The bartender grunted in acknowledgement as a pale, slim hand trailed along the lacquered counter next to Jack. The hunter’s eyes fell upon it, taking in the pretty, electric blue nail polish that matched the tattoos crawling up and down the forearm in intricate patterns.
Jack turned around in his chair, eyes widening at the attractive young man sitting at the bar right besides him. He blinked, not remembering hearing someone come up behind him.
“Uh.”
“I’ll take that as a thank you, handsome,” the young man winked, his bright blue eye glowing with interest. Jack openly ogled him, from the fluffy, pushed back auburn hair to the slimly tailored dress shirt, and down to long legs shaped attractively from a pair of dark blue skinny jeans.
“Uh….sure….you’re welcome.”
Another Patreon fic from a few months back. Request was for a vampire!Rhys and hunter!Jack but but I put my own twist on it. Enjoy!
There were only two things in Jack’s life that he was completely sure of.
One, was that he was definitely one of the most ridiculously charismatic and handsome men that had even graced this wretched earth with his presence. Seriously, he managed to look good even when deep in the woods miles from civilization, or after two days of staying up all night keeping watch.
And two, was that vampires were complete, irredeemable scum. Which was why he had so valiantly put aside any career that could capitalize on his own devilish charisma and chiseled body and instead dedicated himself to eradicated these servants of hell from the face of the earth.
In his years of hunting, he’d gotten pretty damn good at it, able to surreptitiously track these monsters back to their lairs, then surprise them with a good old-fashioned stake through the heart or a searing faceful of all-natural Vitamin Sunlight. He didn’t always make it out of his encounters completely unscathed, but so far he’d never had to use the garlic capsules and spring-loaded cedar knife he carried on his person in case he ever ended up bitten.
Back in the States, it was harder to track down vampires than it was in Asia or Europe. They tended to blend in better with urban and suburban environments, and the local forests were full of more werewolves and wendigos and sasquatches than vampires. They adapted better, hiding themselves amongst everyday people with ease.
It surely was a challenge. But Jack was always up for something that put his skills to the test.
San Francisco was both a big and small city. It was densely populated but squashed into a tiny thumbnail of land. On the one hand, he had far less ground to search, but on the other there were millions of people he needed to narrow it down to the vampire he’d been hearing rumors about for his entire road trip up the California coast.
He rented out a small, squashed apartment for the short term, reluctantly using his fake name as he set up shop inside of the sparsely decorated space. He did his best not to raise much attention, as if he were to be investigated, the local authorities wouldn’t react well to a man whose room was filled with weapons and what would look to an outsider perspective as odd and obscene paraphernalia.
He did most of his serious investigations at night, where he was less likely to be harassed or suspected, though he had to go out in the daytime to grab some groceries or innocuous supplies.
Over the next couple days after he settled in, Jack followed a couple of his initial leads, the majority of them running into dead ends. Every night, he would trudge back to his apartment, often with less information than he had started out with. He’d usually spend the rest of the night bingeing on a garlic pizza and watching crappy comedy videos on his phone until he fell asleep, ready to try again when he awoke.
Jack had a vague suspicion about the owner of a local club, a blonde, pierced young man by the name of August Vale. He figured he could track down a potential lead and get himself a nice drink to ease the burn of his current frustrations.
He paid the cover with little fuss, sliding into the fancy lights and thumping music of the club like a shadow. He quickly wound through the crowds of grinding, laughing bodies before taking a seat at the bar and ordering himself a jack and coke.
He kept his eyes peeled for August, even as the alcohol started to fuzz the hunter’s senses. He swayed slightly in his seat to the rhythm of the music, humming softly to himself as he relaxed enough to enjoy the energy of the club.
He was just about to turn around and order another drink, when a sudden voice chimed next to him:
“I’ll cover his next one, Brick.”
The bartender grunted in acknowledgement as a pale, slim hand trailed along the lacquered counter next to Jack. The hunter’s eyes fell upon it, taking in the pretty, electric blue nail polish that matched the tattoos crawling up and down the forearm in intricate patterns.
Jack turned around in his chair, eyes widening at the attractive young man sitting at the bar right besides him. He blinked, not remembering hearing someone come up behind him.
“Uh.”
“I’ll take that as a thank you, handsome,” the young man winked, his bright blue eye glowing with interest. Jack openly ogled him, from the fluffy, pushed back auburn hair to the slimly tailored dress shirt, and down to long legs shaped attractively from a pair of dark blue skinny jeans.
“Uh….sure….you’re welcome.”
The young man laughed.
