The Taste Of A Warrior

Part 27

Posted: November 2003
Author: Dhvana

*****

"Drink, little one."

Though my eyes are not working, I do no need to see to know what is being offered me. The scent of blood fills my nose and I dutifully open my mouth. My throat works of its own accord to push the blood down my esophagus and into my stomach, the healing plasma spreading quickly through my body. My mouth recognizes the taste of the blood and I know immediately who is offering it to me. I tasted it on my first night as a vampire, and I taste it now on what would have been my last.

George's powerful blood pulses through my veins, mending and rebuilding the damage done by the hunters' vile concoctions. Images of our life together fill my mind and for a moment, I must struggle to keep what is me on the surface and force him down. If his life is allowed to overwhelm mine, there will be nothing of me left. I risk becoming a copy of his memories of me.

"Keep going, little one. Drink. Stay with me."

His cool hand caresses my forehead, his touch comforting, soothing away the horrors of the past night while anchoring me to the present. Knowing he is here, with me, guiding me, helps me keep control.

Minutes later, he withdraws his wrist from my mouth. "Enough, little one. We'll have to find something more for both of us to eat before you'll be back to your old self again." I nod as he chuckles softly, brushing his hand over my smooth skull. "I'm going to miss your curls, but don't worry, I'm sure they'll grow back soon."

My curls? My hair? It's gone?

I'm afraid to think of what I look like. The stiff crackling of my skin warns me it is not a pretty sight. I open my eyes just a hint, and grimace. It's going to be days before my skin is back to normal again. I look like a fucking mummy.

A rumbling shakes the building and George quickly leans over me to hide me from the particles of falling plaster.

"Angelina will bring this place down around our heads if she's not careful," he grumbles, but there is a levity to his complaint. He's hoping she tears the place down. "We should get out of here."

Carefully, so as not to cause me any unnecessary pain, George helps me to my feet.

Looking around the room that has been my prison, I am happy to know it wont be around much longer. I hope I can stay awake long enough to see it fall. Still, glancing at the two bodies on the floor, I can't help feeling something's not right.

"George," I say, then frown, my voice foreign to my ears, "am I forgetting something?"

"Like what, little one?" he asks with a puzzled, but amused, smile.

"I don't know. I can't quite remember."

"Orlando," he says with an indulgent laugh, "there is so much that fits into the category of things you can't quite remember, I wouldn't even know where to begin."

I smile, leaning against him for support. "You're right. Silly question."

He kisses my forehead, then lifts me gently into his arms. I'd like to protest that I can walk on my own, but I'd be lying. Even with the help of George's blood in my veins, I know I'd be lucky to reach the door. Only we're not heading towards the door, we're heading towards the broken window.

George maneuvers me through the frame and lowers me as far as his arms can reach, which is still six feet from the ground.

"Ready, Colin?" he calls to the figure waiting below.

"Absolutely," my beloved says, and I can hear the grin in his voice.

"Here he comes."

George releases me and I fall into Colin's waiting arms.

"Hey," he smiles as I clasp my hands around his neck.

"Hi," I say, smiling back.

"Did you miss me?"

"You were gone?" I tease, reaching for his lips, but he pulls away.

"Fuck yeah, I was gone! Did you hear that last explosion? I got to help with that one. Angelina's got a real talent for blowing things up. She promised she'd teach me."

"Just what I need," George says dryly as he lands next to us, "another vampire with a fondness for incendiary devices. You two are going to blow yourselves up one of these days. And speaking of blowing things up, we should get moving before her next surprise ignites."

"You're sure they're all out of the buildings?" Colin asks as he glances back at the hunters' headquarters, concern for his friends rampant in his voice.

"We managed to chase them all out, but whether or not they stay out is up to them."

"George—"

"Colin," he says, his voice hard, "to be quite honest, their welfare has no place on my list of concerns right now. If they cannot listen to reason, or have difficulties understanding the meaning of the explosions around them, it is their fault, not mine."

