Posted: October 2003
Author: Dhvana

*****

***WARNING: Multiple character deaths and strong violence.***

It is early in the evening, and even though we've only had one kill apiece, that one may have to suffice thanks to the chemicals now running through our borrowed blood. Tonight's dinner was donated by three lovely young women on holiday from California who would never see their sunny state again. However, it's rather sweet to think that they carried their state with them in their veins.

"What were they on?" Eric giggles as I lightly nip at his neck, my body pressed fully against his.

"I don't know," Gale says from behind me, his hands buried in my hair, his mouth on the nape of my neck, "but it did give their bodies the most beautiful blue-green flame as they burned. I wonder what other colors we can get when we mix in different kinds of drugs."

"We'll have to experiment later," I answer, pushing back into Gale and pulling Eric with me, "because right now, all I want to do is find the nearest bed, bury myself inside of you," I kiss Eric fully on the mouth, then reach behind me to rub a hand over Gale's groin, "and have you buried inside of me."

"Sounds like a plan," Gale says, grabbing my hand and leading us out into the street.

There is a whistling in the air and his body jolts, stumbling backwards a couple of steps. With a panicked look, he pushes Eric and I away and jumps to the other side of the alley.

"Gale?" Eric asks, fear growing in his eyes as he focuses on the blue irises of his mate.

"I love you," Gale says, and then his body catches fire. The flames flicker through his veins and even as he opens his mouth to scream, he is gone. We watch, too stunned to even blink, as he disintegrates until only a pile of ashes remains.

"Gale," I whisper, feeling Eric trembling beside me, both of us staring at the scorch mark on the ground. I can't move. I can't think. It all happened so fast--too fast. He can't be gone. He can't be—

The whistle of an object speeding through the air alerts my ears and I slam into Eric, pushing him to the ground as two bullets hit the wall where our hearts once were.

Eric is up and moving towards our attackers before I even have time to recover. He rips the head off one man, his fist flying against the temple of another. The second man crumples to the ground, unconscious and possibly dead.

Another bullet grazes Eric's arm, alerting us to the presence of two more hunters. He leaps past the first and tackles the other, forcing him to the floor of the alley. The remaining man jumps forward as if to intervene, but I grab him, holding him back.

"No, cherub! He will kill you both!"

My blue-eyed hunter watches with horror as Eric pins his companion to the cement, his teeth tearing into the exposed neck.

"PAUL!" my cherub shouts, struggling against me with all his might.

His anguished voice rips through my soul, and I know that he loves the golden-haired man lying in front of us, the man whose life is being drained from his veins.

Releasing my cherub, I grab Eric and pull him off the injured hunter. My cherub kneels down at Paul's side, tearing off his sleeve and tying it around the wound on his neck to staunch the bleeding. Standing over Paul, I protect them from my heartbroken lover.

"Orlando, move!"

"No," I answer, keeping my voice steady though my heart is breaking. Not only have I lost Gale, but I have never seen Eric like this. His eyes are wild, his mind beyond reason. We may have to end his suffering if he cannot control his grief, and I don't want to do that. I don't want to lose him, too.

"Orlando, they killed Gale!"

"And you killed one of them, possibly two, and seriously injured a third. Leave them be."

"I know that one is under your protection," he growls, looking at the cherub, "but you have no right to keep me from the other. They must pay!"

"And they have. Go back to the villa, Eric."

"Orlando—"

"Now."

I don't often use the authority I have available to me because I don't like to, but the only way I can think of to try and keep Eric under control is to put the full force of my age and power into my command.

His eyes flash, his body shaking with barely controlled rage, and I know I will have to offer him retribution for this later. First, however, I need to get him out of here.

Please do not fight me, Eric, I think, willing him to do as I say. Don't make me hurt you, not when you've been hurt so much already.

But my will is useless.

Seeing the decision in his eyes, I inwardly heave a little sigh while outwardly, I barely have time to prepare for the attack. His foot connects with the side of my face and I am thrown across the alley. I use my impact against the wall for momentum to turn and pounce on him. Eric is knocked off his feet, grabbing me as he goes down. We roll around on the ground, fighting to gain dominance, and while I may be older and more powerful, Eric is larger and a better fighter.

With the same move he used to dominate Paul, he pins me to the ground and sinks his teeth into my neck. He cannot kill me, but he can weaken me until I am unable to fight him.

Suddenly, his body goes still and I scramble out from under him as his veins burst into flame.

I crawl backwards until I hit the wall, unable to tear my eyes away from the burning body of my friend, my lover. Even when he is nothing more than ash, dust to be toyed with by the breeze, I cannot look away.

They're gone. Gale and Eric are gone.

But I am not.

Slowly, I raise my eyes to see Elijah standing over Eric's smoldering remains, a gun in his hand. Though his body is steady, his eyes are conflicted as he points the gun at my heart.

"Do not try it, cherub," I say softly. "You caught them by surprise. It is not the same with me."

He looks into my eyes and gives the hint of a nod, but does not lower the gun.

"Why?" he demands. "Why did you protect us?"