“One drink, and you’re already gone…would have expected something better from such a strapping guy like yourself.”
Jack shook his head, trying to clear his head. This kid was right—what was wrong with him? He wasn’t some lightweight, after all. He patted his chest, letting out a burp.
“Pfft, nah, not me….uh, sorry ‘bout that, kid, you just took me by surprise yanno?” Jack deflected, shooting an acknowledgement to the bartender as he slid the new drink into Jack’s waiting hand.
“Right, sorry. I’ve been told that I tend to walk too quietly…” The young man laughed, finger tracing in an idle circle as he rested his elbows against the slightly damp bar.
“Name’s Rhys,” he slid his fingers over Jack’s free hand, rubbing over the hunter’s leather gloves, “what’s yours?”
Jack worked his lips together for a moment.
“J…John,” he lied fairly smoothly, still accustomed to throwing around his fake name.
“Haven’t seen you around here before, John, and I’m here almost every night I have free…you just move here?” Rhys asked, thanking the bartender as he slid a bright blue drink towards him. Jack smiled softly to himself. The drink matched Rhys’ eye and tattoos in a way that was pretty attractive. Jack wondered if he did it on purpose.
“Just a few days ago, yeah. Not planning to stay long, though.”
“Awww, why not? We’re a good group.” Rhys winked. “If you stick around, I can really show ya a good time.”
“Heh. Yeah? Maybe I’ll take you up on that.” Jack couldn’t help but be distracted by the young man that had showed a sudden interest in him. He’d stopped even keeping an eye out for August, his attention entirely levied upon the cutie who was now petting his arm up and down and scooting even closer.
They flirted idly for a bit longer, with Rhys ordering Jack a fresh drink once he’d downed his old one. The older man’s head had long grown foggy with alcohol, shoulders swaying slightly as Rhys pressed closer.
“Nice tattoo,” Rhys mumbled, stroking over the dark blue inked into Jack’s wrist. His skin prickled with a chill, but his head and belly were so warmed by drink and affection that he paid it little mind.
“Same to you,” Jack tilted his near-empty drink towards Rhys’ decorated arm, “how much did that hurt, pumpkin? You got some balls on you…”
“Well, it didn’t get done all at once,” Rhys tittered, slurping down his drink before thunking it against the bar, “and it hurt a little but….don’t worry, I like pain.”
“Heh….is…is that so,” Jack slurred, sliding his arm boldly around Rhys’ waist. The young man let out a faux little gasp, an excited smile flittering on his lips. Jack grinned at him, inhibitions knocked out as he leaned in closer, slight stubble on his chin brushing up against Rhys’ cheek as he brazenly kissed the young man’s temple.
Rhys snickered, those pretty clear eyes flashing.
“So forward.”
Jack’s head was feeling heavy, his neck like wet string unable to hold it up. He flopped forward, forehead rubbing up against Rhys’ shoulder and sighing at the brush of fabric against his warm skin. His vision blurred, and he closed his eyes.
“Don’t worry, Jack,” Rhys purred, cold fingers running up and down Jack’s spine like rivulets of water.
“We’re gonna have fun together.”
Jack grunted as he woke up, the flesh between his temples throbbing as his vision swum back into clarity. He narrowed his eyes, trying to usher away the last clinging fog of unconsciousness and focus on where exactly he’d been dragged off to.
It was undoubtedly a standard apartment, but had been done up and draped in a ostentatious, almost Halloween-like aesthetic. The table in the middle was draped in velvety black fabric and scattered with ornate candle holders and even one large, painted candelabra. The former were obviously lit by fake, flickering tea lights, while the candelabra itself was actually topped with dripping, red candles. A huge, frosted mirror rimmed in inlaid gold hung directly opposite from him, showing off his struggling form despite the gauzy black material attempting to cover it up. He could make out, vaguely, that he was bound into a high-backed, plush chair, iron chains tight around his chest and wrists.
Jack wriggled against his restraints, eyes quickly searching out any possible escape routes, when the sleek black door to the living room suddenly creaked open, the ominous noise rippling through the air and sending a chill down Jack’s spine.
Firm, sleek soles clicked against the hardwood floor. A shadow cast against the wall, flickering in the changeable candlelight as Rhys entered the room.
He had shed the typical club-going attire for something that ended up being even more stereotypical, something that almost had Jack rolling his eyes. He now wore an elaborate black suit with a cravat pinned by a garnet brooch, a velvety red cape trailing heavily from his shoulders and fluttering about his ankles as he strode forward, arm held out dramatically. Jack glowered back at his captor as Rhys’ smiled at him, long fangs peeking out over his bottom lip.