My warrior's eyes flash with anger, but he otherwise keeps his mouth shut. I can tell he's going to have to go through a lot of adjustment before he will be able to get used to being a vampire. It's going to take him for him to realize that his world is now one of us versus them, and we're not terribly fond of them, just as they aren't terribly fond of us. He doesn't have to kill his friends, but he should understand that they're going to be more than willing to kill him.

The sound of a cocking gun grabs our attention and we turn to see a tall blond man staring at us with devastated green eyes, the barrel directed at us, or rather, at me.

Colin's arms tighten as he stares at the man. "Sean, don't do this."

Sean just shakes his head. "Marton is dead. Christian is dead. Matthew, Guy, David, they're all dead. And you think I'll let them live? You think I'll let you live?"

"Sean, I am sorry for their loss. They were my friends, too, and the last thing I wanted was to see them dead. But what did you expect? You took Orlando," he says, holding me even closer against him. "You should have known they would come for him."

"And Marton? For gods' sakes, Colin! How can I forgive you for Marton?"

I hear the man's breaking heart in his voice, and I know that it is the loss of his love that is the true cause for his grief. Seeing as how I nearly lost my own beloved not too long ago, my heart aches for him. Maybe it would be better for him if we were to end his pain and allow him to join the one he lost.

"Sean," George says softly, stepping forward, "I'm sorry. Marton. . . I know you loved him, but Sean—"

"Stop it, George," Sean says, shaking his head. "Just stop it. I don't want to hear from you how he was insane, and obsessed, and dangerous. I know this. But that didn't stop me from loving him. It made me love him even more, because I knew he needed me."

"Then, with these thoughts of the love you shared in your mind, look at Colin and Orlando. They need and love each other, just as you and Marton needed and loved each other. Let them go."

"George, you've always been good to me, and I've appreciated the relationship we've shared—" Colin and I exchange looks of surprise at this. "—but it is my duty now to take up Marton's dream of ridding the world of vampires. I'm sorry."

The bullet slams George's body against the wall as Colin and I both cry out in horror, but are silenced as the gun is turned on us. One look into Sean's green eyes, and I know we are lost. I bury my face in Colin's neck, breathing in the scent of cinnamon and cloves, and wait for the bullet to strike.

"Sean, no," a quiet voice says, the young man placing a hand over his. "There's been enough killing for tonight."

Our gazes shift to see my cherub staring intently at his leader, willing Sean to give himself up into Elijah's control. The older man's trembling body is barely able to hold the gun steady as he turns to look into the intense blue eyes.

"Elijah. . ."

"Another time, Sean. Not now," he says, pushing the gun down. He removes the weapon from Sean's hand, replacing it with his own. "We need you."

"But what about. . . ?"

"Another time," he repeats, his voice quiet, but determined.

Sean is silent for a moment, then sighs, and allows Elijah to lead him away. My cherub glances back at us, meeting my eyes.

"Thank you," I mouth, and he nods.

For the first time in my life, I hope this is the last time I ever have to see him. He doesn't deserve to suffer through our games any longer. But now, with Sean out of the way, I can now give myself over to more immediate concerns.

"Colin, George."

He carries me quickly to our maker's side and sets me down next to him. George's face is creased in concentration, his body tensed as if he is focusing on something beyond his control. I reach for my creator's hand and pull it from the wound in his chest.

"Orlando," he gasps, his eyes flying open as he pushes me away. "You're still healing and this is one of their vampire-killing bullets. Don't touch me, or whatever it is they put inside might infect you."

"George—" I begin to protest, needing some way to help him.

"It's all right, little one. Just give me a minute."

"All right?" Colin snaps. "George, you've been shot. What can we do?"

"Colin, I'm trying to fight it. My blood is not exactly at its full strength at the moment. I'm just a little weak from changing your life tonight and healing my Orlando," he says, smiling fondly at me, which I know is meant to reassure me, but it doesn't.

