The monastery’s front doors opened and a monk waved for him to come in. Patting Barushka, he pushed through the snow to the door and entered the heat of the front hall. Another monk approached and they both welcomed their fellow brother, blessing Cedric that he had made it through such deadly weather. The elder monk was standing at an altar, reviewing scripture in silence. In great tradition, Cedric visited the Holy Water fountain and blessed himself. Being an abomination had its advantages. He had no known reactions to Holy items, but knowing Vladimir, he would have invested in a small place like this to find sanction in. He knelt before the altar and hummed the customary prayer and when he looked up, the elder had stopped his reading. He stared deep into Cedric’s eyes with a knowing nod and left the room.
Vladimir was here or at least not far. His presence had disturbed the elder, which was a good sign that he was very aware of who had walked into his monastery. Patient, Cedric sat at a pew, soaking in the silence and solitude. Living the life of a monk had been a welcomed change and it had given him time to adjust to the painful sensations that were slowly becoming a feeling of comfort. It was a reminder that he still had a chance to save Angeline and break the curse that had ripped them apart. The elder returned, handing him a map. He opened it to see that it showed paths from the monastery to a castle deeper in the mountains.
“May God have mercy on you for seeking out such a demon.” Nervous, the elder blessed himself and Cedric. “This is where he resides for now. I beg you, if you are here to end this madness, do so swiftly.”
Barushka was not pleased to be back in the blizzard so soon. Night had fallen and so had the temperature. A normal man and horse would have frozen to death in the temperatures and elements they pushed through. The thin rocky path was almost impossible with unsettled snow and blinding sleet. Finally, it became clear that Barushka was far too large to chance going any further. Leaving his friend behind, Cedric took only his grandfather’s daito for company.
It was not long before he stumbled across the broken castle that lay in the darkness of the snowstorm. Blood and decay filled his nostrils as he worked his way past the frozen bodies and impaled innocence. His blood boiled as he stepped over and walked by not only soldiers, but also women and children. This was not the Vladimir he knew, but something more demonic in nature. The Sultan was right to send him to take care of the matter. The front doors were falling off the hinges as he weaseled past them. Someone had downed them in an attack and seeing that he kept no being alive, no one was left breathing long enough to make the proper repairs.
It seemed like hours of wondering the desolate place of lavish ornaments before he came to a grand bedroom. It was dirty and broken as he entered and greeted him with an old sensation as his foot passed the doorway. He had failed to use his vampiric senses to locate Vladimir, but within the same room was enough to trigger them forward. The vibrations he received from his Grandfather were not the same comforting ones he had experienced in the past. These screamed of unforeseen ambitions and it became very clear why it had become customary for blood to chase blood.
“Cedric?” A broken man sat in a chair under ripped curtains, his long black hair now joined with a moustache and beard. His eyes were no longer the elegant yellow, but were large black iris framed with blood colored eyes from overfeeding. Vladimir’s clawed hands gripped the chair arms nervously. “I was wondering when they would call on you.”
“What you have done is unforgivable.” Cedric’s jaw twitched, his senses telling him of the overwhelming power he had gained sense their last encounter. “You have gone beyond killing other strigoi to killing humans for enjoyment. This is not the man I once met who was capable of being gifted a moroi-”
“You know nothing!” Vladimir’s shout echoed throughout the castle of death. Gritting his fangs, his face distorted as his voice took on a demonic tone. “You do not know what it is to lose a child! And lose your Soul mate! How dare you question who I am!”
“You have no idea.” Cedric could feel the heat of his own anger seeping forward. “You lost them to death. Do you know what it is like to feel your soul mate’s pain from torture? And I may have never conceived a child, but I lost my first love to my own animalistic instincts and act. If this was what drove you to your madness, than I was wrong to have seen you as strong!”