Wow. Even vampires in Eastern Europe didn’t dress this way anymore.
“….Gotta tell ya, kitten, you weren’t even on my radar…” Jack grunted, shifting in his bonds.
“Oh, I know. I planted the clues to lead you to August, to throw you off my scent, but well….looks like you didn’t even have it in the first place,” Rhys laughed.
“…Guess I should have kept my eyes out for hot, flirty little guys moonlighting as agents of the undead,” Jack spat, heart thumping as the vampire reached out, sliding a cool finger underneath Jack’s chin.
“Guess so. Too bad you already fell for my trap, hunter.” Rhys tilted the human’s jaw upwards, exposing more of Jack’s pulsing throat. He swallowed.
A sinister aura gleamed in Rhys’ cool, mis-matched eyes.
“Now…it’s time for me to feed.”
Jack tensed, his fists clenching against the arms of the chair as Rhys’ cold breath blasted against the juncture between his shoulder and neck. Jack shut his eyes tight, expecting to feel the prick of Rhys’ fangs against his neck, the flood of dread through his body as his blood was sucked away.
But no pain came. Jack held tense for a couple more seconds until he carefully opened his eyes, looking down to see that Rhys had pulled away, cradling something glowing and metallic in his palm.
It was his….his cloaking device?
“What….what are you doing with that?” Jack raised his eyebrow as Rhys leaned in close to the lightly pulsing service of the device, opening his mouth wider, his fangs extending out over the glowing surface.
Before Jack’s confused eyes, wispy, blueish energy started to mist up from the cloaking device, billowing freely for a brief moment before it funneled towards the vampire’s bared fangs. The energy sucked up into the tips, like a vacuum drawing up dust.
Rhys gasped, suckling up the last of the energy, smacking and licking his lips with a dreamy smile. The screen of the cloaking device flickered one last time, before going completely blank.
“Oooh, yes, yes, I knew it would taste just as good as I thought,” Rhys purred, tossing the now-busted cloaking device to the floor. Jack stared, dumbstruck.
“You….you’ve gotta be kidding me…”
“What was that, big guy?” Rhys swayed up to his feet, rubbing his hand over his lips. Jack chuckled, shaking his head up at his captor.
“You’re….you’re not even a real vampire!”
“Not a real vampire?” Rhys looked scandalized as he threw his arm wide. “Look at where you’re being held! Look at me! Does this not look like….real vampire to you?”
Jack rolled his eyes.
“I mean, yeah, you got like the aesthetics down and stuff but….you don’t drink blood. You drink data.”
“I’m just as cool as all the others! Vampires don’t have to drink blood to be badass!” Rhys insisted, firmly crossing his arms over his chest as he glared at Jack. The vampire hunter scoffed, a grin steadily crawling over his lips at his captor’s frustration. It was kind of…cute.
Jack wouldn’t have ever thought he would find a vampire cute. As far as he was concerned they were all monstrous, damned vermin to be destroyed, but this guy…
Maybe it was because of their brief flirtation in the club—drugged or otherwise brainwashed as it might have been—or the fact that Rhys was the least threatening vampire he’d ever witnessed, despite all the trappings.
“You know you could’ve just…taken my cloaking device while you had me knocked out, right? You didn’t have to do all this…bring me back to your place, tie me up, put on your little outfit—“
Despite his pale, cool skin, Rhys actually managed to blush, cheeks tinging an ashy pink. He fangs peeked out from under his upper lip like a kitten trying to close its mouth, and Jack had been up close and personal with many a pair of fangs in his life and this was the first that he would dream to call adorable.
“Well…I was just going to strip you down, take all your devices, and leave you off lying somewhere but….well I don’t get to use all my decor very often, and you were….you were kind of…sexy.”
Jack snickered.
“So that flirting back there….that was all you, kitten?”
“You are pretty attractive. For a hunter,” Rhys admitted. His long fingers stroked and cupped Jack’s face, trailing through the patches of stubble. For once, the chill of un-death was less unnerving, and more enticing.
Rhys’ velvet cape swirled about him as he clambered up into Jack’s lap, his hands sliding to brace against the hunter’s shoulders. Jack felt his loins tingle as the attractive young man sat against his thighs, bringing them intimately close together.
“I may be a vampire, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have other needs….or can’t appreciate attractive humans.” Rhys’ finger’s curled into Jack’s hair, tilting his head to the side to again expose his throat. This time, however, arousal filled the hunter instead of dread.
“So even if I don’t drink blood…” Rhys hissed, his breath cold against Jack’s neck. “I still wanna bite you…make you feel a little pain.”
