a dance with death

“I know what you thought.” It would always be the first thought, the first reactive thought until the day that it actually happened. The prospect of the woman at his side being hunted down by one single group of people a daily passing thought which cut half moon shapes into the palm of his hands and left him standing in the most protective stance possible no matter where he was; he no longer listened for the calling in the wind of wolves and their rogue moons, he didn’t care for the glistening glimmer of crimson across pavement, scattered by the messy feeding of vampires. They provided sport, entertainment, but nothing ran his blood colder than those with such magical abilities coming into town that he didn’t know. Red creek forever a beacon for such people, it left him looking around every corner and cursing the afterthought of how his life had differed before her. Witches could be easily dealt with – and Zeke didn’t doubt her ability to strip them of all things necessary to make her life a living hell, but never once could he possibly believe she could ensure it ended in an entirely different sense. It was where the line drew between them; he’d never blink in taking a life, regardless of who it was. He’d kill his best friend if circumstance served, Zeke finding no sense of leniency in keeping Lenore alive.  Brows twisted a lowly arch and he only offered her the most minute passing side glance he could offer while headlights lit up the road in front, “It doesn’t matter whether you did or didn’t..–” He could hold claim to the idea that he believed her, but he knew that the hunter in him would always flicker flame of doubt, no matter how deafening the beating sound of his heart detested it. “I’m not about to let them storm my house and drag you out by your fucking hair,” Not knowing what followed. The coven – the hunters, they were angry, and rightly so. He was pissed, and under different circumstances, he’d be the first one through each and every door belonging to any single person holding magical capabilities just to watch the shifting features he’d find when they worked out what he was doing. “I’m not.” He spoke sharply, the rapid incline of the road ahead deeming it harder for her to look at her as he spoke. “I’m not upending my life, Lenny. That’s not what this is.” At least not yet. He hadn’t quite come to that passing settlement in his head, for now — for now he simply needed to find a moment, to take back the ground he needed for stability, something of which he didn’t find in the hammering panic the night provided. “I don’t have anything else back there for me anyway.” Not without her.

It’s fleeting, the curvature of a half-smirk with a fondness which doesn’t quite reach her eyes as she relegated her gaze back to the evening beyond the windshield. "You can always read my mind.” Her life had hung in the balance for so long now that perhaps Lenore had simply grown accustomed to the constant fear, the paranoia which blossomed each time she glanced over one shoulder. “Have they been in my house?” The basement came to mind immediately, the plethora of mystical objects and black magic grimoires laden about the entire space. Surely enough had been strewn about to paint a rather decent picture, enough for any hunter to connect dots and draw a mistaken conclusion about precisely who was behind the murders throughout their bloody little town. Her secret would no longer be viable, all evidence of her perceived villainy would be aired in the open and once more she would have a coven at her back, along with the enraged band of hunters seeking a scapegoat.

"To me it does. And it matters to me that you know it, too.” His belief in her had kept the witch remaining on a solid path for so long, she detested any notion that he might waver now. “You might as well be. The second they come looking for you and realize you’re gone too, they’ll put the pieces together. People will know what we are, Zeke. Hunters will know what we are.” That the woman he rested his head beside each night was far more than a passing face in the crowd, that their lives were so fervently intertwined to the point where no one, living or dead, could sever their bond. The more violent ones would take umbrage with that fact, perhaps even going so far as to lay waste to everything Zeke Callen was--- his home, his life, his reputation. Her stomach turned over at the very thought that he might risk such retribution for her alone. “Me neither.” She would call Cait from the road, reassure her that everything was status quo; the final lie in a lifetime of deception.

A silence falls over them as the town limits approach, the weathered sign which signaled an end to a journey which had altered her life so completely in the form of the man beside her. How could she have known well over two years prior that she might become enraptured with another person so fully, how parting from him in any sense ached with such ferocity that she might choke on it. Despite her protests about his involvement, it was the singular reason for why she couldn’t deny him as they crossed over the invisible line which marked the end of Red Creek. “I love you.” The first time she’s uttered those words of her own volition, weighted beneath the gravity of their situation and the uncertain future looming beyond the scope of his truck’s headlights.