"You have been under my protection for a long time, ever since you started hunting me." At seeing the growing confusion on his face, I give a little shrug, smiling wearily at him. "I like you. As for your mate. . . you saved my warrior, and now I have saved yours. I have repaid my debt to you."

"Your warrior?" he puzzles, his frown deepening, and then his eyes widen. "You're talking about Colin, aren't you? The man you almost killed in Ireland."

"Colin," I whisper, testing the taste of his name on my tongue. I never knew it before now, but it feels right in my mouth. "Colin, yes, he is the one. You did save him, did you not?"

"If you're asking whether or not I found him after you attacked him and was able to get him to a doctor in time for the transfusion to work, yes, that was me."

So much sarcasm, so much bitterness in his voice. How can he expect to hunt me when he doesn't understand me at all?

"Thank you," I say, holding his blue eyes, and again, his many conflicting emotions and thoughts leave him stranded. "You should call for help for your mate and the other one over there. He is still alive, but just barely."

My cherub glances past the grisly remains of the beheaded man, the blood pooling around his body, to the hunter lying in a heap on the ground.

"Stuart," he whispers, tears filling his eyes. "I thought he was. . . He's going to wish he was, when he finds out about Ka—" His eyes move again to the decapitated man and the last of his control vanishes. My cherub rushes to the wall, heaving out the contents of his stomach onto the ground.

I carefully push myself up off the earth, my side twitching with broken ribs, my face aching from what must be a broken cheekbone, not to mention the various bruises all over my body. Those will heal quickly, the broken bones will take longer, and as for the bite in my neck--a day's sleep, at least. Playful bites we can recover from easily, but a bite intended to mark, intended to kill, those require time to heal, depending on how much blood was drawn from it. From the hunger in my veins, Eric drew a lot of blood.

I need to find something to eat. I need to go home. I need George, but I cannot go to him, not yet. George will already know something is wrong, and I need to get away from here before he finds me, or he will kill my cherub and his mate and the other hunter as well. No amount of protection from me will keep them safe.

"You should leave," I say as my cherub tries to collect himself. "Not just here, but the city. All of you. George will be coming for you, and he will not let any of you live. And if Angelina finds you first. . . you will wish you had died here with the other."

"Angelina's here?" he asks, his voice hoarse from vomiting. His eyes somehow manage to grow even wider at the mention of her name, and I nod. It is good he is familiar with her. He will know that my urgency is not feigned.

"I have to go, before George finds us. I will try to give you time to escape Venice, but you should act quickly. I will not be able to stall him, either of them, for long."

"Why are you doing this?" he asks, stopping my halting escape. "You know this isn't going to end. You know we'll still hunt you."

"Just as we will continue to hunt you," I sigh, suddenly hating this incessant cycle. "As to why I am doing this. . ." I turn to meet his eyes. "Protect my warrior, my Colin. Keep him safe."

I am halfway into the street when I sense that he has followed me. I turn to find him watching me, his eyes revealing his struggle to find the words for what he's feeling.

"What do you want, cherub?"

"It wasn't a game, was it?" he asks, alarm and dismay filling his voice. "You really do love him."

"It is hopeless, I know," I say with a little smile, "but it seems that I do."

"He will never love you."

"You know this for sure?"

"He hates you."

"Because hate is easy. Because he thinks he should. And he may be right," I shrug, "but I have time, time for him to learn another way of thinking."

"You killed one of his lovers tonight, left the other for dead, attacked his friends. He will always think of you as a killer."

"I didn't kill them," I say, glancing at the bodies behind him--they were his lovers? "And I protected you."

"Your kind killed them. Vampires killed them. He will not see the difference."

His shock at the night's events must be fading for him to speak so boldly, so filled with assurance. He is remembering who he is.

"Do you the difference, cherub?"

"You are a vampire," he answers, his voice harsh, "and I don't care what you did tonight. This was one incident. Next time, none of us could live."

"That is true," I sigh, tired of this discussion. "I am going now. Is there anything else you want to know?"

"Stay away from Colin."

I smile, shaking my head, as I turn back around. It is pointless for me to remain any longer. He has made up his mind, and now, I am only the enemy.

"COLIN!"

Sean's voice follows me as I run from the building, but I don't turn back. I can't turn back, not after hearing Elijah's story, after watching them carried in. I can't go back in there to see Stuart lying nearly lifeless in the infirmary, and Karl—

I stumble, choking back a sob.

Not Karl. Why did it have to be Karl, with his easy smile, his infectious laugh? Karl, whose tongue was absolute magic and whose mischievous mind taught me how to hide a lit cigarette in my mouth when Sean was around. And the light in his eyes when he looked at Stuart. . . oh, god, Stuart.

Karl and Stuart balanced each other perfectly. Without Karl, Stuart will never make it. His darkness will devour him.

I hope he never wakes up. I hope he slips away and that Karl finds him and that the two of them will be eternally happy wherever they are.

At least Paul is safe. If Elijah had lost Paul--but I don't want to think about that. Elijah has Paul. Karl doesn't have a head, I snicker, but Elijah still has Paul.

