The Taste Of A Warrior

Part 19

Posted: October 2003
Author: Dhvana

*****

He left.

Part of me hoped he would stay, the part of my heart that shattered as he turned and walked out the door. When I heard him pause, my shattered heart mended once more, believing he had changed his mind, but by the time I looked up, he was gone, and the pain returned once more.

How could he leave?

"Because you told him to, you stupid fucking idiot."

I sigh, throwing myself stomach down on the sofa where we'd been sleeping so comfortably only minutes before and bury my face in my arms. "How long have you been listening?"

"Too long, apparently. I should have come in here and knocked both your heads together hours ago. Or locked you both in that room."

"Well, I wish you would have. Then he could have someone else to blame other than me."

"Orlando," Angelina says softly, kneeling down next to me, running her fingers through my hair, "he doesn't blame you. He blames himself. This is why he's so unhappy, why he keeps rejecting you."

"Blames himself for what?" I ask, turning my head to meet her concerned blue eyes. "He hasn't done anything wrong."

"Except betray the people who've become a family to him by falling in love with you."

"Oh, well, that," I snort, burying my face once more in my arms. I try to sound dismissive, but my voice sounds sad more than anything else.

She's right. I can't expect him to give up these people, this existence, when they've been the only thing to keep him alive, whereas me and mine have only caused him pain. I certainly can't expect him to want me knowing it will hurt them.

I should let him go. I should just forget about him all over again.

She rests her head on my shoulder, sliding her arms around my chest, her voice vibrating across my empty lungs. "Go get him, Orlando. If he's going to insist on being stubborn, you're just going to have to out-stubborn him, and you've got a talent for out-stubborning people. Don't forget about him. You need him."

"Why?"

"He centers you, gives you an anchor in this world. You've gotten so used to just flitting around that you barely even exist anymore."

"I have George. George is my anchor." George, to whom I haven't spoken since I ran away. George, who's always been my father, my mentor, my brother, my friend. I should call him, but I'm afraid--afraid he'll be angry, afraid he'll disapprove, afraid he'll try to stop me, though stop me from what, I'm not quite sure.

"You are George's anchor, Orlando. If it wasn't for you, he would have given himself up to time centuries ago."

"But I need him, too."

"Yes, you have a perverse symbiotic relationship. I know that. But it doesn't mean you can't have someone else as well."

"I'm supposed to share myself with George and Colin? Oh, I bet they'll love that."

"Let me see if I can put this into perspective. Are you fucking George?"

"No!" I snap, turning to glare at her.

"Can you picture yourself bringing Colin the day's newspapers and then prevent him from reading them by asking him the same incessant questions about your life you forgot you asked only a week ago?"

"That's hardly an equal comparison. Just because we don't fuck doesn't mean I can't picture myself fucking George, unlikely as that is, and clearly, Colin doesn't know anything about my life."

"You see? This is exactly why you need them both."

I arch an eyebrow. "So I can have one to fuck and one to pester?"

"So Colin can provide you with the physical and emotional companionship that George can't, and vice versa."

"Well, gee, when you put it that way, I can almost hear the birds twittering outside the window and feel the sting in my arse where some winged brat in a diaper shot me with an arrow," I snarl in response, once more facing the worn pattern of the sofa. I wonder where it was she dug up this place. It's lacking our usual luxury, but I guess since I let Colin go, it's better that we're not in one of our usual haunts. Now he can't lead any of his hunter friends here.

"I'm just trying to give you a clear and concise picture of why you and Colin should be together. If you want something a little less clinical sounding, the two of you are fucking head over heels for each other. The only problem is that you're a vampire."

"Or that he isn't."

"True," she says, nodding her head. "Want me to amend that?"

"No," I growl. "The last thing I need is for him to hate me forever--literally. Besides, I think George would like that responsibility. I need his approval, anyway."

I can almost hear her rolling her eyes. "Orlando, why on earth would you need George's approval?"

"Because I love him, and I trust him, and I know he would never place my life in the hands of someone who isn't worthy of me."

"Why can't you trust yourself to make that decision?"

"Angelina," I laugh bitterly, shaking my head, "last month is something of a blur for me, let alone who I am. Like you said, I barely exist, even to myself. George knows me. If I'm going to bind myself to someone for eternity, George will know better than anyone if he's right for me."

"And this is a prime example of one of the many reasons why you need Colin. You can't rely on George forever."

Frowning, I sit up, needing to look at her, to see the expression on her face. I can't rely on George forever? He's George. He's always going to be here forever, unless she knows something I don't, but what? It isn't as if he's going to have a terminal illness or anything. What is she threatening me with?

