#xellwrites

Somehow, Carson hadn’t thought the end would be so dark. He had heard stories, little rumors of what death would be like, the standard ‘bright light at the end of the tunnel’ having embedded the imagery that death would be white, bright and powerful, an eternity stretched out before you as you fell away into it. He pictured it warm, happy, soft…. But as he struggled to breathe, pain rippling over his skin as he struggled to find which way was up, Carson could only describe an abyss that rested before him, all consuming and unforgiving. There was no direction, just endless black that had his mind hazing with ice, his mind freezing in the tundric waters that now created his grave.

The ocean had never been a kind mistress...He should have been more careful.

“Carson! Get away from the edge!”

His Brother’s voice was frightened, the anxiety that was clearly running through his veins laced in his words, a light tilt to his voice that made him look up from the railing of the boat that they had both come to adore, their little run away from the overbearing pressures of human society. It was his mother’s boat, something she had saved up for and bought before she had even met their dad, but she allowed them to take it out to open seas when they wanted to, so long as she didn’t have a trip planned. Ragnar had decided to take it out this weekend, and Carson had to beg him to let him come along, having missed the open ocean, salty winds brushing kisses along his face.

His hands clenched the metal as he leaned back, mismatched eyes on his Brother’s own, his eyes widening as he gripped the wheel of their boat harder.

He smiled, tilting his head, opening his mouth to say something, when the boat rocked suddenly, jerking with some hidden underwater rock edge or a particularly nasty wave, one the would have been expected due to the darkening storm clouds that were circling ahead. Carson felt the boat buckle under him, jerking forward. Not having kept his footing stable, Carson lurched, his body moving, flipping into the dark waters below.

Pain ripped over his mind as his head slammed into something hard, and Carson Watched as his World faded from Blue, to red…. Then black..

But he didn’t sleep for long. His body forced awake as his lungs tried to draw breath, only feeling the heavy set of the salt water around him sliding into his lungs, pressing against his chest to bind his heart, the thud and roar of his own heart beating running through his ears. Everything felt light, but heavy, stuck in one spot with nowhere to go.

‘Shit…’

Carson cursed, his hands finding his throat as he heaved, needing air but his mind not receiving, darker spots of black flashing over the abyss before him. He struggled, but his body was starting to slow its response, limbs heavy, sluggish, the ice in his veins making his whole body ache.

He felt so tired…..

‘I don’t want to…..’

----------

Truthfully? Lochlan Hated this job.

It wasn’t that it was hard. On the contrary, hard labor was tiring, to be sure, but it wasn't anything Lochlan could call difficult. It was simple motions, simple turns and pulls to lift the nearly cripplingly heavy pulls of fish from the ocean, the scent of salt and brine all he could smell and the lingering scent of the still wet cigarettes that clung to him. There was the sound men’s laughter, the ugly cursing of men twice his age calling out vulgarities to each other, to him and his Ever silently friend, Ebbe. Ebbe took it all in stride, ignoring the ribbing of the other men on the ship with a pop of the bubble gum in his mouth, Lochlan acting as mouthpiece and spokesperson for the two newbies on the trip, the only one to say anything back as they ribbed on him.

“Don’t throw out your back, Pretty boys! Get your arms into it! Get your asses moving, the fish ain’t gonna just JUMP ON BOARD!”

“It’d Go a Lot faster with ALL OF US PULLING, JACKMAN!”

Lochlan curses as he momentarily lost his grip, hearing the grunt as Ebbe caught the slack his distraction had cost him. A quick sorry over his shoulder was the only apology that Ebbe would receive, his ears burning as the sun beat down on him and the dark laughter of men who had nothing better to do the bully the newest crew members lingering in his mind, his lips pulling back to let out a growl as he cast a look over to Ebbe, his friends long red hair sticking to his face and back and neck, the beanie he wore doing nothing to help keep the strands hidden….

Though Lochlan could not talk, his own duel colored strands sticking to his neck itching as the sweat rolled down his back.

The others would not help them, testing them, throwing them to the choppy waters to see if the sink or swim. Lochlan knew it, and So did Ebbe, and really, if this job didn’t pay so well, Lochlan would have given up a long time ago, would have told them to go fuck themselves and hidden away until they returned home, their trips never longer than a few days in the off season. Lochlan hated them, the way the underestimated him and the way they seemed to think he was the village fucking idiot and talked to him slowly, to help him understand. Normally he just would roll his eyes and do his job, but today? Today the forecast called for heavy storms and choppy waters, and being out in conditions so ready to become dangerous, and STILL pulling this stupid hazing ritual was irresponsible and stupid on their part. They Were going to lose a whole net just to fucking push them and see how far it too until they broke.

Lochlan would not break.

Things would be so much easier if he could.

As it was the ocean called to him. In what way, he never really could say, but there was a need in him, a pirate’s blood call in his veins made the sea sing to him, her waves soft and whispered lullabies, her currents and riptides calling to him. He needed to be by the ocean, needed to be surrounded by her.

It was why he worked so hard, why he jumped at the chance to work on this boat.

His calling was here, on these waves, in these waters, He just had to find it.

“Why is this so fucking heavy?” Lochlan cursed, yanking again to pull just that little bit more out of the  churning waters. He could have swore he heard splashing, like something huge was slapping its tail against the ocean's surface, but eh didn’t dare look up, his focus on pulling this net in before the storm caught them off guard.

He pulled, He yanked and finally, after what felt like a thousand years of nothing but holding the world on his shoulders, there was a final cry, both Ebbe and his body swinging with the effort of pulling the net up and over the boat's railing.

And the world froze, silent, for a moment as Lochlan saw him for the first time.

He was small, smaller than any of the men on board, his skin tan and dusted with freckles along his shoulders face and arms, hints of them along his torso. He sucked in a breath, teeth sharp, and the tail of something far beyond humanity slapped against the wooden surface of the boat.

“What the actual Fuck is that?”

Ebbe’s first words spoken aboard this ship. At any other time it would have caused an uproar, but the words now were only met with silence.

“Someone bring me my radio… Mr. Dhouti is gonna want to hear about this.”

-------------

Dear god, no. This wasn’t going to happen to him. Not now, not when he had so many mistakes to already make up for. He already had so many rules broken, so many errors that had almost cost him and his friends lives. That was why he was out here, to make up for them. To prove that he was still needed in this kingdom of theirs.

He had to prove that he was actually worth the pain that they had to put up with.

Whiskey colored eyes watched the man, horrified, watched as his body slammed against the rocky edge of the mountain. Bile roe in the back of his throat as the man slide through the turbulence. His hands reaching, grasping out only to find nothing to save him, no one to see the man struggle to survive underneath the power of the currents. But he was valiant in his efforts, a trait that Echo could only applaud. A trait that Echo himself wished he had possessed more than once. But here was this human, ditching all of his energy to try a perceiver for the air that was only feet away from the flailing man.

There was no way, no way to save him without being cast out, if anyone found out. But the fear he felt jerking his heart to his throat was real, it was dangerous and turned the man’s vision hazy as he swam closer to the fighting human.His eyes never leaving the man, instead focused, trained to the spot where the man thrashed.

Twice. Twice!

The man almost had the surface his fingertips  only inches away from the breaking point between air and water. Echo could hear his lungs screaming out for mercy, could hear the man’s heart racing relentlessly  to win against the pain that must have been wracking his body at this point.

‘Fight…. Fight it!’

 Fingernails grazed the inside of Echo’s palms, bitting heavier and heavier as he saw the fight slowly dying in the darklings eyes. His body slumping, the thrashes turning less and less aggressive as he sank. It was over, he was giving up. He was dying.

‘No. No. No… Oh,.... nonoonononononono!”

Echo could feel his body lurching forward, his arms already extending to try and wrap the darkling into him before he could even contemplate the situation. His hands moving on his own as tanned finger wrapped around the man’s chest, forcing him out of the murky darks of the water, he was light under the water, his body pressed too tightly against the warmth of his own chest. He didn’t have much time, his body forced the two through the surface, only for Echo to gasp, his lungs filling with oxygen. His fingers pressed the boy nose together, just as he had watched others do on the shore lines, and he pressed his lips to the boys mouth as they found the soft sand of the shores, his lips forcing the darklings apart so that he could do what he could only assume was right.

--------------

”Ethan, get it, my arms stuck…. Ethan! ITs stuck stop looking stupid and get over here and help me! ...Now!”

Panic was setting in, actual living fear was welling into his chest as he thrashed, his tail whipping under the currents that would have usually been calm. But there was a boat, far from the humans territory, there net wrapping bits of his arm into the thickly draw rope.  Logically he knew. He needed to calm down, he knew that panic was no way to get out of here. To get out of the net he was going to have to have some sort of focus on the appendage and the net that was tangled around his scales.  

“You have to calm down Ridley. Ridley! Calm down. I can’t help you f you’re thrashing around like that.”

But no matter how many time he thought to calm himself, no matter how many times he opened his mouth to take that calming breath, he found the terror was only sinking in. Even as pale fingers ripped away at the net from his arms his tail still swung, his body still yanked out trying to pull himself from the net. A motion he would regret as his tail jerked, only to find the net tangled into the briny ropes.

“Fuck! Fuck, COME ON RIDLEY STAY THE HELL STILL!”

Genuine fear gripped him, tore a hole into him as his eyes widened,  his body trembled as Ethan yanked at the ropes, none of them seemed to come lose, none of them budged as he gripped each yanking and manoeuvring to get the ropes un-entwined. But nothing seemed to work. But he could see Ethan's eyes widen as a cran began, giant floodlights filling their vision. But Ridley had to give it to him. Ethan didn’t let go, instead his body pushed against Ridley trying to land some kind of force as he yanked at the ropes more viciously.

“Swim down Ridley! Swim down!”

He could only listen, his head nodding even as he began to shift, to try and power through the fishing net that was cast around him. Ethan grappled onto Ridleys free arm forcing the net down with himself. But it was to no avail. The lining to strong, and the fishers almost even stronger. The gasp that left him as Ethan's fingers slid off was appalling to say the least, his mouth opening to scream for those fingers that were outreached for him.

“Ethan!”

The air was cold, almost freezing against his skin, the wind almost blistering as the fresh night air plummeted against his exposed skin. But it distracted him briefly from the shock, from the hard floor hitting him, the net draping itself over his body, pressing him harshly into the woodend halt of the small fishing boat. Small finger reached yanking at the ropes as the eyes caught onto him, human eyes. They were every where, surrounding him in a small cluster.  

He shook, his eyes wide as he took in each face. Their words played through his ears, but the meaning never hit. Their actions were those of confused children, the lot of them only gathering as one or two spoke. His escape was only inches away, the edge. He only needed to get the edge, even if he could only drop off with the net, at least  Ethan could help him escape the cage he seemed to find himself in.

Small fingers inched quietly for a second, two, maybe, before he was bolting, using the end of his tail to push off the floor of the boat, his fingers gripping the ridge. Freedom was only a mere feet away.

“Ethan!”

----------

Carson didn't want to die.

Sure, there were moments, times when he thought otherwise, but in the moment, the moment that Death circled around him like the jaws of the beast, claws raking over his body, Carson found that he did not wish to die. He didn’t want this to be the end, didn’t want to live on ninteen years of his life before it was thrown away to the sea, another victim, another statistic that would push people away from the oceans and her beauty. He didn’t want to sink into her depth, didn’t want to be the reason Ragnar never went to sea again, because he knew, his brother would never forgive himself for allow this to happen on his watch. He was a freshman in College, had a future ahead of him that he wanted to see, scholarships and nights on the ocean he still wanted to enjoy...

But he wouldn’t get to. Because the sea had claimed him.

Carson didn’t want to die.

There was a strange feeling, a warmth that circled around him as he closed his eyes sluggishly, the darkness almost completely taking over his vision as he felt his heart starting to slow. There was a pressure, another bind about his chest as something spun around his head, a whooshing feeling threading through his mind as he felt his body drift. That darkness was still there, darkness that clung to him even as a warm solid feeling settled under him, an icy rush over him all he could feel.

That warmth was still there, still about his shoulders and grazing over his face before he felt something, a rush of air sliding through his body to push into waterlogged lungs. Carson felt it, once, twice, three times, before he suddenly jerked, his body forcing the water back up past his lips, burning as it force itself from his mouth, his nose, making the dark haired boy purge his body, turning to allow all the water and bile to fall onto the sands next to him. Had he died? The thought shot through his mind, and Carson decided that if this was dying, then dying really, REALLY sucked, and Hell looked a whole lot like home.

His whole body ached, his head throbbing as he tried to open his eyes, hand moving to lift up to his head, feeling pain explode behind his eyes  he felt the gash on the back of his head, sand clinging to blood as he grazed fingertips over it. He still felt pain, so that was a good sign.

Carson sat up, only to let out a painful gasp as his head spun, pain throbbing enough to make him slip,slumping over as his hands reached up…. Only to land on something soft and wet, something that felt warm to the touch but strangely cold. Carson’s eyes finally opened, duel colored gaze holding nothing but confusion as he took in the sight before him.

The man Couldn’t have been any older than he was, his eyes wide, cognac colored with hints of red in the cinnamon brown. His gaze was on him, looking at him like one would look at a growling dog, all strangely hesitant and cautious. His skin was tan, blond locks falling to stick to his face,  and it was only when he shifted that the light gleamed of the expanse of scales that created a long tail  that resembled the legends he had read about when he was young, his mother's words filling his mind.

Mermaids, Carson… The Ocean is Deep, and she is vast. She gives no secrets willingly, and so no one can say for sure if they truly exist…

The kind of words used for children’s fairytales, to make them believe just that little longer. Carson could not say that he believed in Fairy tales anymore, but what eh could say, without a shred of doubt...Carson could say eh was…. Easily the most gorgeous creature he had ever seen.

He stared a moment, before his hand lifted, slowly, hesitantly, the worry that if he blinked this creature would be gone and left to his memories, a vision he would never be able to replicate. Was he real? He didn’t know. He didn’t seem real, mythic and strangely enchanting, beyond human.. His hand moved, hovered over his cheek, before he grazed his skin, a sharp gasp hitching his breath as he ran a fingertip over his cheek, his lips.

“Who are you?”

Carson asked. He had to be real…. Carson’s imagination was good, but he was sure he could never fantasize about a feeling so vividly.

“Did… You save me? Fuck…” Carson cursed as his head pounded again, looking away from the man to close his eye against the light shining off the waves.

“Where am I?”

---------------

Humans were vile, disturbing and blatant in their disrespect and their cruelty towards ocean life. They were selfish and wild. Unpredictable some said.

But if this wasn’t the most interesting human he had ever laid his eyes on.

A beauty that the gods and goddesses would praise for a millenia. And those eyes, god those eyes were ensnaring as they took him in. Echo swallowed around the boulder building in his throat, his fingers digging into the soft sand as the waves lapped against his tail. Something he should have been trying to avoid being seen.

But how could he just leave when he wasn’t even sure if the human was okay? All the work with no pay off? He thought not.

Echo watched, fascinated as the human stirred, his gaze unflinching as the darkling turned himself over, and it only seemed to grow more intense in his stare as the human turned those multi colored eyes to him. Locked him into place, when he knew he should have moved. Forced him to captured in the lights filling up behind those once dying eyes. There was something of marvel, something of wonder as he moved slightly to take in Echo. But there he was captured, entangled in the human that sat out beside him.

Cool air whipped around wet blonde tendrils of his hair, taned fingers movved to brush them back only to catch the darklings hand come up, his words slipping past to part those lips. Words he should not have been able to understand, words that were forbidden under the waves of the ocean. Words that once learned could earn a man’s death.

But he knew them. And he knew them well now, the simple brush of their lips together entwining the knowledge of this humans language into his veins. Pouring sickly sweet into him as he felt the smooth skin of the darkling brush over his freckled cheeks, over his lips.

There was a small shift in him, a skipped heart small, smoldering at the motion. A simple touch that had Echo concentrating much to hard to focus on the boys words, at least until the boy jerked. His hand coming up to his head in a jarring motion.

“Echo. Echo is my name. And yes, i did. No need to thank me.”

Echo’s heart snatched as he watched the darkling move backward, the words continuing to pour out of his mouth.

“I don’t know what you humans call this, we call it the End. Where the land reaches much too high for any of us to wander.”

There was a silence as he watched the boy writhed, and Echo shifted, digging his fingers into the small pouch that clung to his hip , digging for the small pocket of Salve he carried in the pockets. His other hand moved out, forcing the boy's neck to the side to let the bleeding gash hit the open air. Echo’s eyes narrowed on the cut, fingers trying to move the debris that seemed locked into his locks.

“This is going to hurt. But stay still for me a moment.”

The oiled substance stuck between his fingers as he pressed the tips of his fingers against the gash, smoothing the small amount into the wound. It would burn, it would sting the wound beyond any type of mercy but it would work. Help the blood clot and start to close the wound. The man would be able to be up and moving at any point,

at a point that he knew he should be far away as possible by then.

“It should start to take effect relatively soon. It is better to feel this type of pain rather than be dead i suppose.”

--------------------

“LOCHLAN! GRAB IT!”

The captain’s words shot out like gunfire, snapping lochlan from his trance at seeing something so strange. His body moved before he even really realized he had listened, the entirety of his 6’4 frame moving to push off against the slippery deck, his hands finding the body of the half man, half fish like creature. He practically tackled him, sliding along the floor to grab hold of his arm, his eyes widening as he spotted his other tangled up in the rope of the net he had just pulled up.

‘That explains why it was so heavy.’ Lochlan mused for all of a moment, feeling the slap as the boy struggled under him,  his tail slapping against his jacket covered back, a grunt pulling from his lips as he wrapped his arms around him, pulling him up as he rolled onto his back and forced them up, his breath heavy as he looked down at the man in his arms being held down by the weight of Lochlan and the tangle of the net.

“Calm down, I don’t want to hurt you!” He could hear himself saying, not really knowing if he could understand him, but choosing to try anyway. The boy wasn’t really that much trouble when he was subdued, his strength impressive by with the adrenaline running through his veins and the hours he had spent on this ship, in the gym training for this trip and for the team he had found himself on in highschool, Lochlan found he didn’t even feel it as the boy battered against him, though eh had the feeling it was going to leave some serious bruises.

“Take It to the Cargo Hold, any of you!…. I gotta get Mr. Dhouti on the phone…”

The captain mumbled his words after that choosing to turn on heel and head back toward the captain’s quarters, stopping just enough to turn to the rest of the baffled crew and snap his next orders. He looked stressed, his fingers cracking as they clenched and uncurled. The darkness of the clouds was starting to settle in, the storm approaching, and Lochlan had to wonder if he would die on this boat.

It was looking like a pretty big possibility.

“DROP ANCHOR HERE! I’m not leaving this spot until I get a hold of The Senator, so you all can quit your bitching and rest like the princess fucks you are.”

Then he was gone, returning to his quarters, and leaving them to fend for themselves.

Fucking asshole.

“Alright, Come on, Captain’s orders…” The voice of Crane, a man in his mid fifties with salt and pepper hair moved forward, his voice gruff and straight, like sand had worn at his vocal cords. He was like an alcoholic father figure that didn’t know how to stop making creep vulgar comments, but mostly harmless. That didn’t show as He shifted, picking up the boy roughly, mostly by the net to throw him over his shoulder, not seeming to care that the position looked like it would hurt.

“Stop! You’re gonna hurt him!”

Crane ignored him, just disappeared into the cargo hold.

“This whole boat is full of assholes…. Whatever, let’s just do what eh says and try and settle in…”

That didn’t prove to be easy. Once the Anchor was dropped, everyone pretty much settled in for the night. Crane and Jacob set up their cards, Ebbe had returned to his own little room to read the book he had brought along with him, a large thick tome in some sort of ancient language. The rest were milling about, but  Lochlan returned to the boat’s deck, ignoring the clouds as he looked out to the ocean, watching her waves crack against the boat but held himself steady.

It was a stupid man who did not keep his footing at all times on a boat.

“You’re worried about it, aren’t you?”

Ebbe’s voice shot out, making the blonde and brunette bounce and jump, his gaze snapping back toward the redhead whose gaze matched the clouds above. He blinked, opening his mouth to say something but the words were halted by Ebbe again, who rolled his eyes at him.

“Just go check on him. You’re too nice…. You’ll make yourself sick again with worry, so just check on the thing…”

Ebbe shifted, leaning on the rails next to him.

“Just bring your knife with you.”

“I already have it….” Lochlan said as he moved, leaving his spot to head toward the hold.

He could have swore he heard him call him a bitch, but if it was from Ebbe, he probably didn’t mean it.

Lochlan creeped down the stairs, blinking into the dark as he looked around. His hand fell to his pocket fingering the pocket knife. The light was dim as he pulled the chain, illuminating the room to reveal scores of tools and weapons, nets and hooks, and in the middle of it all,  tied to a support beam, was the creature.

“Hey… Hey… can you talk?” He asked as he moved closer, crouching down low, fingertips against the ground. He was close, close enough to smell the sea on him, Lochlan’s eyes flickering over him to see if he was wounded

“Are you hurt?”

---------

All the legends were true, all of the myths and lores he grew up on, thinking they were just trying to make a species so monstrous that none of them dared approach, were in fact real. The cruelty that laid in these creatures was black and lifeless, soulless. And he would not doubt it if they bleed black and grew horn in the middle of the night.

They were not creatures to be reckoned with. And his mistake would never be rectified, would only be fully understood after his death at the hands of these…. Monsters of the land. They ignored him, stopped his only attempt at leaving and moved him too far away from any possible escape now.

He was lost now. His fate would have to be simply accepted.

They were rough, fingers tightening on his skin with bruising forces. He tried, tried to call out to them, tried to beg with everything he could offer, bribe the humans. But not one of the men batted their eyes even the old guy that dropped him with a thump onto the ground seemed uninterested in his words.

Not that they could understand Ridley. He knew that. Knew that his words were coming out in chirps and gruffs that their ears could barely audibly pick up. Knew that they would only hear them if they concentrated hard enough, and knew that truly none of them had any interest in what he had to say at this point. He was only a pawn now. Could only be valued after his death took place.

“Sir, please…. Please… hold on… Sir!”

He called after the old man as he stood, his eyes looking over the ropes and net that tangled him, making sure that the work he had done was well. If Ridley had a say in it, the man had done too well. The ropes cutting into delicate flesh and scales as he bunched his tail as close to him as possible. Trying for the life to him look as small as he could. It wasn’t until the light shifted, flickering before turning completely out that dread wrapped itself around him.

It was cold, the air frosting over his skin as the wind whirled and whipped against the boat, the wooden structure creaking and groaning in the silence of the blackened room around him. It was heart wrenching, the cry that ripped apart his lips, Ridley could feel the tears stinging behind his eyes, but he wouldn’t let them fall. Not to these humans, not to the absolute filth that inhabited this boat.

But for his brothers he would, for Ethan he would, for the life he knew was getting ripped away from him, he would. Another sob parted his lips, ripped through the silence he was trying to hold. His fingers clenching at his hips as he sunk deeper into this heart ache that was gripping him so heavily.

Until the lights flickered, the sound of foot steps accompanying the light that flooded the wooden floor. Ridley tried to move, to squirm into himself, to look away from the man as he bent over in front of him, his words ringing to unaccustomed ears. Ridley flexed, his fins shifting and widening, as the man spoke, his ears lifting to frill the fins that laid attached to them, as if this would help him understand the man in front of him.

“Don’t leave me down here… please.”

He knew the words would fall on deaf ears, knew that it would do nothing to beg for this man help. But he could try, could try to somehow get across to him. And he shifted trying to lean in closer to the man as he spoke. The chips poured from his lips, whines and gruffs trying to explain himself out of the situation desperately.

“Let me go home… I’m scared.”

------------------

The moment he spoke, Carson was ensnared, his head snapping back up to take him in again for a moment before the pain hit him again suddenly, achingly desperate to make it’s presence known that it slammed against his temples, pulsed behind his eyes and made alarm ring off in his head. His voice was soothing, the calming hint of the waves hidden in that voice, a pull like no other, practically a song in it’s own right. Carson couldn’t remember a time that he had thought so highly of a voice that had said something so flippant and carefree, like it was nothing, that he wasn’t a creature conjured up from the depths of his imagination.