It felt like it had before, running from the hellhole of a town like he once had in search of something else; something that could fill the gaping hole left behind by the mutilated bodies of his parents. It felt like before, and yet the hammering of organ against his chest plate rivaled the anger that had swirled in fingertips all those years ago. Now, now it spun fruitlessly with the prospect of what else this cesspit could take from him. Zeke knew there wasn’t much time, even still, he made quick work of his home, it did no good to leave it looking as if he’d run, but it wasn’t for him. Had he known it was him they were after, he’d have waited on the front fucking porch for them.  Despite knowing his truck held more than enough ammunition to keep him going, he left behind only what he couldn’t carry on his own, taking only a moment to cast the last bag into the tray before he slipped into the drivers seat and turned the engine over. They didn’t have long, someone would work out he hadn’t returned and come looking, for one reason or another. He was never alone in his skills of observation, in the plethora of hunters that lived here, one of them would notice the distinct pattern. Zeke didn’t run, and with both of them gone, it’d be enough to fill in the gaps. Throwing the truck into reverse, he pulled out quicker than most would deem necessary and pointed the car towards the mountain range. “Bad.” It was all he could manage while he traced over the thoughts in his head, already picking apart a list of options for them. He held no interest in going too far too quickly, sticking close to the town lines left him the option to at least keep track of those following. He’d always hated looking over his shoulder, better to stare imminent chaos right in the fucking eye. “The bodies they’ve found were all siphoned of power, all of them.” No matter their species, and that alone sparked power unparalleled. “They’re dragging in every witch they can find that isn’t aligned with the coven, and they’re not being too fucking graceful about it.”

"Hunters,” brows knitted together then, her gaze finally removing itself from the world beyond the glass pane in front of them to rest heavily on her other half. “I thought---” She hardly needed to voice it, her mind always lingering on the concept that those who sought her demise might have finally come to collect, that her hidden place amongst Red Creek’s various inhabitants hadn’t been enough to cloak her from the sins of the past. Hunters, however, were a whole different breed of pest and were she a more violent creature, Lenore might have eliminated the problem with one foul swoop of her hand. It was why Zeke would do everything in his power to remove the brunette from such a situation, because while she would fight, Lord would she fight until her last breath, Lenore could never win due to her refusal to kill. Mercy was her undoing at every turn.

Bodies siphoned of their power indicated that someone was harnessing enough magic for a grand display, something surely wicked in nature and while she remained in the dark herself regarding suspects, Lenny still added: "It wasn’t me.” She felt compelled to dissuade him from any notion of her involvement, whether he consciously suspected her or not. Perhaps that would always be the nature of their relationship, Lenore consistently reminding him that she had made efforts to become a better person, that their life together had grown more valuable than a misguided hunt for power. “You don’t have to do this, you know. I’ve gone by myself before, I can do it alone.” Without her grimoires, without her few accumulated possessions, it would be a far more difficult process, but she had started over with less before and could again. “You can’t upend your entire life for me, Zeke. That’s not fair to you.” Though it was definitely too late to argue as the shadows of their town began to flicker by the further they drove towards its limits, mountains in the distance signaling where he intended to take her.

