children of the night

Cristiana takes a second – just one – to try and calm the panic in her chest. But the moment she goes to turn to face him, something strikes her. So hard in the back it takes the wind out of her lungs that she’d just fulled them with. At first she thinks something had struck her, but then she’s lifted from the ground, with wide eyes and sees the rod through her abdomen. Blood pours around it. She tries to reach, to fight his hold, swings the broken off table leg in her hand wildly and misses. “If you think – you’ll kill me…. and Thomas won’t kill you right back – you’re mistaken.”

There’s blood in her mouth. It muddies her words. But before she can say anything else, he let’s go, rips the rod out. She loses her breath again and clears a long stretch of floor in the air. Cristiana barely gets her footing again, one hand hover over the wound in her abdomen. She turns, and he throws her, until she lands in a heap on the floor three stories down. This time, she searches again, tries everything to get her bearings and get to her feet. She’s wobbly. No amount of witch blood can make up for that much blood lost. And there’s nothing around that looks like a weapon. Cristiana’s chest heaves and she tries to steady the rising, familiar feeling of helpless panic that won’t go away. If nothing else, she’ll buy time until Riley gets Thomas. 

@caldwells​

The entire front of his shirt is soaked in Cristiana’s blood. He feels it stick to his skin as he watches her tumble over and disappear beneath the level. He licks it off his fingers, where the blood dripped down from the rod as he held her in the air, and starts making his way down the stairs. But his path is blocked as he approaches another presence on the first floor.

A presence with striking red hair and a fledgling girlfriend somewhere in the area. 

Before Haven can take another breath, he’s pressing her against the closest window with his lips pulled back across his face in an impish grin. “You’re in my way. Enjoy your bargain immortality for the next few moments before I get back to you. I have other business to take care of first.” It doesn’t take much strength. With a wind up and a kick, he sends Haven crashing through the glass. 

Where were we, he whispers to himself when he turns on his heels and starts making his way down the stairs again. He can hear the thud somewhere out in the lawn, but his attention is already turned back to the matter at hand. Halfway down the staircase, he hurdles over the banister and lands behind Cristiana. “Boo.” He spins her around, grabs onto her shoulders for dear life, and buries his fangs into her neck until he feels a gush of blood flood into his mouth. The force of it, the rush of it, brings them to the floor. Before he’s had too much, he slides his fingers around her neck to replace his fangs. 

His brief enjoyment of the fight is gone. As Cristiana punches him in the jaw once, twice, three times, his hand doesn’t move an inch as he squeezes her throat. But the punches do something to dislodge his grasp on anything else.

It’s more of a lingering sense than something that’s present. The fear... it’s like a smell. Traces of it left behind by fleeing souls from a nearly empty manor. Any vampire in the building, he can’t reach out and find with his magic. He’s almost completely alone with the one emotion he’s ever been able to cause. It fills him completely, becomes his own. Every nerve in his body responds to it as his magic binges on utter terror and loneliness. He jerks with a sound that’s a mix between a growl and a whimper as he tries to fight it, but his grasp on Cristiana’s neck only grows tighter. Memories of his brother’s stoic stature after getting hit and his other brother’s dying breath flood his mind like a dam’s been broken. He becomes the chaos that he boasts about keeping leashed and he thinks about what Noah Nicolai’s story could possibly be. 

This is the part she’s not sure she can do. Silas grabs her by the neck, tosses her easily through the door in a splinter of wood. She lands in a heap on the other side of, with Silas shouting. The loss of control, the anger, it all makes her chest react with the kind of panic she should not be bringing in to a fight. She thinks of Riley, the way she’d panicked at the chance that that mark could be back on her wrist. Somehow this feels similar. Somehow Cristiana wants to scrub the feeling of helplessness from her own chest. But she promised the witches. She promised a fight. For her, for Thomas. The same Thomas that Silas is threatening now and she knows that this it, no matter the fear. She runs, at full speed down the hall, slower than she’d like to be but running all the same, until she finds a small decorative table she shatters over her leg to make another stake and arm herself. 

Silas crouches down to swipe up a fire poker as he enters the hall. It won’t kill her, but it will cause her pain. But not enough. He’ll have to get creative for that. Then he’ll kill Thomas, before he’s given a large enough chance to talk himself out of it (as much as the betrayal stings, there’s a part of him that wishes things would be different... but that’s what got him into this mess, those feelings of loyalty to those who don’t deserve it) Then... there’s the blonde wolf. At the thought of her, he raises the iron poker over his shoulder and throws it like a javelin to Cristiana’s back. With vampiric speed, he follows its trail through the air and drives the iron rod through her until he’s lifting her off her feet by the very thing that skewers her. He staggers a bit, as her feet are lifted higher off the floor and the wound in his chest aches. But that witch blood is a hell of a drug. He leans in close, and seethes in her ear: “Pity... after all of this, the weak link in the chain won’t even be able to save her wolf. Maybe I’ll let you live long enough to watch it all unravel in front of you.” 