But he was. There was no denying that, bit as the sun glinted off scales in luminescent colors, like the light shining off a puddle of oil. This man, Echo, Echo was something he had never dreamed of seeing, long having left fantasy on the shelf as he picked up textbook after textbook to follow in his father’s footsteps, all while ignoring the call of the ocean just outside of his home.

“I do need to thank you. I Thought… I thought I was gonna…” the words faded away, unable to voice what he had though, the truth he had almost accepted. There was a moment, before Echo spoke up again, moving on, But Carson would not forget.

Echo spoke, his words soft, and Carson could feel it as he mouth the words that the blond had just said, before the dots connect, his mind much too distracted by the freckles dusting over Echo’s face, the strange accessories he wore.

“We call this the Shore… or the beach. We’re closer toward the bay, if I can guess correctly.” The last words were mostly to himself, a mutter that was almost inaudible with his accent lining his words. His thoughts wavered, spilled over as he thought, and suddenly he felt hands on  him, moving his hair out of the way, fingers threading through his hair to pull a shiver down his spine. He liked it, the feeling of his hands on him, and carson leaned into the touch, his eyes hooded but his gaze flickering through dark lashes to look at what he could of the blond, not wanting to take his eyes off him.

“Echo, what are you…?”

He didn’t get to say much else, as for the second time that dayl, pain exploded behind his eyes, lights flashing in his veion as the back of his head felt like it had been bashed in with a bat. He cried out, hands moving as he fell forward, his eyes squeezing shut as he let the pain run through him. It was fine, he thought, forced himself to think over the pain, small droplets welling in his eyes as he sucked in another breath.

He had dealt with worse.

“Ow… FUCK me… That hurts… what’s in that stuff, Glass?”

The words came out accented, thick with his native tongue as he hissed in displeasure, but true to his word, the pain started to fade, dimming away to something almost manageable. Carson’s hand moved, to trace over the gap, one that while still tender was now healing, and quickly. He could already feel the itch of scabs starting to form.

“Holy shi-”

“I have to go.”

Echo voice pulled him from his mind once again, and even if he wanted to eh could not keep the look of shock and disappointment from crossing over his features. He moved, his hand reaching out to grab Echo’s who looked down at their hands in what looked like shock or confusion. Carson didn’t care.

“Wait, I-”

“I have to go.” Echo repeated, and pulled his hand away. Carson Panic, watching as the man moved, sliding along the soft sands to pull himself into the waves, and before he lowered his head underwater, Carson moved, leaning forward.

“Carson! My name is Carson Dhouti! Thank you!”

And he was gone, and Carson was left alone, nothing but waves and seagulls calling to him.

--------------------

“Woah, Hey, Hold on, I can’t…”

Lochlan could see he was trying, Trying to speak, to say something, but the words were lost to him, ears too human, to foreign to truly understand what it was this boy was saying. They Were pretty, little chips and grunts and tilts that sounded something like a song, though he knew that this boy had no reason for singing as he was tied up, ripped from his home. His expressions flickered over his face freely, the tinge of desperation that lined his features made Lochlan’s heart clench tightly, his hand moving from out of his pocket as his hands came up, to lift  and brush over his shoulders.

His heart hammered in his chest, seeing him like this bothered him, deeply. He could see he was afraid, could see the fear in his eyes as he tried to speak, tried to get his point across but could not.

“Calm down… I can’t understand you… Shit this would be so much easier if I was like Ebbe and could pick up twenty thousand other languages for fun…..”

Lochlan cursed his brain, not the first time and most certainly not the last. He wished he was book smart, Like Ebbe, like Carson, the kind of guy who had studied for fun and knew the answer to everything. As it was, Lochlan had hardly made it through school with his scholarships, his grade a product of work and long nights killing himself for not understanding simple questions. It would be helpful now, but all the wishing in the world did not change what was.

This boy was scared. He was terrified and had no one to help him. Hell, he had been thrown here without so much as a courtesy light, and a temper he tried to keep down flared brightly.

“Shh… It’s okay…” lochlan cooed, his lids lowering as his eyes hooded, his hands moving to brush over his cheeks , through his hair to sooth him in all the little ways that helped him. He settled, sitting his butt down on the cold floor, the rocking of the boat getting harder as he pulled the boy into his lap. His hand reached for his pocket again, pulling out the knife that started the man in his hands, making Lochlan wrap him in his arms to settle him down again. He spoke softly against his skin, his cheek, his temple, his neck, fingers tracing patterns over him in familiar ways, soothing him.

“Just the net… I’m gonna get you out of the net.” He pointed to the rope, his gaze locked on it as he moved slowly, pick up the trapped arm with a gentle touch, the blade finding the ropes to cut through them. It was a meticulous task, one that slowly made his arms burn with the weight of holding him close and working slowly through the ropes, until he was finally free, remnants resting on the floor around them like littered scales. Lochlan place the knife down, shifting so that eh could lift his hands in front of them both, turning them slowly.

“There. I’m done. I’m sorry… I’m so sorry, I don’t know how to help.”

He wanted to help. That was the thing. Lochlan wanted to help, wanted to say something, anything, to make that look of fear go away. But this was all he could do, all he could hope to do without understanding him. Lochlan’s hands ran through the man’s hair, blond locks  and a red brown gaze that locked the older man in place.  He held him, soothing over him with words that he hoped he at least understood the meaning, his hands running through hair and along his spine. He breathed stories to him, kept him safe as the boat rocked with the storm and the light shut off again.

Lochlan did not leave until they had docked, and he did not let go until the man was pulled from his hands.

Lochlan was given a bonus and told not to speak of it.

Lochlan had not slept well either, the sight of his face as he was being pulled away haunting his dreams.

He had to see him again.

He had to.

------------

It was world altering, a moment he would probably not forget for years to come. His fingers were still warm from the human's touch,... from Carson's touch. The look that he was giving Echo still gleaming even as he turned back to look through the ocean waters at the darkling that sat lost at shore.

He would find his way. What mattered, what truly mattered was that the human was safe, he was alive and breathing in the cool air into his lungs instead of the ocean water. Something Echo had learned through watching many humans, something he had witnessed first hand. It was simple, they breathed their air, their form oxygen and Echo breathed both.

The humans didn’t function on the same level, and took Echo seeing the marvel for himself to truly believe the words that his dad had spoke to him. Words of warning and those words were meant to scare them, him and his brothers. Meant to strike some kind of fear into the heart of the blonde boys that surrounded their father as he sung his praises of being mermaids. The praises of well they had it down here, how well they had all done to conceal their presents to humans for centuries.

And they were doing so well, until Echo had fucked it up. Unable to listen to the rules of their society. The number one being, leave the humans to  their own. To never interact and to make sure that they never saw them. Was never able to lay eyes on a tail or fin. Or scales, anything of the sort. Anything that the greedy humans could deem as valuable.  

But this human seemed thankful, truly. His interest lying in only the unknown of Echo and what could a human with no real way to find him do? Nothing that Echo could take too seriously. But he was alluring in his own way, the human boy Carson. His eyes haunting him even to this moment, those eyes that stuck to him so well. Even though Echo knew without a doubt that he may have been the one staring. A little too much, but a human up close was so different. Their reaction unexpected and reality unlike anything he had ever felt.

Echo could feel the smile pulling at his lips, offering what could only be described as a crooked smile.

“ECHO! THEY HAVE RIDLEY! THAT BOAT! IT TOOK HIM, IT TOOK HIM!”

The voice caused Echo to flinch to pulled so quickly out of his thoughts it was almost alarming. But small hand were yanking on his flesh as the words were bellowed. Distress etching every inch of Ethan's small frame. It was his brother's name though that caught him, that snapped his attention and forced Echo forward, his arms finding either one of Ethan’s biceps, pulling him close.

“What do you mean it took him? Ethan?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT TOOK HIM!?”

Echo could see the sheer grief over Ethan’s expression even as he got shook ruthlessly.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN, ETHAN?!”

------------

He should have been used to it, to the blistering cold and the wild winds that seemed to surround him by now. Should not have expected any sort of treatment besides this from the dastardly humans. Only a few had been allowed in, ogling at the what he could only imagined they called ‘fish-boy’. Hell, he would have called himself that,.... If he still had a fin or tail. Instead he had dried out, his skin losing it sheen as the cold air took away every drop that had previously clung to his flesh. Now in his tails place was what the humans called legs, sprouting but unmoving as he shifted uncomfortably in this new form of his.

Which had initially surprised him, scared him even further. He felt lost. Too far away from home as he sat in the cell, his back pressed into his corner and his legs shaking against his chest.

They were trying, he could say that, all pretty smiles and words of silk and honey. Not that that mattered. He didn’t respond instead trying to force himself smaller in his cage. They brought him squares of fluff, which he could only eyeball wildly. Was it supposed to be a comfort in the human world? A square of puffed fluff. The humans had given him dish after dish, trying to coax Ridley. Trying to force feed him until his teeth had found one of the men’s fingers. It was the last time one of them had walked into help him. The last time any of them had made attempts to calm the raging Langdon.

The only remnant he had now of his heritage was the scales that littered his skin, small splotches of ‘freckles’ and the fins that protected his ears so well. He knew he looked other worldly to the lot of them. Knew that most of them were only interested in the part of him that wasn’t ‘human’. But the truth behind it was, he wasn’t. He was a mermaid. A creature of fable and legends on dry land.

But his surprise only happened days after being there, his ears straining to hear the whispered words that echoed outside of the cell walls. But what he caught meant nothing to happen, instead only confusing him further. It was a woman's voice, soothing and caressing. Almost insuring as she spoke her words. But a man’s snapped back, firm in his resolution but yielding to her as she spoke, stopping to allow her to explain.

There was a silence before the man spoke again, this times his words brief. The tone defeated, he could almost visibly see arms getting thrown up over the situation.

Once more the woman spoke out, her words all the more loving, all the more soothing as she insured him.

But then the doors creaked open. And Ridley threw a glance over the tops of his knees to the dark haired woman. Her multi colored eyes on him, shining as she bent down outside the cell. Her forearms coming up to catch onto her thighs.

“Hello,... My name is Arber. Arber Dhouti. And i am going to need you to speak to me.”

Ridley marveled for a moment, his whole world spinning as the woman spoke, the words clear as day to him. He could feel himself getting pulled, the knees dropping as his mouth went slack all at once. His confusion clearly painted across his features as the woman spoke.

“That right there.”

Her hand moved suddenly, her finger pointed to the square of fluff laid out beside him. But her eyes remained on him.

“It’s a blanket. The humans use them to keep warm. It goes around your shoulders. Or over your legs…..”

Ridley was still reeling, but his fingers moved, reaching out for the square in almost a trance with the woman in front of him. Pulling the cold bundle over his bare legs, but he didn’t dare break eye contact. Not with this woman. Not to the only one he could understand.

“What is your name, Nekmit?”

The familiar endearment struck him odd, and only fascinated him further. He was almost afraid to answer her, afraid that the woman would turn away if she got what she wanted, but she wore a smile, one that almost seemed genuine. She seemed to care for the small boy in the cage and he couldn't deny her what she wanted, not when she used that voice so heavenly sweet to call to him.

“It’s Ridley. Ridley Langdon.”

“OH! You’re a Langdon son. It explains a lot about your stubborn nature you seem to harbor.”

There was a small chuckle in her voice as she spoke to him, her fingers coming up to brush against her lips. It took a second but finally the woman sat, her bottom hitting the floor with a small thump.

“You know the rules that are set underneath? They are set for a reason my dear, Ridley. Why would you get so close to the humans?”

“.....Who are you?”

He couldn’t help it, now when the woman, Arber Dhouti spoke to him so calmly, so fluently. Her eyes kind and her tone even kinder. Though she wasn’t the one she was hoping for he took the company with ride, through the confusion was beginning to become somewhat of a problem as she shifted uncomfortably.

“It’s best if we move on from this subject, Ridley. Just know, my name is Arber. I’m here to help you. No one else is going to hurt you. It is something i can promise.”

“Are you going to let me go?”

“......No. unfortunately. The rules are setting you in dangerous ways if you go back. Me and you both know that. We are finding other methods of… release. Somewhat. But the ocean is lost to you now, Nekmit. There is no returning.”

-------------------

Carson’s return home was loud, full of sobs and hugs and worried glanced over shoulders, his mother's and his father’s arms around him as they pulled him close, their murmurings of how they had been so scared, how they had thought they lost him to the sea whispering over his hearing. His mother had refused to let him go, and his father brushed tears off his face with the back of his expensive suit, Ragnar practically sobbing for forgiveness at almost killing him. It had taken a while, that was sure, to soothe them all, to tell them he was just tired and achy from his tumble in the underwater rivers, that he just wanted to rest. His mother insisted he sleep with her that night, had insisted he share the bed with his parents like he was four again and scared of the dark.

But it soothed her, and If His mom was happy he wouldn’t have to hear it from his dad.

They hovered over him, watching him like he might fall right back into the ocean, but Carson did not care, could not really find it in him to be bothered by such things. As it was, His mind had been consumed, absolutely enthralled with finding each and every bit of information he could on Mermaids.

Days had passed since he had least seen Echo, days that had seen Carson pouring over books to glean even the slightest bit of information, and night spent staring at the moon as he listened to the waves just outside his home, listening as his dad rambled about the biggest scandal to hit their town since his father had chosen to marry his mother. He listened to the waves, the birds as they called, and he remembered the little look of shock as he grabbed his hand and the way he had seemed to carefree, the cute little smile that was not really a smile at all. Days had passed, but Carson found he could not get the beautiful man out of his head, could not stop longing for his voice to drift up with the waves below him, and night where he should have been sleeping were spent hoping, wishing …. And remembering.

His mother had told him so many stories when he was young, and never in his wildest dreams had he thought he would become so enthralled by something as fanciful as Mermaids, But as it was, it seemed the fates had other plans for him, as not even an hour after his return home, his father received an important call. He could remember his dad trying to brush it off, but in the end, he had been forced to leave and see to the matter, something that, at the time, Carson had thought nothing of.

His father was a busy man, someone looked up to, a man people told first without pause. He ran this city, this town, this state, and nothing happened without his say so, especially not here in their pleasant little mountain beach home.

But when he returned home, his father seemed…. Spooked, shook like he had seen the depths of hell and the creatures that dwelled there. It had taken some persuading, but eh had finally got it out of him.

Some fishermen had found something. Something unexplainable.

Carson, later that night, met the second Mermaid he had ever seen in his life.

It wasn’t Echo. There was a shock as he took in the man behind the bars, the man much smaller than the blond he had seen but barring a very close resemblance to him. Carson hadn’t expected the fates to deliver Echo back to him so easily, if at all, but it had been… a spark of hope, a gleam of a wish. It was crushed as he took him in, but he still watched him with interest, his one way to possibly know more about Echo if he could just get him alone.

There was only so much that Carson would do in one day.  He was ushered out before he could even talk to him.

Thus why he was so excited for this morning.

Today, He got to see the mermaid again.

He wasn’t paying attention as he was walking. That much was obvious as he was taken by surprise, grabbed roughly and suddenly. He was on his way to his bike when he was stopped, the feeling of a hand on his bicep making him jump as he blinked, his body being slammed against the wall as a very frustrated looking Lochlan glared up at him with a snarl on his lips. Carson blinked, breathing in as Lochlan stared at him, waiting for him to get on with what eh wanted.

He didn’t have to wait long.

“Take me with you.”

The words were clipped, short, hurried and irritated. Knowing that no one was supposed to know about it, Carson pulled a face of ignorance, blinking as he tilted his head to the side.

“What?”

“Don’t play DUMB, Carson, the boy, the one that I pulled up from out of the ocean, and left to be poked and prodded by the scientists. The mermaid. Take. Me. to. Him.”

The words hit him oddly, a low soft sound of anger drifting over him as he took in the unhinging man. Normally, Carson would say no, laugh at him, but something in him make him reconsider. Maybe it was the way Lochlan looked so distressed, the usually calm boy frustrated beyond all belief. Lochlan was kind, soft, the sweet summer child kind of boy to Carson’s jagged winters. It must be important to him to demand it in this way.

“You pulled him up? Where? How, what did he say?” the question flew past his lips as he raced to get his car keys, practically running to the car, only matched by Lochlan’s pace. They rode together conversation flowing as he asked questions, though the answers only made him more curious.

No one could understand this boy, but with Echo he could perfectly understand him. Echo spoke fluent English, not a sign of a foreigner's tongue on the words. Why could this one not?

“I have to see him again. I fucked up, Car. I shouldn’t have kept him on that boat.”

Carson’s gaze glided over to the man sitting before him, snapping back to the building that was just starting to loom.

“You did the right thing. This is an important discovery.” The words were empty, repeated from his father’s advisors. Lochlan didn’t look at him, looking out of the window as they drove into the garage to park, descended into darkness as he finally spoke up.

“Could you have done it? If You had seen him?”

Instantly, Echo’s face popped up, fresh, vivid in his mind.His smile, the look of shock…. And then the boy’s dead expression as he had seen him last. Could have seen that face on Echo and the knowledge he had done it to him, could he have lived with that?

Carson had no answer for that.

---------------------

Lochlan wasn’t used to this sort of establishment, did not belong here, and it showed the instant that he walked through those doors.

There wasn’t many people around, only a secretary at the front desk that paled as she saw Carson walk in, her hands crinkling the paper she held as she watched the darkling moved. Lochlan could admit, even as his friend and a close one at that, that Carson was an intimidating sort of guy, the kind that seemed to have a switch in him that went off at the slightest bit of inclination that he might be underestimated. There was something about him, something in him that radiated leadership and demanded respect, made you want to follow his commands, a fear engraved in you even though he had never so much as rose his voice in your presence. You listened to him. And it only helped that his dad was practically the king of their little town, it’s inhabitants following him blindly, without protest.

Such devotion to his father had bled to his son, and Even now, Carson walked like he owned the building, breezing past the secretary without so much as even a glance, the juxtaposition between his awkward wave, stumble over his own two feet and nearly silently ‘Sorry’ more blaring than a siren.

Carson seemed like he was born for this, Born to get and do what he wanted, when he wanted, for no other reason other then he wanted it.Meanwhile, Lochlan had to hope he got lucky and someone took pity on him, or he had to work his fingers to the bone to get a suitable substitute.

Not this time.

The thought was harsh, glaring against the usual nerves that flooded his mind when he was in places like this, Expensive and rich and clearly not made for a fisherman to walk through it’s halls. He gave Carson Credit, taking him here with only the smallest of explanation, but as he delved deeper into the twists and turns of the labyrinth that called itself a lab, Lochlan couldn’t help but feel like maybe he had made a mistake in rushing over to the Dhouti household, had been rash in his instance that Carson took him with him. He didn’t belong here, he didn’t belong in this place. What would he even say to him when he saw him, considering he couldn’t understand him and he couldn’t tell him how sorry he was he had gotten him into this mess. Lochlan knew it was rash, it was irrational that he had stormed here, But the memory of his face, that expression over his features as the pulled him from his hands….

It haunted him, and Lochlan had this need, this urge, to see him again, To fix something beyond his reach...

But now that it was in front of him, what was he supposed to fucking do? What could he do?

Lochlan could only guess.

The doors opened before him, a bright light stinging his eyes as they stepped from the dimmer hallways and into the darker room, light spilling from what Lochlan could only assume was a one way window into the cell that they had placed the boy in. Dark brown eyes narrowed as he lifted his hand, the sound of a sudden gasp slipping past Carson making his gaze snap from the overly bright window to the figure leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, glare locked on the window like it had personally insulted him.

“Dad!”

If Lochlan had thought Carson was intimidating, Soven Dhouti was absolutely terrifying. He was the exact picture of what he assumed a senator to be, the exact image that his mind created when he thought of the world leader. Soven was more than just a Senator, he practically ran this town, the owner of multiple companies and the father of one of his best friends. More often than not, you would find him in suits, hair slicked back or hidden away, clean cut and absolutely lethal. Now, however, it seemed he couldn’t have been bothered with appearance, clad in his white t-shirt and a pair of ragged jeans and boots.  He would have looked like he belonged on the cover of some sort of fan service magazine for women if it wasn’t for the very palpable anger that was radiating off of him in heated waves.

Lochlan fell behind as Carson smiled, walking up to the imposing man.

Carson seemed to have a birth defect that made him lose his sense of fear and self preservation.The man stood at 6’7, towering over most, a trait he had given to his sons in spades, which only added to the imposing air he already had.. He was blond, platinum blond falling over his eyes as he glared, his eyes narrowing as Carson walked in, speckled blue green and brown drifting over to his black haired son, the look on his face softening immensely before he  looked back again at the sight in the cell, his stance never moving.

“What’s going on?” Carson never sounded more like a child then when he was talking to his parents, all curious tones and absolute trust. Soven sighed, dropping his hands to his side before lifting them in what could only be described as irritated acceptance.

“Your Mother wanted to talk to him, and she wouldn’t let it go. I tried talking her out of it, but she’s hard headed, like someone else I know.” Lochlan watched, amazed as Soven smiled and teased his son, pulling on his cheeks and earning a laugh from his friend. The blond man watched him with adoration, before his gaze hardened again.

“You were told not to come back here, Carson, why are you here? More importantly….” He tried off, and for the first time since he entered, Soven’s eyes flashed over to Lochlan. The man swallowed thickly, brown eyes locked on speckled blue, a shot of fear rippling over his spine.

“What are you doing here?”

Carson moved, laughing as he placed himself between them. He opened his mouth to say something, but something in Lochlan made him move, his hand falling to the Darkling’s shoulder as his own stare hardened.

“I want to see him. The mermaid. I was the one who pulled him out, I was the one held him during the storm and I was the one who made sure nothing happened to him. I’m not being left in the dark.”

Soven didn’t say anything for a moment, and it felt like an eternity had passed before he sighed, once again lifting his hand in a dismissive gesture.

“Go on then. I guess i’m just surrounded by Hard headed people. You will be required to sign a silence waver. You’re not allowed to talk about anything you hear or see in this building, Do you understand?”

Lochlan understood. You didn’t cross a Dhouti without serious consequences.

Lochlan moved, ignoring the mummers behind him in favor of the small little chips that were filtering through the door that led into the cell. Lochlan paused, his eyes on the door as he breathed in, now or never, sink or swim and god he felt like he was drowning.

Just see him again… we’ll start from there.

------------

Days. Four to be exact.

Four days of nothing but excruciating madness as the Langdons seemed to fall into what could only be called a madness. His father switched between anger and suffering, his mother inconsolable, the only solace she had was found in his father's arms.

The story was repeated. And recited to every Langdon, their interrogation of the smaller Delarosa was intense, their question bombarding, and relentless. Even Echo found himself tearing into the obviously frightened and worried boy. His words were starting to break, his spirit obviously deteriorating quickly as Scythe began for the thirtieth time to question Ethan. Blue eyes locked on cognac ones, ones that were filled with something between rage and desperation.

It was a long process, a process that Echo knew would lead them nowhere if they didn’t actually do anything. Not that the laws allowed them to do anything about the situation. On the contrary, if he was going to stand by their laws, Ridley was gone to them. His youngest brother was gone and by the laws would remain that way, even if he returned, he would have been an outcast, or worse, killed off.

Relations with any human was strictly forbidden. A law that was not taken lightly down here. A law that was taken to the fullest extent went presented, there were no warnings, there were no second chances. No matter the age. You were gone, nothing other than a traitor to their kind.

But still the days passed, a blur of emotions riddling through him until he had made that final decision. The one he knew could end his life, the one that he knew that the others had been having whispers of. But… They did not all have to suffer the same fate as what he knew making this decision would force him to face. The same fate that Ridley had been forced into.

But it wasn’t Ridleys fault he was caught, he was tangled into the net. From what Ethan had described he had fought against the ropes, he had tried to get out to free himself from the fate that he inevitably knew would befall him if he didn’t. And still. He had lost. And Echo could feel his heart wrenching, trying to tear from him as he thought about the fear that must have been wracking his brother. He could feel the frown pulling at his lips as the images raced behind his eyes.

But he was soft, his words coming out smoothly as tanned fingers pressed the bridge of his nose. His other hand clenched onto the smaller boy's shoulder,  trying to force him into place so he could speak to him.

“Tell me again, Ethan. Tell me what happened out there. I need to know before i head out.”

He had to give Ethan some kind of credit, he stood tall, something most didn’t expect out of him. The boy was fragile looking, small and almost dainty in his movements, but he knew how to carry himself, knew how to act when it came down to it. And it came as no real shock when Ethan bucked up, his chest puffing out just that bit.

