by Unknown
“I was a little wary after the last time I was in town,” I shouted back, risking a couple more shots. Another one fell, cradling his bleeding leg. After that I heard the sound of ripping cloth, and a pistol being readied.
“Glad I’m not the only one,” she quipped, and I looked down at the ruin of her dress, torn just enough to give her access to her holster.
“Oh man, I really liked that dress,” was all I said, and as if it was a cue we both stood and opened fire.
We both got off four shots before the return fire drove us back, and chunks of the table started to fall away.
“This won’t last long, get behind the bar and hold them from there, I’ll get to the kitchen. Call for back-up or something too, we’ll need it!”
“You don’t get to order me!” she yelled indignantly, although I couldn’t tell if she was being serious or not.
“Quiet sweetheart, just do as you’re told!” I yelled, and we both dashed for our respective positions.
I had not chosen those two places out of a sense of whimsy - the bar and the kitchen door were on opposite ends of the restaurant, which forced our opponents to split their fire. I managed to make it into the kitchen area as more gunshots thudded into the door behind me, and I got up to be met by some startled chefs.
“Get out of here, we’re being attacked!”
They seemed to take notice of my gun and ran like hell, then I swore as I realised I should have asked them for their knife block.
I was in luck though, as I managed to find a decent chopping knife on the counter, which I took in my left hand and turned backhanded. I brought my left hand up in front of me, using my wrist as a balance for my pistol, and made my way back to the door.
Just as I approached it, the door burst open as one of the hunters stormed through, and I lashed out fast with the knife, aiming for his throat. He blocked with his rifle, driving a punch into my face and knocking me off balance. I’d managed to put a shot into his thigh, but after that the stock of his rifle came up and slammed into my face, knocking me on my back and breaking my nose. Well, it’s not like it wasn’t bleeding already.
Except now I was disarmed, having lost my knife to his deflection and my pistol to the upswing. At least the gun wasn’t far off - except the hunter was closer. His gun barrel was aimed at my face, his foot on my chest, then I realised that if he was this close, then so was his weapon.
“Why turn on your own kind, huh?”
Oh great, a joker who thought he was in the movies.
I didn’t waste time replying, instead driving the palm of my hand into the side of his knee. My position deprived me of enough force to shatter the joint sadly, but it pushed him off balance for a moment.
A moment was all I needed.
As he shifted his weight I grabbed the gun with both hands and pulled, yanking it from his hand a second before I slammed the stock into his crotch. As he went down I retrieved my pistol, and placed a foot on his neck.
“Because this side has cookies,” I told him before putting a round through his eye socket.
I holstered my own pistol and readied his rifle, a standard M16 assault rifle. Not even one of the newer US assault rifles, but it would do.
I pushed through the door...and did not like what I saw.
Corvi was stood amidst the ruin of several tables, with a few bodies lying around her. Not all of them were in one piece, and her mouth and hands were covered in blood. But somehow, someone had gotten around her at some stage and knocked her down, if the untidy state of her hair was anything to go by. Now she was flanked by two guys with shotguns aimed at her head, which no vampire could survive. In front of her were six other hunters with rifles, and one who seemed to be leading them.
I had to think quickly, try and take advantage of the situation.
“Nice work guys,” I told them, with my rifle trained on Corvi. I hoped someone would recognise me, that would make my life easier.
“Deimos! Holy shit boys, lay off him, it’s old Tyr’s boy!”
Whoever this was, he was going to suffer. I hate being called ‘boy.’
“Yeah, I’ve been trying to learn what I can from these bastards,” I said, and I felt a stab in mind with the thought What?!
I had been feeling a constant headache since Corvi had pulled her little stunt earlier, which made me think there was some kind of link there now. I decided to test the theory, and concentrated on trying to push a thought back down the link.
Play along sweetheart, was all I managed before my brain gave up on trying, but I was right. On your fire came back to me, and I began side-stepping towards the group keeping her covered.
“So, how’s it been Deimos, hiding in a den of monsters?”
“Like living with your mother,” I said, finally recognising the leader as Geoffrey Craine, one of my dad’s old friends and a man who I could not stand at all. His methods went above and beyond interrogation and into downright sadistic torture. People like him were the reason I joined The Order.
“Still a cocky little fucker, aren’t ye, boy?” he said with a laugh, his sizeable gut wobbling with every word. “We’re going to take this fanged whore back home, give her a good working over, maybe find out a few things you haven’t learned yet.”
“Sounds like a plan, but I should warn you...”
“Warn me what?”
I opened fire. A five-round burst spattered one shotgunner’s brains across the back window, and true to her word, Corvi had moved the minute I fired.
Her reactions and heightened senses meant that she was behind the other shotgun-bearer before he even fired, stabbing something blue into his neck and turning his body around. His finger instinctively squeezed the trigger as his body went into spasm, injuring two of the other hunters with the solid shot. I had turned, putting another burst into the hunter beside me, but the others recovered fast. A burst hammered into my shoulder, forcing me to drop the rifle and pull my sidearm again, and I ran to the side as I squeezed off a few more shots in their direction. Another round tore through my side, and I stumbled as another one ripped into the meat of my thigh.
