#vampire snippet

[chaotic-orphan]

The Immortal Hunter (6)

Read part one here // continued from here

*~*~*~*~*

Heath didn’t leave Killian’s side for a week after Felix’s party. On the third day that Killian stepped outside his quaint cottage on the edge of town, he smiled, bemused at the vampire who lingered on the stone wall across from his house.

“Do vampires sleep?” Killian asked that morning. Heath nodded along, enjoying the conversations he had with the human. It had been a while since he let himself have a friend, let alone a human one.

“Yes. We can sleep. I enjoy sleeping, I just don’t need to do it. Vampires are crepuscular creatures anyways so we—”

“Crepe— what?”

Heath blinked. “Oh, sorry. We’re nocturnal. We sleep at day and wake up naturally at night for the hunt. The opposite to humans who sleep at night and wake during the day.”

Killian hummed. “Felix isn’t nocturnal,” he said quietly.

Heath’s haze hardened as they came up to the gates of Felix’s estate. “No. Felix is an exception to many rules.”

Felix raised an eyebrow when Heath opened the door of the state house, Killian following behind. His cat-like eyes drifted lazily to the clock, a minute before the start of Killian’s shift. Hmph.

Felix greeted them in his usual cheerful way. Killian nodded stiffly, responding politely before dismissing himself to get to work. That left Heath as the object of Felix’s attention.

“You seem to have taken a liking to my darling pet,” Felix told him with a smile.

“He’s your employee, not your pet.”

“Well, he’s not as fun as you were. You could do it all. Employee, human punching bag, entertainment, blood source.”

Heath bristled when Felix slung a lithe arm around his shoulders, guiding him into Felix’s study. It was a beautiful room, and Heath could see why Felix spent most of his time in here. The walls on either side were fitted with mahogany shelves, lined with at least two hundred titles, all of which Felix had read. Some that even Heath read after Felix taught him how.

Dark oak wooden floors boxed in the lush, burgundy carpet that ran the length of the floor; the middle strip where Felix’s cherrywood desk stood proud, commanding the space. Behind the desk was the giant gothic window that opened out into the grounds behind the house. Heath remembered when he was helping the stable hand attend to the horses, feeling eyes on him and looking up to see Felix observing him from his study window. His proud head held high, arms behind his back, and even from the vast distance Heath could still feel Felix’s hungry, predatory grin on his face.

“Whiskey, darling?” Felix asked, disentangling himself from Heath and walking over to his decanter beside the two armchairs off to the left of the room, near the exposed fireplace.

“Why not.” Heath said with a shrug, following him to the armchairs and settling into one, staring into the flames of the fire. “You can’t touch Killian, Felix,” Heath said, the fire dancing in the reflection of his eyes.

The vampire paused his movements for a brief moment, a cunning smile gracing his lips. “Mmm. I love it when you’re bossy.”

“I mean it,” Heath told him, taking the glass of whiskey with a pointed look. Felix ignored it as he sat in the other armchair, staring into the flames. “The Hunter is protective of him, and if you get between that… he’ll rip you apart.”

“As if you wouldn’t love that,” Felix purred. “Such a shame that you’re leaving us to return your green hills of old.”

Heath bristled, shifting to get more comfortable. He felt Felix’s cat like eyes on him, studying him, everything he did or didn’t do.

“Well… I think I might be sticking around for a bit.”

“For how long?” Felix didn’t give him the time to answer, humming to himself, swirling the honey-coloured liquid in his glass. “Wait, no. Let me guess. Around… 80 years?”

Heath took a sip instead of answering.

Felix laughed. “And if I turn him before then?” He asked, his voice low and sultry. Heath looked at the vampire, letting his emotions pass over his face. “I guess you’d have to stay around forever, love.”

“Don’t test me, Felix.”

“Oh come on. You just need a little blood in you. Then you’ll lighten up.” Felix said. “I have blood on tap if you want it.”

“I’m about two seconds away from ripping your throat out.”

Felix waved him away. “You old flirt, you. Though, we do have to discuss your living arrangements if you are to stay here with me.”

“I’ll find somewhere in the village.”

“Nonsense.”

“I’d rather not stay here, Felix.”

“Well… that just won’t do, will it?” Felix asked, his bright eyes basking in Heath’s attention. “I’ll tell you what, darling. Because we’re such old friends, and because I understand that that monster inside of you will protect Killian at all costs, I have a proposition for you.”