“I’ll just show you myself, we can get him back together.”

He was stern his voice, much like Echo’s came out softly, almost tentative but still he let those eyes fall on Echo own. Stern in his motion to accompany him. Ethan Delarosa let his hands clench into small fist. He knew what it meant to get caught, he knew what it meant just to go look for Ridley.

And here he was, still prepared for whatever the outcome may be.

“That makes sense. You did lose him.”

He chuckled half heartedly, his finger releasing the bys shoulder just to slap against his skin one good time.

--------------

“Wait…. What, what do you mean i can’t return?”

“If i allowed you return to Hydsa, if i said you could leave and not have to worry about any of us coming after you, where would you go? To your family? To the kingdom that you know would label you a traitor and willingly feed you to the shark?”

Ridley sunk back, his back hitting the cold concrete of the wall with a small thump, his head smacking right after that. He lifted his eyes to the ceilings, looking but not really seeing. She was right, where would he go, what would he do with himself once he got back, the questions would pile in. Every official would be sure to drag out the truth from him. If Ethan did not already tell them himself.

It was his fault. His fault for taking Ethan out so far into the human territories. Luckily though, it was only him paying the consequences. It was only him that was crammed into a hollow husk of a cage, and not with Ethan along his side. Stuck in the same predicament, with nowhere to run.

Arber shifted on the floor, her eyes trying hesitant but watchful. Her fingers rested easy against her knees, her black hair fell over her shoulders in waves as she watched. She was trying to be helpful, but she was human. She cold possibly make the damage worse. She could take his trust and twist games around the people holding him captive. He was always told that the humans were evil, always felt the itch of fear when the stories of them were told.

And from his experience with them thus far, he could truly state that they were just as horrible as he thought they were gonna be. She spoke softly as if she was speaking to an injured animal, her tone much too calm for a woman he knew was probably the reason he was actually here.

“I’m not here to scare you, Ridley. I want to help, but yo have to trust me. If even just a little bit.”

“How do you know  my lan-”

There was a creak of hinges, the aluminum door swinging open to reveal the same man who had wandered across his thoughts once or twice since being in the confinement. Ridley watched with curious eyes as the darkling in front of him turned her head, shifting that smile to the brown and blonde haired boy that passed behind the door. One of her hands flung out in welcome to the much taller boy, her other coming down to rub against the floor that she was sitting on.

Brown eyes flickered to Ridleys and he couldn’t hold them, turning her head to shift his eyes back to Arber. There was a flare of temper whipping at his mind, forcing his eyebrows down as he looked away from the man. Irritation bloomed in his chest, but only if because it was the very man that had him confused. Forcing him to this and then soothing him through his way to this hell.

Ridley could see the hesitation that was littered in the man’s expression, painting across his body as he strode closer.

“Ah, Lochlan, here my love, come sit next to me. I’ll introduce you to Ridley.”

---------------------------

He watched him, Watched his long time friend slip into the cell, the old wooden door shutting quietly behind him with a soft click that resonated through the silence that had followed Lochlan’s declaration. He could see him still, Lochlan’s Brown and blond hair falling down his back, little braids and hair mattes that laziness refused to brush out, long strands spilling over his shoulders as he spoke, the words muffled by still slightly audible.  He moved slightly, moving to place himself next to his mother, and Carson found himself wondering how of all people, the one to have pulled the scandal straight from the sea itself was his own Lochan, his sweet summer child, the boy too kind hearted for his own good and just about the last person who needed to have the weight of guilt slowing him down.

But fate had never been kind, and so it was with a heavy mantle about his shoulders Lochlan tried to make things right.

“Why did you come here, Carson?” His father’s voice asked, and Carson turned, duel colored gaze flicking back to his father's.

What was he supposed to tell him?

Carson hadn’t spoken a word about that day, the day he almost drowned and echo had saved him from an almost certain death. It wasn’t from a lack of being on his mind, mind you, as it had been on his mind frequently. Carson couldn’t tell you the number of times he had thought about it, about the merman that had stolen his thoughts  with that red brown gaze and the quick quirk of his lips, could not tell you the number of hours he had spent in his bed staring at the window as he heard that ocean's lullaby, wondering about a creature long since thought fantasy, if maybe he didn’t dream it, imagined it….

But fantasies don’t hold him, and they don’t fix near lethal wounds.

Carson had wanted to tell his family… Hell, the moment he got back, Carson had wanted to tell them about the man who had saved him, about the Mermaid named Echo who had saved him, healed him and swam off, the only reason he still breathed today. He wanted to tell them what happened, but as soon as he had made to, his father’s phone had started going off, calling him into work. His mother had been angry at the phone, and his dad had put it off for as long as he could before he left, and really, as strange as it sounds, Carson felt fine after nearly dying. He was thirsty, tired, hungry, but his body only ached from fatigue, his headache gone and  there was a fire in his chest that spurred him into the library.

Carson never got to tell his story, and now, with how this one was being treated, and seeing the regret in Lochlan’s frame…. Carson wasn’t sure he wanted to. If this was how they treated one, he didn’t want to see Echo like that. He didn’t know him, didn’t know anything on him other then he saved his life and had vanished just as quickly as he had come tumbling into his life, but Carson could already tell you that he didn’t want to see him look so…. Lost.

So Carson did something he had never done before.

He lied to his father

“I was just curious, Dad. You know my thing for the ocean and to see that Mermaids actually exist? It’s fascinating. I just… want to know more.”

“... I don’t know how much he would be able to give you, considering he doesn’t speak our language.”

Carson let out a slow breath he didn’t even realize he had been holding. His father accepted his lie easily, and any guilt was overshadowed by relief that there was no one out looking for Echo.

“But Mom speaks thiers.”

It was something that had been bothering him, something that had struck him as strangely and inherently odd. His mind raced with questions, his head tilting as he listened, catching small clicks and grunts that somehow almost formed words, occasionally a word jumping out of him to his tounge.

“That’s-”

“Hey, Carson.”

The sound of another voice stomped out any words his father might have said, any answers he could have gotten. Carson sighed as he turned to ebbe, his friend glaring at him with storms in his eyes. Ebbe tilted his head, long red hair falling over his shoulder, before he jerked his head toward the Exit, his arms in his jacket pockets.

“The boat is heading back out to that spot again.”

The words took a moment to register, clipped and short  with jagged glass in the tones. Ebbe was a hard boy to get to know, not saying much and instead choosing to stare and ignore most of everyone, and when he did talk, more often than not what he said was something insulting, grade A asshole material. Most people chose not to look past that, but Carson knew better, knew Ebbe since he was in middle school. Carson had asked him to keep him updated on when he would be returning out, had told him to tell him if anything else strange had happened or been seen.

Carson nodded, a smile crossing his lips before his dad spoke.

“Can anyone Just… walk up in here? Like how is it that three nineteen year olds just found their way into a supposedly guarded laboratory. Was anyone even up there, anyone at all?”

“No.”

“Oh. Of course. No one to guard the lab with the mermaid in it. Yeah. Okay. that makes total sense.”

Carson watched his father’s brow twitch, his hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose, his eyes closing as he shook his head. Carson wanted to laugh, holding in a chuckle from building in his throat. Ebbe only stared, seemingly uncaring about the obvious distress of the older man, instead turning to look back at Carson.

“Let’s go then. Up that security, Papa Dhouti.”

Ebbe turned on heel, walking back down the hallway. Carson turned, casting a look to the boy who looked so similar to the Mermaid he wanted to see, before he turned away and started out the door.

“Wait! Carson! You Just almost Drowned, I don’t want you to-”

“I’ll be fine Dad, I feel fine. Nothing hurts or anything. I’ll be super careful. Okay, Love you too, bye!”

Carson left him gaping, heard his Dad’s frustrated growl, but he was already following after Ebbe, running to catch up to him.  Ebbe said nothing as they walked through the building, but Carson hadn’t expected any different from him, considering he wasn’t the most talkative guy.

“When do we leave?”

“As soon as we get there.”

Carson smiled.

“Then we’ll take my car.”

---------------------------

Ridley. His name was Ridley.

Somehow that knowledge made everything more real. Lochlan hadn’t had a name before, didn’t have a name for the face that had haunted his dreams. He didn’t think he would ever be able to know his name, didn’t think he would ever really get to know him, and suddenly he had a name to place with him, and it was like everything shifted right into place.

His name was Ridley. Lochlan had fucked over a mermaid named Ridley.

It seemed so much more real with a name for the mermaid, like it was cemented now in facts and not in his head. He couldn’t deny thinking it was possible he imagined it all, that he would wake up and go to work and everyone would laugh at him if he brought up fantasies like capturing a mermaid. He had thought it would be all one extended dream, but the problem with that was that the thoughts of his face, memories of seeing him hurt and scared and alone made his chest hurt and his gut wrench kept him up until morning's early hours, plaguing him enough to create dark shadows under his eyes. It was more blatant now, apparent, and Lochlan bit his lip out of nervousness, tongue playing with the silver of his piercings.

Lochlan moved, taking another step forward to take the seat next to the woman he had come to call Momma Dhouti. He had only known her since freshman year of highschool, but over the years, Mrs. Dhouti had become something like a second mother to him, her entire being warm and inviting and alluring, every inch of her the super mom that she seemed to be known for. It was comforting to see her here, comforting to know that she was here taking care of the boy he was worrying about constantly. She would make sure he's okay, heal any wounds and soothe him, like she did for her sons and their friends, for Him and Ebbe and Ender.  If anyone would make sure the mermaid, Ridley, was okay, it would be her. He settled easily next to her, crossing his legs to let his hands rest on his knees, nerves kicking up again, though there was a slight hesitance to all his movements, his gaze flickering over to Ridley as he drew in a breath.

“How’d you find out his name? He speaks a language I’ve never heard before.”

Lochlan flicked his gaze back to Mrs. Dhouti, his stare curious and confused, but ultimately just returned to the smaller boy, taking in the luminescent scales over his cheeks and face, the bright stare of his eyes as he stared back. He offered him a hesitant smile, a little wave before he dropped his hand..

“If he doesn’t want me here, I’d understand.”

----------------------------

It had been hours, or at least what felt like hours of continuous swimming,  the area just off the shore of the ocean a lot further away than he originally remembered. First to look was Ethan, his  body dipping down to nodded almost excitedly towards him. The boat was only spotted after a single search above the water, Their floodlights must have been blinding up close, because even from thirty feet away he could feel the sting just behind his eyes.

But the waters here were dark, more seaweed dense. So he could see why they would be trying to see into the waters, if only to catch another glimpse at one of the ‘elusive’ mermaids. And they would if Echo had anything else to say about it.Water droplets spray against his skin as he moved just above the surface his eyes on the boat, inspecting for a minute, before dipping again where Ethan stared at him with hopeful eyes.

“Could you throw those guppy eyes somewhere else? God man.”

Storms were already rolling, roaring above the edges surface, cooling the waters as it weathered on. It did nothing to deter Echo Langdon. Rather encouraged, pushed the boy closer until he was within feet of the nets that the humans so haphazardly threw out of their boats. But what all could he really say, it's not as if the Humans really knew what laid beneath the surface of the waters.

“Is that the one though?”

“Yea! That’s literally the same exact boat.”

“Okay, okay dude. Don’t cream yourself, we still gotta get to Ridley.”

Echo smiled, his hand reaching out to push Ethan slightly, but he could feel his own excitement building up in his chest, could feel the hope that had already deep rooted itself in his  heart. This was probably the most excited he had felt in a while, but he refused to let relief hit until he had Ridley back safe in Hydsa with him.

“Okay, so what do we do now?”

“No, no sir. Noper dope. I’m not the only one that gonna sit here and figure things out Ethan. I’m not the smart one of this group thing we all got going on here.”

He could almost hear the boy roll his eyes as he swam closer to the ropes himself, fingers skimming over the thick tufts of net. But Echo was right behind him, his hands shaking as he watched Ethan move fluidly through the ropes, yanking on various ones.

“I mean, one of us can get caught, distract them to the front... Other gets on the ship…. boat ,.... I really don't know the difference. I just thin-”

“Ok, i’m gonna stop you there, your plan is flawed. And borderline stupid…. It's just stupid.”

“Then what do you suggest, Echo?”

“Waiting, at least until they get to shore, we can see where they took him at first at least.”

-------------------

It was strange. Most people would be uneasy with the thought of returning to sea so quickly after they had almost drowned, but as the boat rocked and they moved away from the harbor, Carson found that eh felt more at home then when his feet touch dry solid, mostly still land. He knew his father worried, but his love of the Ocean had not stemmed simply from his mom, his father happiest when you saw him on the waves, be it on a boat, a board or neck deep.  Carson lived for the ocean, the sea and it’s waves, and it had been his careless mistake that had caused him his misfortunate near death.

It was a mistake he did not plan on making again.

The boat rocked, waves still high from last night storm, dark circling clouds telling that nature was not quite done with them yet, the ocean’s spray ghosting over his skin as he looked out toward the horizon. There was nothing but ocean, so much calmer than last night's waves,but still able to rock the boat enough to make him grab hold of the railing again, fingers practically white with ice and force. Ebbe was a few feet away from him, grabbing hold of the rail as he looked out to see, grey eyes moving to search over the water like he would find the exact point that they had pulled the mermaid out of the water. They were close, if the murmurings of half drives as he held onto a hope that was slowly beginning to fade and Carson could not help but feel… disappointed.

It wasn’t like he has expected to see Echo swimming between the white crests of waves, he didn’t expect to really see him out here, but there had been a glimmer of hope that maybe he would see him, or even another Mermaid again. Besides his obvious biases fascination, Carson had always been interested in the sea and it's creatures, had always liked reading and learning about the living beings under the oceans glassy top,  and to know that one of his favorite mythical beast were real, living beings he could see and touch and hear…. It was like he was five again and believing in magic and fairy tales. He felt light and giddy, childish in a sense as he hoped to catch a glimpse of one, but ultimately stared at nothing but blue waters and grey skies.

Reality sunk in harsh, shattering the childlike hope, and Carson, for the first time since his obsession  had been rekindled by the appearance of mermaids in his life, Carson was reminded that it was a more than likely chance that He would never see Echo again. The ocean was vast, and she was deep, and Echo was far beyond his reach now, far beyond any place he could ever follow.

Carson breathed out a low, slow breath.

Maybe Fairy tales are true, but life was still unfair.

“ALl RIGHT, FU- BOYS! TIME TO SETTLE IN FOR THE NIGHT!”

Captain Jackman’s words were stilted, jerky and twisted, almost foreign on his tongue as he awkwardly tried to cover the curse he almost said with another word, The son of his boss on board and not looking the least bit amused as he turned around, dual colored gaze locked on him with a dull expression. They were stopping for the night, and Carson just watched them idly as they set up anchor, throwing out the automatic nets for the night, sticking close to Ebbe but far enough that he wasn’t in the way.

Really, Carson just wanted to go home… The acceptance had cost him a lot of enthusiasm about this trip, and eh wasn’t so keen to spend the night on a ship with a bunch of old men who were trying to act friendly because he was Soven Dhouti’s son and didn’t want him talking bad about them when he returned home, treating him like a child who they could not curse around for fear he would run back to daddy dearest and tattle. Carson Rolled his eyes, passing time by star gazing on the very back edge of the highest point of the boat, high up and away from the sounds of the men under the deck who were laughing a joking with each other.

“Fucking hell Carson. You could be in bed, but nooo…. You had to chase a cute mermaid halfway around the ocean because you don’t know how to casually do anything, do you? Fucking idiot.”

In thirty minutes, they were allowed to do whatever they wanted, Beasts with a child’s understanding of human morals would be allowed free into the streets and here she was, pacing the hallways of Koy’s home as she worried and fret that the reinforced doors would protect them, that they would make it through one more Liberatio. Thirty minutes was all she had before hell night started,  and most of those twenty four hours would be spent huddle up against her best friend, probably in the basement or Koy’s room, dependent on where her small and bubble friend wanted to hunker down.

“REN! Ren, Renny, Renu, Renny girl, my friend…”

She heard her before she saw her, The slightly heated little purr of the brunette that slithered along Renu’s skin like a whisper of flame. The warmth of Surreal’s body was almost welcoming to the ice cold that Koy’s parents  liked to keep their home at, as her hands found their way along her bare arms.  She soothed her with little patterns, something of her motherly instincts coming through even as Renu felt her shift more into her, and smelled the slight sting of alcohol on her breath. Her hands were practiced, be it by the fact that she had Remmy as a best friend and had a constant practice with trying to calm her wild temper as well as keeping her own in check. Surreal practically coddled her as as she pulled her closer, a slightly uncomfortable feeling beginning to crawl up the black haired girl’s spine at the closeness of her breath on her neck, the general unease she held at the touch of others starting to creep along her skin. Surreal didn’t seem to noise Renu’s unease at all, as she swayed slightly on her feet, a cool bottle touching Renu’s side as Surreal used her as something of a crutch.

Of course.

“Stop. Fucking. Freaking. Out.”

Surreal hissed the words in her ear, but most of it had lost it’s edge when she smelled the cheap beer wafting off her in waves. Any sort of affection that might ahin the movements lost a little of the light that had previously mingled in it. Her words only really making Renu roll her eyes for a moment before she shoved the other girl off of her.

“You’re seriously drunk, thirty minutes before Liberatio?”

“Better than running a path into the hardwood floors of my best friend’s house, huh?”

There was a cocky twinge to her lips as Renu felt her face heat, a stubborn burn that bubbled in her throat. Surreal leaned back, laughing as she  brought the bottle back up to her lips, the laughter dying as she took her drink. The brunette twisted on heel, shrugging as she dropped the now empty bottle in the trash can.

“Either way, I’m not drunk. It takes more than a cheap beer to get me drunk.”

Renu watched as surreal moved about the room, her hands brushing over the walls that held them in. The windows had reinforced steel lining the glass, bars decorating the sill. There was a moment that surreal took them in, before she turned back to the pale girl, a look on her face that had Renu’s pride bucking up and her temper roaring.

“There’s literally like three feet of metal between us and any exit or entrance to this house. Your being overly worried over stupid shi-”

“I’m not stupid.”

The sudden snap of her voice, the dip in tone and pleasantries made The brunette pause, vivid green eyes turning to look back at the narrowed red eyes that bored back at her. Surreal watched her coyly, a steady stare under long lashes as she took in the smaller girl, the careful tension in her body and the smooth way her breathing shifted just the slight bit as a shudder of something dangerous unfurled in the shadow of her eyes.

Such a nasty temper.

“Koy! Get your Girl! Before she goes feral, thanks.” Surreal drawlled, her  body already moving toward the door.

“I’m just staying. Nothing has happened in all our years, and it’s way more likely we will end up bored with a day off in our futures. Stop stressing, the demons won’t touch us, they’re not under your bed. We have nothing they want.”

Renu watched her leave as she huffed in irritation.

“Why did we invite them again?” She muttered as she turned back to her best friend and the only one she ever really cared about keeping by her side.

Koy Davis.

“Are you ready?”

--------------

“Okay, so i’m about to go ahead and set us up on live. Instagram or facebook?”

Vendetta Daniels shifted, the rocks under her tennis shoes scraping against the old wooden floors. She could not quite say the noise bothered her, rather it was comforting. It was a god send to know that there was no real easy way of moving about this place without making some sort of noise. That way there was no chances of a to sneak up on her. She could hear the chatters of the rest of the group as they approached the entrance that was behind Caven, Tex and herself now. Their laughter bubbling just up as the entered almost in a single file. The way through was small, not even a entrance, since the actual doors to this place were long over grown. No, what they were all trying to crawl into from was nothing more than a hole in one of the walls. There was a second where she just sat there, watching the bubbly girls as they took in the almost thirty year building in. Each of them showing a different range of emotions. Everything from astonishment to even a vague disgust.

But every single one of them began with practically same exact emotion as she always did. Awe.

“What time is it?”

“It’s 6:56. Four minutes to go.”

“Peyton. Blythe. We are in the middle of the forest, more than forty miles away from civilization. No one is coming out here. It’s fine.”

The words slipped out as slim fingers worked over the gopro attached to her head, adjusting the light before moving again restlessly. Her fingers fiddled over the glass of her screen, swiping through the lite up electronic until she got to exactly what it was she wanted.

“Facebook. We have more fans there.”

Her voice was sweet, low as she cooed the answer from petal pink lips. But those blue eyes never shifted from her own device, fingers moving agilely over the screen. Each motion with intent behind it. There was a second where the only thing she could do was stare at the girl. Caven Evans was exactly what you would have called the girl next door. Cute, cute enough to make Vendetta feel a pull deep in her gut to tease the girl. To see that lip pout as she looked her in the eyes, her own shining as tears brimmed. Just the thought of the sight of it pulled a wicked smile over her own mouth.  As cute as she was, she could also have you wrapped around her pinky finger in a heartbeat. Her eyes enough to bring a full grown man to his knees. More than enough to have Vendetta putty in Caven’s hands.

“Okay, that's fine… How old was this place again?”

“Thirty six years it's been abandoned.”

Her eyes flickered again, this time to the brown haired Tex, her own hands fumbling with the light that was attached to her forehead. Trying to tighten the elastic band that was keeping it in place. She much like Caven seemed slightly distracted, by little details that were surrounding them. But her violet eyes squinted as she moved, her own feet taking her further into the building little by little. And though Vendetta noticed it. The questions began to spill from her lips.

“What even was this to begin with?”

“A hospital. They didn’t even get the chance to take anything with them when they were all leaving. Only got minutes to grab their belongings and evacuate. From what i heard-”

“Wait! Wait! I need to turn live on, i’m sure they all want to hear this. Just remember. No names, no one gets to know where we are until we are home.”

There was a few seconds of pure silence, other girls from their group moving completely on without them. All disappearing further into the building to do their own explorations of the rotting building. Vendetta flipped through the apps on her phone until she got to the shared account between her and the girls, it took seconds for the red letters to flash across the screen, and a smile swept over her lips. Her hand came up in a greeting as she smiled toothily at the camera.

“Hey guys, this is Vendetta Daniels. And i’m here once again with the Caven Evans and Tex Falkov. Like promised we are out on the most dangerous night of the year. Liberatio… Now today, we won’t disclose the location until a later video. For safety reasons. Obviously.”

“Like i was saying, The place has been abandoned for thirty six years. And it is indeed a abandoned hospital. One that was evacuated. There’s not a whole lot more i can say without giving it away. So let’s head on in.”

“First i’d like to state that crawling my happy ass in here was not exactly how i imagined us starting off the night but it’s all gucci. The entirety of the building is closed off and this was the only entrance we could find.”

She swung around to face the small opening, the wallpaper that was steadily rotting off the wall almost covered it again, bending forward to cover their only escape out of the place as well as in. Shrubbery was already trying to sneak itself back into the building from where they had to pry them back.

The silence seemed to thicken the air for a second as the sirens rang of in the far distance. Signaling the beginning of Liberatio. A night that all the girls she had decided to go exploring with would be free from this year. There would be no monsters here, no blood or carnage that usually sits right outside their doors on this night. Instead they were miles away from any other living people. They were all safe.

“Release the beast.”

Her words were mumbled as she stood, her feet crunching with each step as she moved back towards the other two girls.

“So, we stay together for a little while and then split in the lobby?”

-------------

It never meant anything.

Saho had yet to be asleep. It was true, he had honestly gone to bed about twelve last night, early enough for the Dhouti Prince but late in comparison to the early nights that humans had. He had intended it to be just that, a night in his bed, alone,w here he could finally try and get the good nights sleep he had been promising himself. However, as it was, Insomnia was a terrible mistress, and one who have him no rest days and offered him no relief, no saving grace besides his own body's limits. Insomnia and him and been far too close for far too long, as he could still feel her limbs, her hands, her finger tracing over his skin, his mind. Insomnia was a terrible mistress, and god when she rode him... she rode him hard.

He had spent the night staring at the window of his room, at the night skies, feeling the power under his skin but having to retain it. There was a simmer there, just burning in his chest as he breathed in his anger and controlled his strength so that he might hold the muse of being human. He thought about his life, the human life that blended in with his mask that had somehow become something more then a part time costume. Saho had no qualms with what he was, who he really, truly was meant to be. He knew it was dark, twisted, filled with latent emotion and vicious violence. He was a beating, of great revision, a demon of renown. Saho was a monster beyond anything this world had ever seen, and he knew it. He held the power of worlds in his blood, the abilities to render mankind the saves they were. He was greed, possession, luxury and the high life. He was what everyone strived to be.  He got what he wanted because he held the power to do so.

