by Kallysten
Marc surveyed the rest of the map. Those few lines and colored masses seemed deceptively small, laid flat out on a desk: small and easy to explore. The reality would no doubt be somewhat different.
"I think we came this way,” he said, pointing at a secondary road that came from the southeast to meet with the one Daniel had indicated. “There were a few demons, but not enough that I think the breach was close by. The closer we get to it, the more demons we'll meet."
Daniel nodded absently. “Yes. That makes sense. They hide in the ruins by day, and by night they usually go and attack the next town over. The town is fortified, and the fighters there resist pretty well.” He gestured at the northern edge of the map. “That's why we've been exploring at night—"
"And that's what we've got to continue doing,” Marc finished for him. “If we follow the main road through and do it methodically—"
"We'll find the breach. And then we'll close it."
Daniel looked up from the map. Grinning, he held out his hand toward Marc, who shook it with a smile.
"We've got ourselves a plan."
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Chapter 8
During the more than seven years Kate had spent with Daniel's squad, she had lost count of how many times she had entered what, decades before she had even been born, had become ‘the City.’ It was as though, a century and half earlier, when humans had been driven out by demons surging out of the night, they had left behind their possessions, their lives—for too many of them, literally—and the name of their city as well.
Even in the next town, Claremont, where the refugees had run in droves, where they had built fortifications with equal parts mortar, stones and blood, where they had formed civilian battalions to fight back and died in astounding numbers, the lost town was known by the same generic name.
As many times as she had entered the City, however, she never put into words the oddity that was the fog until Marc asked about it.
"No, it's pretty much like that all year round. I never really thought about it before."
Behind them, John chimed in, catching up with them so he would be able to whisper, as they had.
"That's because you're not from around here. All the kids in Claremont grow up hearing about how demons come out of the fog and why you should never to be out at night. The stories say there never used to be fog around here until the invasion."
Kate glanced back at him, a little annoyed. It was her own fault, though, she admitted after a few seconds, if she had never made the connection before. Now, it seemed obvious that there was something unnatural going on with the fog.
"If the fog and demons are linked,” she said, looking around her at the gray patches that seemed to hide treacherous terrain along with lethal adversaries, “maybe we should look for where it's the thickest. That might be where we'll find the breach."
"I was thinking the same thing,” Marc said, flashing a quick smile at her.
His hand brushed against her arm, sending a jolt through her and getting her attention before he pointed at the façade of a dilapidated building on their right. They angled their path toward it while John stayed back as cover with Aaron, the last member of their team.
Without breaking his stride or looking at her, Marc leaned closer, brushing against her shoulder, and whispered, “We should talk to Daniel about it."
Marc and Blake had been with the squad for two weeks already: two weeks of almost nightly patrols, infrequent sparring, and growing camaraderie and frustration because they had found nothing so far.
Kate nodded rather than answering aloud, certain he would catch her answer. She had stopped being surprised at how well Marc could see at night, even with the fog around them, even when, like now, they entered a structure whose torn walls still towered over them, blocking whatever light the moon had offered them so far. A couple of times, he had caught her staring at him when she had been sure he wouldn't be able to notice. She had learned to be more careful.
Glass debris crunched beneath her boots, and she winced. She doubted this was the place they were looking for, but demons could be anywhere. Her sword raised in front of her to parry an attack if it came from the darkness, she fell back two steps behind Marc and three steps to his left in a formation that had become second-nature to her. She tried to remain as silent as he was, breathing as evenly and quietly as she possibly could when adrenaline raced through her. Eyes wide open, she swept her gaze all around them as they continued to advance, looking for any little clue, aware that if anything was to be found, Marc would find it before her. She wished Daniel would lend her the squad's only pair of night vision goggles, sometimes. Either that, or make another request to his suppliers to find more of those for him.
"It's clear,” Marc said, lowering his sword.
Kate trusted him, but she couldn't bring herself to imitate him, not when the shadows around them still seemed to wait for the right time to attack them.
