(This is a separate universe from my Dancing with the Devil Vamp!Rhys and just a little blurb I made for my Spooky Season AU list)
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“Nece ne neceris”
The words are carved above the altar, painted in glittering gold. The congregation repeats them in a drowning, lifeless chant that echoes off the church’s ancient walls.
“Kill lest you be killed.”
Death is your family’s sacrement. Blood their offering. The wooden stake pressed into your shaking hands the tools for Holy Judgement this side of Eternity. They’ve inked the words into your flesh, hammered them into your soul. This is your purpose; this is your Divine Right.
“Nece ne neceris,” you repeat, loud enough to be heard over the chanting. For milenia the night has belonged to the Dead, to the damned and the wicked alike, but tonight, tonight it belongs to you. Your footsteps echo against the church’s worn floors, the doors creak open in a ghostly howl as you step out into the moonlight.
You are not prey.
You are not afraid.
The night belongs to the hunters. And you will be the best of them.
The congregation follows you only to the doorway, their sacred cowls obscuring their faces, though you feel their eyes all the same as you step out into the gravel walkway that leads to your crumbling parish. The empire of hunters died a long time ago. Time can only hold onto the mortal for a heartbeat before it loses its grip. Hunters are a dying breed, to be crowned one is to meet Death with open arms. Death who took your father, your brothers; Death who claimed your city and your home. This little steeple and the stake in your hands is all you have left. You’ll be damned if you don’t fight to keep it.
“Nece ne neceris,” you chant as their voices grow dim. “I will not die today.”
The path from the church leads into the woods, the dense, overgrown trees soon shrouding out the moonlight. From far off the hooting of an owl tells you that nothing hunts to the north. Your prey is downwind tonight, which means they already have your scent. The church often claimed hunters smelled different than normal humans, though you had never decided if you believed it. Although, you suppose, there is only one way to find out…
You walk deeper, until all light disappears within the forest canopy overhead. Then you take the sharpened tip of the stake and slide it across your palm. Crimson blooms from the shallow wound, pebbling off your skin into the rocky earth beneath you. You close your fist and squeeze, wincing slightly against the burn, as you draw more out.
“Come on out,” you whisper to the darkness.
It starts as a gust of wind, a rustling of leaves on branches, though there is no howl of the wind. The hair on the back of your neck rises as you spin to face it, stake raised and ready.
“Nece ne neceris,” you remind yourself as you crouch, ready to fight. There is nothing for you to see in the darkness, but you know that it is there. Eyes watch your every breath with the stillness of a lion tracking a wounded deer.
“What a brave little hunter,” a voice purrs in your head, the sound decidedly male.
The stake slips from shaking hands, clattering into the blood you’re still dripping into the earth. “What are you?”
“They didn’t warn you?” The voice purrs and there’s another gust of wind at your back, making you spin to face it, ready to meet the gaping maw of your enemy, but there is nothing there.
“I can do many things,” It says with a voice made for the gentle darkness of a bedroom. You can practically feel its hot breath on your neck. “I can be your greatest desire, your sweetest sin.”
To pick up your weapon, you have to bend down, take your eyes off the trees and pray you’re fast enough to grasp it before the thing lunges for your throat. Your training has been extensive, but you are no match for something of this speed, it’ll have your heart in its hands before you can blink.
“Or I can be your worst nightmare. What will it be, little hunter?”
Your heart hammers like the church bells in your ears. “Come here and find out!”
There’s not even time to blink, time to scream before an icy hand grabs you by the throat and slams you into the nearest tree. You reach out to claw at it, but your nails break against skin that might as well be solid adamant. Your lungs ache, constricting so tight dark spots start to swirl across your vision.
“Disappointing,” it purrs at you. Vampire eyes are supposed to be yellow. The church’s paintings depict them with dark veins twining around their gleaming eyes like streaks of lightning. Those marks are there, but these eyes are so blue they’re nearly violet.
You lash out with a booted foot, trying desperately to free yourself from the crushing grip on your windpipe, but even though the blow makes contact, the creature doesn’t flinch. He grins in fact, elongated canines gleaming past his full lips.