He was a prince.

He was, at best, humanity, at it’s worst.

He played their games, bested them at every turn to remind himself that he was better.... He had risen to his power and took what he had wanted. He had walked over people and made more enemies than he could count…. He had done many things, more things than he really wanted to think about to get what he wanted. He had done something that he had disagreed with, had done many things as he had struggled and manipulated his way to the top.

But none of it had meant a thing. Not one instance of it did Saho ever doubt the thought that he was better than all those around him.

Until Vendetta Daniels.  

His downfall was a stupid one. Saho would have never guessed the great equalizer between him and the humans would have been this tiny, little, perfect slip of a girl, a fragile, perfect girl whose voice rang like a melody he never wished to forget. She was the only thing he had ever found that he had craved so desperately, his usual wants fleeting and superficial but this? This was something else, something that bordered on obsession.

Though about one million other people would agree with him.

That was the part that baffled him. Sure, He was rich, he was powerful, he was a man who had it all, but to Vendetta he was just another username in the followers list, and the fact she thought of him in the same group as the relentless hounds that went after her didn’t sit well in his stomach, kicking the anxiety that had decided to play in his gut into overdrive. It wasn’t like he couldn’t see why. Vendetta was cute, gorgeous really, with pretty red eyes and long tumbling white hair that fell over a body the gods had crafted just to be spiteful to the rest of mankind. funny and just that touch of sarcastic and aloof distance that had you craving more of her content. She was someone made to be followed, a leader, a true divine being. The brightness of the cell phone's screen didn’t hold her warmth, and he longed for the day he would feel the pretty pale skin against his hands, the day he would hear her breathe his name in between heated moans and feel her heartbeat beat in time with his.

Vendetta deserved to be worshiped. She deserved to be worshiped by him.

But she didn’t even know his name.

He had never even met the girl, but she plagued him, played on the hunter that dwelled in his chest, the predatory and aggressive beat that commanded he claimed what he wanted. The short of it was that Vendetta Daniels had been an accidental find on youtube one day, and her snarky, sarcastic personality had lulled him as he made to click away. He didn’t see her at first, only her blond friend whose name he hardly remembered, and the brunette that also couldn’t really remember the name for. Honestly he had been interested, as he had always had an odd fascination with ruins and abandoned things, and her commentary made the discoveries more enjoyable. He had already half fallen in love with her after watching a few of her videos, but it was only when he came across the videos that actually showed her face that Saho had finally came undone.

It had started off so simple. He had binged watch her videos as Insomnia claimed another of her week long reigns. He had watched as she wandered the abandoned building. It had been harmless, but slowly she had grown to plague him too, and so he decided to solve it the only way he really knew how; to deal with the lust bubbling in his veins.

Vendetta Daniels would be his, his next conquest. He didn’t often take challenges, not really caring about who it was he slept with so long as they followed his rules, but when he did, there was something in him, a monster that went beyond the blood and status that ran through him. He was relentless, never letting up, determined to get what he wanted. And saho always got what he wanted in the end.

His Echevarria, His Lee, Anyone who held his interest, when Saho decided that you were going to be his, he didn’t waver from his goal. He didn’t care how long it took, He would find a way to get what he wanted, would corner anyone with enough time. Saho was a hunter, and this? This was his favorite kind of prey.

The perfect angel that would never see it coming.

Saho felt it as his phone vibrated, the screen lighting up to signal a notification. He groaned slightly, sure it was another of his friends messaging him and telling him he should be coming out this Libertario with them. They had bribed him with alcohol and drugs and all the girls he could handle, but Saho didn’t hold any sorts of interests in the mayhem tonight could bring. Lazily, the dark haired boy  lifted his phone, tapping the screen to keep it lit as it took a moment for heterochromic eyes to settle against the blaring lights that were built behind his screen. He knew there should have been more excitement in his veins, but he felt nothing as he scanned over the words without really seeing them. He just wasn't feeling anything but Vendetta.

Vendetta Daniels  Is Now Live

There was a moment of stillness, before saho could feel it, the surge of something rising in his blood as he gasped.  He clicked it quickly, his lips pulling into a smile as he  waited a moment for the video to load.  He could feel that anticipation mingle with the dread in his blood, the hammering of his heart filling up the paces in his mind with quick harsh beats that made his skin warm and his eyes to burn. They had said something about being out tonight, on Liberatio, but he had thought they meant like they would run about their street or neighborhood for a bit, that the video would just end up being a vlog and he could stop worrying. He had been steadily trying to convince himself of this, to fight back that worry that had been clawing at him.

All hope of that died when the screen filled with the images of rotting wallpapers and a broken tile. His heart plummeting as he heard her start to spread, to fill those spaces with the honey of her voice because it was hard enough watching as she turned down the hall, where he saw nothing but familiar cracks and ragged rock.

She was in the old abandoned hospital. The meaning of the building had different translations based solely on whether or not you knew the real reasons for the sudden evacuation of an entire hospital. It was practically an urban legend for monsters, demons like him, and there she was, being careful not to say names and keep her location hidden.

But not from him.

“Oh Come on Ven…” He muttered into the silence of his room, his breath heady as he sighed his accented words into life. She was testing him. He had been fully sure to cancel any plans he might have had for this liberatio because he had wanted to listen to her, had wanted to see her…. He had intended, wholly, not to leave this bed tonight.

But She was less than fifty miles away from here and god she was calling him to her, a siren’s call that he could not help but answer.

Saho pushed up off his bed, His hand clutching his phone as he pushed himself into the darkness of his room. His body shifted, moving for a moment before it paraded he suddenly slipped forwarded, appearing right before his closet to pull out his leather jacket, his knife, all the things he would need on a hunt.

Mission. He corrected as he strapped in the blade, He was on a mission. Vendetta didn't know that she was being more than obvious about where she was to anyone with knowledge on monster legends, and so he was simply going to…. Protect her.

Yeah that sounded better.

Saho paused on his way out the door, his hand brushing over his smooth top dresser as he slowed his steps. Mismatched eyes took in the contents spread over it, to the little box that his fingers now rested on. He debated, turned the idea in his head. On one hand, he wasn’t calling it a hunt, so there was no need to do anything drastic. But wasn’t it always better to simply just…. Be prepared for any situation?

Saho Clenched his fingers, glaring at the box before he said fuck it and grabbed the contents of the box to throw it in his jacket pocket. He wouldn’t need them. He knew that…. But why not be prepared?

                                           -      Time Skip       -

It had taken a little longer then he had thought it would to get here.

His bike had been stashed somewhere about five miles away, and now  he was hiking through the woods on overgrown roads that used to lead straight to the hospital. He walked quietly, his eyes locking on the looming building as it appeared out of the gloom. His smile spread like the receding fog, his eyes bright as her voice drifted into his ears through the near invisible black headphones, ringing truth over him as he felt the growl building in his throat. The alarms sounded, distant, unheard by human ears, that signaled the beginning of the twenty four free hours he had.

“Release the beast.”

------------

He was nervous. If he could call himself anything it was that. He could practically hear his heartbeat drumming away in his chest. He could feel the low hum of his blood as it passed in his veins. His ears felt hot, his cheeks red from the cold wind that blew so gently over his exposed skin.

The house loomed over them ominously as the bells rang out across the town, signaling the beginning of a night he had wished it never had to come to. A night that he had hoped would never have to become a part as their reality. But sadly, here he was. Standing outside the quaint little house that Koy Davis’s parents owned, watching as the steel barriers  began to slide into place over the windows. He even watched as Koy’s father, who could really remember the boring bob’s name, closed the steel cage that protected the front door. Nothing fancy, just your every Liberatio precautions. Sure the metal could keep out the neighborhood kids looking to start trouble. Thick enough to stop bullets from penetrating the house. But it was not nearly strong enough to keep him or his out.

Not by any means.

Nothing was going to be able to keep him from getting into this specific house tonight. Not so long as Renu had found herself behind the confine. Much like every other person here by his side, they had someone that was just important enough to them to keep them invested. Rhoe moved to flick the burning cigarette from between his fingers, his foot moving out to crush the lite end. There was a second before he blew out the smoke, his eyes drifting to Grey. The man who could only stare, menacingly, at the home.

“Is it just Thorn inside by himself?”

“Nah, you know fucking Rigger is attached to his fucking ass.”

Grey dragged in another bout of his cigarette never really flashing those oil slick eyes away from the building. He was wholly concentrated, wholly devoted to his thoughts on the  nights plans. Something, that Rhoe had been imagining, dreaming, vapidly obsessing over for the past couple of weeks right along side his companions. The cluster of boys seemed to shift around them, all of them waiting for the signals to begin. Waiting patiently for their opportunities.

All he could think about was the black haired beauty that haunted even his waking hours, dream after dream of their meeting. Of her words that meant little to nothing to her, but the entire world to him.

“Hey do you mind passing me two of those beers?”

Her voice had captured him first. His interest peaking at the accent that seemed to punctuate each new word that spilled from behind lips that were just as easily captivating. Music seethed and roared, filling the huge house that had been around them, but even with those few notes that he had heard from her, there was already a need crawling through his veins. Creeping along ever so slowly to set something a blaze in him. He just wanted to hear her speak again. He wanted to hear the almost melodic undertones of her voice as she graced him with just pure existing in his general vicinity. He wanted to watch that pretty mouth of hers part, he wanted to watch as her lips move to form words meant just for his ears. Rhoe was already a man captured by a girl he had barely even just met. And if he was going to be flat honest here, he didn’t mind so much, not in this moment.

His lips parted, a small chuckle passing his own lips as he let her words actually sink into him. She was witty. A knack that had always got him caught up in some sort of trouble when it came to girls. One that he seemed to have a little bit too much of an appeal for. And she was quick, she was quick to set some sort of rapture in his chest. That  slow burn turning quickly into an inferno that he could feel  setting little sparks off in every direction in him. His hands move, one finding home in his jacket pocket the other finding its way to his jaw, rubbing along the skin before his thumb found his bottom lip. His smile wavered in thought for a second as he watched her eyes darken, almost as unmoving as his own. Endless channels that he only ever wanted to fall straight into as he watched them.

Fuck.

The girl hadn’t said more than fifteen words to him. Couldn't have. And there was a hint of frustration that spiked through his spine as he realized that he would have to actually say something in order for her to speak back to him. And that seemed to be a much bigger problem than he ever anticipated.  

He could feel the stares, although he never looked up from this girl. He could hear the breathing of the crowd, the air moving through lungs like the rush of a freight train. He heard blood ebbing, flowing in veins, beckoning, a sweet seductress, teasing his senses until his craving was an obsession, dark and relentless. He didn’t want to hear them, he didn’t want any of them to exist around them in this moment. But he tried his best to brush that feeling off his shoulders. It wasn’t normal and it wasn’t something he often felt about anybody and he damned sure wasn’t looking to get attached to anyone.

They whispered. Hundreds of conversations. Secrets. Pickup lines. The things whispered in bars under the cover of music. He heard every word clearly as he opened his mouth to give her some sort of answer rather than standing there with his mouth agape. He heard the whispers of women as they discussed him. Rhoe. Lead quarterback and the only guy that most hadn’t even begun to really get to know. They wanted to bed him for all the wrong reasons, and he wanted them for reasons that would have terrified them.

Reasons why even the girl in front of him was not excluded out of. And he was not about to take her out of the running either.

“I’m at your full disposal.”

The words had slipped from his lips with a quirky half cocked grin. His eyes sliding from her only momentarily, moving over the little brown glasses by his side.

She could rob a man of his sanity

He could smell her now, a clean, fresh fragrance suggesting the outdoors, the rain forest after a cleansing downpour. A hint of exotic flowers, and something else-something wild. Something not quite human. Rhoe felt his muscles tense at the unfamiliar scent, a strange quickening, a heat spreading throughout his body, but he held himself under control.

But here was only one clear thought that flew through his head then and even now as the sirens rang off in the background.

Renu was his. And nothing was going to change that. Tonight was the beginning of their life together, even if he had to drag her into it kicking and screaming.

“Okay, we all know the plan?”

“Well, i would have hoped after the sixteenth time you repeated it we would have caught on.”

Deadly green eyes flashed toward the DelaRosa. Rhoe’s limit for fucking around already at its peak for the night.

---------------------

It was never as scary as people liked to think. That was not to say that this place was not terrifying on it own. No it had almost every dynamic to be the very definition of horror movie aesthetic.

The entirety of the building was rotting, the entirety of the structure creaked and moaned with each step that the girls took. But other than the sound of them it was almost silent. Even the other girls had dipped far enough away from them that she couldn’t make out any distinguishable sounds from them. Nothing. Which would have been concerning, if she didn’t know exactly who it was that she had brought with her.

Vendetta let red eyes shift restly over the cracked walls and broken glass that littered what she could only assume was the main hallway that would take them to the lobby. It was a long hall with what seemed like no end in sight, door after door they passed, all three of them in total agreement that they would wouldn’t truly start exploring until they had reached their first destination. Where any and all actual exploration would begin. Their time becoming their owns with each one of their own fan base. All while staying relatively in ear shot of the other. Or at least in walkie talkie range. They were not about to chance leaving anybody behind or even being lost to a building that had such scary stories behind it.

“How much further is it?”

Her voice rang through the hall, raw and echoing, bouncing off the walls. All it did was serve as the reason the chills were beginning to crawl their ways through her blood. The very reason she could feel her blood turning to ice in her veins. But Tex didn’t seem to notice, her eyes still crawling over the old map that she had just happened upon through a email. Nothing weird about that. But whatever, point was exploring this place alone seemed to be probably the dumbest decision she could have possibly came up with. But there was not a single way she was backing out of this now. They had come way too far and plus she was already on live. Was she really about to disappoint fans? Or embarrass herself by wimping out too early? Hell no. She was Vendetta Daniels, the girl was known for her abilities to stay stable under pressure.

“It shouldn’t be much further to be honest. We have to turn down one more hall first.”

As much as Vendetta liked to play s the capable badass bitch, she was not. Sure, these places were terrifying. And really she loved doing them. Would never give  up the career. But who sat in there homes on what happened a boring tuesday evening and decide to go on a fucking the most dangerous night of the month and have a little party in a really creepy, super sick hospital. Fucking crazy people. And who decides to do it as a dare? Well… Apparently Tex did so can’t say much to that. Caven was not exactly against the ideal, considering that the second the idea had passed Tex’s lips she seemed to spark up. Vendetta was not being the only one to go against something that everyone seemed pretty adamant on.

Earth and debris shifted under each step, the crunch of glass growing ever more familiar as they passed by broken windows and shattered doors. She could hear little creatures shifting in their presence, hear the old creaks of piping that was steadily decaying. And sure, there were little things that peaked her interest. There were things that she stopped to show. Stopping almost multiple occasions to stop and lift up the small papers or objects she found littering the halls. Her fingers rubbed over the grim covered covering of a medical record. Giving a few good shots of the papers that still filled the binder, before setting it back down to move on again. Nothing really caught her eyes for more than a couple seconds at a time.

At least until she walked into the lobby.

The world seemed to go stark quiet around the three girls as they entered the side entrance to the main lobby. The whole thing looked like it came straight out of a early eighteenth century horror movie. The center of the entire room a huge what had to be at least twelve foot tall statue, vines and rot crawling its way over the wet stone. Above it the night sky loomed, bright stars dotting the sky, only visible thanks to the lapsed ceiling.

Vendetta moved, pulling her camcord off the clip on the back pack. There was no way she was going to miss a shot like this. There was silence as the others seemed to follow the same logic as her, beginning their own little routines to catch a living memory of this moment. The water dripped lazily from the broken edges of wood, serving to hit the statue below with a soft pap.

“This place is the literal definition of both terrifying and exciting all at the same time.”

Seconds passed after she spoke, silence her only reply.  

---------------------

It had been the TV that had tipped her off to the beginning of the Holiday of dread.

Koy’s house didn’t have the thick walls that blocked out the noise of the streets that the premium package of Liberatio protection offered. But she had been paying attention more to the curve of Koy’s cheek as her smile spilled over her pretty pink lips, watched her eyes light up as she talked about the games she was playing and the plot of some show or other that Renu herself would never understand, but loved to see the joy it brought to her friend. She hadn’t heard the alarms as they blared, too busy staring at her pretty little Davis to Hear the words float along the now barren streets.

But she couldn’t ignore it as it blared through the house, a high pitch shrill that sent shiver down her spine as she gasped in surprise. Koy’s father like to have the TV set on high during Liberatio, mostly due in part to the fact that it was far easier to hear anything that might be important of it was playing just a few feet away from you. The alarm rang out like the toll of death’s bell, and she felt her lungs freeze as her breath caught in her throat. Her hands found solace in the only place she really knew comfort, Koy

This was it.

Liberatio had begun.

Did Renu really think that something drastic and violent and messy was going to happen tonight? Well, the possibly was always there but honestly the chances of it actually happening were astronomically low. As much as she really hated to admit it, Surreal was right in the fact more than likely, tonight was going to pass with her stress levels through the roof and a twenty four hour nap afterwards because her emotions had run her body ragged. Really, Renu didn’t think the world was going to change drastically overnight and she knew monsters tended to go after people who had wronged them or were dumb enough to go out at night and test fate.  If anything she more thought that maybe some neighborhood monster boys would think it funny to terrorize the neighborhood, something that she assumed most monsters did when they were too young to understand the bloodlust in their veins. Her only real concern really was if some idiots would take things too far and try and scare more than they were willing to give out of the group. That was a frighteningly high possibility, if the rumors around school were anything to base off of, the whispers of violent threats and heinous crime that only furthered her belief that monsters were incapable of emotions. She knew she was making herself more stressed out then she needed to be, so she took a breath, inhaling the icy air as she closed her hand around Koy’s.

“Well, At least It’s Finally started…. No more waiting.”

There was a moment of silence, as Renu turned toward Koy to take her in. She smiled slightly, her lips quirking as she lifted her free hand to brush away the flyaway strands of hair that crossed over her features.

She could hear the rest of the guests in other rooms, most moving this way as she heard footfalls and voices getting louder in the entrance hallway to the den. The alarms didn’t just signal the start of the death dealing holiday, but it seemed it was as well the warning bells to the end of her solitude with Koy. She felt a bubble of resentment bubble up at that, but she pushed it away as she heard the handle creak, before a metal jingle rangt out, the den door stuck again. There was a moment, before the was silence, and a loud thump as she watched the blond haired boy tumble in, followed soon after by a pretty little blond with wide and almost innocent eyes.

“Talos, You going to break the door.”

The blond haired boy turned to Renu, and she watched as a look of mock appall crossed over his features like melting butter. His eyes went wide, a pretty dark wood brown that burned with an ember that never seemed to fade. There was a heady look to his eyes, something flirtatious he could not shake, and he added a little gasp to make the act all the more dramatic.

“I would never!”

“You broke mine just last week.”

Korin’s voice was high, a chime of silver in breathy winds as she piped up and stopped Talos in his tracks. The look was shifted from the Red eyes girl back to his best friend and supposed partner in crime, Korin Masters. Korin simply looked up at him, her hands placed together primarily as Talos gaped at her for a moment. There was a sigh before he huffed, crossing his arms a little.

“You're supposed to be on my side.”

“So The wrong side?”

“Tratorious little bitch.”

There was a giggle as Korin just watched him, and It was actually sort of amazing to watch the irritation slide of his features the longer he looked at the little blond. Talos was nowhere near what anyone would call the calm sort, a hyper bundle of nerves and instinct that had him in the office at school just as often as he was in detention. He was quick tempered and energetic, a bad combination when you counted in his mental and physical stamina.  He was more than willing to throw the first punch so long as he also had the last, something he was sure to make sure of. There were few people that actually wanted to cross him, and while his reputation was more than earned, there seemed to be a more dormant soft side to him that only his forever best friend, korin. As it stook, Only Korin was able to get away with teasing or pushing Talos around, and it was because she had this boy so completely wrapped around her finger.

Much like the rest of the school.

Renu really wasn’t sure how Korin had found her way here, considering she was just about one of the most popular girls in school. Korin was…. Infamous, really, the school slut who didn’t seem to care what anyone had to say about the matter. She was wholly relaxed, dismissive of the hate that seemed to circle around her endlessly. The rumors never seemed to really affect her popularity however, as she was still one of the most sought after girls in the school. Especially compared to her and Koy, who people barely paid attention to them and hardly realized they were there. Renu wasn’t exactly well liked. She was more abrasive than anything else, and she seemed to always have something to prove. She wasn’t exactly the kind the wished for party invites and boyfriends, but it wasn’t hard to see the very distinct line between their world and hers. Korin didn’t live on the fringes like she did, Korin was the star of the show, the life of the party.

How did she end up here?

Oh yeah…. Koy couldn’t stop herself from over talking.

Even now, she felt it as the brunette by her side moved, her body shifting as she drew in a happy breath. Renu let her hand go and allowed her to move, flutter over to them to speak in quick and happy tones. Koy was a sweet girl, with pretty brunette hair that tumbled down her back in waves, her eyes a dark ocean blue that shimmered with more life than a thousand galaxies. Koy was pretty enough to be popular, but Renu was no fool that Renu herself was a massive deterrent to talking to the girl, and Koy didn’t do so well when it came down to deeper connections with people, the girl social but unable to make the friends she should have had, but Koy never seemed to notice, instead turning those thick lashed eyes toward her, her lips pulling into that innocent smile Renu would die to protect.

Renu moved her hands, feeling along the fabric of her clothing as she reached behind her. She felt the cool sting of metal, a comfort that she kept hidden from the rest.

“So what should we do now? We have twenty four hours to kill.”

She hummed lightly under her breath as she stood up from the couch, her hands restless and awkward, shifting positions until she settled them across her chest. There was a wicked gleam in Talos’s eye as he turned dark brown toward the smaller girl, and Renu felt her lips pull at the sight, her hands squeezing on her biceps.

That look never boded well.

-------------------

The tiny vibration of his cell phone radiated through his entire body, his entire being flinching as it purred loudly against the cold metal of the car. The small jingle captured his attention entirely as he shifted to place the newly lit cigarette between his lips. Tanned fingers pulled the sleek black electronic from his back pocket to hold up the brightly lit screen. His eyes flashed over the words that were planted across his screen in big bod italics.

Text from Rigger:

                               When do you want us to cut everything?

This was utterly terrifying to him, his heart dropping in his chest. But he tried to stay calm. She deserved it, she deserved him on top of his game. She deserved the very best parts of him and being a coward in the moments that mattered seemed a little bit unproductive. He was here. He was here for Renu. He was not leaving without her in his hands tonight.

She deserved to know about the fire she had lit under his skin, she needed to know the depth of gratitude he felt towards her. His body alive for the first time in his life and it was all thanks to her touch. And her touch alone.

Rhoe shifted, his elbow coming to make contact with Grey’s upper arm only to grab the dragon's attention. There was a moment where he could see the brief irritation cross over his features, a huff passing past his lips as the smoke poured into the brisk autumn air around them. It did nothing to deter Rhoe, all to used to the attitude that his asshole of a best friend seemed to always carry as a second skin. He just shifted, pulling the phone up so that Grey could lean in take the words in for himself.  Rhoe watched as those eyes moved over the screen, the expression crossing his face only causing Rhoe's own lips to pull. This was not like Grey, not his Grey at least. You could read the stress that was etched into his expression as he pulled away. See the subtle hesitation that was built up his chest as he pressed his thumb and forefinger to his eyes trying to rub away some sort of anxiety.

Grey was not himself right now. He wasn’t what he thought he would have been on a night that he had decided to take his girl. Like the rest of them, by force if pushed. He was supposed to be the one that was riled up, rowdy in his game that he knew was about to unfurl right in front of them. Instead it seemed that every single one of the men around him seemed on edge, like the excitement had died down when the seriousness of the situation had actually planted itself on their shoulders.

“Just tell them not yet. It’s too soon... ”

As the words spilled into the quiet air, Rhoes fingers were already working over the keyboard on his phone, writing the words to a t before sending it. Honestly, it was surprising that out of all the men that were here, besides Ozera and Bridger that was that Grey was the most sound of mind between them. It was surprising only in the sense that he knew the man, had known him early into their childhood. They had sworn each other brothers if not by blood, and this was the most,... calm he had ever seen the man on a stressful situation. Considering we are talking about a man who would literally knock a person's teeth in for mispronouncing his name. Rhoe would know, he’d seen it with his own two eyes.