“So…you’re like my ex-girlfriends, then?” Jack joked, though his voice wavered slightly as Rhys’ fangs pricked at his skin. Now that there was no threat behind the fangs, his body started to tingle pleasantly as Rhys pressed his teeth up against his warm, human flesh.
Jack had never actually been bitten by a vampire. He’d always been fairly lucky, dodging any attempts to suck his body dry or transform him into one of the vile undead. But with the knowledge that Rhys’ fangs were harmless to him, he merely relaxed, enjoying the feeling as the young vampire’s teeth sunk into his flesh, sending chills up and down the hunter’s spine.
“Heh….oh, if my older master w-would see me now…” Jack shivered as Rhys’ fangs pierced into his throat, sensual warmth twining in his groin.
“Well, I mean…If I hadn’t broken his neck,” Jack chuckled tightly as Rhys’ groin rutted against his stomach, grinding their bodies together in the confines of the chair.
“You’re pretty talkative for a hunter, John,” Rhys whispered as he licked the bite mark against Jack’s neck, before trailing his mouth up to the hunter’s lips. Jack willingly pressed forward to kiss them, the contrast of hot and cool between them sending delicious, forbidden pleasure ringing throughout his entire body.
“C…Call me Jack, kiddo…ya think…think you can loosen these chains a little bit?” Jack gasped as their lips parted. Blueish saliva dripped from Rhys’ fangs as he licked them.
“As long as you promise not to run away,” Rhys purred, sliding his hands up and down Jack’s arms, feelings the bulge of the hunter’s biceps underneath his clothes, “or try to kill me.”
Honestly, Rhys was far too amusing and harmless to warrant any kind of immediate termination. As long as Jack kept him away from any computer stores or tech offices, he would probably do little harm. He smiled at the vampire, wiggling his fingers.
“Cross my heart, pumpkin,” Jack swore as Rhys fiddled with the chains around his wrists until they vanished into vapor, leaving the ones around his chest for now, which wasn’t ideal but Jack could live with it.
“If you end up pleasing me enough, I’ll get rid of those ones too,” Rhys poked the remaining bonds before cupping Jack’s face and leaning in for another kiss. This time, Jack’s hands reached up and grabbed at the vampire’s slim waist, brushing aside his cape.
“Next time you wanna hook-up, maybe ditch the layers huh?” Jack mused as he slipped his hands underneath the vampire’s suit, grabbing at the waistband of his dress pants. Rhys purred, rocking forward into Jack’s hands as the human fiddled with his crotch.
“Could say the same to you.” Rhys hands pulled at the buttons of Jack’s yellow shirt, yanking them apart to expose the hunter’s tanned chest. The vampire licked his lips at the sight, before diving it with tongue and fangs out.
Jack almost couldn’t believe that he’d been put in such a situation, but with Rhys’ actual threat fairly low and his sexiness relatively high, the hunter was more than open to breaking a few taboos.
Reaper | Gabriel Reyes/Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison
Characters:
Reaper | Gabriel Reyes
Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison
Jesse McCree
Summary: Gabriel and Jesse have been taken by hunters. Jack is determined to save them.
Read on A03 http://archiveofourown.org/works/13411284
The knife missed Jack’s artery by millimeters. He pivoted, ramming the butt of his rifle into the Order member’s solar plexus. There was gasp. Jack followed the assault with an uppercut to the jaw. The Hunter flew back and crashed to the floor.
Jack whipped up his rifle and scanned the room. That was three, where was number four? A sharp yip cut through the sudden silence. Jesse!
Jack sprinted toward the sound. He came around a corner into another room in time to see the final Hunter raise a thick piece of pipe above his head. Jack barreled into him from behind, tackling him to the dirty floor.
“Get off me!”
A kick to the gut sent Jack rolling. Spots burst in front of his eyes as he struggled to catch his breath. A metal pipe hammered his back, sending bolts of pain through him. He dropped to the floor.
“Traitor,” the man spat. He hammered Jack’s back again.
Jack curled into a ball as pain ripped through him. Wild yapping made him look up. A scruffy coyote, too big to be natural, strained against a chain tying it to the floor. A heavy, metal choke chain around its neck glistened with fresh blood, but still, the beast fought against it.
Jesse, Jack tried to say, but all that come out was a wheeze. He was too old for this. Three centuries too old.
Jesse yipped and barked, thrashing on the end of his leash. Blood dribbled down his chest. The Hunter stepped over Jack, heading for Jesse. He raised the pipe over his head. Jesse’s ears went back and his golden eyes widened. Despite the fear, he bared his fangs at his captor.