You're not being funny, I scold myself. This is no laughing matter. Stuart's as good as dead. Paul's throat is half missing. And the headless hunter will be haunting you till the end of your days.

Headless hunter, I snort. Maybe we can stick a pumpkin on his neck.

No, wait. That's the headless horseman.

Oh, god, I'm going to be sick.

I rush around the next corner and lean my head against the wall, waiting to throw up, but though my stomach rumbles menacingly, nothing happens.

I take several deep breaths so the nausea will pass, then turn around and slouch against the wall. My eyes focus across from me and I yelp to see I'm not alone. There is a man sitting on the ground, his knees bent, his arms around his knees. All I can see is a head of dark brown curls, curls I recognize instantly.

No fucking way. How the fuck did I end up here? I get lost walking two blocks outside of the headquarters. This can't be the same place, but looking at the stain on the wall, I realize it is. I've found my way to the exact same alley were I ran into Orlando only days before.

And where I've run into him now.

"You miserable fucking son of a bitch!" I growl, falling towards him with my hands outstretched. I long to wrap my fingers around his fucking neck, but stop when he raises his face. Losing my balance, I land on my ass and just stare.

I hardly recognize him. His beauty has been completely ravaged. His neck is shredded, his face swollen and looking as if he barely survived a boxing match with a rainbow. It is his eyes, though, that are the most changed.

He is afraid.

"Colin," he whispers, then glances towards the entrance of the alley. "You shouldn't be here. You have to go."

I don't move.

"Go away," he growls, baring his fangs.

I shake my head. Is that supposed to scare me? I've seen his fangs before--they're not enough intimidate me now.

"What happened?" I ask.

He says nothing, just lowers his head back to his knees.

"Elijah said you saved him. He said you saved Paul as well. Why would you do that?"

"The cherub is under my protection."

The cherub?

Elijah. Of course.

"And Paul?"

Silence.

"What about Karl? And Stuart? Why didn't you save them?"

"They killed Gale," he answers, his voice hard. "Eric went mad. There was nothing I could do for them. I had to fight Eric in order to save the other two, and then the cherub killed him. That's all there is."

"The fuck there is. We're packing up and running. You keep sneaking glances towards the street, afraid of who's coming around the corner next. This is only beginning."

He sighs, shaking his head. "This is our world. You hunt us. We hunt you. There is anger and hatred and resentment on both sides. There is no beginning. There is no end. This is it, the same thing, over and over and over and over—"

"Enough!" I shout, grabbing onto his shoulders. He raises his haunted eyes to meet mine. "It doesn't have to be like this."

"Of course it does. There is nothing else. You and your kind hate me and mine." He gives me a grim, mocking smile, though I cannot tell if he is mocking me, or himself. "All I am to you is a walking corpse."

"And what am I to you?"

He does not answer. He does not need to. Everything he's trying to hide his eyes say for him.

Looking into those deep brown eyes, I don't know what to do. He tried to kill me, once. His friends killed a man I cared deeply about and nearly killed another. He is a murderer, a monster. He isn't even human.

"You're not safe here," he says, looking down at his feet. "You should leave before George finds me."

"Will you follow us?"

"I'll keep George from doing so. Angelina. . . she will hunt you. You'll have to be careful. You should go home, to Ireland. You'll be safe there."

"I won't abandon them. Elijah and Paul will need me. And Stuart. . ." I don't know how to finish that thought.

"You care for him."

His voice is flat, devoid of emotion. I nod. "He and Karl. . ." My throat tightens, tears filling my eyes. "They offered me comfort. They offered me friendship. They let me be part of their love, for a little while."

"As did Gale and Eric with me."

"It felt good."

"It was nice to have someone to turn to."

"Someone to hold me at night."

"Someone to make me feel whole."

"And now they're gone."

"Yes," he whispers.

"Orlando. . ."

The vampire looks up, his face shiny with tears tinged in red. Tears tinged in blood. But at least it's not their blood.

Leaning forward, I press my lips to his.

He doesn't respond at first, but slowly begins to react, his mouth opening to welcome mine. It must have hurt like hell, considering the condition of his face. Still, he doesn't stop. In fact, the next thing I know, I am lying on my back with him between my legs. Our hips grind together, my erection increasing as it comes into contact with his. I grab him by his curls and shove my tongue into his mouth, exploring everything, especially the pointed teeth.

I graze my tongue along the tip of one a little too hard and gasp as it cuts into my flesh. Orlando is off me and across the alley in a flash.

"I can't. . . I'm too. . . Colin, I'm sorry."

He turns and is gone. Sighing, I let my head fall back to the ground. Big mistake.

"Ow. Fuck," I grumble, rubbing the bump on the back of my head.

I'd better go. I don't want them leaving without me, and I need to check on Stuart. I should be there in case he wakes up.

And Orlando. . . He was an even bigger mistake. I should have left the second I laid eyes on the vampire. I don't know what I was thinking by kissing him. It was a stupid thing to do, an impulse brought on by a night filled with horrors, and I swear to myself it will never happen again.

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