Corvi went through the other gunners like a wraith, and I had a perfect view as she danced through their gunfire untouched to exact her own revenge. One of them died with her hand wrapped around his heart, which she tore free as she moved to the next hunter. She tossed the useless muscle at him, then appeared beside him and wrenched his arm back. Two more aimed at her, but she was too fast - she turned as they fired, feeding off the hunter as his compatriots riddle his body with bullets.
Two left. She ran into them, plunging her hand into the belly of one and ripping him open from navel to sternum as she pushed forwards to the last. She seized his weapon and tore it away, before forcing both hands into the space at the top of his ribcage. The screams were terrifying as she literally tore him open, the resounding crack of splintered bone a sound that sent cold shivers down my spine.
She appeared beside me, her hands pressing on my wounds to stem the flow of blood.
“You idiot, did you have to get shot on our first date?”
“Well, I thought that was how you people tell each other your seri-agh, fuck!” The pressure sent fresh waves of pain through most of my body, cutting off my remark.
“Oh how charming,” an unpleasant voice said, and I looked up at Geoffrey with a pistol pointed at us. “I know they suck Deimos, but that doesn’t mean you’re going to get a blowjob off her, you sick little shit.”
“A Desert Eagle, Geoff?” I grimaced, forcing myself to my feet. “Still over-compensating I see.”
“Well it’s more than enough to-”
I shot him in the leg with the pistol Corvi had passe
d me, and as he dropped he managed to put a shot into my left shin. I landed next to him, and crawled over his large stomach with what strength I could manage. I was bleeding a lot, and my strength was ebbing fast, so I summoned everything I had left.
I punched him hard in the face, breaking his nose and spraying blood over his cheeks. I punched him again, and again, yelling at him and punctuating every word with another blow.
“That’s. For. Ruining. My. Fucking. Date!”
I collapsed after that, but Corvi caught me first and helped me into a sitting position.
She quickly went and found the strip she had torn from her dress and used it as a tourniquet, binding the wound on my thigh first.
“Did you...did you stab a guy...with your shoe?” I sighed, trying to stay conscious.
She chuckled softly.
“Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, and no finer weapon than a stiletto heel.”
I attempted to laugh, but it didn’t go well.
“Maybe next time,” she said, ripping a tablecloth apart to make another makeshift bandage, “we should just stay in, watch a movie.”
I gave her the ‘thumbs up’ sign, being all I could manage at the time.
“Talked...talked to Lev...before we came out...”
“Is this really the time to talk about anything?” I simply nodded. I had to speak, had to try.
“Said...said you...lied...about the...the mark.”
She sighed, and hung her head.
“Deimos, I’m sorry, I didn’t-”
“’Sfine,” I slurred, “quite like...the idea that...’ve been claimed now...all yours,” I breathed, shortly before finally passing out.
I awoke slowly in a painfully familiar setting, with a painfully familiar face hovering nearby.
“Hey doc,” I muttered, still drowsy from whatever drugs had been pumped into me.
“Good morning, Mister Black,” Doctor McEwart replied in his mild Scottish accent, “so nice of you to come back.”
“Oh yeah, it’s great here, I’ve told all my friends.” I looked around as much as I could, and noticed a particular absence. “Where’s-” Careful, I told myself, don’t want to give anything away. “Where is Corvina?”
“She left not long after you were both brought in, saying something about ‘keeping up appearances.’ Wasn’t sure what she meant, not my place to ask. I’ll let her know you’re awake though.”
I nodded, and I think I drifted off to sleep again. The words “a few minutes in private” filtered into my mind, and another hand slipped delicately into my own, rousing me from the light sleep. The smell of cinnamon again, and a brush of fingers down the side of my face, meant only one thing.
“Was worried when you weren’t there,” I told Corvi, still just waking up.
“Well, this little incident has put a dampener on your Sentinel training, so the accusations you were worried about may still become an issue,” she told me quietly. “I just...I needed to come and see you. Make sure you were okay.”
“Oh, it’s fine, just a few bullet holes,” I told her, attempting to be the stoic warrior she probably wanted.
“Yes, which narrowly missed some vital organs, thank you kindly,” she chastised. “Anyway, I had to talk to you, about...about what Lev told you.”
“I said it doesn’t matter now-”
“It does, so shut up and listen.” When she used the Big Boss Voice, as I eventually called it, I had little choice but to obey.
“Yes, I had you marked as ‘mine’. What I told you before was still true, it’s just...I was fascinated with you, Deimos. I wanted to be the one to direct your course with us, I wanted to be your mentor, the one who turns you if you ever choose-”
“No chance,” I said curtly, causing a look of pain to cross her beautiful features. “I don’t want to be turned. It’s not a life I want. I will be yours for as long as you will have me but...not as a vampire.”