This is George, my almighty creator, who should never feel any weakness or pain. I have never seen him at anything less than his full strength. Having fallen asleep so many days with my head resting on his strong chest, I would have never thought anything could penetrate it. He's supposed to be invincible. If he falls, how do we stand a chance?

Damnit! Where's Angelina when you need her? It'll take blood as powerful as George's to help him fight the chemicals in his body.

"Will my blood work?" Colin asks, baring his wrist and holding it out to our maker. "I've got both you and Angelina in me. I mean, all things considered, it surely can't hurt."

I give Colin my most loving smile as George nods.

"That might do the trick," he says, and Colin kneels down next to him, placing his wrist to our maker's lips. George's teeth sink into his skin, and a quick grimace of pain crosses my beloved's face as George draws the blood deep from Colin's veins.

It is several minutes before George releases him, and Colin falls against the wall next to him. My creator looks almost as good as new. The wound in his chest has completely healed, and whatever it was the hunters placed in that bullet seems to have been defeated.

"I'm beginning to see why Orlando's having so much trouble getting rid of you," George says, grinning at his newest creation. "You taste delicious."

"Yeah, well, don't get used to it, old man," Colin grumbles, but there is a flush of pleasure on his face. He enjoyed that more than he's ready to admit.

"Old man?" George says, arching an eyebrow. "Don't get smart with me, little one. I made you, I can unmake you."

"Yeah, yeah, sure you will. I'll believe that when I see it, gramps."

"GRAMPS?" A second eyebrow joins the first.

"Gramps--I like that," I grin, and George shoots me a dirty look.

"Don't start, little one, or you'll have to make your own cocoa from now on."

"Yes, George," I say meekly while trying to swallow my smile. Even if I do look like a creature from B-movie hell, I don't think I've ever been happier than right now, listening to their banter.

Another explosion rocks the ground beneath us, and we look up, startled as the dust falls from the roof above.

"We should probably go before Angelina finishes her job," George says, pushing himself to his feet. He seems a little unsteady for a moment, then straightens himself up, brushing the dirt from his shoulders. "Colin, would you do the honors?"

"Gladly," my beloved answers, and one again lifts me into his arms.

"This is so humiliating," I mutter as we begin walking down the street. "I can't wait until I can use my own two legs again."

"Oh, I don't know," Colin grins, pressing his forehead against mine, "I can get used to this."

"Having me helpless and at your mercy?"

"Having you always close enough to kiss whenever I want," he says, and presses his lips to mine. He is cautious at first, afraid to hurt me as his mouth gently caresses my own.

Adorable, but unnecessary. I never have to worry about being hurt when my Colin's mouth is concerned.

I quickly deepen our kiss, lips and pointed teeth pushing against each other, my mouth opening as he seeks entrance. He doesn't even hesitate to run his tongue over my fangs and the taste of him fills my mouth. Only, there is a new taste in addition to the cloves and cinnamon, to the heat and iron that comes naturally to my warrior. There is also George and Angelina, the lingering hint of pain and suffering he never experienced in his human life, and one more thing. . .

Pausing in our kiss, I look at him, licking my lips as I try to place that one final ingredient.

"What is it?" he asks, frowning.

"Shh. . . I've almost got it."

"Got what?"

"It's sweet. . . but tart. . . rather crisp. I've got it!" I laugh, nuzzling his neck. "Apples! You taste like apples, and cinnamon, and cloves."

"So what are you saying--add some sugar, and I'll taste just like an apple tart?"

"Well, you got the ‘tart' part right," I wink.

"You're insane," he chuckles, kissing me lightly, "but I love you."

"I love you, too," I grin, returning his kiss. I feel like I could do this forever, and lucky for me, I can.

Another explosion lights up the night behind us as the last of the hunters' houses crumble to the ground.

"Not bad," Angelina says as she joins us, sliding an arm around George's waist. "I think I've finally got a handle on the whole implosion concept."