But there were people here that he would have assumed would have been a lot calmer than Grey, including himself. Rigger was definitely a top competitor in this, but considering he was the one actually in the house waiting for opportunity to tear the fuse box to shreds, Rhoe would not say he was the man that could really take too much more either.

“Are we giving them some sort of choice in the matter? Why wait?”

Bridger’s voice rang through the open air and cold eyes shifted to the smaller boy. He was moving restlessly, prancing basically from foot to foot as he rubbed warm hands over his jean jacket. Brown eyes never leaving what looked like a solidly protected home. But they all knew the truth. The barrier would do nothing against all of them .

“We have to at least give them the opportunity to hand themselves over.”

“That's fucking retarded. And you fucking know it. They would have already if they were ever intending to begin with.”

Bridger never moved, his eyes never coming away from the home. Anger a clear expression over his features, his eyebrows were pulled in concentration as he avoided each and every single gaze that was now turning into his direction.

“We are giving them the option first. There are other people besides you Bridger.”

Rhoe repeated, letting the words slide out just that bit more stern. He was not going to ruin what little chance he might of had of getting Renu as easily as possible because someone was butt hurt. She deserved the attention he was spilling into the plan. She deserved every little ounce of respect that he was trying to reserve strictly for the red eyed girl who had stolen his heart so wholly. And it was not going to waste, his attempt to win her love fairly was not going to waste over something so trivial as scorn lovers.

“Well,... Let’s get started then. We got twenty four hours to make them swoon.”

Xion pushed out of the car seat he had been sitting in, slamming the door behind him. Once again a clear sort of hesitation over even his expression, but he was moving. Right past Rhoe and Grey, and heading up the small little concrete blocks that made a cute little path to the front door. His movements were slow, his body moved with the grace of a predator, his fingers moving to press deeper into his pockets. And Rhoe was right behind him, his arms coming up for a moment before slapping back against his thighs.

“Game time boys.”

By the time he reached the small path, he could hear the metal screeching behind him. The scene he turned to would have impressed almost anybody here, if they had not all known Xion as capable. Rhoe could see his fingers straining against the heavy metal, but it was bending. Warping the dent out towards them slower and slower. There was no noise from the inside of the house that he could quiet make out yet. Instead it seemed almost stark quiet. Something that was suspicious on itself. But Xion continued until the heavy metal was away from the front door. Thrown haphazardly across the front lawn.

There was a second where Rhoe could only smile as Xion turned back to the boy, his own eyebrows lifted in expectation, his hands moving in a welcoming gesture to the lighter boy.

“After you big shot.”

Rhoe bowed slightly, his hand coming across his stomach before straightening to come to the front door, once again the unease set in his system. But he tried for all the world to seem unphased, to seem calmer than he really was. His hand came up, knuckles first to knock rapidly on the wooden door that sat between them and their girls now.

-----------------------------

There’s a moment, there and gone in an instant that he wondered what she would feel like. He freezes as his hands flutter along his arms to straighten the suit jacket that decorated his body. He gets lost for a moment, his mind racing off before the thought to stop it even crossed his thoughts. She flashed in his mind, his heart beat snapping in his chest as he thinks about how her heart might hammer slightly in time with his own, how, as he lifted the screen of his phone up slightly to see the video on her channel walk easily over broken glass and rotten papers, all trash, things he rather her pay attention to and he hoped was all she would find in her little quest here.

There were secrets, in those walls. Secrets he had to protect her from.

His gaze swept over the ruined walls of the hospital around him, his gaze snapping to the art that had long since fallen to the ground and the glass that had sattered against the tile. Everything was in ruin, everything was spilled over the floor even in the part of the building he was in. His mind never really registered it all, his ears strained to listen for the voice he so long to finally hear in person. He’s Locked in a  fantasy he can not, will not escape. Her pale skin in calling him, her pretty red eyes and long flowing white hair that would collect dirt and grime and moss as she made her way through this maze of a  building. His mind raced with a thousand different images, a hundred different ways his meeting with her could go. It wasn’t like him to imagine anything, Saho more of a  doer than anything else, but Saho had been found lost in thought as the pretty albino girl passed his mind

The truth of it was. Saho was nervous.

The words were almost bitter to swallow. Saho didn’t do nerves. He wasn’t the kind of guy who really cared what others thought of him, so really, he did what he wanted, when he wanted and dealt with the ramifications and consequences along the way. But this wasn’t just some hot girl across the room or some pretty but replaceable girl from the suburbs looking to rebel against daddy.

This was Vendetta Fucking Daniels. This was more than a casual hook up, more than just a girl or booze, or drugs that made his heart sore and his mind fade from existence with only a flash of what was real, a sliver of solid ground. This would be his first time meeting her, the first time she would even be aware of his existence, and he didn’t want to make too horrible an impression. Thus why he had taken the time to go back to his apartment and change into a suit.

A suit was important for first impression. You always had to look your best when you had an important event.

And Crossing Vendetta off his Fuck list we definitely something he wanted to celebrant and commemorate with his best step forward

But what if he fucked it up?

The thought was enough to stop him in his tracks.His hands froze on his jacket, his body stilling before he ran an uneasy hand through his hair, a motion that brought him comfort when used to sneak into his parents room as a child and force them to lull him back to sleep.

Fucking this up was not an option. It never would be. He didn’t have the option of fucking this up, because one wrong slip up and everything he had ever dreamed about having or doing to Vendetta could go straight of the window.  He couldn't accept that, not when he had been pining for her so long, not when he had been all but praying every night to finally just get a taste of her.

He was through Praying for what he could just take.

Saho moved along the floor, the slightly wet dewy substance splattering on his actually polished boot, griming them up again but really, Saho found it very hard to care in the moment as he heard her footsteps, soft, hesitate, a true explorer as she made her way over the unsafe flooring, the cracked tiles and the shifts in the concrete as it almost gave way to the hallways that layered beneath them. Saho moved, his head tilting as his hand moved to rest against the cracked pillars, the walls falling apart. He could feel it , the magic under his skin pulse as the shadows abut his feet shifted, struggled and pulled as the fell over his skin, making tanned skin almost ink black and his body almost as light as air. He shifted, nothing tangible but inexplicably it never stopped him from being able to see, to follow her where the moons rays would not touch his skin. Her footfalls echoed louder as he moved, and finally, saho watched as the creaking door opened.

And in walked perfection.

It was her. There was a sound in his head like the whir of a blade as he felt something in his life change the moment she passed through those doors. There was a gasp from him, his body tensing and hair bristling as he watched her, the uneven thump of his head making his chest hurt and feel like there was a  sun right where his heart should have been. Saho’s heart stopped in his chest and he nearly lost control on the magic in his veins, his eyes widening as he watched as Vendetta walked into the room. It was one thing to have her on a screen, talking to him and twenty thousand other people at any given time, but now she was here, she was real, nota  video, not a code or a program, but really, truly, flesh and blood. And she was even more amazing then he had even originally thought. There was no doubt about that. Vendetta was distinct, one of a kind, and it was more than long white hair, and burning eyes. Vendetta had a movement about her,  a way she liked to shift and move that Saho had long since memorized. She walked like she knew what she was doing even when she didn’t, all confidence and pretty features that worked as a double threat to take him out. He had been expecting to be knocked off his feet when he saw her, had been expecting to find her more beautiful then he had thought.

He hadn’t been prepared to be assaulted by her very presence.

There was no denying how gorgeous Vendetta was. Her had long had a fascination with her odd correlations and had fantasized what it would be like to brush fingers through all the length of her hair what it would feel like to have this erede yes on him. He had fantasized about it, claimed the fantasies as his own and refused to let any of his friends harber any remote feeling of lust for the woman he had claimed. He had expected a certain amount of beauty, but the sight of her left him breathless, locked chains on his wrists,his ankles, his throat as he struggled to find the breath she had stolen from him. She was a tiny little thing, manly instinct to protect her rising in his blood like liquid flames. She was made of soft curves and beautiful to the core, body that had to be crafted by the devil himself, because nothing so good could have come from a prude like God. God did not touch on perfection in the mortal realm, but here, In the human's domain the devil ruled, and he had blessed Saho with the most beautiful destruction he had ever seen.

And then her scent hit him.

Everyone who knew the Dhouti’s knew about their particular thing for the scent of others. They had many quirks about them, his family, but a sit was, the whole of them seemed to agree that with all their enhanced senses, smell was the one they relied on the most. Most people smelled of rotten sweet and lingering sower human musk, but her? There wasn’t words for the scent she had and the effect it had on him. Her scent was bright, clean almost, something that reminded him of gentle laps of waves along the side of his Grandma’s boat. It was bright, like a windy Harbor day, and he found himself breathing in, inhaling as he parted his lips so he might gain a taste of her.

It wasn’t enough, never enough. It would never be enough of her because he knew, he knew that in this moment his whole life had changed.

And no one notice him or the astronomical event. Vendetta Daniels was here, live, in the flesh, and he had never been more ecstatic.

“This place is the literal definition of both terrifying and exciting all at the same time.”

Her voice bounced off the collapsed ceiling rock sand the walls still left behind., It vibrated in his skull, refusing to leave as he felt her words trace a line down his body, a bolt of heat surging through his body to nestle in his gut as a slow burn ache. Saho couldn’t help but close his eyes, his hand moving to that he could place his fingers over his heart, eyes closing as he listened to the rock steady thump that fluttered under a nervous quick bet. Blood roared in his ears as he moved, closer, closer, closer behind her, until he was directly behind her and could only smell her, see her, hear her, her heartbeat falling, racing beating in a mismatched step to his.

His hand was moving before he could top it, fingers tracing along her hair as he ran his fingers through a few strands, allowing the sink of her hair fall through his fingers.

“What was that?”

Vendetta snapped around, feeling the back of her head as she turned around to face nothing. Here yes went from wide to simply confused, before she appeared to come up with some excuse in her mind as to what it was.

Saho’s heart skipped as she nearly touched him, her face just inches from him as the shadows worked to keep him hidden from all in the human realms. If he wanted to, he could just reach out and take her, could just expose himself and pull her into his arms like he wanted to. She was just so close, and from this distance he could see the light pattern of freckles over her cheeks that made his gut flash with fire and his  cock to twitch painfully.

Why did she have to be so goddamn cute?

“Thought I felts something… Probably a vine.”

At her words, Saho moved, stepping around her slightly so he could take her fully in. He let his eyes roam, his hand coming up as his eyes started to shift, his form going just that slight bit darker. He had twenty four hours to win her over.

Why not have a little fun first?

The girls were splitting up, which actually served Saho fairly well. He rose his eyebrows, not that any of them could see him as he gave his look of curiosity as they spoke of splitting up, which only left more opportunities to allow Saho to be alone with her. Which was exactly what he wanted.

Vendetta chose the notorious M block, the one wing known to have the worst of the of the urban legends that circled around this place, lores and legends she had no way of knowing without having a monster insider, something he was fairly sure she didn’t have or she would have never come her in the first place.

She started down the hall, her voice soothing as saho followed, slowly, softly behind her. He watched her for a moment as he fell into her groove, her element completely around her, allowing her to shine like he had never seen. It was one thing to see her on camera, on the other end, but in person, Vendetta seemed to just bloom under the spotlight.

How appropriate that she had stolen the spotlight of his attention. He would shower her with anythings he would desire, attention, adventure….

He’d hand her the word if she asked him to.

‘Just a little scared… Oh I bet she’ll be so adorable terrified…’

Saho’s heart skipped at the thought, his smile spreading over his lips as his hand lifted to cover the lower half of his face. The thought of it was enough to bring a flush to his cheeks, and the Older man bit his lip as he tried to call the racing, fluttering heart at the very image in his head. He felt it, the yearning that burned in his gut, his chest, his bones.

His hand lifted, a heavy moment before he flicked his wrist, watching as a door slammed violently right as Vendetta was trying to pass. There was a second before he shifted, sliding away from her reluctantly so that she might feel him as he felt his skin shift under his clothes, the real monster in him begging to come out and play with the pretty little prey.

This was something that Carson had always known. Humans were, by nature, self absorbed creatures, creatures that relied on the ‘every man for himself’ as a law of nature. They were absorbed in themselves, wholeheartedly selfish, a key trait that had played a large part of monsters, beings of power and fame, going unnoticed for millennia, living among them right under their noses. It wasn’t anything they could help, an inherent flaw in them as a race, but it made things sort of interesting, fascinating to watch unfold, creatures so oblivious they walk straight into a hunter’s trap.

Tonight was the night. Tonight was the night that everything changed, and Carson watched in amusement and a curious fascination as the people filed into one of his many homes, thier bodys shivering from the snows icy touches, winter not yet here but just around the corner, the nip in the air a gentle reminder of it’s presence. He watched as they huddles around each other, the fire, for warmth and smiles, alcohol long since finding it’s way into the hands of needy teens who wished to let loose and rebel just that tiny bit. It was curious that they could not feel what was looming, be it winters turn in just a few weeks, judging by the amount of skin showing, most girls had blatantly ignored the chill, or be it the dark looming shift in the air. Tonight was the night that everything would change, and not a single one of them batted an eye at enter his mountain home.

Could they not feel it? Could they not feel the energy, the touch of the unknown just beyond their realm of sight. Carson felt it like a lover’s hands, the brush of fingertips along his spine, little shivers of pleasure accompanied by a nearly silent purr, deep rumbles in his gut that expressed his pleasure. He could feel change as she brushed feather light lips over the back of his neck, lingering in the air to create a hum of energy under the voices beginning to gather, a spice that he could almost taste on a heavy tongue. It was amazing they could not, all smiles and relaxation as anxiety licked along his spine, his hands gripping the banister so that he might have some hold, his thoughts racing and lifting, slipping past his mind’s fingers  like ribbons of smoke in the cold. He could feel her as if her hand was on his spine, and they felt nothing at all.

It was no wonder they were on the path to extinction. They never noticed anything that wasn’t  told to them.

There were a few exceptions, of course, a few humans Carson had noted that didn’t seem to fit the social norm that humans had created. Those favored few, They were observant, maybe not as  much so as a monster might be but significantly more than a normal human. They Weren't dull, vapid, boring, they were interesting and coy and while they did not recognize him and his brothers for what they were, they had seen past layers carson hadn’t even known were there.

Carson’s gaze flicked back to the growing pond of people at the foot of his stairs, a make shift sort of dancefloor made in the center of his foyer, as he heard the sounds of laughter, screams and enjoyment as the people found all the party favors he had set up, as any true host would. Beer, hard liquor, food by the tons  and endless music and wood to ward off the chill, Carson had left nothing up to chance. The night had settled in, the sun not quite gone but setting, streaking the  sky thousands of colors, lighting up the forest that was surrounded by his family's walls, beautiful, but Carson’s eyes skimmed over it, watching the door intently, with a purpose flashing in dark and light   mismatched eyes.

He breathed in, taking in the music that was pouring from the speakers, the spice of alcohol he had provided creating a slightly sensual and exotic tang in the air, a night for bonfires that burned brightly in the fire pits that had been douge into the  earth in front and behind his house, for secrets, lust and need. This energy was alive, a beating in it’s own right, infecting them all with that slow dreamy sort of haze that burned them, slowly, inch by inch, every moment another blaze and he could feel it....Every lick of need another hit to his veins. Carson wanted to burn, and He wanted to burn slowly.

Every inch of him ached for  it, the layer of need this night had created, and his gaze moved, taking in body after body after body, searching, hoping waiting….

For her.

“Have you seen them Abram? They said they would come, right?” Carson’s voice was low, a purr of unease now in his chest as he searched the people in his home. He allowed his eyes to move, flickering over to his best friend and practical brother.

“Why aren’t they here…. They said they were coming.” his impatience was starting to color his tone. His body tensing as he allowed his anxiety to take over, and he clenched harder at the wood railing, fingers tapping as he foot lifted to tap his toes against the floor, all signs of the ball of nerves that was plaguing him.

He just had to see her….

--------

Honestly, nothing should have been as difficult as opening the front door to this house.

It was just a house. Just like any other…. Alright. Maybe it was a little more extravagant. But wasn’t that even more reason to want to go in?

The sigh that parted her lips was long, exasperated as the others gathered around her. Their words hardly reaching her ears. But she could hear the music already thrumming, hear the low hum of laughter and conversations she was better left out of. The smell of liquor and weed hung thickly in the air, a tell tale sign of a Dhouti party. A party that no one in their right minds would miss. Not when people were clamoring to make the Dhouti boys happy.  Clamoring to get a minute in the lime light, even if that meant just hanging in the shadows beside them. Watching and hovering in the masses that followed after them.

But that wasn’t Requiem. And hell would freeze over before it saw the day of her begging for any Dhouti attention.

So, why was she here?

Right now, she should have been scurrying to rush into the home, into the warmth. Should have been striving to get the icy burn out of the tips of her fingers. She knew that they were pink, knew that her nose and cheeks would match. But she could not find the motivation to press forward and open the door. Instead she stared for a minute, watching the shadows move behind the glass.

“Requiem?”

The voice was soft, pushing in the tone, but it was enough. Enough for the darkling to lift a single eyebrow, grey eyes flicking to the brown haired beauty at her side, those royal violet eyes almost smoldering as they rested on her.

She shouldn’t be throwing attitude to her only companion, the only other person who didn’t seem too interested in being here either. The only other person who had just as much anxiety rolling off her. But still she did. Still, she could feel her nose scrunching up. She could feel her eyes rolling as she flicked those grey eyes back to the door, all pretty stained glass and stained wood.

“Ashlin.”

She knew why, the second the her name passed her lips. She knew that it was only because Ashlin knew. Ashline always knew. She could feel Requiems anxiety just as easily as Ashlin could feel hers. It was a comfort to know she wasn’t the only one. But never the less, there were others with them. Ones who only ever got to see this side of her. Ones who would judge her.

“Are you fucking kidding me Requiem. Open the fucking door you fucking ingrate.”

Those eyes snapped back to the blonde that was all snapping teeth and snarled tone. Her own expression irritated and she moved to cross those arms across her chest and she only looked all the more pissed. It was a second, it couldn’t have been more than that  before Menzy was moving pushing her way through the small crowd of girls, pushing aside the ones who didn’t move.

“Hard of hearing now too, princess?”

Menzy moved, her own fingers pressing down the lock on the door to release it, where the warmth of the house began to flood out. Almost no one noticed, their attention to thwarted by the awe in the house or too engrossed in each other or their drinks too notice. Grey eyes paused on the emeralds that were staring Requiem down, and what did she do? The only thing she could think of to do as an acceptable reply.

She shrugged.

“Jesus.”

And that was it, Menzy moved on, pressing forward and disappearing into the house. IT wasn’t a weird case for her to act this way. The attitude, the pushiness. None of it was out of character for Menzy. But, the word ‘princess’ rarely came out of those lips. Her insults generally pointing at her ‘carelessness’.

“Where’s Ankou?”

“She’s already here. Probably off with Echo, let’s be real.”

“That explains that.”

-------

“Shhh. Shhh,shshshshsh.”

His arm dropped his arm loosely across the shoulders of his taller Alpha, his other arm coming up to cross Carsons chest just to come up to caress the clearly unamused darklings neck, his thumb brushing across the fine jawline. He let his eyes lock onto that multi colored gaze, his own lashes fluttering in an obvious display of his affections.

“I’m here now my love. There is no more need to fret.”

“You literally just walked in… and you already have everybody staring Echo.”

“Let them look. To miss it would be tragic.”

Echo let his eyelashes flutter against, his hand only coming off when Carson put a gentle hand over Echo’s, his fingers prying lightly at the fingertips. He was bothered. Obviously. Something was wrong, the tension in the tall darkling almost spilling off of him in waves.

“What’s wrong Carson? The girlies giving you trouble again? Want me to beat them up for you?”

A small chuckle passed the blonde's lips, his arms dropping to his sides just to find warmth in the depth of his pockets.

He would be lying to say that seeing the expression on Carson’s face didn’t bother him. The only solace he could take was Abram taking his place next to the boy, his own lips quirking slightly as he leaned over the banister that Carson had been on. Blue eyes thrown up towards him, the smile on his lips was sincere but obviously cautious as he smiled up at Carson.

“I’m sure they are coming, Car. You gotta chill a little bit.”

A hand patted Carson’s back in what Echo had to assume was supposed to be some kind of reassuring motion but Echo would never have a clue why.

“Who? Who are we talking about right now?... Damn. All right.”

If looks could kill Echo would be on the floor probably bleeding from the mouth, Abrams face one not to be reckoned with in those seconds. And Echo could only put a hand over his heart, feign baffled by the look. Like it was something easily tossed his way.

In reality, it was something thrown his way too often and too easily. And not from just little baby Abram either. His friends and family seemed to give the “The look’ just as often and just as easily as Abram. But he knew that when it concerned Carson from Abram, he had better clam the fuck up.

-----------

“Read ‘em and weep, boys! That makes three wins, and by rules of best out of five, I win! I’ll be claiming all of your wallets and your dignity now, thank you.”

The smile was apparent, even without seeing Ankou DeAngelis’s expression as she placed her winning hand on the table for the group to see, the men huddled around the table in nothing more than their underwear leaning to take a look at her cards before the low groans of disappointment and irritation began to bubble around her in a full bloomed chorus of manly dejection. Ankou’s grin only widened as she crossed her legs, her hands moving from the smooth feel of her cards to the wood of the table, her bright eyes, flashing poison green, bright but hazy with a  light hint of alcohol. She tapped the table, once, loudly, with one long finger, one brow raising in question as she watched as some of the men started to stand, making gestures and curses like they were just going to leave.

She didn’t allow her smile to falter, her tone all sun and ease and laughter, a hint of something dark, primal, that stopped the men in their tracks.

“Ah, Ah Ah…. I believe you have something of mine. I would hate to have to collect on any of you over a fun little game, simply because you could not keep your word.”

She supposed, given the chance, most of them would have tried to make a  clean getaway. She knew it was on their minds, a thought that rested in the shadows of bad ideas and alcohol brightness shone light in the dark. They stared at her a moment, and Ankou could practically read the ideas flickering through their minds. They all wondered, briefly, for a moment, of their chances of making it out of this with their money if they just ran. I could never be said it was not a thought.

But they knew better then to act on that idea. There were just some things, no matter what pack you hailed from, there were some things and some people you did not touch, did not fuck with, and as it was, Ankou was one of the. It was not wise to cross her, hell, most would have advised stray from even catching the young woman's eyes, vivid green a siren's call that too many had fallen victim to. It wasn’t that Ankou was particularly nasty...Ankou was… friendly, smooth and warm, the kind of girl who smiled and made your day a little brighter. She wasn’t the cold beauty that Ashlin and Abby had, she wasn’t the regal distant princesses that only allowed the gods themselves to part their legs, like Requiem and Perilium. Ankou was…. Summer nights and cinnamon liqueur, the burn of Alcohol and the hum of butterflies in your stomach as your crush wound their hands around your waste. She was sensual burning and slow touches, heated glances and panted breath, all the heat and lust high schoolers seemed to desire. She was the embodiment of your first love,your highschool love and unrequited crush, and that made you want to please her. She was the kind of girl who spurred feelings of desire and heat, and she made you want to try harder, take more.

But Ankou was a wildfire, and as quickly as she could warm you, Ankou could consume you, burn the flesh of your bones and leave you, empty, used up, a shell of who you once were. She showed no mercy, none to those who would cross her path and spike her temper, and it was common knowledge, you did not cheat her of her prizes, for she would use every bit of what she stole from you against you, and bring you to your knees.

“Your wallets, place them on the table before you leave.”

She watched their hesitance with an amused eye, watched them before they sighed and fished their wallets out, eight thumps of distinctive leather on wood before they moved, grabbing their clothes and leaving the room in a huff, her hands already on the leather to place them in the jacket pockets of the jacket she had stolen a week ago, much to large sleeves sliding off as she grinned and laughed at her new fortune.

She pocketed them all, the smile on her face changing slightly as she hummed her contentment.

Now, she really needed to find her girls.