Something snapped in Jack’s mind. Damn this old body! He shoved himself to his knees, grabbed the dropped rifle and threw it. The weapon smashed solidly into the back of the man’s skull. He stumbled, dropped the pipe, and fell. Jack leapt on top of him, yanking a cord of rope from the pouch on the back of his belt. With long practiced ease, he tied the man’s hands behind his back.
“Filthy traitor,” his captive gurgled through a broken nose. “Why turn your back on your own kind? They’re monsters!”
Jack wiped his bloody mouth with the sleeve of his jacket. “Only monsters I’ve met are men like us.” He gave the broken face a swift kick and sent the captive to unconsciousness.
All he wanted to do was sink down and rest. His back ached from the pipe, his legs hurt, every old wound seemed to throb. But he was on a mission. The dangerous part was yet to come. Jesse whined, breaking him out of his thoughts. He approached the sandy-colored coyote.
Jesse laid his ears against his skull and shuffled back, tail tucked.
“Easy, kid,” Jack said, sinking to a kneel and slowly taking off his gloves. “It’s just me.” He stuffed the gloves into his back pocket and held out a hand. “Come get a sniff and remember.”
Tail still tucked, Jesse took a hesitant step forward. Jack stood still, waiting out the animal instincts. Carefully, Jesse prowled closer, nose sniffing. The wet snout touched Jack’s hand. Jesse’s tail came untucked and his ears swivelled forward. The long tongue darted out and lapped at Jack’s scared fingers.
“Attaboy,” Jack said, rubbing the spot behind the big ears that turned the kid to mush.
His fingers found a bloody lump of matted fur. He searched and found the choke chain digging into the kid’s throat. Magic bit at him. A warding spell? For a baby skinwalker?
“What did those animals do to you?” Jack ignored the razor sharp pain of the ward digging into him and unbuckled the collar.
Jesse sprang away like a jackrabbit, shaking from head to paws. Jack inspected the collar and chain. The wicked metal spikes gleamed with wet blood. He tossed it away.
“You’re safe now, Jesse. I need you to change back and tell me where they’re keeping Gabriel.”
The coyote whined softly, motioning with his paw for Jack to move back. He gave the kid his space. Jesse turned his back to Jack and sat, hanging his head. Jack hated this part.
Jesse shivered, his pelt rippling like it itched. Clumps of fur fell off him. The tawny skin became lose, wrinkles appeared. Jesse whimpered, laying down and curling into a ball. His whole body convulsed and began to swell.
Jack looked away when the cracking started. Seeing bones breaking themselves apart and rejoining once was more than enough. A pang of sympathy squeezed Jack’s heart. Once the cracking stopped, the ripping started. Jack turned back to watch and see if the kid would need any help.
The form that lay on the ground looked nothing like man or beast. It was a lump of flesh and bone. A human hand tore its way out of the lump, grabbing ahold of the flesh and ripping a chunk off. Jesse yelled as the flesh tore. Another hand appeared and both ripped and tore off strip after stip. Slowly, a human emerged from the gore.
The naked boy tried to stand, but slipped in the piles of discarded flesh.
Jack was at his side in a instant, catching his arm and steadying him. “Easy,” he said.
Jesse jerked away, baring his blunt, human teeth in a snarl.
“Easy does it.” Jack put up his hands to pacify him. “Just me.”
The golden gaze darted around the room. “The Hunters—”
“Got it handled,” Jack said. “You’re safe now.”
After a moment, Jesse deflated, all the fight leaving him in a rush. It was the times after his transformations where he really looked his scant seventeen years. Jack took off his jacket, slowly draping it around the boy’s shoulders.
“Thought I was dead for sure this time,” Jesse mumbled, pulling the jacket close around himself.
Jack brushed aside the shaggy brown hair and inspected Jesse’s neck. Usually, all wounds but the deepest vanished when he changed skins. There was a pattern of bruises and punctures around Jesse’s throat where the collar had been. How could they do this to him?
“Bastards,” Jesse mumbled, leaning against Jack. “I didn’t do nothin’ to ‘em. Just out with Gabe minding our own, not hurting nobody.”
Jack carded his fingers through Jesse’s hair. “I know, kid.” Relief and guilt gnawed at his heart. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You didn’t deserve this.”
Jesse weakly grabbed Jack’s shirt. “You gotta get Gabe.” It was almost a plea. “Jack… they ain’t fed him this whole time.”
Jack’s guts tightened into a knot. “Damn it.”