“I was hoping to have some fun,” he pouts.
The spots swirling across your vision grow bigger with each passing second his vice-like grip remains clamped down around your throat. No amount of kicking or punching will free you from your suffering.
“Your little parish sent you to die, you know that, don’t you?” He says.
You can only gasp for air, choking out every fleeing breath.
“Oh, right,” he releases you as quickly as he’d grabbed you and your body slides limply into the earth, air rushing into your lungs as you cough and sputter. “I forget how fragile you humans are.”
“Fuck you!” You snarl at him in between breaths.
He chuckles at your disdain. “You have spirit at least.”
Your stake is too far away, lying there in the mud, taunting you with your failure. “Just kill me and get it over with!”
He crouches, eyes gleaming in his tan face. For an Undead monster, he’s ridiculously handsome, the sharp angles of him clean enough to have been sculpted from marble. Dark hair falls in soft ways across his temples. He looks nothing like the horrific monsters you’ve been told about.
“Oh I don’t want to kill you, Little Hunter,” he purrs. “I have plans for you.”
Time slows as you watch him rip his fangs through his own palm, and then speeds up all too quickly as he leans forward and presses his hand against your lips. His other hand cradles the back of your head, holding you in place as he forces the copper tinted liquid down your throat. His strength is unparalleled, there was no way you were ever beating him with that pathetic little stake.
Only when he’s satisfied that you’ve taken enough down does he remove his hand. You spit it back out at him as best you can, but there is no denying that there was some that made it down the back of your throat. He only chuckles his amusement as his hands move to grip your head, and then twist, and the world goes black in an instant.
It might be hours later. Days. You awaken to find yourself lying on your back, nothing but glittering starlight above you. Your whole body aches, bones feeling like they’re trying to stretch right out of your skin. The slight flutter of the breeze against you feels like a thousand nails scratching across your skin. And your throat! It’s never been so dry!
You sit up slowly, groaning. Your neck hurts the worst, then your jaw, as if your teeth are suddenly too large in your mouth. When you raise a finger to poke at your tender gums, the sharp tips of your canines break open your skin.
“Finally! I was starting to think you were actually dead.”
You’re on your feet in an instant, hands twitching at your sides. That thing leans against a tree, arms crossed over his broad chest, violet eyes watching you intently. “What the fuck did you do to me?!”
He smirks as he pushes off the tree and stalks over to you, every move languid and powerful, like a large cat. “I saved you.” He purrs.
“You…” you run your hand over your teeth again, once again tearing skin over the two sets of fangs sitting in your mouth. This cannot be happening to you! “You ruined me! You made me like you!”
He shakes his head as he crowds into your space, face inches from yours. “Nece ne neceris.”
You are dead, there is no blood in your body to run cold, yet your limbs stiffen anyway.
“I was you, Little One,” he says, his voice a husky whisper. “They sent me out to die, just as they have you.”
“No!” You snarl, body moving with inhumane speed to swing at his head.
He catches you by the wrist and twists so that you're pinned with your back to his chest. He runs his lips over the shell over your ear. “Don’t worry, I’ll show you what you need to do to make them pay.”
Nine of Swords, Upright: sleepless nights, worry and anxiety.
Vampire Hunter!Jake x Witch!OC
Authors Note: Hey y’all!! I hope everyone enjoys the next chapter in Jake’s story! Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list! If you need to catch up on the Prologue, do so here.
*Set prior to the events of I See Hell in Your Eyes. This is the beginning of Jake’s story. This can be read independently from ISHIYE but there will be cross references as it’s in the same universe.
Word Count: 3.5K
Warnings: Not very many just some swearing.
Description: When a young affluent hunter finds himself taking an unexpected detour in Tucson, Arizona, he finds himself drawn to a local dive bar with a rather ecclectic clientele, situated on an equally intriguing location adjacent to a cemetery. Cemeteries are neutral ground, so even if he found a Vampire to snuff out, he couldn’t. Especially with the owner of the bar being a Witch and watching him like a hawk.