"Are you all right?” he asked suddenly.
Startled by the question, she looked at him. She tried not to, when they patrolled like this. Not only did she have too many things to pay attention to, he was also too much of a distraction.
"What? Yes. Of course."
"Your heartbeat...” He shook his head and came a little closer. He gently took hold of her wrist, his thumb pressing into her pulse point. “It's been getting faster and faster."
His touch only made things worse. She wondered if he could tell that she was blushing. Shrugging, she pulled her wrist free and tried to calm down.
"Just tired, I guess,” she lied. “Let's get on with it."
They walked out of the building, finding John and Aaron where they had left them, and resumed their stealthy walk through the blurry city. Kate let herself fall back a little behind Marc to get herself under control. She knew the small touches and smiles didn't mean anything. She knew it, because Blake acted the exact same way. It was just the way they were, and she ought to know better by now than to give meaning to every little thing. She just didn't seem to be able to stop herself. Part of her tried to reason that it had simply been a long time since she had taken a lover, and her body was reacting to innocent things as though they were less than innocent. It just didn't explain why she couldn't treat them like every other member of the squad, like comrades in arms, almost brothers, and definitely unsuitable partners.
"Demons."
She froze at Marc's quiet word, as did John and Aaron. Weapons raised and ready, they looked around them, searching the fog and ruins for what Marc had sensed. He raised his hand, fingers spread out. Five demons, then. As a rule, they tried to avoid direct confrontation, especially if they were outnumbered. The same hand pointed at the shell of a house on their left, just feet away. As silently as they could, they hurried to it and hid, John and Aaron crowding close to the wall still standing on the right, Marc and Kate crouching to find cover on the left behind a mound of bricks and debris half as tall as she was.
She could hear the demons now. Heavy steps that seemed to echo in the meandering streets, harsh grunting that had to be some kind of communication form, metal grating on metal as the pieces of their armor moved together ... They were passing just feet away, and at any moment they might catch the squad's scent. Her hand tightened over the hilt of her sword, firming her grip despite her sweaty palm. It was only when Marc's hand rested on her back and he leaned closer to murmur into her ear, “Breathe,” that she realized she was holding her breath. She nodded and exhaled through her nose before forcing herself to breathe in more regularly. A few moments later, the demons had walked down the street. She signaled for John and Aaron to remain where they were a little longer. It was only a precaution, she told herself, and it had nothing to do with Marc's still hand on her back.
At last, the demons were gone. She stood up and joined John and Aaron, Marc following just a step behind her.
"We should go,” Aaron said. “Fast. Before they come back."
"We've
got two more streets to go,” Marc replied. “If we don't finish this sector, this night will have been for nothing."
"If we get killed—” Aaron started.
"This is not up for discussion,” Kate cut him short. “We're finishing this sector. Let's go."
As she passed in front of them, she noticed the look John and Aaron exchanged. She didn't let herself dwell on it. She was as tired as they were after hours of careful exploration, but that didn't mean she intended to shirk her duties. If they disagreed, she'd give them other assignments from now on.
They returned to their previous formation, with Marc ahead, Kate a little behind, and John and Aaron bringing up the rear in a triangle. They hadn't reached the end of the street yet when the demons found them.
* * * *
"They're late."
None of the humans replied, so Blake said it again, a little louder this time. “They are late."
"And thank you for stating the obvious twice,” Daniel said dryly. “Yes, they are late. Yesterday, it was us, the day before that, it was Mike's team, today it's them. We'll just wait for them. They won't be long now."
Blake pushed away from the truck and rolled his shoulders, feeling the weight of his sword. Ahead of him, the fog spread over the street, revealing and hiding the City in turns. He had a pretty good idea where the other group had been headed, and once he got their scent, he'd find them. Daniel caught up with him and stood in his way before he had taken more than a few steps toward the City.
"Wouldn't you know if he was in trouble?” he asked. “I thought vamps—"
"The only thing I'll know is when he dies. Not planning to wait for that."