“I heard ‘em teasing him,” Jesse said. “Saying they was gonna throw me in with him and see who was hungrier.”
Jack checked his growl before it could escape. “I’ve got some meat sticks and ration bars in my bag back in the truck.”
Jesse shook his head. “Idiots thought starvation would break me. They don’t know a lick about what I’ve been through.”
But Jack did. Even if Jesse had been used to starvation, that wasn’t his life now. Jack never wanted it to be his life again. “Get to the truck, kid. I’ll get Gabriel. Where are they holding him?”
Jesse pushed away from Jack’s embrace, standing on legs as wobbly as a newborn foal’s. “Got an iron cage in the secret back room.” He padded on silent feet deeper into the lair. He stumbled and wove back and forth. Jack didn’t insult him by offering a shoulder to lean on. Jesse was like Gabriel that way; proud.
Jesse stopped at a wall and slid up a hidden panel. He punched in a few buttons and the wall slid open. “He’s in here.”
Jack’s eyes took a moment to adjust to the gloom. Slowly, he made out a cage on the far side. Bastards. Gabriel thrived on sunlight. Jack stepped inside and felt for a light switch. He found one and flipped it on.
Gabriel lifted his head and Jack’s breath stopped. They’d made a muzzle of iron and strapped it around his mouth. They’d collared him with a choke chain of spikes that dug into his skin. Manacles chained his wrists to the floor. His dark hair was greasy from a week of captivity. His perfect body was marked with bruises. But beatings hadn’t diminished him. He held his royal head high, eyes piercing as a big cat on the hunt. Jack had never wished to harm another human as much as he wanted to exact revenge on the four who had done this to his husband.
Gabriel’s blood chilling stare relented. “Jack?”
Summoned, Jack strode across the floor to the door of the cage. He dropped to a knee and inspected the lock.
“Jack… no,” Gabriel said, his voice hoarse.
“I can pick this,” Jack said, reaching into his pouch and pulling out his tools.
“You can’t come in here,” Gabriel sarled.
Jack selected the hook pick and inserted it into the lock. “Tough. I’m coming in.”
“I’ll kill you.”
Jack glanced up. Closer now, he saw the bloodshot eyes, the extended fangs through the bars of the muzzle.
“How long?” Jack asked, trying to remember the exact day when Gabriel had fed last.
“Too long,” Gabriel whispered. He tipped his head to the side and inhaled like he was oxygen deprived. “You smell good.” His eyes fluttered closed. “Delicious.”
Gabriel’s Voice slid into Jack’s ears and flowed into his brain like a dopamine rush. Rationally, he knew that was creepy. Dangerous. But that Voice made him want to strip and lay every inch of himself out like a buffet for Gabriel to sample.
“Stop,” he ground out, “or I’ll break my tools.”
Gabriel shook himself, chains rattling. “Jesse!” he snapped. “Get Jack away from the door. Keep him away from me.”
Jesse whined and shuffled forward, clutching the jacket around his too skinny frame. “You heard him. Step away from the door.”
Jack didn’t even need to look at him to see through the false bravado. Jesse was weak as a pup after changing skins. And even if he was back to his full strength, Jack still vastly outmatched him.
“Sit down before you pass out, kid.” He rotated his torsion wrench and the lock clicked open.
Jesse swayed to a stop and sat down.
Gabriel shivered. “Jack. Do not,” he growled.
“Don’t start with me,” Jack said, letting himself into the ten by ten hellhole.
“Leave!”
Jack froze, rooted to the spot as his will battled Gabriel’s Voice.
“It was—” Jack began, forcing all his effort into the simple task of speaking. “At the full moon… that you… fed,” he spat the words.
“Turn around,” Gabriel snarled, shifting back until he had pinned himself in a corner. “Get out.”
Jack caught himself turning and stopped. He grabbed hold of the bars to keep the Voice from winning. It was times like these he wished he had magic of his own. But all he had was stubbornness and love. They’d have to do.
“Gabriel… the full moon… rises tonight.”
“I know.” His Voice waved and dropped away. “That’s why you have to go.”
“It’s why I’m not leaving.” Jack knelt down in front of his husband and inspected the collar. Needles of magic stabbed at his hands over and over. He grimaced and did his best to ignore it.
“Magicked so I couldn’t mist away,” Gabriel spat. He leaned in close, nostrils flaring as he sniffed.
“Focus,” Jack said, pushing Gabriel’s face away.
“Unlock me but leave the muzzle on,” Gabriel said. “Take Jesse and run. I’ll feed on the bastards that did this to us.”
“No you won’t.” Jack inserted the pick into the lock of Gabriel’s collar.