@lenoredauphine

It didn’t spike immediate panic, it was a feeling that he’d long since found little use for it. The long winding string of magical murders, bodies left drained of power and then some had sparked something of immediate concern throughout the streets of Red Creek. The coven had grown scarce, whether that meant they were pulling apart the etches of residual magic left behind or something more sinister, he didn’t know, but concern didn’t breathe life into lungs over the barren sight of some of the deadliest hunters known commit so effortlessly to a literal witch hunt. Months without a single glimmer of something sinister carving it’s way through the ridden smothering of white powder that coated the town as if it might have once offered some nonsensical blanket of safety for the inhabitants. All those that so plainly chose to live among the throng of the most dangerous beings on the planet might as well have been none the wiser as those known among them to hold the power of something higher were ripped from their homes.  The looming familiarity of the home he’d only left mere hours ago stood out among them, Zeke not quick enough to reach it before the lowly distaste of hunters breached it first. The wood shattered beneath the weight of anothers boot, hanging limply from one hinge as they scoured the halls of a place he knew as well as his own. The hunter of the deepest raven locks calling that he’d take the basement – better that nobody else find what lay beneath as they tore apart each and every room. He lingered in the darkness of the lowest room in her home, obsidian hues cutting lines across every damning piece of evidence that he knew lay down here, whether she’d had a single thing to do with the mess above or not, the grimoires alone would spark enough anger without efficient evidence. The small handful of power they held on their side with a forceful coven member leading the search didn’t guarantee the protections spells laid out for this room would suffice and keep the lingering secret of what Lenore was at bay. “All clear!” Deep timbre shook the furnace of his own ribcage as another effortless lie slipped his lips, Zeke quickly climbing the stairs and making a beeline for the front door.  Breaking the evening air that held a stringent tang of anticipation for everything that would slowly unravel a whole new method of madness within the town region. The sharp command of another hunter irked him though he’d never appreciated being ordered about. The sharpened sneer short lived as he felt so unwilling to draw too much attention to the rage settling within the marrow of his bones. “I’ll double back,” an outright objection to follow the fold, “make sure we didn’t miss anything.” Not up for question or arguement and the steely look on sharp features didn’t give the opportunity for it as he left the throng of hunters to follow their own escapade as he wove the familiar streets until he broached the back door of his own home. The door swung back, jamming in against the hole busted through the plywood, something he’d always forgone fixing. “Lenny!” He felt her, the slip of movement from the hallway that traversed the space of atmosphere he could sense drew him in, Zeke stopping only long enough to kick open a cabinet filled with an arsenal of weapons. “Go to the spare room, there’s two duffel bags in the closet,” whether she knew it or not, he’d always been prepared – always, even for the imminent possibility that he’d have to drag her from the town completely. “There’s an empty one on the top shelf, anything that belongs to you that’s here, in this house right now, grab it.”

As always, she sensed his presence before he made himself known within the empty halls of his home. Lithe figure pausing amidst her cleaning ministrations --because Gods above did the man never clean anything except a gun-- as she traipsed from the bedroom into the hallway to greet his unanticipated and rather early arrival home. Instead of the usual turning of the handle and shuffle into the kitchen with some amusing, albeit smart ass, comment about how she hadn’t started dinner yet despite being present all evening, the door was nearly obliterated as it slammed into the wall. Enough to startle Lenny as she awaited in absolute silence for confirmation that it was indeed him, forever lingering in trepidation that another had discovered them and come to forcibly remove the witch from his life permanently. The deep rumble of his voice curving around the syllables of her name became enough to caution her frantic heart, if only for a moment.

"Jesus Christ, you scared m---” But words were pouring forth before she even had an opportune moment to complete her train of thought, the sentence dying on her lips as she bore witness to the frenzy exuded by the man before her. Determination combined with an uncharacteristic version of something akin to fear had absorbed him entirely, enough to rock her foundation and the one of his home as it bellowed throughout the hallways and awnings. Without so much as a passing glance or question of his order, she darted off to the spare bedroom and threw open the closet doors with more ferocity than one might assume given her petite frame. Both bags were dragged outwards before she jumped to reach the latter, tearing it down and immediately ransacking the home for anything which might echo with the faintest inkling of belonging to her. Toothbrush, hairbrush, various clothes tucked away in drawers, a sweater hung over a chair, her shampoo bottles; a whole assortment of items were tossed haphazardly within the deep confines of the canvas bag.