He sidestepped Daniel, who again planted himself in front of him. “I said we wait."
"I heard you,” Blake said, meeting his eyes squarely. “I'm not stopping you and your lackeys from doing nothing. And you're not stopping me from going to find them."
Behind him, said lackeys grumbled at the name but, like good lackeys, did not intervene.
"Marc told you to listen to me."
Blake couldn't help laughing at that. “And you haven't noticed yet that I don't listen to him? Why makes you think I'll listen to you?"
"You've done just that for two weeks!"
"No. I happened to be walking in the same direction you did for two weeks. Now...” He looked Daniel up and down. He had seen him fight, and he was good at it, but he was no match for Blake. “Are you going to get out of my way or do I need to—"
He stopped abruptly and looked over Daniel's shoulder. He was sure he had seen something move. Unless it had only been the wind pushing the fog around—but no, there it was again. A silhouette appeared behind the fog, bulky, maybe big enough to be a demon. Blake started warning Daniel, but two slimmer shapes appeared around the first, these definitely human. Someone moaned in pain. Blake cursed. Pushing past Daniel, he rushed toward the incoming silhouettes. Behind him, exclamations rose as the others finally saw what he had.
His eyes jumped from one shape to the others as they became clearer. The first one he recognized, he dismissed immediately. He had nothing against John, but he didn't care much about him either. The next was Kate. He slowed down and looked at her more carefully. Nothing in her walk hinted that she was hurt. A small smile pushed up the edges of his lips. He was glad she was all right. When he turned his eyes to the last shape, he was walking. He knew what he would find. The scent coming toward him was one he knew as well as his own mixed with a less familiar one that was tinted with anger, blood and pain. He stopped a dozen yard away from Marc and watched him, an eyebrow raised in amusement. He had Aaron in a fireman carry over his shoulder, his arm over his legs to secure him in place. Every so often, Aaron kicked with his left leg. The right seemed immobilized with a makeshift splint. His moaning now alternated with curses, and by the time Daniel and the other two reached Marc, running, he was full out accusing Marc of murder.
"Is he trying to set the demons on us?” Blake asked Kate as she approached him.
She shrugged. “I can't blame him. He kept it quiet as long as he could."
Blake gave her a once over again. She looked tired. “What happened?"
"Five demons happened. That's pretty much the only thing we found. You?"
"The same. Without the demons. Pity."
She gave him a sharp look and opened her mouth, ready to lash out, he was sure. She seemed to think better of it and simply shook her head. When she looked at him again, the shadow of a smile lit up her face.
"Kate!” Daniel called out. He was almost at the truck, helping his men carry Aaron. “Take the wheel."
With a light groan, she started toward the truck. Blake let her distance him and joined Marc, who had slowed down after being relieved of his burden.
"Not only do you get to hunt with her,” he complained, “but you also get all the fun."
"Blake...” Marc sighed, very much like Kate had.
Blake's smile faltered. He looked away and dropped his voice. “I know. Not a game, people die, blah, blah. But nobody did die. And you're fine. Good enough for me."
They kept on walking to the truck. Blake glanced in as they passed the back end of it. The nine men were in, beneath the heavy tarp tented above the bed of the truck, and Kate had already started the engine. Before they reached the cabin door, Marc grabbed the back of Blake's neck, his heavy fingers tangling into his hair. Blake started protesting, but didn't manage to say a word. Marc's mouth pressed against his, harsh, demanding, a promise of things to come.
"Idiot,” he said when he pulled back, and climbed into the truck.
Grinning, Blake followed.
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Chapter 9
The small bedroom door hadn't finished closing behind them that Blake was pushing Marc against it, already tugging at his clothes. Marc started protesting at his roughness, but thought better of it. Two weeks had passed since Blake had decided that Marc was more interested in Kate than him. They had not slept apart for so long in quite a long time. As tired as he was, Marc certainly didn't mind seeing an end to his forced celibacy.