Bloody tears rolled down Vladimir’s eyes as he watched Cedric pale and sweat. Another wave of Angeline’s torture had come. It was still difficult to keep himself from showing it outwardly as invisible knives filleted his skin. Tears came against his will as Cedric’s next wave of sensations made his heart ache. The sting and pull of threads worked their way through his skin. Unseen stitches were sewing his lips closed as the scrapping of shackles tore at his wrist and feet. Merlin had grown tired of her mouth and now, standing before Vladimir, he had to endure what would have crippled him emotionally if he had been some place in solitude.
“That pain…” Vladimir’s voice was soft as he looked on. “Is this the torture you speak of?”
Cedric’s breathing was racing, his words failing him as he felt the struggles Angeline fought against, each pull of the twain brought knots to his stomach. He felt the aches and pains from her pulling on her constraints. His hope was that it was from the pleasure, the ecstasy of knowing he was still out there looking for her.
“I can almost feel it, the stitches, and the struggle.” He stood wiping the tears from his cheeks. “But I do not care for your troubles…”
“Then we shall end this here.” Cedric pulled the daito; a symbol of the good Vladimir, it would soon cut down the demon he had become. “It only seemed fitting that you would die by your own weapon.”
“You’re a fool.” The room distorted about them, shadows swelling in size as Vladimir sunk into one. “I have been waiting here to absorb your power…”
Pushing his emotions down, ignoring the sensation of the tightening of the last stitch, he called on the moroi within him. If he had any chances in this battle, he would need his ancestors to do him well. Movement around him was starting to come to his eyes as Vladimir’s corrupted laughter bounced in on him from all directions. His arm reacted on its own at the very second his eyes had sensed another glimmer of movement. The daito returned bloodied, though Vladimir’s laughter grew wilder. Gaining focus was difficult with his binding pulling him out of the ability he was attempting to use.
Claws dug deep into his back, and turning, Cedric found nothing. Another slash across his abdomen caused him to stifle back, but much to his horror, this was a strike from Angeline’s torture. A firm hand gripped his jaw from behind as Vladimir hissed into his ears, clawing his face and fading away as Cedric swung at him. The technique Vladimir was using was taking advantage of his current state. Once more, Cedric begged himself to focus. Another glimmer and he swung. Blood sprayed across his face, cold and black. An angry wail came from Vladimir as another strike hit Cedric’s shoulders. It was hard to say through all the pains he was feeling how many times the two of them took turns taking another slice out of the other.
Covered in sweat, Cedric was painting the floor under him red. Black blood smeared the floor around him, but he could not get a clear visual on Vladimir. There was no way for him to gauge who had the worst injuries, but he was not going to be able to keep the game up much longer. Once more, his senses shouted for him to swing. With a great roar, Cedric hammered the blade towards the ground. Screaming erupted from Vladimir as the blade pierced through his thigh and locked itself into the wooden floor beneath it. His game of cat and mouse had ended, and Cedric had a chance to see what damage he had managed with such blind swings. The deep cuts that crossed Vladimir’s body were far more devastating than his own. He was somehow winning with luck.
“I will suck you dry, you hot blooded halfling!” Ripping his thigh free, he toppled the weakened Cedric to the floor. “You are nothing to me!”
“Then the feelings mutual!” A flash of rage struck Cedric, a wrath shared by unseen f
orces that he had required from Vladimir so long ago. “I will not let you kill me as long as she’s still alive, Vladimir!”
“You have no choice in the matter!” Hissing, claws dug into Cedric’s throat.
The shredding of his veins popped as the sharp nails took hold. The sensation of Vladimir’s tongue brought a sense of fear and Cedric’s heart raced. His strength was failing. Perhaps he had grown too weak as a monk all these years. Studying and not using his abilities, denying himself the pleasures he once indulged in before losing Angeline. Perhaps he had done the opposite of his Grandfather and simply hid from his loss where Vladimir was lashing out against the world. Many times his anger had brought him such thoughts. Those painful nights full of Angeline’s torture, he lay crippled in his room at the monastery hating the world and his existence. The agony had done more damage than he thought, and he was losing the strength to struggle to save his own life, let alone live long enough to save her.