Jake’s dreams were always distinctly under two categories: either he’d find his dream self walking down an empty city street, head on a swivel for any Vampiric activity, trailing one he had found earlier that kept evading him. Or, he’d wake up in his childhood bedroom, realize that he was seven years old again, hearing footsteps in the hallway growing closer.
His mind would not let go of the night that Vampire broke in and found the twins’ room first on the upper floor. The Vampire’s appearance had morphed over the years, steadily gaining more grotesque. But the feeling of its mangled and dirty fingers tangling in his hair and violently pulling upwards, sending white hot pain into the boys’ scalp as his feet lifted off the ground, was always the same.
This night was no exception, and unfortunately for the young hunter it was the latter scenario.
A distant creak of the hardwood floors down the hallway always startles him awake. His large and curious brown eyes would always pop open at the sound, and he’d strain his ears to try to figure out who was walking towards his shared room with Josh. It couldn’t have been his little brother Sam; he was too light to make the floorboards move like that. Josh was snoring above him, oblivious to everything, so that ruled out him. Maybe his parents? But he could hear the heavy thuds of shoes as the sound got closer, and why would his parents have their shoes on in the middle of the night? The realization that it was someone else in the house besides his family made his blood run cold and had him pulling his covers up to his chin as he tried to make himself as small as possible on the bottom bunk.
A few agonizing minutes later, the footsteps were right outside his door, and his younger self was stiff as a board, bracing himself for whomever would enter. Sure enough, the doorknob would slowly twist and a stream of light from the hallway would stream in as the door opened. All he saw before he screwed his eyes shut was a large, intimidating silhouette peering into his room. Jake tried to keep his breathing even, not wanting to give it away that he was awake. The intruder made his way into their room, kicking a few toys out of the way in the process. He could feel their presence near his bed, and it took everything in him to not flinch at the putrid breath that was being exhaled into his face.
But Jake was a frightened child, and his instinct was to get to his brother as quickly as possible. When the creature whispered, “jackpot…” his eyes shot open and he opened his mouth to yell for his twin, all while trying to scramble down his bed and make it to the ladder leading up to Josh’s bunk. His tiny hand had just reached one of the bottom bars when the all too familiar sensation of fingers in his hair and being yanked backwards and upwards rattled his system. Distantly he would hear his brother startle awake and barely touching the ladder as he flew down to come to his rescue.
The creature paid Josh no mind while he lifted up the younger boy to his eye level, his mouth twisting into a sadistic smile and revealing the long jagged fangs that extended from his gums.
A Vampire had somehow broken into their extensively guarded house.
Jake kicked and squirmed midair, trying to get the Vampire to drop him, but it was no use. The creature stared into his eyes, hunger clearly on his mind. The young boy couldn’t take it anymore and as he clawed at the Vampire’s wrist he took a deep breath and released a shrill, high pitched shriek that rattled the-
The now adult Jake shot up in bed, silver knife white knuckled in his fist. Through his own personal training, he had taught himself how to sleep with his hand curled around a knife under his pillow, and not letting go of it until he was awake.
His skin was damp and clammy, feeling especially chilled from the ceiling fan spinning above. In spite of this sweat gathered on his hairline, threatening to spill down his face. His eyes darted around the room for any threats, as if he was ready to face off with the Vampire from his memory. But the hunter was alone in the tiny motel room, and when he deduced this he rolled out of bed, still holding the knife. He padded over to the sink in the miniscule kitchenette and poured a glass of water from the sink. He gulped it down but it took two more glasses to finally get some relief in his dry throat.
After setting the glass down and abandoning it next to the sink he went around the room to check his security measures. His crossbow lay still on the other side of the bed, with a wooden arrow locked and loaded, ready to be grabbed at a moment's notice. With Josh off doing whatever it was he was doing, the weapon was the closest thing he had to a partner in crime.