Collecting all three, she near bolted down the hallway to meet him in the kitchen, adjusting one of the bags over her shoulder as its contents slid around somewhat. Must have been hers. There was a wildness to her gaze, a harkening back to when Lenore existed as a creature on the run, forever bouncing from one locale to the next without so much as a thought to stopping. She hadn’t experienced such a deep rooted survival instinct in her two years with Zeke, always content in the safety he provided, but now it reared its head almost violently and she fell into the familiarity of it with ease. “I’m taking these to the truck,” she spoke in an aloof tone without offering him room to argue, more than familiar with what it meant to move with purpose, to believe every step might be her last. 

Tossing all three bags into the backseat, she quietly shut the doors with as little force as she could mange to keep from drawing attention to her movements before ambling into the front passenger seat to wait for him. Both knees drawn to her chest in a protective measure, green hues darkened by the dim outside lighting flickered across every corner and shadow, fully prepared for a confrontation if necessary. It was only when he joined her in the adjoining seat that she spoke, gaze never once pivoting from the windshield to his face. “How bad is it? Tell me the truth.” 

The fire that burnt through the sharpened gash across his shoulder had torn more energy from him than he’d first anticipated, making his way back from his hunt on foot reluctantly leaving his truck; now with slashed tires, deep in the woods. Despite wanting to make it home just to find some semblance of silence, he knew he had little hope in stitching himself up on his own. What he hadn’t expected, was to be assaulted with yet another problem the moment he let himself in through the back door of her home. “— He saw you.. where?” As if he’d never had to ask in the first place, she filled in the blanks. “Why the hell were you still there?” Though he’d chosen to leave her tangled within his sheets, he might have believed she was smarter than to linger where all too many other hunters passed through. “And what the hell did you tell him?”

Her laughter was infectious and Carter relaxed. His frown turned into a smile as rested his elbows on the table. “Okay, good. The way you said that, I just wanted to make sure.” There were a thousand questions that Carter had, and he wanted to ask the girl in front of him. But he simply nodded. “Alright, that’s fine. You know him better than I do, so I’ll follow your lead.” Not really. He wanted to go find the guy that instant. “I can be patient.” What kind of liar.

"Don’t worry about me, I can handle myself.” Little did he know about her ability to throw anyone in that bar through the nearest wall using only her mind, but that would be a conversation for another day. “Good, that’s a smart move.” Zeke was already touchy over the Sawyer incident, but having this coupled on top? He might explode full stop. “I have to get back to work, but it was nice talking to you. Put your number in my phone, I’ll hit you up when I have more information.”

At Lenny’s warning, Carter felt himself tense. “Does he hit you?” He asked, foregoing any sort of subtly. “I don’t mean to just assume, but that…sounds kind of abusive.” He hoped that wasn’t the case. But, brother or nothing, or whatever the fuck this guy could be, Carter wouldn’t tolerate that shit. “I can’t just ignore this.” He shook his head, fingers tapping on the table. He leaned forward. “He…what if he’s my brother or something?”

"Does he hit me---?!” The laughter which pealed from her vocal chords sliced through the remaining tension between the pair. “Christ, buddy. No, for the record, he wouldn’t lay a hand on me unless he wanted to wake up dead, ‘cause I’d fucking kill him.” Conveniently, however, she excluded their little episode prior to dating in which she garnered two small scars on her left thigh. “I meant with other people, he’s not the warm and fuzzy type.” She nodded with empathy for his confused plight. “Hey, I get it. You just found out your doppelgänger is roaming about somewhere out there, it’s weird. Let me talk to him before you start going crazy looking for answers.”

He pursed his lips and shook his head. “I mean, not really. I knew they loved me and they died. No real family left on either side, so I was adopted by a family that knew them.” He didn’t bother mentioning the werewolf lineage. But he wondered…did Zeke have the gene too? That is, if they were related. “Guns? Like, for hunting?” He repeated. “Uh, no. I don’t hate them, per say. I just never really got into them.” His fists had been his weapon of preference.