"Why did you say that?"

She sighs, moving to sit next to me on the sofa. "Orli, you know George loves you, and I know you love him, but he's old. He's growing tired, a little more tired every year."

"You sound like a mother trying to explain to her son why his favorite pet needs to be put to sleep," I say with a weak smile, hoping to hide the fear growing in my heart.

"Well," she says, her voice hesitant, "that's not entirely inaccurate."

"No. You're almost as old as George is, and you don't seem tired."

"I don't carry the weight that George does. He doesn't just hold you, though you cover about seventy-five percent of his heart, but he holds all of us."

"Are you saying that I'm such a burden to him, I'm killing him?"

"Oh, Orlando, no!" she cries, taking me in her arms. "If nothing else, you're the last bit of life he has left. What I'm saying is that he may need to take a break from everything."

"Like a holiday?" I ask, my frown deepening, and she gives me a wavering look.

"Well, sort of. He needs rest, Orlando, to shut himself away from the world for a little while and give his ancient body, his ancient soul, a chance to regenerate. The only reason he hasn't so far is because of you, because he worries about what will happen to you if he isn't around."

I bite my lip, staring down at the hands in my lap. I'd never considered how selfish my forgetfulness might be, especially to George. I might be killing him. If this holiday, or break, or whatever the fuck it is he needs, if it will help him, then I will do everything I can to make sure he can go with an easy heart.

"Do you really think he won't worry if I have Colin?"

"Assuming he likes Colin, yes."

I lean against her, resting my head on her shoulder. "You know I was going to go after him anyway, don't you?"

"Were you?" she asks, and I can tell by the indifferent tone in her voice that she's been aware of this fact all along.

"I may be a little unhappy with him right now, but I still want him. I'm not going to let him just walk out of my life. Not entirely, of course. I mean, yes, he walked out this evening, but I'm not letting it end there."

"I know, sweetie," she says, stroking my hair. "And knowing you, you'll find someway to convince the stubborn little human to stay. Come on, let's go grab you a bite to eat, and then we'll call George. That way, when he asks, you can honestly say that you've been eating."

"Okay," I say, standing up and offering her my hand to pull her to her feet. "Think he'll be mad?"

"I'm surprised Italy's still attached to Europe," she grins. "He's finally learning to control his temper."

"Or he's holding it all in till he talks to me," I say, feeling a slight hint of dread.

She laughs. "True. I am so glad I'll be here to eavesdrop on this conversation."

I at least wait till she's out the door before I give her the bird.

"I saw that."

Bitch.

"I heard that."

I grin, and follow her out the door.

We've been trying to reach George for three nights now, but his mobile goes directly to voice mail. This is not a good thing--George is never out of contact for this long, so in an action designed out of pure cowardice, we've decided to stop trying. It's probably safer that way. When he wants to reach us, he will.

But at least that makes my life easier, for a little while. I'm now free to spy on my warrior without any inhibitions. Basically, what George doesn't know, won't hurt him. Or me. Or Colin.

He's so beautiful, I sigh from my rooftop perch, watching the flexing of my warrior's muscles as he holds the machete in front of him.

My warrior and his fellow hunters have cornered three vampires, and if the hunters ever get around to making the first move, they might actually win. The vampires aren't exactly the most stunning specimens of my kind--they're probably not more than five or six years old, but the humans don't know that. Still, neither do they attack.

The four humans and the three vampires have been dancing around each other for ten minutes now. Since all four humans are under my protection--four! Maybe Angelina was right, I am trying to protect them all--the vampires cannot attack unless attacked first. Meanwhile, the humans are so confused by the vampires' lack of initiative that they suspect a trap. It's funny, in a warped sort of way, but I'm quickly growing bored.

All right, time for some fun. The green-eyed man is definitely first on the list--teach that bastard to kiss my Colin. Good thing names aren't important, only intentions.

Snickering evilly, I whisper, "Green Eyes, you are no longer under my protection."

The vampires instantly sense the change and charge forward.

"Green Eyes, you are under my protection."

The vampires screech to a halt, growling in confusion. The humans stare at them, bodies tensed, equally confused.

Oo-oo-oo! This could be fun!

"Green Eyes, you are no longer under my protection."

The vampires attack.

"Green Eyes, you are under my protection."

The vampires stop.

I am getting a kick out of this, but enough playing with him. Let's give them someone else to chase. Cherub, time to see if your man is worthy of you.

"Elijah, you are no longer under my protection."

The vampires attack, the golden haired man immediately leaping in front of him, oblivious to Elijah's snarl of frustration at the man's good intentions. Don't be too mad at him, cherub. This one's a keeper.