The solitary window was covered by curtains, and Jake carefully pulled back one of the panels to look out onto the parking lot. The sun was freshly risen, giving him solace in the fact that his ultimate threats were locked inside and away from the light. Sunrises had always been Jake’s favorite for this reason. His shoulders relaxed as he opened the curtains as far as he could, letting in as much natural light as possible. Now that he was awake and definitely not going back to sleep any time soon, he turned his attention to getting a shower and washing off nightmares as best he could.
~!~
It had been over four days now, and Jake still could not get his night at The Tipsy Tumbleweed out of his head. He went to other bars around town to kill time, but all of them were so basic to him. They were too loud, or the drinks sucked, or the TV’s weren’t on anything interesting, or the bartenders would try way too hard to flirt with him for better tips. He wanted to go back, he wanted to see her, he wanted to at least get her name.
But Jake was full of an unfamiliar feeling of intimidation he wasn’t used to. He couldn’t remember the last time he had walked into a situation where he wasn’t the top dog, even when surrounded by Damned corpses who were decades older than him. His exposure to other supernatural creatures was limited. Growing up the focus was so heavily on Vampire’s that he rarely took the time to learn much about others. He usually just relied on Sam to info dump about whatever creature he was obsessed with that month and he’d tuck any useful information into the back of his mind and kept on moving.
Sam’s best friend happened to be a Werewolf, which was a secret that all three Kiszka boys kept to themselves out of respect for Danny, who always seemed like a good kid regardless of his DNA. The twins were just glad that their little brother had finally made a true friend, which was something they always worried about given Sam’s nerdy and introverted nature. The change in Sam after that first summer with Danny was like night and day, and his confidence and ego hadn’t stopped growing since. It was a gift and a curse, Josh would say in exasperation.
Witches however? Jake hadn’t truly met one in person before. He knew of them, and had gotten a few lectures on how to watch out for them. His mother in particular emphasized that they were simply untrustworthy and never expounded beyond that. Once again his brother would fill in the blanks sometimes. He mentioned a few who had gone to his university but he wasn’t particularly close to them. That hadn’t stopped Josh from making cracks about Sam going to Hogwarts whenever he got the chance, or asking if he had any classes with Hermione. This usually resulted in the nearest object thrown in the oldest sibling's direction.
The most Jake knew about them was that they were definitely not human, and most had innate abilities that were passed down via genetics. Covens were a thing but not a requirement, and most were very secretive as to what they got up to. One thing Jake would never openly admit is when he was out of his depth on something, but he couldn’t just accept defeat like this and twiddle his thumbs until he could get out of town.
Which was why he was sitting in the parking lot of The Tipsy Tumbleweed, staring at the entrance from the drivers side of his shitty rental. He mulled over the vague threat she had given him days prior. She didn’t say he couldn’t come back…just that he couldn’t come back and pull any shit. He could do that. He could just walk in, sit down and be good. He could potentially apologize.
The hunter repeated these affirmations to himself as he walked inside, immediately greeted by the familiar music, the glow of the various neon signs, and the scowl of the owner of the bar he was standing in.
She was behind the bar, writing something in a notebook of hers on the bar top when those big hazel eyes looked up and locked onto him. It took a conscious effort on Jake’s part to not trip over his own feet under her gaze.
He settled on the bar stool directly in front of her without a word, and the two stared at each other wondering who would flinch first. Her hazel irises were all he could focus on, and he took the opportunity to map out the different ways the green blended into light brown.
“Are you going to behave tonight?”
“Is there any reason I shouldn’t?”
Her right eyebrow slowly raised, “not in my bar there isn’t.”
The hunter nodded at the Witch, falling back into silence.
She reached to her left and brought a low ball glass in front of her on the bar and her other hand grabbed a bottle of whiskey and poured about two fingers worth into the glass. It was the same order from that first night, this time untampered with.
“We’re going to try this again, but if you even look at Lou for too long I’ll physically toss you out myself.”
The hunter's eyes swiveled slightly to the right, his peripheral catching sight of the Vampire who was focused on the TV. Jake quickly snapped his eyes back to the bar owner’s,
“Got it,” he replied in an obedient tone that he rarely spoke in.
She nodded and replied, “Good. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some regulars to greet.”