Vladimir was feeding, gaining power while he was dying, growing colder. Another wet scrap of his tongue sent chills across Cedric’s spine. Painful stitches tugged at his lips and with uncanny speed, he snapped himself out of the trance Vladimir had induced. It had been so subtle that Cedric failed to consider he would use such a low-level skill on him. His green eyes flashed with fury as his own blood spilled down his chest, his hand gripping Vladimir’s throat. The strength Cedric pulled from baffled both of them, but as the incubine horns pulled forward and wings shadowed the both of them, it became clear. This was not a fight between vampires, but the King Incubus and an overfed strigoi. Pleasure replaced his pain in his full form, a monstrous embodiment Cedric had not felt since the day he lost Angeline. His skin crawled with pleasure once more, his size equal to that of the last Boto.
“I do not have time to die.” Cedric growled as he slammed Vladimir to the ground. Grabbing the daito, he pinned his grandfather to the floor through his chest. “But, once more I will need you to give me the strength and knowledge I need in order to survive.”
A chuckle gurgled out of Vladimir. “You are no different from me if you feed from your elder against their will. They will send many to hunt you down!”
A smirk crawled across Cedric’s face and fear took its place on Vladimir’s face. “Oh, but you forget. I am not a strigoi, or even a vampire, I am an exception to your rule. Thriving on feeding on other demons, including your kind, has always been my way. This executioner has the right to claim the power held within.”
Screaming and struggling, Vladimir was no match for the bulk of the incubine Cedric. Ravaging his grandfather’s throat, he drank for the first time in hundreds of years. Claws ripped and ravaged his shoulders and back as the thrashing grew more desperate. Waves of pleasure washed over Cedric, his skin crawled in excitement as it welcomed the old sensations back home. Once more, as with the ceremony from so long ago, the foul filth had ended with one sweet drop. Releasing the ever-colder body of Vladimir, he roared his anger and grief to the sky. Tears flowed down his cheeks as the pang of loneliness mixed with the grappling of his body absorbing powers and knowledge. Life and death rattled him as he relieved himself of his Incubus form and scuffled to a chair nearby. Holding his still bleeding neck, he watched as Vladimir’s body shifted to ash and collapsed. His body was too weak to move any further. Satisfied that Vlad the Impaler no longer existed, he let the exhaustion take its hold on him.
#
“Well, you are up here after all!”
A loud female voice interrupted his sleep and he shifted his stiff frozen body. Rubbing his neck resulted in finding a crusted material across it. His attempt to sit up failed for a moment, and panicking, he realized he could not back away. Hands rubbed across his forehead and cheek, and for a moment, his blurred eyes saw Angeline. “Angeline?”
“Oh no! Wrong girl, lover boy.” A chuckle came through as they placed a cold, wet cloth across his neck. Burning heat greeted his wounds as they began to scrub the hardened blood that covered him. “Looks like I missed a hell of a battle!”
“What are you doing?” Cedric hissed, his wounds failing to close in the time he had slept, each open crevice aching and burning under the cloth. “Who are you?”
“For crying out loud, it’s me, Badbh!” Huffing, she continued with her rough nursing of cleaning so she could better see the damage done. “We found you out here bleeding to death! Who the hell did you get in a fight with?”
“Vladimir.” Blinking several time, Cedric’s eyes focused enough for him to see the customary bronze mask sitting on the floor next to where Badbh knelt. Badbh’s familiar scarred lip and chin framed the bottom of her pale face as she waited for his answer. “I was sent to end his tyranny by the strigoi and…”
“Ah, I keep forgetting the strigoi like to clean up after themselves.” Cedric hissed as she moved on to the slashes across his shoulder. “Shame I missed this one though. I was in the area after I had gotten word of some nasty battles. I was hoping to participate and give those Turks a boost of morale. It tends to keep the wars motivated for my entertainment.”
“Wait.” Sitting up with great effort, Cedric pushed her back a moment. “What did you mean by, we found you?”