She stood, her spine cracking as she lifted her hands, stretching them out as she yawned, her body stretching as she stood on her tiptoes for a moment, her head lolling slightly to the side before she inhaled, the familiar musk of smoke and sweat and woods filling her, her eyes closing as she allowed her hands to drop. Her heart ract stuttered, her stomach clenching as her thoughts shifted, to his smile, his eyes, the feel of hima against her… she felt that familiar ache, the need thudding through her veins, ands he sucked in breath, trying to calm herself.

First Menzy…. Then she would go look for him.

She had just enough liquid courage for that.

“Oh Menzy~”

Her voice sang, waving through the crowds as she followed the embrasses men and left the room, her eyes flickering over the moving bodies and sensual fire light. She only had to look around twice before she spotted that head of platinum blond hair, her smile returning with even more force than before.

“MENZY!”

That was the only warning the girl got, before Ankou had thrown herself on her, her hands wrapping around her as she pressed her body flush up against her best friend.

It was more than just the fact he could no longer feel, could no longer see the colors he knew ran so vividly through the world, a memory painted in the, admittedly, flawed spectrum his mortal mind had, More than just the missing emotions he knew she should be there, knew he should be feeling but instead of their rampant appeal, he felt nothing but an aching hole in his chest, another reminder of what used to be. He loved his father, He loved his brothers, his friends. He loved them, with every aching fiber in his soul, but he could not feel it, could not feel the burning attachment that he knew was there…. And Yet still, he acted on it, played into like most Vampires did, only his was strengthened by the longing the dwelled within him, that longing for both emotion and the people they were attached to. Saho wanted Amun… He wanted Alta.

He supposed that was the human remains in him, the side of him that had died thousands of years ago when his father had brought fangs to flesh and turned him from a peasant misfit to a king. He could remember seeing in color, could remember the feelings that rushed through him, new, hot, vivid, only to be taken away after one hundred short years, all color fading along with his joy, his happiness, anything light in him. He had been told it was normal, told this was the way a vampires worked, and after thousands of years, Saho had accepted that. It didn’t matter so much anymore, and he even began to appreciate it, content that his chest no longer swelled with sympathy, no longer felt any empathy for those under him.

It was in moments like these, in the flickering candle light of what they had deemed the throne room, his back pressed against the high raised chair with, what looked to him like murky grey but was actually a vivid blue cushions comforting his body, that the thought rose up again, the question he held no answer to and did not really care to.

What what the price of immortality?

Was it simply your humanity, or was it possible that it was the very beating heart that lay in you chest? Sure, it beat against his hand as he held a curious hand over it, his eyes hooded, shadowed as he felt it’s rhythmic thump in one, two, threes, but his question laid more with the ‘heart’ or had he given that up, Handed it to his father In exchange for immortality and power that now sang through his veins? It wasn’t a question he wondered often. In truth, Saho was content with how his life was playing out, in what it was that he could do, what power he held over people and their thoughts. He knew what he was, a Vampire, a king, and most days it gave him a strong vivid surge of enjoyment to see people beg him for small things, a loan, a day… their lives, and their vigorous fear only proved to him what he already knew…. That he was made to be a king.

But sometimes he wondered what price had paid for such a right, what he had given up to make this his destiny.

The question popped up now, fresh in his mind now, as he stared down the men who had fallen to their knees before him, dark long hair falling in his face as his hands pressed flat against the floor, his body, invisible to other who were looking upon him, shook slightly under the weight of his stare, like his eyes weighed more than his body could handle, a thousand pounds of judgement and promised pain. Saho’s head tilted, his eyes blinking slow as he took the man in, his memory, longer than that of a normal human, could vaguely recall the image of this man standing before him, to promised wealth and reputation to the kings should they simply give him a small loan.

Saho had known that he would not be able to hold up the loan that he had given to him. He had know this was how it would end, that the man, so cocky before, so arrogant, so sure, would end up here once more, begging, pleading with him to give him just that one more chance, that if he just gave him a little more time, he could make him double, no triple what Saho had dished out.

He didn’t realize Saho had never intended for him to make it.

“So you’re telling me, that you have come here, empty handed….. And expect forgiveness?”

The man stiffened, his sobs silencing even as the tears spilled from his eyes. He knew. He knew what it was that was coming, the words that would fall from, his lips even before he said them. Saho knew that if he commanded it, the man would slit his own throat, that all the King had to do…. Was simply say no, and they would know just exactly what that meant. In Reality, Saho didn’t have to say another word, didn’t have to even look up from his worn boots, didn’t have to do more then wave his hand in his direction for all of this to be over...

But it was far more fun to go through formalities.

“What’s that? There is no mumbling in my court.”

The man shivered as Saho’s voice ran over him, his body shaking, trembling. Saho gave him a moment, a few seconds of his prolonged silence, before the quirk in his lips became to hard to hid, the twist of his lips into a wicked grin flashing in his eyes.

“You don’t deserve my Protection any longer. All that you have…. Belongs to me now.”

The man snapped up, just as Saho Lifted his hands…. And snapped his fingers.

The sounds of his screams reverberated through the halls as the men lining the walls, the ones hooded, flashing ravenous eyes snapping toward the man’s figure as he spoke, who responded to Saho’s gestures in an instant, their movements quick, a blur of motion, and all that could be heard was the screams, the splash of blood across stone as they tore into his flesh, the sight of it hidden by the splay of limbs, the rush of bodies of starving vampire fledglings flailing and covering the sight of the body being torn apart.

Saho only watched, grinning slowly as he leaned back into his chair, his hand coming up to catch his cheek against his knuckles. He settled, tilting his head to the side to allow himself to soak in the screams…. For a moment, anyway.

“So…. you couldn’t have killed him in a normal way…. Like say slitting his throat? Stabbing him with a knife that I know you have on you…. Snapping his neck maybe? You know, like a normal vampire king might have? Do you have to use the starving fledglings? I hate the sounds they make….”

The smile that had been creeping along his lips dulled into a surly pout as Saho turned his head to look at the person who muttered the words lowly, softly, to the point that they were reserved simply and only for him. Saho took a moment to take in the image of the man lying across one of the other thrones, his hands raise so his fore arms rested on his chest, his eyes, blue as the oceans and just as deep, just as vivid, locked on the little cube of what should have been colors that rested in his hands, fingers moving over them to rearrange the smaller squares again and again and again, his expression never changing from his typically bored mask.

Alta Lee was a Formidable man. It didn’t matter that he was currently sitting in a throne with a child’s toy in his hands, It didn’t matter that he had seemingly never allowed his eyes to move from his hands, his fingers that moved easily over the little rubix cube, Saho knew that the brown haired king had seen, heard, processed everything that had transpired with a troubling ease. He didn’t have to look to see the bodies on the ground, didn’t have to look up to know who it was that stood before them and whose blood now painted the ground. A Lee’s business was knowing, and Alta was a picture perfect Lee.

“I like using the fledglings…. What the point of starving them if we can’t use them?” Saho huffed, slipping from his Kingly air for a moment as he huffed back, a child again in a golden crown. Alta huffed, scoffed at the words, his gaze only flickering once toward the black haired boy.

“That would be the point. What’s the point of starving fledglings? It’s almost cruel.”

“As if You care about what’s cruel or not.”

There was a moment of silence as Alta could not say a single thing to that matter. Saho grinned. It wasn’t often he won in a battle of words against the Lee. If he were to keep score (Which he wouldn’t, that would be pointless) Alta would have 18654 wins to his 4.

Including this one.

So he soaked in it a little.

“Next. Shalen Tustin.”

Saho, still reeling in his little victory against Alta, hardly heard the words that the courtkeeper had spoken, the rest of the court’s head turning as the wide double doors opened, revealing a small man with nervous mannerisms, his fingers touching as he shuffled forward, blues eyes flicking toward the fledglings that had returned to lining the sides before moving on to the kings that sat, unamused and imposing, at the head of the throne room. Saho’s head tilted, his mind racing as he tried to bring up some fragment of a memory on this man, but for the life of him, he could not remember.

The man stopped,paused in front of him, and from the corner of his eye, Saho saw Alta move, fingers dropping the rubix cube as he straightened his spine, twisting so that he faced the man with a  visible interest in his stance, something that caught Saho’s attention immediately. Alta didn’t care for court dynamics, and he very, VERY rarely showed any interest in anyone who walked in. Infact, Alta made it a point to simply ignore almost everything that was going on before him when it came to the days he had to hear what the public had to say, choosing to play some sort of childish game or ignoring everything around him. To capture Alta’s attention was something extraordinary, and now they whole heartedly had his attention as well.

“Why are you here, Mr. Tustin?”

The man shifted, mumbled something under his  breath as his gaze slid along the ground. Saho could hear Alta starting to shift again, and he knew from experience a restless Alta was not a Alta that anyone really wanted to deal with. It really wasn’t a matter on if he could hear him or not. Saho was, if not just a king, but a Dhouti, one of the strongest lines of Vampires, turned by by the originals themselves and holding their blood. He could hear him, perfectly, hear the words that slid past his lips, but Saho wanted to hear him articulate. He gave no special treatment, even to those that interested him.

“Why are you HERE, Mr. Tustin. I can’t be bothered to try and hear you if you want to whisper.”

“MY DEBT! I’m here…. I’m here to settle my Debt.”

“And what do you think you have that might interest me?”

There was a silence, before the man before them seemed to steel, and his eyes hardened as more people stumbled through the open doors. His voice was clear now, his mind already made up, long before he had even set foot before the Kings.

“My Daughter, Caven.”

And there was that human nature, the nature of loyalty so easily broken in the fragile creatures that made up most of the world's population. Saho blinked, his expression betraying nothing. He could not deny that he had expected something of the sort, the man's fortune, his house, his servitude, but to off his own daughter as repayment for a debt was something that saho had very rarely heard. He moved, shifting slightly as his gaze narrowed, the grin twisting his features, black and blue strands falling into mismatched eyes as he breathed his question, a simple one with a hopefully interesting answer.

“Tell me, why would your daughter be worth your debt?”

--------------------------

Vampire males, any of the males of the Originals blood without a lifemate, without their one, didn't dream. They didn't see in color and they certainly didn't feel emotion. Pain, yes, but not any good emotion. So why had he been reaching for a dream for the past few years? He was an ancient, an experienced warrior. He had no time for fantasy, or for imagination. His world was stark and barren, a necessity for battling an enemy who, inevitably, had been a friend or family member.

Over the first hundred or so years after losing his emotions, he had held out hope. As centuries passed, the hope of finding his one had faded. He had accepted he would find her in the next life and he was carrying out his resolve to do his last duty to his people. Yet here he was, an ancient of great experience, Alta of the Lee line, a lineage as old as time itself, a man of wisdom, a warrior renowned and feared, sitting wide awake, dreaming.

Dreams should have felt insubstantial, and at first his had been. A woman. Just a vague idea of her appearance. So, young in comparison to him, but a fighter in her own right. She hadn't been his concept of the woman who would partner him, yet as she grew in substance over the years, he realized how perfect she was for him. He had fought far too long to ever lay down his weapons. He knew no other way of life. Duty and sacrifice were bred into his very bones and he needed a woman who could understand him.

Perhaps that was what dreams were. He'd never dreamt until a few years ago. Never. Dreams were emotions, and he'd long ago lost those. Dreams were color, although not his. But they felt like color as the years shaped the woman. She was a mystery, sheer confidence when she fought. She often had fresh bruises and wounds that left scars on her soft skin. He'd taken to examining her carefully each time they met, healing her had become a traditional greeting. He found himself smiling inside, thinking how she was entirely confident when it came to viewing herself as a woman. For a few moments, he contemplated why he should be smiling inside. Smiling was equated with happiness, and he had no emotions to feel such things, but his memories of emotions were sharpening as he moved toward the end of his life, instead of dimming as he had expected. Because when he summoned the dream, he felt a sense of comfort, of well-being and happiness.

Over the years, she had become clearer to him. A fierce leader with exactly the same values he held on loyalty and family and duty. He would never forget the night, only a week ago, when he saw her eyes in color. For a moment, he couldn't breathe, looking at her in wonder, shocked that he could remember colors so vividly that he could attribute an actual color to her eyes.

Her eyes were beautiful, glowing blue with faint hints of gold and amber that darkened when he managed to elicit a laugh from her. She didn't laugh often or easily, and when she did, he felt it was more of a victory than any of the battles he'd won.

As dreams went, and they only occurred when he was awake, they always seemed a bit out of focus. But he looked forward to seeing her. He felt protective toward her, as if his allegiance had already swung toward his dream woman. He wrote to her, songs of love, saying all the things he wished to tell his one. And when she refused to rest, he'd lay her down, her head in his lap, stroking her thick mane of hair and singing to her in other languages. He'd never felt more content, or more complete.

He had often called her Varis, his tongue caressing the word. She had no idea what it meant, but that single word made a swarm of butterflies take flight in her stomach. Something that made him soar, made that smile that usually only played over his expression for his Dhotui display with a brilliance he could not wipe away.

And now, she was here. Her figure moving out from behind a man who did not even warrant a second glance. Alta could hear Saho’s words. Could hear the man speaking in hushed, trembling tones. But none of the words clicked with him. None of the words made any sort of sense when she moved forward, those blue eyes down cast.

He stared down at her, afraid to move or blink, terrified she would disappear, that his perfect dream would shatter. She didn't want them to see her injury. In his dream, she wasn't supposed to have an injury. She'd always been able to control his dream, but lately, reality had crept in a little too much.

Alta shifted out of the throne, his leg that was thrown so haphazardly over the side over the chair threw over to hit the floor. His fingers dropping the rubicks cube without a hesitation as he moved to tower over the small girl.

He gripped her chin in his hand and turned her face toward the light of the flickering fire, a small frown settling over his features.

“Your face is bruised.”

Those bruises shouldn't have been there. Reading her thoughts, as he always did, her warrior swept her hair from her face with gentle fingers. He allowed himself to just feel, to drink in her presence, to enjoy that moment of not just dreaming of her. He touched her hair, rubbing the silky strands between his fingers.

A very male part of him rose up, dominant, protective, a hint of rage at the idea of another man uncovering her vulnerability, at the thought of a person striking her. The woman, his Caven belonged to him alone, as he did to her. The world could see the warrior in them both, but the man and the woman were an intimacy no other needed to know.

“She’s mine.”

His words were meant for Saho’s ears, his finger still tracing over features of a woman so small in comparison to him.

Colors as bright as the sun swirled in front of his eyes, nearly blinding him. Every emotion was magnified a thousand times. Humiliation. Embarrassment. Sorrow. Rage. A terrible sexual hunger, raw and volatile, a craving he'd never experienced.

This need, this craving, was stronger than any one thing he'd ever experienced. It took his breath and stole his sanity. The passion didn't just involve his body, every single part of him, heart and soul, seemed to have an overwhelming desire to be with her. Life mates. His one. She had seen the devotion his grandfather’s Alder one had to him. He paid attention to the smallest thing, seemed completely focused on her every moment, and that kind of concentration would make Alta crazy. He'd been waiting for her too long. He went weeks without seeing or talking to another person besides Saho. How could he possibly be in a relationship? He didn't know how. He didn't know the first thing about sharing his life or, or anything. He could barely breathe, his lungs burning for air.

He would try for her though, he knew this with only moments of finally knowing her.

“Who gave these to you, Varis?”

-------------------------------

Caven never thought she would be the kind of girl who would long for death.

It was a strange concept to her, to be sure. Death was something that she knew, every human familiarizing themselves with the ideal and concept when they were young, a just in case mentality on most and a forced perception on others. It wasn’t hard, not really, to grow used to the idea of it, the act of it almost becoming something of a rite of passage, a coming of age for most people that called Heaven’s Falls thier home. Death was familiar, an ever present constant, a shadow that stalked, hunted, followed around humans. It was a creature lingering, a companion that trailed in the shadows they left behind, always there, mostly unnoticed, but forever connected, pressing dark fingers into spines to send little ripples of fear along their bodies.

Caven knew that she should be scared. It would have been the logical thing, the most appropriate feeling. She should be terrified, she should be fighting against the bonds that held her, the rope that bound her wrists together and tied them to her waist,, she should be cursing the day she was born because this was it, this was how she was going to die. She knew that…. She knew what she should be feeling with a vivid clarity. It was the vision she had always had when the subject was broached, as it always was, particularly in the early hours of the morning as kinds, children, hid under blanket forts with nothing but a candle to illuminate their youthful, naive faces, hushed whispers of what they would do if they should ever be caught by the monsters that went bump in the night, grand illusions, bold boasts of fighting, of ripping them limb from limb as they went down fighting….

No one ever realized it wasn’t like how you imagined. It was never going to be the picture perfect scenarios you thought of in your head. Sometimes…. You didn’t get to play the Hero. Sometimes, you had to accept that you were never going to amount to anything….

Except a Pawn.

Caven moved, following silently behind the man she was forced to call her father. Her hands twisted, not in struggle,in simple discomfort, her fingers clenching as her eyes, bright blue locked on the ground before her as it passed under her converse clad feet, worn shoes scraping along the floor as she heard the doors open to reveal her tomb, her deathbed, her grave.

She didn’t mind, not really. It was strange, but rather than curse and bemoan the luck that had fall upon her, the luck of having a father too arrogant for his own good, too cocky to think he had to pay back what he owed to the Vampire Kings, Caven instead choose to greet death as an old friend, a creature so bonded to her it might as well have been her twin. She was no stranger to death, having dealt her own hand of it, dealt her own pain, and so she simply graze past him, her soul lingering, fluttering about in bony hands... She straightened her back, eyes dry of the tears that most expected of her, her blond hair falling to frame her face, pigtails spilling down her back to lightly graze over the small swell of her hips.

She found herself thinking, marveling at how little she regretted her short life. She had only lived for eighteen years, but there was only two things that she even found herself feeling even the slightest bit of remorse for.

One was she never really got to say goodbye to Vendetta, her one true friend in this world, the only girl that Caven would give anything for. Caven and Vendetta had been born on the same day, the same year, within minutes of each other at the same hospital. It had been simply fate that she had met the girl in her later years, when she was about three or four and her mother had dained to take her to the park on one hot summer afternoon. Caven, who had been nursing a bruise the side of a baseball on her side, hadn’t been moving much, simply playing in the sandbox when some kid had come up to her and knocked over her silly little castle, a tragedy of a castle really, but it had been hers and she had spent a total of twenty minutes on it, a eternity to a child. Caven could remember the sting behind here yes, could remember the rage, but she never got to express it, as there was a sudden yell, a scream that was more battle cry then anythings he had ever heard before, and the form of a small girl, perhaps smaller than even her at that time, the cry on her lips as she came flying in feet first to slam into this person, some random whose names she could not remember, whose face had long since faded from memory.

But Her first look at the girl who would come to mean everything to her was something that would never fade from Caven’s mind, forever ingrained in her soul, her heart, her mind.  She was beautiful, even back then. Her hair had been much shorter, long white strands that flowed around her in an almost mystical halo. Caven could remember looking at her, her eyes wide as she looke dup at the girl who was grinning down on her, thinking that there had to be some mistake, that there had to be some sort of mishap because this girl was far to gorgeous to have ever paid her any mind. She was like some sort of mystical creature, a warrior, a valkyrie on angel’s breath come to save the common rot that littered this earth. She was ethereal, strong and powerful, and she choose her to befriend. Years were not kind to Vendetta in terms of life, both Caven and Vedetta drawing short ends of the straws in terms of parents. Caven could remember Vendetta standing before her, another protective stance as she took a beating that should have found Caven’s already ruined flesh.

She was like that, protective of her, even when Caven had not earned such a gift. Caven did what she could to make it better. She was not strong, something she knew from her father's hand, her mother's whips, but hands that could not strike could heal, and Caven’s fingers had skimmed over Vendetta’s ruined skin, her bruises, her cuts that both belonged to her and did not. Caven would trace over the smile, false, it always rang so false, fingers brushing pretty pink lips and bright blue eyes wide and watery with tears she would not shed, a weakness they could not afford. She wouldn’t cry in front of Ven, for crying would equate to failure in the young Albino’s mind, and if Ven could fake a smile for her sake, Caven would do the same, her lips forcing a smile even as they brushed over bruises and cuts that she knew would sting long into the night.

Caven had not seen her this morning. Had not seen her when her father had woken her at the crack of dawn and told her to get ready, to not bother with breakfast because they were running late. She hadn’t gotten to say goodbye, but she had left a note, knowing, assuming, that whatever her father had planned wasn't good.

It was the only thing she could have done, but it wasn’t enough to express her heart on tiny lines on a page.

Caven’s only other regret was something that she couldn’t really explain. For as long as shecould remember, Caven had been dreaming, thinking, envisioning someone who had long since become a comfort to her, a shoulder to cry on when she could not show tears to Ven. She didn’t know if they were real, she had to assume they weren’t, as she only ever saw them in her dreams, hazy images of a tall man with dark hair and bright eyes who brushed fingers over her skin, pressed kisses to her cheeks as she breathed in the comfort he offered without words, her hands grasping, clutching, reaching and wishing for such a handle in reality.

Her regret was she never found out who this person was, and now…. She never would.

But These regrets were few, and truly if she only had two regrets at the end of her life, This was something Caven could, figuratively, live with.

She heard her father speak, mumbling in his meek voice,earning an eye roll from the blond as she huffed her breath upward. She didn’t hear him as he moved, didn’t hear the footsteps approach her as she shifted on her own feet, fingers clenching, clasping, until she felt it, a hand on her skin as fingers hooked under her chin. Her face was forced up, a light gasp pulling from her lips as she blinked in surprise, and her eyes snapped toward the man whose hand brushed her skin so easily, whose touch rang a thousand bells in her mind, his very presences a soothing familiar feeling.

“I know you….” the words were out of her mouth before she could stop them, and she felt her heart, once hammering in her chest as his touch sung it’s call in her veins, stall at the sight of the frown that pulled on his lips. It was Him…. It was him, it was him, it was him, the man from her dreams, the one who so sweetly calmed her tears when she came to him crying, the one who in meeting healed her before all else, her body refreshed and vivid whenever he made her drink from his wrist. She recognized him, not by his looks, but by the sound of his voice, by the touch of his skin, light, almost hesitant, like he wasn’t sure it was her…. That frown however was a clear contrast to what she knew of him, and her heart plummeted. Had she disappointed him, was she not to his liking? The thought of being less than satisfactory suddenly hit her harder than it really should have, her eyes welling, stringing as she blinked rapidly and drew in her shaking breath. She wanted to be enough…. God she wanted to be enough.

His words, however, caught her off guard. No one had ever cared to ask that before…. Not anyone who didn’t know the answer already anyway.

“.... They were my fault, my lord… I was not fast enough to get ready this morning….”

She mumbled the words, her gaze lowering slightly away from him. The name he called her, she could remember it from her dream. It was always spoken so affectionately…. And today was no exception. Her heart fluttered a little at the sound, her breath catching as she leaned slightly away from him, though her body moved, leaned closer to his touch.

So absorbed with her discovery, Caven didn’t hear the commotion until it was at their front door, the doors slamming open and her name being called by a voice she would recognize anywhere.

“VENDETTA!”

-------------------

Her life was a living hell.

There was no way around it, no denying the world she lived in was wrapped in a dark mist of pure hell fire. Every minute of her waking hours nothing but a sad excuse of a life. Something that she would not wish on her worst enemy. There was no happiness besides the little moments she would steal away Dragging Caven and their sisters off, pulling from the fist and the lashes. The moments where her and Caven would sneak away, their secret spots hidden from prying eyes so they could just be. So they could just have each other. Wrapped in the little bit of happiness that both knew would not last long.

Her life was sad.

She didn’t want to be save though. Hell, if anything she wanted to be the hero of her and Cavens story. Wanted to be able to come down on the vicious world that they lived in. She couldn’t count how many times she had saved each of the small girls from the hands of their parents. Could not count how many times she had sucked down her own tormented emotions so she could show a toothy smile to the other girls. Show some sort of hope in the dark reality they called life. Her only saving grace, her only reason for continuing through the world was for Caven. For those blue eyes that stared so hopefully at her.

So she would be damned if her life was going to be a sad, hellish, and Caven-less.

With that thought in mind and blood dripping down her lip, dribbling down the column of her neck she pushed forward. Pushed through the onslaught of humans who tried to barricade the door from her, pushed through the guards, who she knew could have honestly taken her down. Fist pounded at her flesh, her mother’s screams reached her ears, but they held little suede over her. Not reaching any empathy as her voice cracked in a weak attempt of betrayal.