The Witch turned on her heel and walked out from around the bar, passing behind Jake and making her way to one of the two-top tables towards the front of the bar. As she passed, a sweet yet earthy scent wafted around him. Was that her perfume? He pondered. Or was that just her?
He racked his brain as he tore his eyes away from the swing of her hips and turned back to his glass. Whiskey was always his go-to at bars, because no one could truly fuck it up, but in truth, he was a Pinot Noir guy. It started when he was a teenager and the only alcohol he could get his hands on was the wine in the basement. His parents collected bottles from their travels and had so many at this point that they never actually drank that Jake sneaking a bottle or two every so often went unnoticed. He quickly figured out what he liked so by the time he was actually of age it became his private staple.
Jake continued to fire off questions in his head as he outwardly minded his own business.
He was brought back to reality when a familiar young voice answered, “her name is Cecilia, by the way.”
Jake looked up and saw the young bartender named Stacey standing in front of him.
“How did you-”
Her eyes went wide once again, just like that first night, “oh shit I’m so sorry! Sometimes it's hard to differentiate people’s inner voices from their outer voices and it sounds like someone asked me something out loud and-”
Jake raised his hands slightly off the bar, palms facing outwards to show he wasn’t mad, “hey, you didn’t do anything wrong it’s ok.”
Her face relaxed slightly, but she was still clearly embarrassed, “Cecilia’s been helping me get better at it but I still fuck up some times.”
Jake looked at her with warm eyes, “I’m assuming that you heard me thinking about him,” he cocked his head in Lou’s direction, “and went off and told her the other night?”
She looked down at the bar top and fiddled with her fingers, “yeah…we’ve just never had any trouble in here before and Lou is just really special to us and I didn’t want anything to happen to him.”
Stacey kept her voice low, as to not let Lou hear her saying that he was special to her. However, it didn’t work and the Vampire kept facing the TV and he suppressed a small smile while his face turned pink.
“Well you don’t have to worry about me, I'm not going to mess with him.”
“I guess that truth serum worked,” she looked up, trying not to smile.
Now it was Jake’s turn to look embarrassed, “yeah…yeah it did.”
“Well she’s still letting you sit here so she can’t be too mad still.”
“I’m on thin ice but I promise I’m just here cause I like the place, that's all.”
Stacey looked down and saw that Jake’s glass was empty, “do you want another drink?”
Jake looked down at the glass, but decided to do something different tonight, “do you have a good Pinot here?”
She looked at him blankly, “wine?”
“Yes…”
“Umm…I think we have a few bottles in the back.” She turned and disappeared behind the Employee door.
Jake sat there softly tapping his thumbs on the edge of the bar, inwardly hating that he was making a fuss over something as arbitrary as a drink. It was another reason why he always fell back on his “usual.” He hated being “that guy” in situations.
After a few minutes the young bartender busted through the Employee door and nearly jogged over to Jake’s spot at the bar. It was clear she wasn’t used to using a corkscrew, but after cussing a little under her breath the cork popped from the bottle. She threw Jake a triumphant smile as she poured him a glass.
“Thank you, Stacey,” he said warmly.
“Any time,” she replied before leaving the bar area to ask if anyone else needed refills or new drinks around the bar.
He studied the glass closely, grasping it by the stem and tilting it to the side and then back again to see what kind of legs it had before bringing it to his nose to see what flavors he could pick up. The alcohol itself was pretty strong, but he had had worse. It was medium bodied, with tannins that weren’t too overpowering due to the bright acidity from the-
“Are you detecting the grapes?”
A silky voice startled him and his eyes left the glass to look in front of him. It was Cecilia. His face reddened slightly, again, but her face broke into a smile as she wrote some figures down in the notebook she had placed on the bar.
“Oh umm-”
“Relax, I’m just fucking with you,” her smile stayed fixed on her face and Jake felt his shoulders relax. He hadn’t even realized how tense they had been. “You’re the first customer to order any of the wine we have, by the way.”
“I imagine people aren’t really thirsty for wine right off the highway,” the hunter said as he took his first sip. Oh, that’s not too bad, he thought, surprised at the texture and flavor of the wine.