Fumbling a little, he unzipped Blake's jacket and pushed it off him before finding the edges of his t-shirt and tugging it over his head. Blake had gotten rid of Marc's jacket and shirt already, leaving his chest bare, too. He leaned in close and trailed his mouth over Marc's shoulder. A low, hungry growl rose from his chest. Later, Marc thought, weaving his fingers in Blake's hair. Later, he would share blood with him, if Blake behaved himself. He tugged on the strands curled around his fingers, leading Blake down. To his surprise, Blake complied at once and licked a path over his collarbone and lower. He stopped over his left nipple, teasing it with blunt teeth until it was tight and hard. Sparks of pleasure shot through Marc's body.
"Can I get a taste?” Blake murmured before flicking his tongue over his right nipple.
Forgetting his decision to make him wait, Marc hissed his approval. He closed his eyes and his body tensed in anticipation of the bite he knew would come. Except it didn't. Blake continued to touch him with lips, tongue, and just a hint of blunt teeth, distracting him just enough that Marc didn't pay much mind to the hand undoing his jeans buttons and tugging them down. When the same hand wrapped over his hardened cock, however, he started paying attention. Blake had asked for a taste; he hadn't said what he wanted to taste. Even as he realized this, Blake knelt down and nuzzled his cock. He flicked his tongue along the length until Marc's hips started bucking forward. Then, placing both hands on Marc's hips, he held him in place as he closed his mouth over the tip of his cock. Marc moaned very low at the feel of tight lips moving over him, and again when a sneaky tongue slid against the very tip and along the slit to hunt down a bead of precome.
Shaking, he tried to push forward again. All of a sudden, Blake's hands and lips were gone.
"Got my taste,” Blake said, standing again, laughter coloring his voice. “That's all I wanted."
Marc st
ared, too caught up in his lost pleasure to understand at first. When he did, he flashed a glare and his fangs at Blake.
"Strip."
He expected Blake to argue and be his usual annoying self; instead, he kicked off his shoes and scrambled out of his pants. He was on Marc's bed, wearing nothing but an impish grin and a hard on, before Marc could add a word.
"Well?” he said, stroking his cock slowly. “You don't need an invitation, do you?"
Marc started taking a step forward and almost tripped on his bunched up jeans.
Blake snickered. “Need help?"
"Sure.” Marc leaned down to pull his shoes and pants off. “Hold your legs up. Show me what a pretty ass you have."
Blake's grin turned into a grimace at being called pretty, but he continued to surprise Marc. He grabbed the back of his knees and pulled his legs up, exposing himself. His scent was pure, raw lust. Marc licked his lips as he approached, his cock in hand, spreading the precome over the tip. Desire coursed through him, a wildfire spreading over parched land.
Kneeling on the bed in front of Blake's open legs, he let go of his cock to take hold of Blake's instead. It twitched in his hand, as hard as his own, the tip leaking precome already even though he hadn't touched Blake yet.
"If you wanted to fuck this much,” he whispered, his voice rough with need as he traced his fingertips down Blake's length and to his balls, “all you had to do was say it."
He squeezed Blake's balls lightly in his hand. They felt heavy, the skin tight over them. Blake moaned very low, and his thighs started shaking a little.
"I didn't,” he said, clenching his teeth. “I don't."
"Right.” Marc's fingers continued their way down, stroking beneath Blake's balls on their way to his hole. “You're doing this only for me, because you're always so selfless. And you haven't been jerking off every day either."
He circled the puckered ring of flesh with his thumb. It twitched when he breached it, and contracted as though trying to hold him in when he pulled back. Letting his eyes roam over Blake's body, open and waiting for him, he sucked on his index and forefinger and coated them with saliva. He caught Blake's eyes and held his gaze as he pushed the slick fingers inside him, reaching and twisting until Blake blinked several times, his mouth falling open as he started panting. He always forgot he didn't need to breathe when they had sex.