"Good to know.” His question nearly caused her blood to run cold, the brunette becoming still as a statue whilst she awaited his reply. “Yeah, for hunting.” Relief flooded her veins at Carter’s confirmation that he wasn’t a hunter as well, whether he realized as much or not, and she sat back in her seat. “In that case, I suggest you stay low and keep your distance from Zeke as best you can. If you see him, walk the other direction. Understood? He’s not the type to sit around and talk to you about this sort of thing, he’s violence first and questions later. So please try not to get hurt... If you can.”

He gave a dry laugh, eyes stuck at one spot on the table. “Yeah, that makes a lot more sense now.” Carter wouldn’t wrap his head around what he was hearing. Or what he’d just seen. “I’m usually not this nice,” he said, chuckling. But he’d found himself too tired to be his usual self with everything going on with Ophelia. “Uh, no, not technically.” Swallowing, he sat back into the booth, stretching his legs out on either side of hers. He could hardly focus. “I…was adopted. Young. My parents were killed, or died. I don’t know, actually. It never really got solved. But I was told I was their only kid.”

The chuckle that escaped him brought a sort of nostalgic endearment to her ears and reflexively the softest of smiles painted itself across her features. “Not technically?” Canting her head to the side, she studied him carefully over the course of his response before nodding as the details somewhat harkened back to Zeke’s own parentage. “And you know absolutely nothing about them?” A thought suddenly dawned on her which she hadn’t considered until this moment: did hunting run through their genetics? She might have been positioned across from yet another volatile hunter without realization. “You don’t happen to like guns, do you?”

Carter simply nodded, deciding against trying to push the subject. It really wasn’t any of his business what was going on between them. His eyes regarded her carefully though, watching how she seemed almost fidgety about the idea of showing a photo of Zeke. When she finally relented and handed him the phone, he took it carefully with a smile. The smile fell from his face at what he saw. The guy staring back at him looked exactly like Carter. Not just kind of similar or even similar build. Scary similar. But it wasn’t Carter. “Is..this a joke?” he asked, looking up at her. Suddenly the situation wasn’t so funny.

Oh, how she wished that it were a joke. Some ridiculously long con or April Fools, but alas their mutual confusion and his panic were all too real. "Like I said, you look and sound just like him. Hence why I was so confused back there.” Lifting her phone off the table, she tucked it away once more. “But you’re very clearly not him because he’s... Well, let’s just say you’re a shade or two more polite than this asshole.” The possible connection between the pair of men boiled down to only a handful of options and each seemed more far-fetched than the last. Except maybe one. “Are you an only child?”

As he slipped into the booth, Carter pulled out his phone. He sent a quick text to Cole and Thane explaining he’d be out later than he’d thought. A handful of tacos and egg plants were Thane’s reply and Cole sent a thumbs up then ‘Don’t forget to tell her you’re the ugliest of the three of us.’ Shoving his phone into his pocket, he watched as the woman returned, grabbing the beer she produced. “No, I can imagine it’s kind of fucking weird to see the spitting image of…your boyfriend?” He asked, filling that in somewhat quickly. Or, maybe they were secret lovers. “Would it be weird to ask for a photo of him? I kind of wanna see how much we look alike.”

"He’s not my... I mean he is, but--- it’s just really complicated.” She shouldn’t have been confirming anything, however their little interaction in the hallway must have leant itself to a whole host of assumptions about her relationship. None of which would be wrong. It hardly helped that staring across the table was still the spitting image of the one person who would never use that label if his life depended on it. “You want a photo?” Most were deleted or hidden so deeply in her phone just to be certain, but the witch managed to find one of Zeke and their dog in the living room with decent lighting. Almost unwillingly, she passed the phone across the table. “Um, here.”

His whole body visibly relaxed as the woman seemed to come to terms with the fact that he wasn’t who she had thought. But it still felt weird. She’d been completely adamant that he was this Zeke guy. Which begged the question, who was Zeke? There was sinking, twisting pit in Carter’s stomach that left him with one singular feeling: maybe he didn’t want to know. “A drink sounds fucking great right now,” he said, chuckling. “What’s your name again?” Carter wasn’t sure he’d ever caught it.