Elbows flew, catching her ribs, the side of her cheek, but nothing deterred her as she reached the spoked doors. Her hands pushing them open with a huff, tears that she had not even realized were falling causing her gasp to come out a little too desperate as she caught sight of the small blonde.

“CAVEN! DON’T TOUCH HER!”

Hands caught her as she lunged forward, fingers digging into raw flesh and squeezing on the what seemed fragile bones under their grasp. There was not too much she could do as her head slammed into the marble flooring, her head instantly pounding and brilliant lights playing behind her vision. But still she moved, even if it was lagged, sluggish under the assault of the body guards. The guards who seemed to be mildly distracted, their words flying towards eachother. Swearing at the guards at the door for even allowing her in.

The second she had a hold on her hands and knees, a white-hot flash of pain burst in her ribs, the red heads boot finding a home in between crushed bones. The air was gone and all she could do was arch, her mouth agape as stared wide eyed at the spiraling ceilings.

“I killed the last one, you gonna pick up the slack or do I have to do all the work?”

The red head spoke as she turned her head, her vision swimming as she tried to move out from under him. Blood poured from her mouth as she got back to her knees. Where she was only meet with yet another whip of pain, her head crashing back into the marble flooring.

“Let’s not be so hasty, why don’t you get your foot off our esteemed guest so she can speak properly.”

The voice echoed against the walls, reverberating through her very veins. Soothing a piece of her that she didn’t think she could get a hold of at the moment. There was a calm to it, a whisper of a promise that she could not grasp. But you could hear it, the tone lying right underneath the words. The tone of a leader, of a man not to be played with. A man in charge.

And Vendetta shivered against the cold of that tone.

But the boot moved, sparing her. Though she would not admit it, her heart hammered out a rhythm of fear as she laid there, pain radiating through her body. It would be a lie to say she was not letting said fear affect her, that she was only laying there still because of the pain. The truth was she was scared. Scared for Caven, scared for herself.

By the time she made her move to stand, her mother had entered the room. But Vendetta did not give her passing glance as she stood, a whine spilling from her as she winced from the pain that splintered at her side. Pale fingers gripped at the already bruising skin, her eyes finding those blonde locks again. Then finding the blonde locks of her best friends father. And she could not detain the rage that instantly burned through her, easily covering the fear as she approached the small group of three.

Her fingers of her free hand fisted, and the second it took for her hand to connect to the Shalen’s cheek seemed endless. But he went down, her hit so hard that she could feel her knuckles screaming from the contact. But her own body fell forward, breathless still.

“Can’t you guys get rid of those or something? The wrinkles I mean? Like with blood sucking, or vacuuming? I don’t know what you guys call it but you know what I mean… It just seems like a hassle to be an immortal hag… “

“You are accused of killing three ranking officers of the court, how do you plea?”

His voice shook as he spoke, the rage that was caught up in his throat slipping through the words like venom.

“Just because you speak louder does not make it mean more. Can we just get to the subject that you so rudely ignored? Like really? Hear a girl out, dying wish and such, how is it you keep your skin so ancient? You know so if I do survive this I do the exact opposite of that.”

“Just take her to the court. They’ll deal with her how they like.”

There was no victory won, she was not ignorant to that, but she had worked the man up into a big enough steam that she could not hold the smile back as he stood, hunched over the table, those thin fingers working over the paper to move on with his torment of innocent human beings.

“Look Sloane!!! We get to die together, cute right?”

She turned her gaze to her biffel, the beautiful brunette looking up at her from the gag with an expression was too used to by now. She winked in a mock delight as Sloane gave her the thumbs up. The guards moved in on her quickly after that, pulling up on the gag but not before she got a few words out first.

“Nobody has like had this in their mouths or anything, right? It’s been wash-“

And there it went that gag pulling into her mouth with no repercussions. The guards yanking her to her feet from the position they had put her in on her knees. They were rough handlers there was no doubt about that as they pulled her down on the seat next to Sloane, Shawna and Miranda looked at her with wide eyes, fear clinging to them like a second skin. Where Kato and Diedre only seemed vaguely annoyed.

It was not much time after wards they were standing again, all six of the girls forced to the middle of the room while the vampires exited. Only a guard standing at each door the indication that anything was even up. There were no whispers, no echoing winds in the room, just opens seats circling around them. Something that was only a little ominous compared next to the roaring thunder outside of the building.

It would be a lie if she said she wasn’t scared, that her heart was not racing a million miles an hour, that her body was not shaking over the unforeseen future.

She was fucking terrified to be honest, but she was not going to let a single viewer see that. Not even the ever beautiful Sloane that was leaning into her.

----------------------------

Tick…. Tock… tick….. tock….

It was almost hypnotizing to watch the dark gold metal flicker, back and forth, back and forth, and to realize that each tick of the grandfather clock that sat across from him was another second passing, each second moving, sliding, slipping through his fingers like running water.  His eyes followed the tarnished gold, bright eyes never leaving the sway that had him so captivated, though the vision of it was upside down, as his back pressed flat against the edge of a lounging couch, the one open edge allowing his head to dangle over the side, ink black hair spilling, reaching for the wooden floors beneath him.  His foot tapped to a unheard rhythm, his fingers moving, tapping along with each second to play over his exposed stomach, shirt hitched up as his body stretched to watched the metronome.

Time passed slowly, too slowly, and it was almost funny to him that no matter how long he watched this clock, time, for him, would have no effect. He was a bolder in the river, unmovable, unchallenged, time splitting around him to continue its path, leaving him here, right here, where he had always been, had been since the moment his father had changed him.

He would be here, long after this clock stopped and long after humankind stopped recording every moment, second that passed them by, brought them closer to the death they so rightfully deserved.

There was a noise, the sound of a door opening that caught his attention, but his eyes remained glued to the metal, his fingers never stopping, the only hint he even heard someone enter the light quirk of his lips as he began to speak, to address whoever dared to interrupt him as such a time.

“You better have a good reason for coming to me. I’m very busy.”

His tone was soft, playful and smooth as he continued his little motion, and he heard them shuffle on their feel, the slight creak of one as they looked around, possibly trying to decipher what it was he was busy with, not that they would ever really understand.

“My lord…”

Not a Squad member.

The smile on his lips never faded, but there was a hardening to his eyes, one that caused the man addressing him to stumble over his words and cough as the slight change.

“My lord,” He started again, “Your presence is requested in the Court room.”

“And do tell me, why is my presence required?”

Balthiair was many things, A killer, a trickster, a little bit of a man man…. but a fool was not one of them. He was not stupid, especially not when it came to his standing in the world. When it came to matters of the court, there was a ladder of people that judgement was passed to. It started with the True Kings, The Lee’s, Dhouti’s Arenello’s, Power’s and Khaset’s… the ones that had been dictated eligible to rule after the True son decided that he didn’t want the position as  the king… just A king. If, by the grace of the original vampires, none of them were available, it moved down the ladder, to the most logical, the well calculated, the ones who have proven themselves, over and over again to be able to make a stable minded judgement when it came to all matters, ones who did not allow something as trivial as emotions to get in the way.

Balthiair was not one of those people.

It was no secret the boy was… strange, and that he held very little regard for human life. It drove Carson mad when they ate together, how careless He was, but Really, the green eyed boy could not find it in him to care. Humans, by nature, were disgusting, deplorable things, no better then the animals they so persecuted for simply not having the ability to communicate with them. They were filthy, they scurried like roaches when the lights came on the moment they saw a vampire, they were nothing, a plague to the earth, the very destruction to a beautiful planet. They were nothing to him, every human he had come across just as vapid as the last, just as dull, just boring. They held nothing bust selfish desire and fucked one another over easily, no loyalty among them, and what sliver they had…. That could easily be broken.

He hated them.

The smile never faded as the man cleared his throat.

“It… well…. No one else is available.”

Balthiair knew that. He knew the reason, had logically put it together with just the few words the man had spoken to him, But he had wanted to hear it…. He wanted a reason, and the moment the man spoke, as soon as the words left his mouth, Balthiair was moving, a blur against the background as he flipped over, feet landing easily on the floor with a silent thump, and he was before the man, a easy going expression disassociated with the flashing darkness of his eyes.

“So you mean to tell me that You’ve come to me as a last resort? You think of me last?”

The man Gulped. Balthiair grinned.

“You disrespected a king. You think I’ll go just because you ask?”

His hands were around his throat before he could even scream, and it was the sound of gurgling blood and ripping flesh that greeted him as he flung the man’s head to the wall, the blood splattering against his face, the grin never leaving as he moved to swipe at it with the edges of his black jacket.

“Seems like fun though… why not?” he laughed, and the room fell silent, save for that small passing of time.

Tick…. Tock… tick….. tock….

----

Now, what do we have here.

The thought moved through his mind as he pushed open the door to the Court room, his gaze sliding along the stone floors as the thunder roared overhead, a clash loud enough to rattle the windows that lined the walls of this particular room resounding as the door slammed shut behind him, almost with an ominous toll. He made no motion that he even saw the rest of them, the bodies lining the higher tiers of the staggered seating, his eyes locked, solely on the figure of a girl who was kneeling in the center of the Courtroom,. He watched her, a slow interesting building, Her eyes flickering, watching him, the guards, and the others that walked in. He heard Titus as he moved through the doors, heard the voices of Logan and Parker as they spoke in low whispers to each other, but Balthiair payed them no mind. His attention was focused, sure, and there was really only one thing that interested him.

He moved like a predator, all sleek movement and smiles as he walked to the edges if the seating, his foot coming up to push himself up to the railing, standing there for a moment as he bounced on the balls of his feet, before he  flipped over the railing that lead down the to the court floor.  He landed witha thump, the room silenced as they watched one of the most unstable of The United States Kings stand slowly, moving with reptilian grace toward the humans in the center of the circle. His expression, easy, playful, calm, never changed, that same smile on his face as he dropped, slid on his knees, closer to this blond human Until he was in front of her, this literal definition of perfection that was wrapped up in a disgusting human flesh.

She was perfect, the most gorgeous girl, Human or vampire for that matter, he had ever seen. Long blond hair framed a perfect heart shaped face, bright green eyes, framed by thick dark lashes, watching him as he moved, his hands coming up, tracing over her lips and the bit of her gag. Her skin was flawless, pale against his, not a blemish or scar or mark in sight and only the skid of dirt and ruin that she had been dragged through by his kind. She was small, such a small little thing, her body curved perfectly like she had been hand crafted to turn every head she came across. Her eyes flashed at him, bringing him back as his fingers trailed over her features in a mesmerized sort of movement, a small breathy hitch the only indication that something was different before he moved, taking the bit off, Balthiair blinking at her slowly, taking in her every move. She licked her lips, trying to get her lips to feel something again as she shifted her gaze, and a flash of anger surged in him at it.

Balthiair brushed his knuckles over her cheek, bringing her attention straight back to him, where it belonged.

“What’s your name?”

There was a moment of shocked silence after he spoke, and he was very aware of the whole Courtroom watching him, wondering what it was he was doing, why he was even talking to her, considering her filthy human status. The girl looked equally surprised, her gaze flickering with thoughts she would not say, taking in his smile, the one locked on his lips, the one that was now taking a sort of dreamy effect as he looked upon her longer. She was so pretty, a perfect ideal in a physical form.The girl never looked away, her lips parting as she sucked in a breath.

“Cynthia.”

Balthiair’s grin grew wider. His motions never stopping.

His hand snapped solidly against her cheek, making her whole head snap to the side. Even his hand stung a little, and eh could see the rest of his hand print already beginning to appear on the previously unmarked skin. The gasp that slipped past of her didn’t go unnoticed, but Balthiair made no indication, no mention of hearing it at all. Instead his fingers moved, sliding along her cheek to grip her chin with his fingers and then yanking her jaw to face him again. He could see a little redness on her lip, here the force had pressed her inner cheek into her teeth. It must have cut her a little.

“Ow, For one, that Hurt you know, I –“

“What is your name?

She paused, clearly not used to being cut off, as her expression changed to on of indignation, before answering again.

“It’s Beth.”

Balthiair’s smile never wavered, though he could feel it as his brows furrowed slightly at this. This time the slap was harder, and He watched as she dropped, her body slamming against the ground as she coughed slightly, her cheek bright red and her lip gaining a small cut that had not been there before. Balthiair moved, hovering over her slightly as he looked down on her, His expression never changing, his tone still soft, still friendly, casual. He seemed more like a friend, asking if she was okay then an attacker, his expression friendly, open, his tone soft and welcoming. His head tilted as he looked down on her.

“What is your name?”

“Fuck… Shit… that hurt.” Her words came out a little slurred, like she had drank a little and it was finally starting to hit her. Her eyes looked dazed as she opened them again.

“What is your name?”

“It’s Joan, Okay?”

The resounding smack reverberated through the near silent room. He could hear the girl behind them move, struggling against her bonds, but his attention never shifted. Her cheek was bright red now, and the cut elongated, a dribble of blood starting down her chin as she gasped in pain at the remaining sting. His own hand burned, but he made no motion to change his expression.

“What’s your name?”

“You just wanna go at it huh? Why don’t you take a girl out first before you smack her around, that's the gentlemanly thing to do ya know.”

Another slap. This time he could see her lips split again, even more painfully than the last, the whole bottom of her lip ripped through, painfully as his hand crossed her cheek again, his body moving now, crawling over her to straddle her body. He placed himself,  either knee on the side of her hips as he looked down at her, face schooled in an expression that was far too friendly for his actions. The smile never dipped, only widened as his eyes did, his heart hammering against his chest, his breathing coming in slow shallow pants. His features were that of a friend, lips pulled, quirked, never failing.

“What is your name?”

“Are you broken? Or Deaf? Or maybe just stupid? It’s Delena, I told you.”

This time his fingers clenched, and the feeling of her flesh under his fist was a reverberating heave that sent shiver down his spine. The girl under him coughed as his hand drew back, a splattering of blood bubbling up as her lip split again, her body shaking as she sucked in a pain filled sob.  He looked down at his hand, looking, for all the world, only mildly amused. There was blood on his fingers now, and god she smelt so heavenly. He wanted more, just as much as he wanted to know her name.

“What is your name?”

“… Andy…”

Another punch, the sound of her teeth clashing together as his fist connected synonymous with the sound of her control breaking. He wondered if she knew, knew he could heard her lies, could hear her heart accelerate with each little lie she told, could see the little ticks in her face that sang of her falsities. It was so easy to tell when a human was lying. It was a little more difficult with vampires, he would admit, but alway, always, always,he could tell. He had long since studied body language, had studied what it meant to lie and the signs of it. He had heard lies, lies telling him he was attractive, he wasn’t a monster, he wasn’t scary, so much so he could pinpoint them with a  sniper's ease. He assumed that she didn’t or she wouldn’t have continued this way, or maybe her human nature made her stupid, like the rest of them, and she foolishly thought she could deceive him.

“What is your name?”

“Dulche… It’s Dulche.”

Finally… the truth.

“Dulche….” He spoke softly, tasting her name on his tongue. He liked it… he liked it a lot.

“That’s pretty.”

“What? You could tell?” Her words were slightly muffled, gurgled as blood welled in her mouth and she had to spit again, her head turning to allow the red to paint the ground, a little getting on his jeans. He didn’t mind. He only tilted his head, that grin never leaving as he skimmed her cheek again, enjoying the way she leaned away from him.

“Yes. I can tell when you’re lying.” He told her, expecting her to look horrified and for her to lean away again, to curse him, scream at him. She did none of those.

“Oh… Cute~” She spoke, her voice gurgled and slurred…. But truthful. She was telling the truth.

“What?”

That caught him off guard. Balthiair blinked, his eyes widening and the smile finally sliding off his face as he looked down at this bloody, broken mess of a girl. She didn’t seem apologetic for what she said, her heart beat the same speed as it had been before, no acceleration, no stall…. Her face remained the same, broken, but there wasn’t a single tick to it, not a single indication of lies he had come to associate with that word and him. She simply stared back at him as she allowed her words to slowly sink into the vampire king’s head, and as they did, Balthiair could feel the slow rising of warmth flooding over his skin as the blush built up, finally taking over his face and making him completely red.

Balthiair was anything but stupid. He wasn’t attractive, wasn’t smooth or pretty like the others, People didn’t call him cute, they called him hideous, intimidating, scary…. His heart hammered again, and he could feel his mouth gaping as his entire face ran bright, bright red.

“What?”

“Hard of hearing suddenly? Please tell me you aren’t actually deaf, I don’t think my face can take any more.”

“What?” He couldn’t think, couldn’t place together her words to him.

“Oh I’m screwed.”

“No, I just….”

Balthiair, suddenly, was at a loss of words. Luckily, he was saved from having to respond by Logan’s soothing voice, his tone hesitant but also impatient.

“Balthiair… Care to tell me what that was about?”

The dark haired boy looked up, his face still red and his eyes a little wide and watery from the raging emotions this situation had created in him. His eyes stung as tears welled up, green blurring as he but his lip. No one ever called him cute, very few people ever really said nice things about him. It was always monster, scary, demon… He had forgotten what affection, even the slightest bit of it, could feel like. He swallowed around them, pushing them down as he nodded, blinking rapidly to keep the tears from spilling.

But those were all excuses to a truth that she did not want to admit to herself. A truth that, if she was staying with this honesty thing, was as far from the reality she wished to live.

  Her chest rose and fell, a heave to the motion that she could not stop as the shutters ran up the length of her spine. Those fingers moving again to loosen the blindfold, her eyes locked onto multicolored eyes that she never wanted to see again. A face of an angel, perfection personified, with the heart of a devil underneath stared back at her. Those eyes deceiving as always, something soft swam behind them. Something warm and inviting, something she wanted to fall into, and could feel herself lean into that hand. Those fingers that moved under her chin only to make her peer up directly at him.

  A low whine pitched somewhere in her chest, as those eyes took her in. A plague of emotions behind those lids, confusion, worry, and something else. Her heart was hammering as he pulled her up, her blood screaming at her when those fingers once again caught her chin, his thumb finger running right underneath the split in her lip. Those eyes lingering before drawing back up to her own eyes. There was actual concern behind them. A feat that she did not need to fall into but easily did.

  Everything hurt, everything was sore and singing in pain. But she wouldn’t tell him, would not allow her dignity to drop so low as to admit to the leech what he more than likely wanted to hear.

  She had not noticed her own eyes until this moment, of which she hadn’t realized were brimming with tears. The burn that settled behind her eyes seemed obnoxious now. She was terrified, her body shaking in his fingers even though he touched her so softly, his words nothing less than heaven on her ears. But still, her heart was in her throat, her teeth clattered as she swallowed, trying to push some of the pride she had, the little bit of dignity she still owned back up to the fore front of her being.

 “Lucky?... That’s what you call this? Being bound and gagged daily? Being beaten, watching the person I want to protect be beaten? Sitting and waiting and wondering when or how our deaths are going to take place?”

  But god, he smelt, good. His hands felt heaven sent against her flesh and his eyes had her almost melting on sight. There was something lying underneath it all, something screaming at her to fight him, something screaming at her to revolt, retaliate in any way just to get away from the man. He had done terrible things, left her to die and only decided in the last seconds of her life to spare her. No this was a man that would take her life without a second glance, a man that would tear into with a smile gracing those perfect lips.

  Then there was the part of her that was yielding, yielding to nothing but the desire of his touch. Yielding to the comfort that was brought along by his being.

  “In all respect, fuck you, your majesty.”

 -----

  The first thing she heard was footsteps. It was her first clue, besides the voice that had shot out, had answered the men who had brought her here with a hardened voice that resonated with the shiver of a leader. Instinctively, Ashlin’s head snapped up, eyes that could not see turning toward the sound of approaching footfalls, each thump matching another of her heard, every rhythmic sound sending her nerves into a frenzy. The sound of them stopped before her, Ashlin not9ing that though whoever it was did not touch her, kept a careful distance of a few inches between them, she could feel them, sense them like she could sense the coming of a storm, all cool wind and soft breezes along her body. Their body was warm, close enough that she could heard his breath, the slow intake of air as he looked down at her, her lips pulling into a thin line as she lifted her head slightly, a slight effort to look more dignified than she felt. Her throat burned, her body ached and her head pounded with this unknown poison racing through her veins, but she refused to let it show, refused to allow it to show on her Face

 That is, until he touched her.

 The next thing she could feel was fire, bright hot need, burning and vivid along her skin as she felt his fingertips run, lightly, along her skin. It was a soft touch, hardly anything notable but it stung like she had been slapped, the brush of his skin lighting up her skin like fireworks. She stiffened, feeling as he ran his fingers through her her hair, to find the tie that held the cloth over her eyes. She marveled, silently, at how he made quick work of the knot on the back of her head, the cloth falling away to reveal closed lids, ones that she moved, opened slowly as she swallowed thickly enough for everyone in the room to hear. Her gaze remained steady on the floor, violet eyes locked on the chaos of the man before her, taking in every stitch, every slight shuffle as he stood before her, and she knew it was only a matter of time before he forced what he wanted out of her, before she would have to look up at him.

 Her gaze traveled, moving up his legs, his hips. His waist, taking not that though clothing blocked her view of his naked for, it did little to hid the strength that slide under his skin. She could see it in his broad shoulders, wide chest, his arms and legs thick with muscles that could easily annihilate her with a single twitch. He seemed easy in his kin, something that warned her that he was used to having power, and he must have been used to using it, considering he held no hesitation to his movement, simply went in for what he wanted, paying no mind to consequences he might have or may he simply didn’t see her as a threat

 Ashlin believed it to the later more than anything.

 Ashlin was not…. Strong, not in the common sense of the word.  She was small, weighing only about 100 pounds soaking wet and standing at 5’3, that was incredibly small. Her body sported little to no muscles, and he didn’t strike a very intimidating picture when you first met her. She had always been… willowy, waifish in terms of body, but it had never held a problem before, for her aim was more than enough to make up for any physical limitation she may have had. People say her as an easy target…. But you could not kill what you could not touch, and Ashlin’s aim always rang true.

 But her aim did her no good here, and the man before her didn’t seem worried that she might retaliate in the slightest.

 Her heart pounded, exasperating the headache that sang through her veins and made her whole-body ache, made her whole figure shake with some unspoken need, something in her calling, harsher now that he was close, louder now that his hands were on her and that she could feel his breath brushing over the tops of her hair. Her knees felt weak, wobbly, as she trailed her eyes higher, past his chest, his shoulders, his neck. Before she found herself staring at his face, dark blue locked with vivid violet as her eyes widened, and that need she had just barely been managing to keep contained exploded past her hold.

 “A-a….”

 There was no uncertain amount of distress in her voice. No uncertain amount of terror on her face as she realized the words would not come, her lips refusing to form the words that should have fell easily from her tongue. His thumb brushed over her lip. Drawing a sharp breath from the girl who usually had such good control over what she did, had a commander hold on her own emotions.  She stared at him, his features, his face, all new but somehow she knew them, knew them almost as well as her own, and she was absolutely drowning in them, hair as brown and thick as the oak of her home town, eyes bluer then the darkest pits of the ocean.

 Ashlin turned her head, yanking her chin away from him as she breathed in, not realizing she had been holding her breath. She meant to get away from him, to take a step back. But her body betrayed her, instead of moving backwards like she wanted, the moment she began to move she tilted, like something had pushed her, straight into his hold, between his lifted arms as her fore head pressed against his chest, her body shaking hearing his hammering heart just under skin and bone. It matched hers, at the very least.

 She wanted to talk, to say something articulate to make it seem like she wasn’t just throwing herself at him. But there was something in her, something strong, powerful that refused to unbind her mind, pulling tighter against her thoughts the more she struggled against it. This need… It was overwhelming, and there was only so much Ashlin could fight after five days of constant attack from this poison in her veins, the one that refused to go away. Everything hurt, her body, her mind, her soul, and just being near him… seemed to make that pain edge.

 “It’s Ashlin…. What have you done to me?”

 Her voice was dry, hoarse from disuse and pain. She felt both like she was drowning and like she was dying of thirst, her senses overwhelmed as her head pounded with his heart and her mind, not nearly as sharp as it was before, not nearly as calculated as it had been before.

 “What’s wrong with me? What did you do?”