Gabriel snarled, the sound ringing in Jack’s chest. “Why won’t I?”
“Because you’re better than them,” Jack said, working the tumblers of the lock as the ward numbed his fingers. “You don’t prey on the weak or unaware.”
“They deserve it,” Gabriel snarled, shaking his head, his long mane of curls swaying over his shoulders.
Instinctively, Jack ran his fingers through them. Gabriel turned and looked him in the eye, his fiery spirit tempered for a moment.
“I know they do,” Jack whispered. “But you don’t have to lower yourself to their level. Not when you have a willing donor.”
The lock popped open. Jack carefully removed the collar. Gabriel shook himself as the device clunked to the floor. Jack inspected Gabriel for any damage. The collar had left similar bruises and puncture marks to the ones Jesse had.
Gabriel tensed. “I’ll kill you.”
“You won’t.”
“I will,” Gabriel snapped, pulling away from Jack. “I’m hours from death. Everything inside me is screaming in hunger. I won’t stop.”
“You will.” Jack reached for the manacles.
Gabriel jerked away. “Don’t free me!” He sounded desperate. “I’d rather die!”
Jack patiently followed after Gabriel until he had him pinned in another corner. He held Gabriel’s wrists and picked the lock.
Gabriel lunged. He barreled into Jack, knocking them to the floor. Jack winced as his back protested, but he didn’t fight back. Gabriel shuddered from head to toe, his hands clamped tight on Jack’s wrists.
“Shh,” Jack soothed. “It’s okay.”
“It is not!” Gabriel roared. His red eyes glowed like he was lit from within. It was gorgeous. “I’m starving, Jack. Not hungry. Starved. If you take off this iron, I will rip your throat out, consume every last drop of blood, and—” His voice broke and he hung his head. “And I will have lost you for good.”
“That’s not going to happen,” Jack said. “You’ve fought off starvation before and didn’t kill anyone.”
“That was different,” Gabriel snarled.
Jack shook his head. “It’s not. Listen to me. You are stronger than any human or teyollohcuani. You’re a king, Gabriel, a base emotion could never get the better of you.”
Gabriel’s eyes locked with Jack’s. “You have never felt hunger like this,” he rasped. “You have not felt every second of time pass in the marrow of your bones and know your doom is moments away.” He opened his mouth, fangs extending. “This is more than hunger. This is survival. This is millions of years of evolution distilled in a single urge to bite.” He snapped his teeth closed.
Jack smirked up at him. “Have I ever told you that you get dramatic when you’re hungry?”
Gabriel hissed. “This isn’t funny.”
“You’re not a beast, Gabriel. You’re a teyollohcuani. Proud, strong, and you will overcome evolution.”
“Do you have a deathwish?” Gabriel asked.
“I do,” Jack said.
That seemed to startle Gabriel into silence.
Jack closed his eyes. “You’ve never hurt innocents. You’ve never broken your vows. You haven’t stood aside and let innocent beings be slaughtered. I have.” He opened his eyes again and found Gabriel staring at him. “If I am to die, I want my death to do something good.” He reached up and put his hand on Gabriel’s cheek. “I could think of nothing better to die for than to save you.”
“No.” Gabriel growled. “Do not die for me, Jack. Live with me.”
“If you don’t feed from me, you die,” Jack said.
“If I feed from you, you’ll die,” Gabriel said.
Jack brushed his thumb along the perfect cheekbone and smiled up at him. “I trust you.”
“Don’t.”
Jack slid his hand up behind Gabriel’s head and pulled the buckle free.
“No!”
The muzzle fell away. Gabriel stared down at him, eyes wide with fear and hunger. Slowly, Jack ran his hand back down to cup Gabriel’s cheek. His husband trembled, fighting himself to remain calm.
“Shh,” Jack soothed again. “I won’t fight. Just breathe. It will be okay.”
“Please,” Gabriel whispered leaning closer, fangs extending. “Please run.”
“I love you. I’ll do anything to protect you.” Jack closed his eyes as Gabriel lunged, his mouth closing around the artery in the side of Jack’s neck.
He hissed, fight or flight instincts kicking in as Gabriel’s fangs sank into his throat. He resisted the urge to panic. The sharp fangs punctured his throat and retracted. Blood gushed into Gabriel’s mouth. He growled, sucking at the wound. Jack grabbed the back of Gabriel’s head.
Most Hunters swore getting bitten by any vampire-like creature was like getting impaled by knives. But after the initial pain, it wasn’t bad. Like a pair of shots. After the bite itself, it felt like bleeding out. He’d done plenty of that in his life. Jack pet the back of Gabriel’s head. Normally, he only needed a mouthful or two, but he was taking a lot.