"Head over to the back booth, I’ll meet you.” Because weird coincidence or not, she still couldn’t be spotted in public with any variation of Zeke Callen. “Lenny.” Once the beer was procured from the bar, on her own endless tab, the witch slid into the space across from him at the booth before setting the bottle atop its surface. “Look, I’m sorry for all of that back there... It’s just that you could honestly be the doppelgänger for somebody that I know. Which wouldn’t be weird except for the fact that you even sound like him.” That gravelly timbre which had always existed as the most entrancing aspect of her significant other, now resounded in a completely separate body.

“I prefer Sorry! but that’s besides the point.” He shook his head. Zeke. What a stupid fucking name. “I don’t think I believe you.” Looking at her pupils, Carter tried to decide if they looked normal or not. He couldn’t tell in the low light. “Seriously. Listen. To. Me.” Stepping forward, he touched the outsides of both of her arms, keeping it gentle. “My name is Carter Wayne. Not Zeke. I literally moved to town like, three months ago. I do not know who you are.” He said the words slowly, hoping they would finally sink in. He wanted to be annoyed, but now he was just genuinely worried about this girl’s state of mind.

I don’t think I believe you. Smart man considering how often Lenore kept herself shrouded in secrecy and evasion of the truth. "That’s funny, because I don’t particularly care if you do or not.” It was the grasp upon her arms which drove his point home like a stake through her chest, how soft and utterly uncharacteristic his movements were in their lack of aggression. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think I believe you.” Born on Halloween, three hours away, Carter Wayne... It didn’t add up. “Sorry, you’re just the spitting image of my--- you know what? It’s already weird enough... Can I buy you a drink?”

“It isn’t a game,” he argued, shaking his head at her. Carter huffed out a breath, his eyes searching for a way to escape the woman in front of him but finding none. “My birthday is October 31st. I’m from Centerville, about three hours from here, and no, I have never been and probably never will be in the army.” Propping his shoulder against the wall, Carter leveled a look at the woman. “This is a fucking dumb game. How much have you drank?”

“Let me guess, you’re a bigger fan of Yahtzee.” The facets of his life were rattled off without hesitation and that only furthered the brunette’s confusion as she stared up into eyes which held more life in them than she remembered. Less darkened by the tally marks of souls put down by his own hand. "Now you sound like Zeke. I’m on the clock, so... Nothing. Don’t worry, you won’t have to deal with my drunk ass tonight.” As often as he teased her about being a manager at such a dingy bar, Lenny knew he would never have forgotten that aspect of her life. Which could only prompt her final question, “Do you even know who I am?”

Carter ran a hand along his bare face. He’d never really thought about growing out a beard before. Maybe he’d give that a try. “I’ve never had a beard,” he said seriously, shaking his head. Maybe this girl was just really drunk. “I’m not pretending. My name is Carter. I’ve been in town for maybe all of two months? Listen again when I say this: I am not the person you’re looking for.”

I’m not pretending. Somehow that alone struck a distinct chord despite the obvious standing right in front of her. "This is the dumbest game you’ve ever made me play, but fine. I’ll bite.” Though it unnerved the witch at how absolutely serious he remained in spite of her clear annoyance with the back and forth at hand. “What’s your birthday, Carter? Where are you from? Ever been in the army?”

Carter’s eyebrows knitted together, his expression one of obvious confusion. “You obviously have me mistaken for someone else,” he told her. Confusion was replaced with a mild amusement. “Whoever you’re looking for, I promise they’re not me.” He glanced around the bar, looking for someone around his build. “I know the lighting isn’t great in here, but I’m sure whoever it is, is in there somewhere.”

"Is that a joke? Because your sense of humor is super off tonight. I blame it on the lack of a beard since I thought I told you to keep it.” The continued charade only further perplexed the witch until she finally felt as though his intentions were grasped. “You don’t have to pretend, alright? Nobody can hear us back here so don’t keep acting like me; all paranoid and shit.”