In one swift movement, he drops her and rips out the fire poker from the back of the girl he once called family. He tosses it to the side, picks her up by the collar, and kicks her as far down the hall as he can manage, near the top of the stairs.

[ PRIVATE ]

She’s never been much of a fighter. And she regrets that now. Not because she possess any desire to hurt anyone, but because none of it comes as easily the way it does to Silas, to Nico, Thomas – people who spent centuries tearing at flesh and bone, knowing where to aim and what to do. It takes only seconds and Silas advances on her, and she hits the wall and a bit of furniture across the room hard. She’s sure his words are meant to be some kind of insult, but they aren’t. If anything the reminder of what she’d done in the past is a reminder, that if she can escape even her greatest monster, she can do that. Cristiana scrambles to her feet, as fast as he can. But he’s closer to the door. “Only one of us is leaving this house, Silas.”

“Fine by me.”

[ PRIVATE ]

All she can do is roll her eyes. It’s so predictable, so spineless – so Silas. He doesn’t move to defend Nico, doesn’t react with anger or loyalty, doesn’t feel empowered to take Thomas’s side. He does nothing, sits int he middle and waits for someone to give him the answer. All the things she hates the most about him at the end of the day. And a clear, easy reminder that this is exactly what needs to be done. “I wouldn’t.” 

The answer is quick and even. She pulls the stake from the side of her coat and moves fast, to plunge it into his chest. A little too far left. But he’s twice her height and she doesn’t have him as distracted as she would have liked. 

[ PRIVATE ]

It’s the final, glaring reason he needs to never again be on team anything but himself. He moves at the last second, enough so the stake that’s plunged at him misses his heart. The wooden tip pierces his button down shirt and buries itself a couple inches into his flesh before his hand catches it from going any further. He rises from his seat, pulls out the stake with a grimace, and snaps it in half between his hands as he begins advancing on Cristiana immediately. It’s the final betrayal he’ll ever allow for the rest of his eternal life. He’s alone.

[ PRIVATE ]

You’re not hearing me, Silas. Running isn’t an option. He’ll always find us. I want him gone. Out of the way so we can have real freedom. You don’t have to help. I’ll take him down on my own if I have to. Sabina with him. I’m only offering you a seat on the winning team. 

[ PRIVATE ]

[ PRIVATE ]

Where Thomas is concerned, there’s no such thing as enough concern. I was hoping that perhaps you’d share my sentiment. I don’t see Nicholaus letting him leave or me with him. I wanted to propose an alliance. Between the three of us. To Desiccate Nico, deliver him to Gideon and live the rest of our lives free and without threat of control or approval. 

[ PRIVATE ]

[ PRIVATE ]

Nothing serious. But I’m concerned about him. I’m concerned about what Nicholaus’s involvement in all of our lives is doing to him. I was hoping, that perhaps you might share that sentiment. 

[ PRIVATE ]

[ PRIVATE ] @silasbriar​

Do you have a second? For a word in private. It’s about Thomas. 

[ PRIVATE ]

[PRIVATE]

Yeah? I have a hard time teasing it out myself most days, I’d love some clarification. A deal is a deal, and you have no control over the next time Nico is going to decide to kill someone. My tomorrow isn’t guaranteed in this place. Neither is yours - you’re the only kiddo who hasn’t been staked or manhandled yet by Daddy Dearest. And getting ancient magic from you would have meant a small victory in a dark place, something to leave behind for my fellow witches. Don’t threaten me. Cut me open if you’re going to, pump me full of the emotion of the day, but just get it over with. No use throwing around your words when they mean nothing.

[PRIVATE]

[PRIVATE]

And here I was, veering towards not outright despising you. Men are so disappointing. Presley already told you what that ritual was. Am I at a boiling point with your family? Fuck yes, I haven’t hid that. They stole Noah’s life. They killed Theo’s person. You continue to puppet in ways big and small, just because it’s easy. For an empath, you’re very bad at reading people if that wasn’t already clear as fucking day. If you aren’t holding up your end I’m gonna go, you can do the trashing the camp portion of your evening alone.

[PRIVATE]

[PRIVATE]

Did he? Does he know something the rest of us don’t? Glad you enjoyed it. Thought we had a deal.

[PRIVATE]

[PRIVATE]

I like to understand things. I like not being puppeted by a deck of cards, for a night. I like having you in my eyesight, knowing you aren’t an immediate danger to anyone I care about here.

Okay.