She seemed placated, at least partly, by my clarification, and continued her explanation.
“That’s fair enough...but I also wanted to make sure that no-one else would take you from me. I know, it was selfish of me...but I started to care about you quite early on. I think that much is mutual, too.”
I couldn’t help but smile at her.
“Am I that obvious?”
“Your thoughts betrayed you, young Skywalker.” She giggled - actually giggled - at the quote, and I mentally applauded her for its appropriateness for the occasion.
“Evidently. So...what you said at the restaurant, about becoming serious...” I suddenly felt sheepish for attempting to ask the question in my head, the question asked by thousands of young lovers the world over.
She understood though. A promising sign.
“Yes, I meant it. I want us to be together Deimos, and when you are out - again - we will sit down and have a serious discussion about our relationship. Uh, the good kind.”
I chuckled weakly at her. For a woman of over a thousand years, she could be quite awkward, certainly with me.
“My lady, I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to go now, he still needs rest,” McEwart told her, and I swore mentally.
Then she took a risk, kissing first my forehead then my lips in plain view of the doctor. Great. Our first kiss and it had to be while I was a wreck. But to feel her lips on mine at last, to taste her, to have that ultimate acknowledgement of being hers...it was almost mind-altering.
And she even tasted like cinnamon.
“Try and rest, hon,” she told me, trying the pet name experimentally. She seemed to enjoy using it, judging by the shy grin that followed. As she walked past the doctor she paused, and fixed him with an icy glare.
“You say anything about what you just saw,” she told him in a voice heavy with threat, “and I will fucking end you.”
Most people on the base who knew Corvi personally knew that she was not one for swearing much, if at all. So the use of one of the strongest expletives in the English language showed just how much she meant it.
And it was all for me.
Despite being in a shit-ton of pain, from being shot and operated on in the same twenty-four hour span, I felt pretty spectacular knowing that I had the affections of - and officially belonged to - the commander of the base. An aristocrat, a warrior...and now, my lover. Try and steal this woman from me, Remus you dick. The mental image of my brother trying just that kept me amused until I fell asleep once again.
CHAPTER 6
Rites
I had been lucky that none of the shots I took in the restaurant had hit me anywhere particularly vital. Within a couple of weeks I was on my feet again, albeit with reduced duties and a very disapproving look from McEwart. I’m sure he warned me to stay away from gunfire of any kind. Yeah, thanks for the award-winning advice.
My first personal order of business had been to meet Corvi. Instead of the mess hall, the outer grounds or even her office, she asked me to meet her in her quarters. No, not like that, you filthy-minded bunch, but it was the most private comfortable space she knew of.
And comfortable it was. It was double the size of mine, with what must have been an antique four-poster bed at one end. She had a large bookcase nestled discreetly in one corner, a beautiful old dresser table at the end nearest the door, and a red velvet chaise-longe, on which she was sat when I visited. She was curled at one end, her legs crossed, and a glass of some beverage or another - no doubt mixed with blood - cupped in her right hand. Being the evening she had removed her hair clasp, allowing her hair to spill freely across her shoulders and around her face.
Sometimes, seeing her around the base or in her office, it was easy to
believe she had no life outside of the work she did. But seeing her like this, or at the restaurant...it was a strong reminder that behind that powerful figure was also a woman, one who had as many wants and desires as anyone whose heart still functioned.
“You asked to see me?” She looked up quickly when I spoke, and undisguised joy lit her features.
“Deimos! Come in, close the door!” She stood up and strode over to me, placing her glass on the dresser as she passed. As soon as she came close to me she wrapped her arms around me, gentle enough to be wary of my healing wounds but still strong enough to show her emotion. I wrapped one arm about her shoulders and the injured one around her waist, pulling her close. The scent of cinnamon flooded my senses as it always did when I was near her, and I took a slight risk by kissing the exposed side of her neck. It seemed to make her hold me just a little tighter, and eventually she let go and took a step back, trailing a hand over my cheek as she did.
“It’s good to see you up again,” she said softly as she picked up her glass again. “Would you like a drink?”
“Not the way you take it, I’m sure.” She laughed, but before she started to pour anything I continued. “I shouldn’t anyway, the doc told me not to drink while on my painkillers.”
“He’s a spoilsport then, isn’t he? Come, let’s sit down.”
I sat at the opposite end of her chaise-longe to the one she had occupied, and she returned to her previous position, this time staring intently at me.
“How are you feeling now?” I could tell she was asking out of genuine concern, not the “are-you-coming-back-to-work-yet?” platitudes the average employers would spout.
“Crap, mostly. I’ve got a bitch of a limp, my shoulder hurts like hell stopping me from getting any rest, and it hurts whenever I laugh, stretch, yawn...most of the time, really.”
Her expression was pained as she dropped her gaze away from me, and I fervently hoped she wasn’t blaming herself for anything. After all, she was not responsible for armed idiots bursting into the restaurant and ruining our date.