"Elijah, you are under my protection."

The vampires stop.

"Green Eyes, you are no longer under my protection."

The vampires attack.

"Green Eyes, you are under my protection."

The vampires stop.

I roll around on the roof, laughing hysterically. The expressions on all seven faces--priceless! They haven't a fucking clue as to what's going on.

"Fuck this," my warrior snarls and lashes out with his machete, lopping off the arm of the nearest vampire.

"Oh, damn," I mutter. That impatient son of a bitch. Now my warrior is the only one they're free to attack. At least he's got friends.

The four immediately begin hacking away at the three vampires, Elijah and Paul using their nifty little exploding bullets--which aren't terribly effective at close range, my warrior and Green Eyes using blades.

Too bad all the humans are so distracted, they don't notice a couple of vampires sneaking up behind them.

Oh, this isn't good. Not that they can do anything until the humans attack, but there's still a good chance this could turn ugly.

Pursing my lips, I whistle, then duck away from the edge before anyone can see me. When I look back, my warrior is taking on the two new vampires. He beheads one while raising his gun and firing on the other.

Okay, my warrior is standing maybe five feet away, and he only manages to nick the vampire's arm? He really needs to stick to blades. He is absolute crap with a gun, and now the vampire looks less than pleased. In fact, the vampire looks positively furious, and that's never a good thing.

My cherub and the other hunters only have one left, so Green-Eyes immediately rushes to my warrior's aid. I'm beginning to like that man less and less, but he does appear to be handy in a fight. The vampire is gone within seconds, all the vampires are gone, and the hunters are unscathed.

So why is my warrior wandering off?

"Take care of the remains," he calls to his companions. "I'm going to do a quick perimeter check, make sure there are no surprises."

He sounds so professional, I think with a note of pride, following him along the roofs. When he is safely a couple blocks away, he pauses, then stares up towards the sky.

"Orlando!" he hisses, trying to keep his voice low. "Orlando, if you're up there, get your parasitic arse down here!"

Not the most polite of invitations, but all right. I leap down behind him and he whirls around, using his arm across my throat to hold me against the wall.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing? I had to fight like hell to get Marton to let me out in the field again--I've spent the past three days convincing him that I'm not a vampire spy and that you were only playing mind games with me, and if he thinks I'm working with you, he'll happily kill me himself! You are jeopardizing my life and my work by being here!"

"You know you're gorgeous when you're angry, don't you?" I grin, looking into his flashing brown eyes.

He gives me a look of complete disbelief, his anger momentarily replaced by shock. I almost feel sorry for him, but I'm having too much fun. "You're insane."

"Yes, but that's nothing new."

"Why the fuck are you following me?"

"Because if I was ahead of you, I wouldn't be able to watch you walk."

His eyes narrow, the anger returning. "God damnit! Would you be serious for one fucking second?"

"Okay." I pause. "Second's passed. Now what?"

"Orlando!"

He's grinding his teeth so hard that they're cracking. All right, I'll let him off the hook.

"Colin, I'm not following you. I'm just trying to make sure you don't get hurt."

"By following me."

"How else am I going to make sure you don't get hurt?"

"You're going to drive me completely mental, aren't you?" he says with a hint of defeat in his voice, the pressure against my throat easing.

"It's not the main reaction I want from you, but it'll do for now," I grin.

He shakes his head, though his eyes remain fixed on my face. "I'm never going to get a straight answer from you, am I?"

"You could just shut me up," I say, letting my eyes linger meaningfully on his mouth.

"I could do that," he says, taking a step forward and pressing his body against mine.

It can't be natural for a dead man to feel so much heat whenever he's around.

"I've been thinking about you," he says, his lips ghosting across my own.

"You have?" I ask, resisting the urge to grab him. I need to let him have control right now.

"There's something I've been wanting to say."

"Yes?" I gasp as his hands lower down my chest to rest on my hips.

"Thank you."

Suddenly, I feel like I'm dying, but it's a good thing, because Colin's holding me and kissing me and burning me from the inside out. It is a soft kiss, barely hinting at the passion we've known before, but it almost feels better because it is sweet, and tender, and caring. It is a languid kiss that could go on for hours as we thoroughly explore every cell in our mouths.

"COLIN!"

There is a frantic note in the shout of my cherub, whom I seriously consider killing for a second there, and Colin slowly releases my lips.

"See you around," he says with a cheeky little smile and I watch with hope sprouting in my heart as he runs off to join his friends. He loves me. He may not be ready to admit it yet, but I can sense it. He loves me.

Shoving my hands in my pockets, I turn and walk in the other direction, whistling as I go.

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