The Witch nodded, “yeah people are more interested in their usual beers or liquor. You know the whole, ‘candy is dandy but liquor is quicker’ mentality.”
The corners of Jake’s mouth almost turned into a smile, “my brother likes to say that a lot.”
Cecilia’s eyebrows raised in curiosity, “you have a brother?”
Jake nodded, “three, actually. Two are biologically siblings and the other one we all kind of adopted over the years. He’s a good kid.”
She smiled, “oh that’s nice. Are they all hunters too?”
“Only one of them is; Josh.”
“Is he older or-?”
Jake grimaced slightly, “well…older…by five minutes. The other two are younger than me.”
Her lips formed an O, “so you’re a middle child? I can see that with you.”
Had it been anyone else, Jake would’ve gotten offended by that, but he let it slide for Cecilia.
“Only technically.”
“I can’t relate, I just have a little sister, Astrid. Or Ass-strid as I called her growing up.”
At this point they were both smiling softly at each other.
“What’s she like?” Jake asked before taking another sip of wine.
The Witch started to roll her eyes but stopped, “oh she’s the picture perfect Witch my mother always wanted, except that neither one of us inherited Moms psychic abilities. Astrid can enter people’s dreams, which was so fun growing up.” This time Cecilia let herself complete the eyeroll.
Jake’s eyes softened as he looked at her, the question clear in his expression.
“As for me, I do this…,” her eyes swiveled down towards Lou, who was once again minding his own business. His usual glass sat idly as he paid attention to the commercial on the TV, and immediately slid down the bar towards the Witch like a hockey puck, directly into her curled hand.
Lou was unimpressed and let out a short, “hey,” towards her and she sent the glass back, not spilling a drop.
Jake had never seen a telekinetic in person before, and sat there dumbfounded.
“Wow…” was all he could say.
She shrugged, “I can also read Tarot pretty well.”
Something inside the hunter was very interested in it all. Witches were something that weren’t brought up a lot, and when they were it was never in a positive light. He was mainly taught to focus on the Undead more than any other creature.
“...and your mom?”
Cecilia leaned in towards the hunter, closer than she had been before and whispered, “my mom talks to dead people.”
Jake blinked at her.
“She heads a Necromancy coven in Northern California where I grew up,” the Witch leaned back towards her side of the bar, “it's not as exciting as you think.”
He wanted to ask more questions, but the way Cecilia’s expression soured at the mention of her mother gave him enough of a hint to drop that part of the subject.
“How did you end up in Arizona?”
This time, her eyes softened wistfully, “my dad was from here.”
The word ‘was’ stuck out to him.
“Oh yeah?”
She nodded, “yeah.”
The two stared at each other, allowing the silence to wash over them. Jake swallowed the last of his wine, and before he could open his mouth another question was thrown his way.
“I just realized I am a terrible bar owner and have been talking to you this whole time without getting your actual name?”
Jake smirked, his eyes staring into hers, and slowly extended his hand over the bar, “Jake Kiszka, hunter of the Undead and at your service.”
The Witch held out her hand and wrapped it around his to shake. The warmth of his skin rippled up her own arm, over her shoulder and down her back, settling at the base of her spine
“I hope you don’t tell your baristas that,” she retorted with a crinkle in her nose, “Cecilia Addington, bar owner with First Born Daughter problems.”
Jake never wanted to let go of her hand. The firm grip of her fingers and the softness of her skin had his head spinning.
He wanted to know if all of her skin was just as soft.
Reluctantly, they both dropped their hands at the same time each taking a second to flex their hands under the bar out of each other's sight.
Jake was the one to speak first, “so how does-“
“No more questions until you buy another drink, Jake.”
The butterflies from sixth grade swarmed in his gut at the sound of her saying his name.
She turned her head and gave Stacey a Look and a nod towards the hunter, before giving Jake one last smile before slinking around the bar to greet a few patrons that had just walked through the door. Jake watched her the whole time, listening to the volume of her voice and appreciating the fact that she was a hugger just like he was. Fuck.