[PRIVATE]

[PRIVATE]

Good for you. You’re still the resident psychopath, but honestly your brand of chaos is the only one I can actually wrap my head around. I’m trying hard not to read into that. So what’s the plan now? Are you still going to travel with them or are you forging your own path? I can’t tell if everyone is right to be this scared shitless of Gideon all the time or not. You outnumber him five times over. Yeah, speaking of technology. Can’t really be photographed too much, can’t leave a permanent mark on history, can’t keep your own name for too long in the legal sense. How many more centuries do you think you’ll be able to stay ahead of it? I’ll be long gone by then, but. Humans are going to catch up to you eventually. Wicked. Should I be flattered by that or was I just the only one around?

Probably. But I think I’m too much of a grudge holder to fix it the old fashioned way, and as we’ve previously discussed….you don’t do things for free. I’ll stay broken. Fuck, I didn’t think I’d have to list specifics. I’m at least twenty percent tequila at the moment. Judging people? Picking out the dealer at a party. Other physical magic comes pretty easy, too.

[PRIVATE]

I’ll forge my own path for a while, let Gideon deal with Nico on his own. He may be an authority, which I despise, but I can’t deny his power. Numbers have nothing to do with it. Where Nico lacks power from being turned, where I lack more power from being turned by Nico, Gideon has it all. Humans can play their games if they want. I’ve been adapting since the 13th century. You should be flattered, love. You say what you will and have your judgements, but you want the heart of it all first. You let me be in these moments, and I enjoy sitting in the presence of someone who has a tiny sense of chaos flitting about in her own eyes, searching for the next spark. It suits you.

[PRIVATE]

And you just do whatever she wants, right? That’s my loose understanding of your that bizarre hierarchy. Yikes, that’s….you’ve done a lot of bullshit, but being used never feels great. You certainly have gifts that others would want to exploit - I tried a little, when I first got here, when I was even more of a fucking mess. Yet you’re powerful. I thought the whole point of all that power was not settling for being someone else’s token magic trick. Alex didn’t ask for this and neither did Thomas, and there doesn’t seem to be a lot of love there in either direction. I don’t know how much influence she’s going to have if he starts getting stabby again. Ever killed anyone historically significant?

Fixing it isn’t so simple. I’ve tried. Nothing. Disappearing paper cuts isn’t exactly ‘mighty force’ magic, anyway. I have other strengths.

[PRIVATE]

Until now. Something’s got to change. Perhaps it’s the beginning of a new golden era for Silas Briar. I will not settle for being someone else’s token magic trick for another seven centuries. I couldn’t bear it. Thomas understands the significance and rarity of having a childe these days. But he also needs his hedonism to survive. If Alex gets unhappy with him, the rest of the manor will be at her back and then no more fun for Thomas. Either way, I don’t see that tender relationship lasting very long. I suppose we’ll find out if I’m wrong. I’ve killed war generals of rebellious countries for kings from time to time, after I’ve manipulated their feelings to my employers’ liking and let that effect take hold. No one you’d know. As technology got better, killing prominent figures became frowned upon for those who had watchful hunters in their midst. Congratulations. You officially know more about me than I’ve let anyone outside my family know for centuries.

 [PRIVATE]

I get it. Your family - your human family, they sounded like a nightmare. But you weren’t cast out from witchcraft. You walked away. Actually, you were a little vague with your wording the first time around - I can’t even tell if Sabina asked you or forced you. You don’t have to feel loyalty to witches or magic, it’s clear you don’t, but don’t twist the narrative. People cast you out. And Nico hurt you, I don’t have to have extra abilities to pick up on that. I know I’m supposed to be distracting you, giving you one blackout night in exchange for some big forgotten magic, and this is the opposite - I promise when my blood is half fucking tequila, you can have as much as you’d like without murdering me. I just don’t get it. They don’t give you the same reverence you give them. Think that’s what your brother is in for? He turned a human and not even all the way. Meet anyone historically notable? Who was your favorite?

Alas. With all this vampire blood around, it hasn’t been an issue yet. I’ve been able to hide. Some things stay broken. I can do other magic. And when you guys move on, I can leave too and give it up entirely. Go back to Boston.

[PRIVATE]

It was certainly by choice. But it wasn’t until later that I realized she saw me as a tool to use. So many sweet words she knows I want to hear dominate the conversation before she gets around to telling me what she really wants from me. When you have something special, that’s all people will see you for. That’s all they want you for. But don’t get me wrong, love, I’ve found ways to use my powers for myself and make my own entertainment throughout the centuries. Thomas will need to behave himself to his childe’s liking, or he may be in trouble. Alex’s theoretical loyalties are split in about a dozen other directions. The redheaded immortal in particular. If you want entertainment, I’d look in their direction once he starts acting up again. The actresses at the height of Hollywood were ethereal. Anna May Wong, Dolores del Río, Ingrid Bergman... they didn’t need empathy magic to command a room. Glorious humans. I’ve taken some magical inspiration from watching people react to their presence, of course.