Rebel Without A Clue

Of course I am talking about him! You turned him and now he’s yours forever but where does that leave me? I am not someones second choice!

I wasn't going to outlive my own brother when the solution was stirring me right in the face!

You have your fratello now…

You're talking about Nik? 

I am. I decided this. You don’t need me anymore and I found a new prodigy there…

I’m moving to Greece. Alone.

No. Just me.

"Mikus? I’m home…"

Ro-ro! Hey, baby. How was Greece? 

I’m not. It’s Sunday. Christians don’t strip for money on Sundays.

Or else you'll piss off God?

Not happening.

[Eli’s eyes were fixed on Mikus’ now, his nostrils flaring with each inhale, and he cut his own palm by squeezing tight to the rock. It would be so easy. It would be over. He couldn’t— Goddess. HE COULDN’T KILL. A shout from a cop behind him brought him out of his adrenaline nursed rage, but the stone found a new target. He pushed his left palm and the rocks imbedded into Mikus drove through, strained in the slightest as the ends were thick. Eli drove the earth forged stake in his right hand through Mikus’ lower chin, through his mouth, before a bang. Bullets flew through him. He hadn’t expected it, but maybe he should have. Elias fell on the pavement, his own blood swelling, then pulsing out, but he looked up at Mikus. He looked at his artwork. It took a stake through the mouth to make him shut up.]

Bottom line is I’m not sleeping with you. Use a picture to jack off to if you’re that desperate.

Only if you'll pose for me.

[The eyes pierced through him, and he didn’t release his control of the dagger like stone, fighting the temptation to drive it completely through him. The darkness brewed inside him, because he was asking it too, to give him the potential to follow through with such an offer. Here he was again, caught in Mikus’ endless game, being driven deeper and deeper into a part of himself he never wanted to know existed. But it did. He opened his right hand and a spare stone fit in his grasp, sharp as the rest, and he pressed the end to Mikus’ beatless chest. The crowd around were either silenced or panicked and there was only so much time to hesitate, before the oppressors would step in and stop him.]

[He’d never wounded anyone—well… he’d never seen it first hand. Real blood spilt because of his magic. Because of his will. It didn’t feel good but because it was Mikus’ corpse, the vampires, it did not feel bad in the least either. Then there was that slight hesitation, sight of the blood dripping out, coating stone, the elixir that he once was stuck upon. Despite the mixed reaction, his spirit remained steadfast, on making sure Mikus would know the fury he’d have to face if Kurtis was harmed like Aya was.]

We’ve had this conversation already. One, you’re not as cute as you think are and two there’s another one of you.