"You do beautiful work," he agrees, kissing her as we watch the burning buildings.

"Yeah, well, I wish I could say the same for you. What have you done to my nephew?" she says, staring at me, and I would give my right arm for a blanket to hide under.

"He's going to take a few more days to recover," George answers, his voice hard, but Colin just smiles, rubbing the tip of his nose against mine.

"Don't listen to them, my fanged parasite. I think you're beautiful."

I smile adoringly at him. "That's all that matters to me, my apple tart."

Angelina slaps her hand over her mouth, but doesn't quite keep her laughter from escaping.

"Apple tart?" George asks, and I grin.

"You tasted him--doesn't he taste like an apple tart?"

His face grows thoughtful for a moment, and then he nods. "You know something, you're right. He does taste like an apple tart."

"That's it," Colin growls. "The next person to call me an apple tart is going to get staked."

"You've got it, A.T.," Angelina says, trying to keep a straight face.

"If that's what you want, Tartman," George says.

"We promise to behave, apple cheeks," I say, my entire body shaking with barely contained laughter.

"I hate you all," Colin mutters, then says a little louder, "Shouldn't we get moving before the authorities show up, or the hunters decide to seek revenge?"

"Probably a good idea," George says, his face sobering as he leads us down the street. "I think it's time we head across the Channel. Your friends are going to take a couple of days before they're able to regroup, and I don't want to be here when they do."

"Can Orli travel like this?"

"I'll be fine, luv," I say, resting my head against his shoulder.

"Yeah," Angelina says. "We'll just tie a couple straps around him, glue on a handle, and shove him in the overhead compartment bin."

"HEY!"

"Don't worry," Colin says, voice lined with mischief, "you may look like old luggage, but I won't let them do that to you."

My eyes narrow. "Bite me, apple cheeks."

"If you ever want to see my apple cheeks again, you'd better stop that."

"For what I've got planned, I don't need to see them," I smirk, and he growls, kissing me hard.

"Wait till that burned bum of yours is healed. By the time I'm done with you, you'll feel like old luggage."

"Taken to places I never imagined? Sounds good to me."

"Would you two cut that out?" George says, rolling his eyes.

"Oh, let them have their fun," Angelina says, giving him a quick squeeze. "They've earned it. And so have you."

She reaches down to pinch one of George's apple cheeks, and he yelps, sweeping her into his arms despite her indignant shriek, which he quickly silences with a kiss.

"And he wonders where I learned all my bad habits," I chuckle fondly as they momentarily get lost in their own world.

"We'll be teaching him some of our own, soon enough," Colin says, giving me a soft kiss.

I hope he's right, though once this all sinks in, I have a feeling it will take him a little longer than he realizes. It isn't every night he's going to die, come back to life as a vampire, and be forced to fight for that life against friends he once considered to be his family. If I thought he'd accept, I'd teach him how to forget, but I have a feeling my warrior is going to want to remember.

At least I'll be there to help him through it, every step of the way, even if it takes an eternity.

Or until I'm well enough to give him the fucking of his lifetime.

After all, there are some perks to being a vampire he hasn't had a chance to experience, and I can't wait to start showing him.

Imaging those perks, I smile and snuggle contentedly against him as we quickly make our way to the nearest hideout. Angelina and George make us wait outside until they're certain its secure, then tell us to get some rest while they make arrangements for us to leave that night.

Even as he double-checks to make sure that the sun won't enter the room while we're asleep, I can see the shadows starting to settle on my warrior's face.

"I do love you, Colin," I say as he curls up next to me on the bed, wanting him to know this entire night hasn't been for nothing, that despite everything that happened, we still have each other.

"I know, babe," he says, wrapping an arm around my waist, his eyes already drifting shut with exhaustion. "I love you, too."

Just when I think he's fallen asleep, my warrior looks up at me and smiles.

"For eternity."

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