“Gabriel,” he whispered, getting dizzy. “Gabriel… that’s enough.”
The hand on his wrist tightened its grip. Gabriel snarled, biting into Jack’s neck and forcing blood out faster. Jack’s eyes fluttered closed.
“Gabe!” Jesse yipped. “Stop!”
Jack opened his eyes as Gabriel’s head snapped up. He snarled at Jesse, baring his fangs, claws extending. No. He couldn’t go after Jesse. The kid didn’t stand a chance. Jack reached up and took Gabriel’s face in his hands. Gabriel looked down at him, hair falling into his face. His eyes had a wild, haunted look in them.
“I’m here, cariño,” Jack whispered. His voice sounded weaker than he imagined. “I’ve got you. It’s okay.”
Gabriel ignored Jesse and latched back onto the bloody throat. Jack pet his back with a shaking hand. A wave of drowsiness lapped at his mind. He was so tired. He’d been hunting down Gabriel and Jesse’s kidnappers for a week without rest. A beating had knocked the fight out of him. He just waited to lay here with his husband and sleep. That sounded wonderful.
“Tired,” he whispered in Gabriel’s ear. “Just going to….” His hand dropped away and flopped to the ground. “Rest for a minute.”
“Jack!” Jesse’s voice was far away.
“It’s so’kay,” he slurred, closing his eyes. “You’re both safe. That’s all that….”
~
Everything swayed. He felt weak. No, not exactly weak. More like he wasn’t made of solid matter. It felt like he was a balloon, trying to float away but held down. Was this death? Strange. Wasn’t anything like humans had said it would be.
“Jack.”
Someone was calling his name? He should answer. But he was so warm and cozy. He just wanted to sleep.
“Jack, please.”
Well, they had said please. He groaned, trying to force his eyes open. It felt like his eyelids were full of lead. There was a sharp intake of breath. Something hot appeared on his cheek. Jack nuzzled into it.
“Please, open your eyes.”
Slowly, Jack did as he was told. His eyes took forever to open. His vision was fuzzy and dark. As it cleared, he realized it wasn’t dark, but that someone was leaning over him. He tried to blink the sleep from his eyes. Warm lips pressed against his forehead and kissed him.
“Thank the Mother you’re alive.”
Jack racked his foggy mind. Who was Mother? The warm hand brushed his hair back. Jack blinked up at Gabriel. His mouth and chin where bloody, but he looked good. His skin seemed to glow with health, his curls were silky and inviting. Jack smiled.
“You’re beautiful.”
“And you’re an idiot,” Gabriel snapped. “A simple minded, stubborn, idiot!”
Jack closed his eyes and tried to remember why Gabriel would be mad at him. Jack had trailed the bastards that had taken them and then—Oh yes. “Did you get enough to eat?”
Gabriel’s eyes widened and his nose crinkled as he pulled his lips back into a snarl. “I almost killed you!”
Jack closed his eyes and smiled. “But you didn’t.”
“I should have,” Gabriel snarled, clutching Jack to his chest and rocking them back and forth. “I should have and I don’t know how I didn’t, you stupid, stupid fool. Don’t ever do that to me again! Don’t you ever try to give your life for a monster!”
Jack reached up and smacked him. Or rather, tired to smack him. He was too tired to put much effort behind the blow. It got the desired effect. Gabriel stared at him.
“You are not a monster,” Jack growled. “Don’t ever say that again.”
“Jack—”
He slapped him again. “I called you that terrible word when you’d done nothing to deserve it. I killed and tortured because someone told me those like you were monsters. But the only monster here is me.”
Gabriel grabbed Jack’s hand when he went for another slap.
“No.”
Jack blinked at him. No what?
Gabriel brought their foreheads together. “A monster is unrepentant. It harms with no conscience, no reason. It does not feel guilt or remorse. Your heart feels everything. You are no monster.”
“Gabriel….” Jack rested his head on his husband’s chest. “You are too kind to this old man.”
“You are my mate, Jack.” Gabriel kissed his forehead. “I would not have fallen in love with you if you were a monster.”
Jack was too tired to fight him. Barely, he registered that Gabriel had lifted him up and was carrying him. His pride quailed at the idea that he would be carried anywhere while conscious. He silenced that part of his mind. Jesse was all right. Gabriel wasn’t moments from death. So what if his husband had to carry him? He turned his head into Gabriel’s chest with a smile. Their family was together again. Nothing else mattered.