   ------

 Later, he would account his unraveling to the little whine, that little hum of despair that fell past her pretty pink

lips as she leaned into his hand, leaned into his touch like it was her only lifeline in a sea of despair that she could not escape. The sound…. Did something to him, tapped into the similar feeling that had been boiling in his chest for… days now, the aching feeling of needed blurred the lines between each day so that he could not accurately give a number as to how many days had passed in the blur of need, but hearing, hearing her desire something in him with just as much desperation as he had for her.

 It was enough to make his blood boil.

 It took everything in him not to take her then, to not take her at that tiny little sound and to keep his hands still. The feeling of her skin was heaven, silk, satin, lace and everything he equated with sensual desire and longing, but here it was, wrapped up in this tiny human slip of a girl, in one of the few humans he knew he would never be able to have as he truly wanted. Most vampires, who found a human they so liked, would take them, keep them as their own personal living blood source and servant until the end of their days. It was a fairly common practice, one his own court, their blood, their families were not immune to. Aiden himself had taken one long ago, and while Carson had never looked down on him for it, he had never really understood why it was Aiden, of all people, had decided to take a little wisp of a human in as his own, or as they were formally called in Court, as his pet.

 Now he could, and he figured he owed an apology of some sort to the red headed bodyguard, but if he was going to be honest, Aiden would never hear it.

 The only difference was, unlike Aiden’s, who had a long term dependency on him and seemed to wilt whenever Aiden would leave, who thrived when he showed her any bits of attention, despite the need that ran as rampant through him as it did her, this one seemed to despise him, hate his very being with everything she had even as her body was calling for him. There was a look in her eye, he mused as mismatched brown caught hold of watery blue eye, sparkling lakes in a thunderstorm that was the emotions she held, that screamed of her disdain, that cursed his name without even knowing it. It didn’t matter that her body was craving him, that she was leaning into him with the impatience’s of a lover, Requiem’s mind was far from broken, and that brought Carson a bright, vivid burst of joy.

 That joy was quickly diminished by the sudden anger that surged in his gut, burned his throat and eyes as her voice, pure, soft, perfection, filled the space between them.

 She chose to selectively hear what it was he was saying, answering only a part of it as she snapped her answer back at him. There was something seriously wrong with him. He knew, because her words on any other occasion would not have brought such a reaction out of him, and as much as he wanted to think logically, his mind burned, hazed over in rage and he could hardly see through the red fog that had built up around him. His hand moved, steadily, purposefully, catching either side of her face to press viciously into her jaw, feeling as her jaw was forced open, her cheeks, skin and fingers between teeth as he lifted, pulled her up, up up, until she was fighting to stand on her tiptoes, his eyes flashing with a warning most others did not see.

 Carson’s lips pulled back into a snarl, his eyes narrowing as he held himself back from simply tearing into her like he wanted to. He watched her struggle for a moment, a second before his words came sliding through snapping teeth and bitter tongues, his hand crushing her jaw just slightly as he pulled her to him. Her breath was on his skin, and her lips brushed over his for a moment as he spoke, and really, it was the only thing keeping him grounded, from flying off the handle

 How strange that she made him so furious yet calmed him at the same time.

“You’re lucky, because I haven't found it in me to kill you yet. No doubt you’ll make some smart aleck reply on how that is your wish, how you want to die, but you know very, VERY little on what I can do. You’re scared, your fear is all over your face when you look at me, but compared to what I can do, what i am able to do… What I exposed you to was nothing. Death by a vampire is gruesome, but Death from a king is a whole other game. We don’t play nice, we don’t have mercy, and if you think I’ll stop at you, you're dead wrong. I had to stop because One motion I made almost killed you, and You are lucky that something in me made me save you.

 “You are alive simply because I wish it, you are here because I wanted you to be.  I suggest, if you like the privilege of seeing your little friend again…” He turned her head toward Ashlin, the little human now in Abram’s grasp, close enough that she couldn’t run, even if she wanted to, jerked it sharply enough to draw a gasp of pain from her, which only enticed yet another snarl from him, “You’ll start appreciating what it is I’ve done for you. Any and all inconveniences in your life are drawn from your nasty little habit of attacking every vampire that comes your way, so, in tandem, Fuck you, Princess.”

 Carson Dropped her face, letting her go so she could stand on her own two feet again. His hand moved, slid into his pocket to pull out a knife, the blade flicking out and gleaming in the low firelight.

 “Stay still.”

 Carson moved, grabbing her arms and pulling her closer, the blade sinking straight into the ropes that bound her hands and cutting them, letting them fall to the floor in an unceremonious heap. His expression never changing as he spun the blade between his fingers, a little flourish before he closed it and pocketed it once more.

 “My name is Carson, and you have been claimed by me. Meaning your life is in my hands, if you die, it will be by me. I would say you don’t have to worry about it, but you also seem to have a habit of running that pretty little mouth of yours and getting under people’s skin. Not a bad trait, I like a girl with a back bone, but I warn you, there’s only so much I will put up with.”

 ------

 Her hair fell across her face in a silky fall of brunette strands. Faintly shocked that he could see the individual colors, Abram could only stare at her hair. For one moment, he couldn't think, couldn't even breathe, drag air into his lungs. It was impossible, yet the hand he raised to the fall of brown hair was smeared red with blood. Blood that he wiped so tenderly off those lips. Red, not a muddy gray. His fingers brushed her hair back over her shoulder with exquisite gentleness, an instinct bred into his bones, exposing the line of her neck to him. She didn't seem to notice, working meticulously on trying to keep herself up right. Her skin was soft and inviting. Like satin. He bent his head forward, slowly, steadily, the fangs lengthening, the demon roaring, his body clenching. Her breath was warm against his skin. His teeth almost touched her pulse, that vulnerable pinpoint beckoning seductively.

  Her blouse gaped open, revealing exquisite breasts, lush and full and soft enough to pillow his head. He wanted to slip his hand inside her shirt and hold warm flesh as he bent to her neck. Her heartbeat more enticing than any he had ever heard.

  Her words were a melody on his ears, dancing through his mind as his fingers gripped the silk strand of hair, pulling back on them with enough force to snap her head back. His nose ran the length of her neck, his body crying out for hers as he pressed himself against the soft curves of her body.

  “Calm, Khaleen. I won’t let anything more happen to you. It’ll all be explained”

  She made a sound, frowning, still absorbed in her steady work, of steadying herself. Abram inhaled, taking the scent of her deep into his body. He didn't have control of her mind, and he was too enthralled to waste what was left of his control on working out the intricate puzzle. There was a nagging in his mind, screaming for him to claim what rightfully belonged to him. Something telling him to tie them together. And apparently when it came to his one he was a weak-willed man. He whipped up his arms, locking her body to his as his teeth sank deep into her neck.

White-hot pain lashed through Ashlin's body, danced like a whip of lightning through her bloodstream, heating her body so that every nerve ending was alive and pulsing with fire. The pain gave way to a dark, erotic, slumberous ecstasy she was helpless to resist. Abram was certain she struggled, but he was like iron, her softer body battering itself against his hard one, and he didn't seem to notice to the outer world. Didn’t seem to notice the screaming girl in the same room, he was internally lost. She felt the strength growing in him, spreading through him, even as her own strength seemed to slide away from her. There was a part of her that seemed to be separate, standing apart, watching and feeling in a kind of horror. There was fire in her blood, moving through her body, muscles clenching, tightening, going boneless, pliant in his ironlike grip.

  Abram glanced up at the camera trained on him, his mouth twisting in a humorless smile, flashing his white teeth. With his eyes staring straight at the lens, he lowered his head and stroked a caress across the pinpricks on her neck with his tongue. That look would tell them everything. He knew each of them, knew their scent; he knew his enemies. Their stench was in his very lungs, and he was a hunter. He had gone from prey to predator with one small infusion of blood. It wasn't enough to close the bond, but it was enough to allow his fate with hers to entwine. They wouldn’t take her from him, they would not be taking the one thing in this word that he already considered precious.

  He lifted the Ashlin's limp body easily bridal style, moving with a graceful show of strength. He had every intention of drawing his enemies to him and away from his family. But first he would destroy everything they had built out in the world. They hid their laboratory away from prying eyes. They hid their hideous torture chamber deep within the forest, thinking they were far from the law, far from justice, but he would show them who owned this part of the world, who had owned it for a long, long time.

  Ashlin erupted into a wild struggle, attempting to squirm away from him.

 But Abram only tightened his hold on her.

"Stop it," he ordered. "You have no way to escape. It is impossible. Lie still." His voice was a soft, menacing command.

  Ashlin lay quietly, feeling the enormous strength in his arms. She fought down her panic, trying desperately to think. Her body had become lead. It was an effort to lift her arm, make a fist, pound on his chest. She was dizzy and sick. His emotions were swamping her, a wild swirling of dark danger beating at her. She had never come close to feeling such overwhelming emotions. They welled up like a volcano, explosive, violent, very intense. She sensed something wild and untamed, a predator without equal. Her neck must have throbbed and burned as she wondered what manner of demon she had unleashed.

 He knew she felt the strength gathering in him. Felt it.

  Carefully, he helped the small slip of a female, retaining possession of the woman by holding her body close to his, until they made their way to a nook in the room. He felt her. Every inch, every curve. Her skin was unbelievably soft. He bent his head to her thick mane of flowing hair, inhaling the scent of her. It took a tremendous amount of self-control not to bury his face in the silken strands.

  She was very frightened, the fear swamping her despite the fact that he had tried to soothe her. Her brain patterns were different, the most difficult he had ever encountered. He caught her chin firmly in his hand and tipped her head back so her strange eyes were forced to meet his gaze. Her eyes were shaped liked a cat's, a deep violet in color. Her lashes were long and inky black color. He stared down into her eyes, a simple hypnotic technique that should have calmed her instantly, but instead he could hear the frantic rhythm of her heart pick up.

  Ashlin tried desperately to regain her energy. Her legs were very heavy, her arms still leaden and he knew this without even having to touch her mind. He was the only thing holding her up. She was dizzy. She blinked rapidly, trying to find a way to regain her ability to think clearly.

  "What's wrong with me?" Her mouth was dry and her voice sounded far away to her own ears.

  “I took your blood Khaleen, and I took a lot.” His knuckles brushed over her cheek bones, his thumb moving to trace over her bottom lip as he watched her every movements.

  Abram answered softly, honestly. "There is no need to fear me, I will replace what was lost." His arms tightened possessively, his body sliding over the length of hers so that he could watch those eyes that drew him in.

  Her eyes widened with horror as he stared at his hands, the wrist pressed against his own mouth until he bit into it, enough to draw the blood she needed in her system. Ashlin drew in on herself, stifling a gasp as he tore a long cut in his own wrist. Blood dripping as she watched in a fascinated horror. His own mouth working over the wound to draw more of the life-giving sustenance from himself.

  He bent his head to hers, her breath warm against his skin. His lips grazed over hers for a moment, before he moved his mouth against hers, nudging her lips open and pressing his tongue inside. She tasted hot, like spice and secrets, like warm summer nights and a midnight rendezvous. He found himself nudging her lips apart and pressing his tongue inside to get more of her, swallowing her grunts as she tried to push against his form.

Blood dripped onto her foot, and she watched in an utter fascination as each drop slipped past the gag. She had a split lip, her tongue coated in a tint of her own blood. She really would not be surprised if Ashlin did, not with the moves she had made when they had come to get them. Not a single word was spoken to them as these men dragged Ashlin out of her cell, their lips stern and their eyes lacking any emotion other than a pure rage. They ignored her as she asked on a sort of repetition what they were doing.

  Still there was no answer, and she wasted no time as the cell door opened, the stem of that goblet so beautifully crafted tightened in her grip as her hand slung out, slamming the glass along the wall so that only the stem remained. The first guard made his move pulling onto her arm and she swung, the stem landing its hit directly into his neck. Blood sprayed as she yanked back, taking the glass with her. There wasn’t much room for scuffle when the rest burst through taking her down in a mirage of movements. The only things she could feel was the pain wracking after just a few seconds of fighting back.

  Next she was walking, watching the blood drip from her gag and straining to hear any clue as to where they were going.

   “They are going to get us killed. All of us. You know their little human friends are still looking for them.”

  “Quiet, do you think they won’t take you out for speaking ill?”

  There was sudden pause in their footsteps, The hand resting on her arms squeezing and pulling her to a stop infront of what she could only imagine was elaborate doors, both swinging open with a creak.

 ---------------------  

 God, everything hurt.

 At this point, this was nothing new to her. Pain had become something of a constant, a forever faithful companion that never seemed to leave her side, even in the night when all she wished for was sleep. It clawed her now, dragged its nails along her skin and spine, pulling at her with every step. Every movement she made a fresh wave of pain, a new throb against her temples, a headache that would not fade.

 She supposed a little of that had to do with how she was greeted this morning, or what she assumed was morning. There was something people didn’t tell, or just didn’t realize was something that happened. When you were held prisoner, time passed differently. Everything seemed…. To slow, or speed up to the point she could no longer keep up, all sense she had of being part of the normal stream gone with the light of her days. She had her window, had the glass planes that separated her from the churning skies to tell the da, the time the hour….

 Ashlin had barely managed to fall into sleeps hold, had just managed to allow sleep to trail it’s way past her fitful shakes and trembling hands, when a sudden noise woke her, making her body snap up in instinct, skidding along the floor as she pushed herself backward into the shadows, the only comforting place she had now.

  The doors to their cells were opened with an unceremonious bang, loud, reverberating through the … what she assumed was a large space. She snapped up, eyes wide as she watched them file in, one, by two, by three, until it was all she could see, all she could hear was their voices, snapping at her, telling her to stand, to get on her feet now.

 Ashlin blinked, too surprised to comply.

 That hadn’t sat well with them.

 One had reached out, ignoring the way she flinched away, to grab a fist full of hair to yank to her feet, pulling a strangled yelp from, a desperate sob as she heard her sister calling, pleading with them to tell her what was going on, her voice gaining in desperation as the lifted the brunette to her feet.

 It happened on instinct, a quick surge of desperation and anger that mad her pull back her leg and swing, paying no mind to the pain of being held solely by her hair, the weight of her body dangling on the fistful of stands one of her captors was holding. Her feet planted firmly into the chest of one struggling to get a hold of her, and in that next moment, all she could feel was an exploding white pain behind her eyes as something slammed against her face.

 There was no fight from her after that.

 She tasted blood, she mused as she had walked, solemnly down the halls, guided by a stiff hand and the whispers of those around her, low mummers, hints of a conversation she could not follow. Her eyes were covered again, a blindfold tied tightly around her temples to block her from seeing. Her lip throbbed as she bit more harshly into the gag, blood, or drool, she really couldn’t tell, dripping down her face as she strained her hearing to pick up anything useful.

 “They’ll get us killed…”

 “Still searching…”

 “Don’t see what’s so special…”

 “Wouldn’t talk for five days, why start now…”

 The words, though ultimately useless to her, were heard, stored away in her mind as she tried to place together what was happening. She didn’t know much, but she could gather they were taking er somewhere important, and they didn’t like it, that there seemed to be a general air of tension and discomfort toward the whole situation.

 How curious…

 The doors opened, old hinges on even older doors, the creak of it making her back straighten and her body tense again.

 “Lords… We have the girls…. Per your Request….” There was a stiffness to the mads voice, one she could feel as the hand on her arm tightened to pull her in, toward something warm and homey, smelling vaguely of wood and smoke and cinnamon.

 “Drop them.”

 The reaction was slow, a reluctance that wasn’t there before, but slowly, the fingers left her skin, left her body and she was left to stand on her own two feet, a little wobbly but ultimately, fine.

 “Requiem… tell me you’re okay…”

 Her voice was low, soft, and she knew she risked much with just those few words… but she hadn’t heard from her since that scuffle, and her heart pounded with absolute fear.

  -----

  Honestly, the fascination at just seeing her again burst an emotion he had not felt in thousands of years through his heart. Relief washing over him even as he stiffened in his chair, his pointer and thumb rubbing together in a sort of contingent, the motion soothing an insufferable need to get up and touch her. To make sure for himself that she was fine, to look her over himself, to unbound her and drag her frail frame against his. To whisper apologizes into her ears. Even if they were to fall on deaf ears, how could she have forgiven what he had done to her.

  Though to his defense he was exclusively softer to this brunette that Carson had been to the darkling sitting next to her side. Carson made a move from his side, trying to move towards the two women and Abram pulled on the sleeve of his jacket, his opposite hand coming in a motion of pause. Blue eyes flicked over the girl, her lips moving around the gag in her mouth to speak to what she could only assume was her friend, her colleague. Either way some one of importance to her. Her voice threaded with worry, but spoken so low that even someone of his race would have had difficulties hearing the chime of her voice. But he was a Lee. There was no hiding anything from him.

 “Fine. I’m fine. Stop worrying about me.”

Abram’s head cocked at the interaction, his eyes flashing to the guards that still stood in the room. His hand waved towards them, once again motioning for them to leave a hint they did not seem to grasp. The room was silent besides the foot falls of the guards and the slow creak of the doors closing behind them.

  “You… you don’ think… it’s the kings again do you….”

  He watched as the darkling spoke, her head jerking to the general area of his brunette. And he could feel his own heart pick up with hers. Her heart thundering at the mere mention of them.

  “I don’t know.”

  Abram stood from his chair, his fingers splaying against the mahogany wood of his desk. There was a tick to his blood as he heard the chime in her voice ring again, fear underlying every note. A secret obsession he could not get over, though he had just found it. The sound of her voice touched him like he imagined her fingers on his skin would. A caress of sound. The woman's voice - throaty, husky, erotic - held the promise of satin sheets and candlelight. It played over his skin and sang a song of pure magic in his soul, tantalizing, enticing, sinful. It mesmerized him easily, and he wanted nothing more than to sit here and hear her voice speaking whispered words to him; it haunted and captivated. The notes danced, pure and beautiful, weaving a spell of enchantment around Abram.

  After long, empty centuries, in a single moment, everything had changed and it was all thanks to her. He could feel. He could see the brilliance of the colors in the world. His body was alive with needs and desire, not simply the ever-present gnawing physical hunger for blood. Power and strength ran through him, sang in his veins, flowed through his muscles, and he felt it.

  His feet fell to the ground in a low thump, his eyes on her filled with a desperation that he could not hold out on. He moved with the grace of a predator towards her, his whole humming as he approached. His fingers worked quickly, soothing back stray hairs as he untied the blindfold, then the gag, his thumb brushing over her bottom lip in a motion unstoppable even if he truly wanted to.

  “What’s your name?”

----------------------

 In the moments before they entered, Carson had found himself standing at the large windows that decorated one side of the large den that the cousins had claimed for themselves, the fire roaring to one side of him, behind the chairs they had placed there to form a semi-circle around the fire place. His body was ridged as he stood, arms crossed over his chest and one hand lifted to his lips, thumb brushing over his lip, Brushing over metal to play with the lip piercings absently, languidly, his mind a thousand miles away as his body remained here in the present.

 “Did you consume her blood, Carson?”

 That same line, over and over and over, ran through his mind, a record on lop that he could not stop. His father’s voice drifted over him, pulling him back to his father’s office, when he had entered along on his father’s request, his heart hammering in his chest as he thought about what it was his father could possibly have wanted.

 It was clear that Carson had disappointed him. It was in the way his eyes had narrowed when he had answered his previous question, in the way he had shaken his head and looked away from him for a moment before he had started to speak, his voice low, stern, almost harsh as he told them they could have the girls they so desperately sought. Carson’s stomach, already battling this strange nausea that just would not leave, did somersaults in his gut, his hands clasping behind his back, a sign of respect as well as a way to hide the trebling of his hands, both a nervous tick and a symptom he could not control.

 The question hit Carson as odd. After all, he had expected a lecture of some sort, had expected his father to simply tell him how disappointed in he was, to tell him that he had disgraced the Dhouti name last night and that the position of king would not be handed back to his Eldest brothers, that he had taken both his and his twin’s future away from them with a single mishap. A thousand possibilities had run through his head, but this…. This had not been one of them.

 Carson froze, his mind going, straining to remember that moment, the feeling of her lips against his something he could not forget. It overpowered almost everything else. Her lips were so soft, petal pink with a coating of bright blood red that caught his easily. He could remember the feel of them as he had forced her lips to part with his own tongue and lips, his tongue nearly bitten in two to give her enough blood to back track the damage he had done to her body. However, He had to push past that, tried to see past her lips and her low grunts into his mouth that he had swallowed gratefully…. And still, Carson found that this answer, as well, escaped him.

 Another disappointment.

 “I don’t know.”

 His father had released him soon after that, a simple warning to not take things lightly and to not allow his temper to get the best of him again. Carson had nodded and left, his mind hazy still, and now swimming with even more question.

 Why had his father asked that? Was he trying to see if had taken her blood because he was afraid he would control? Was he saying there was something wrong with her? Did he not trust him?

 Of course he didn’t, Carson had lost that trust when he had lost control.

 “Stupid.” The word was spoken softly, too low for anyone to really hear, but his thoughts were halted as he heard the door creak open, and Carson turn wide, multi colored eyes toward the door, taking a few steps to get closer to Abram as they were led into the room.

 And there she was again.

 God, seeing her was like getting sucker punched right in the gut. She was… absolutely stunning, the most enticing girl he had ever seen, and he had seen many, MANY girls in his very long life. He’d chose her, again and again and again, any day, over any of them, as she was more inviting they any of them could ever hope to be. . In five days, he had nearly forgotten what she looked like, had forgotten how tiny she truly was. She couldn’t have been taller than five foot, if that, her long ink black hair falling, tumbling around her face and body, nearly hiding from view the wounds that covered her body, wounds that Carson knew should not be there.

 Any and all wounds he gave her would have been healed with the amount of blood he had given her, so the blood dribbling from her mouth was not of his hand, and that in and of itself was unacceptable.

 Anger ripped through him, his mind racing as he took a step forward, a step to go toward the girl, but there it was, a light pressure that worked better than ten thousand men when it came to a Dhouti. The hand of a lee was a powerful thing, as they all hand the Dhouti family eating from their palms like tamed attack dogs. Carson stopped, froze in his tracks as he waited, watched their little interaction with a mind interest, his mind and duel colored gaze never leaving the girl as he waited.

 It didn’t take long until Abram was up and moving, already heading to the Brunette he was so obsessed with.

 Carson moved slower, no rush to his movements as he calmed himself. Of course, that effort was wasted, as the storm he had thought he had quelled suddenly surged once more, filling his chest with a heated torment, a desert in his throat as he closed in on her. Everything was pain and longing and need, and he needed… something from her, needed something to make this stop, make it fade, and somehow, he knew it was only her that could to it.

 Carson stopped before her, close enough that he could feel her, her heat, her breath run over his skin as he lifted one hand, his fingertips, in such a striking contrast to the last time he had touched her, brushed over her cheek, her skin heaven on his frayed nerves.

 How was it she could make this hell inside him feel like a heaven?

 His fingers found her hair, moving to the gag that was ripping into her split lip, untying it solely, allowing the cloth to drop to the floor with a near silent thump, his gaze on her as his hand moved again, taking off the blindfold as well, before his hand moved to her neck, nails tracing patterns along the hallow of her throat before he pushed her chin up, forcing her to look at him.

 Carson, for the first time since he had met her, allowed himself to truly breath, taking in a deep breath to catch the scent of what he had now claimed as his.

 And Carson drowned.

 Her scent was something he could not describe, a heaven, an addiction, a sinful hell he had fallen into and held no desire to escape. Her scent was heady, heavy and light, secrets that hurt no one, bike rides on stolen time and day walks in the woods. It reminded him of absolutely everything he loved, brought to his chest a surge of desire that he could not recall ever feeling, his breath hitching as he drew in another breath.

 “Requiem.” The name he had heard the other one call her slipped from his lips as he breath, the name shaky, unsure, like he was tasting it on his tongue and was slowly discovering he loved the flavor. He pulled her closer again, her body flush against him, every inch of him screaming with joy, a revolution in his mind as his body called for something, something he knew all too well… Blood.

 This call was so different. It was powerful yes, but instant, needy, almost raging against his chest. The monster in him beat and clawed, roared it’s need but he paid it no mind, ignored it.

 He would not lose control… not this time.

 “You don’t realize how lucky you are, Xanvek… Tell me, who gave you this? Was it one of my guards? How harmed are you, does it hurt much?” the questions flowed through him easily, too easily.

 Why did he care? Why did it matter to him?

 He didn’t know, It didn’t make sense. She should have been nothing, should have simply been a target....