Badbh shuffled to the side, clearing his visual range to the bulk of fur that stood in the doorway. Yellow eyes peered back, a brand etched into the werewolf’s chest. Romasanta sat patiently, awaiting Badbh to finish cleaning Cedric up. The unnerving sensation that crawled up Cedric’s spine added to his worries. The room was icing over, it was hard to say how long he had been sleeping, nor how long Romasanta had been in the area. Shaking off a cold chill, Romasanta smirked and turned his attention back to watching the doorway.
“Romasanta found you, and then called on me.” Badbh stood up, sighing. “How he even knew I was in the area, I have no idea.”
“How did you find me?” Leaning forward brought more pain as he broke his bloodied back from where it had attached itself to the fabric of the chair. “What are you doing out here?”
“You spilled so much blood that the smell was making me sick.” Romasanta huffed. “And like you, I am always searching for information on the matters that concern me. My research led me here, but instead, I found you, pup. It seems we were meant to cross paths again.”
Cedric sighed, staring at Badbh and Romasanta, it was strange seeing those faces again after so long. Feeling his destroyed neck, he realized how lucky he was to be breathing somehow. Something within Vladimir wasn’t mixing with the magic that kept him as one being. Covering his face, he mulled over what to do. He had no Angeline to drink from and he was far too weak to push himself. Romasanta huffed once more and left him alone with Badbh, as if a silent gesture to the answer. He needed someone of magical bloodline to reconnect his bloodlines, and in the current world, most had been slaughtered, watered down, and would not do him any good. Looking back up, Badbh had nodded.
“I told you my life was yours for saving my sister from Beelzebub. Romasanta is fully aware of what you were in need of; otherwise, he would have brought someone else to this place.” She knelt before him, pulling her hair to the side, her nerves calm and solid. “Whenever you are ready, Cedric.”
A look of dread crossed his face as he stared at her neck. It already bore several scars where blades that had attempted to free her of her head. Anxiety and regret was haunting him as he felt his thirst encourage him to give in. Reluctant, he took her neck, his fangs pushing firm against her flesh as he drank. Warmth was flowing back into his body, confirming how close to death he had come. Eyes tight, his thoughts stayed focused on Angeline and the need to survive in order to save her from Merlin. He would have to make many sacrifices in order to accomplish the impossible. The moment he felt the last broken tie within him fixed, he jerked away.
Badbh had been shoved back onto the floor. Grasping her neck, sweat sparkled across her skin as she smirked at him. “Wow, never thought it would feel so exciting-”
“I don’t want to know.” Wip
ing his mouth, his scowl made it clear he was not pleased with having to depend on her, or anyone. “But, thank you.”
Managing to scavenge some clothes, they regrouped where Romasanta and Barushka stood in the snow. The blizzard had passed long before they had found him. Barushka trotted about them, happy to see Cedric once more and alive. Badbh wasted no time to leave, seeing the discomfort the experience had been for Cedric. Romasanta shook snow and ice from his fur as he smirked as him. Once more, the Father of Werewolves wanted something.
“What sort of deal do you want out of me this time?” Cedric leaned his forehead against Barushka’s as he gave the shag foal hearty pats on his muscled neck. “I know that look, and we both know you do not save others unless there is something in it for you. What will you ask of me now?”
“Well, let’s just get to business.” Steam rolled out from his massive nostrils as his yellow eyes shined. “I believe we are chasing the same foe.”
Pausing a moment, Cedric shot the old werewolf a glare. “And what has Merlin done to you?”
“You are looking at it.” The smirk faded from his massive jaws and his lips curled in disgust. “Merlin is the one who did this to me ages ago. I am immortal and tortured to live as a disease upon humankind for his own enjoyment.”
“Then, are we to work together to get both our hands on the bastard wizard?” Cracking his neck, Cedric grinned at the idea of having such a powerful ally. “Is that the deal? Free exchange of information between the two of us?”
Cedric the Demonic Knight Page 23