Heath scoffed, nostrils flaring, because he knew exactly what Felix’s propositions were. Heath turned his eyes back to the flames, wondering vaguely if setting himself on fire would hurt less than whatever evil Felix had concocted in his mind. “Is this one I can refuse?”

“Of course, love. I’m not unreasonable. You always had a choice.”

Heath downed the rest of the liquid in his glass, savouring the burn in the back of his throat. “Alright.”

“I won’t touch a pretty little hair on Killian’s head, he will be the most protected human in the village. I’ll even spare his little family my wrath too.”

Heath nodded. “Okay.”

“But you have to understand, that that would mean I would be extremely bored, and you know how I get when I’m bored… so either, wow, look at me. Giving you options aren’t I so generous? The years have made me soft, Heath. Or maybe that was just your effect on me.”

“Either?…” Heath echoed, imploringly. Felix exposed his fangs over his lips, knowing he had Heath right where he wanted him.

Felix kissed his teeth, tsking Heath lightly as he stepped around to the back of Heath’s chair, slinking his arms over Heath possessively.

“You’re no fun, darling,” he said with a playful pout, lips beside Heath’s ear. Heath raised a hand, wrapping his fingers around Felix’s wrist, trying to dislodge the touchy vampire from him, but Felix just clamped down harder around Heath. “And you forget, I’m stronger than you,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to Heath’s temple.

Heath huffed out a breath. “Either?” Heath repeated, defeated.

“Either, you take up your old position for me, in place of Killian. You provide me with all the joy and entertainment you used to before,” Felix murmured, smiling when he felt Heath shiver under him at the mention of entertainment. “Come back under contract for me, and work for me again…”

Felix trailed off, running a hand through Heath’s hair and pulling his head back and to the side, grazing his fangs along Heath’s throat. “Or you go out and you enthral a sweet little human for me to play with while you protect poor little Killian.”

Heath stiffened under Felix, his grip turning white knuckled on the glass. The sound of glass cracking punctured the silence between them until Felix tutted and Heath relaxed his grip.

“That’s—” Heath stuttered. “You know that’s not even an option.”

“But it is, love. I’ve always given you the choice.”

“The illusion of choice,” Heath spat, his words coated with a helpless venom. Felix’s free hand roamed to Heath’s chest over where his heart used to beat.

“Well, if it makes you feel better, I’m making concessions too. It’s so much more fun to terrify humans, the taste of their fear, the pounding of blood.” Felix tightened his hand over Heath’s heart, puncturing his chest with his claws. Heath jerked forward with a hiss, but Felix pulled him gently back. “Though I’m sure I could make do with having you by my side again. You always were my favourite, you know.”

If Heath had a heart, he knew it would be racing a drumbeat in his chest. His lungs would tighten in his chest, pulsing against his ribs at the panic that threatened to overwhelm him at Felix’s generous offer.

“And if I refuse?”

Felix sighed against Heath, nuzzling his nose into Heath’s throat. “Then I’d have to use Killian in your place.”

Heath froze under Felix. Felix’s fangs traced a line down Heath’s throat, already knowing what Heath was going to choose.

“I hate you.”

“I know, little one.”

Heath’s fingers curled into fists, useless. He knew coming back here was a bad idea, a terrible idea, but to think that Felix would trap him again like this? He got out, why did he come back?! Why!

“We make a blood pact,” Heath demanded, tightening his free hand into a fist on the armchair.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, darling.” Heath’s breath hitched as Felix’s fang drew a bead of blood in his throat. “Can I take that as a yes?”

Heath deflated in the armchair. He swallowed thickly.

“Yes.”

Felix hummed, delighted and sank his fangs into Heath’s throat. Heath bucked against him, trying to dislodge the ancient vampire from his neck, but Felix held him down with ease as if Heath still had the strength of a human. Heath hated the way he could feel Felix’s fangs draw the limited blood from his system, weakening him the more he drank.

Felix moaned happily against Heath, drinking every last drop with all the greed he wanted to. Heath was a vampire, he wouldn’t die if he was drained dry. Felix didn’t know why he didn’t think of this before. All the worries and limitations of humans could be mitigated with a vampire slave.

It was only when Heath let out a small keening whine that Felix pulled away, licking the wounds to seal them and stop Heath bleeding out. He didn’t even have to do that, it was more like a reflex than anything else.

Heath’s vision blurred, feeling lightheaded as Felix pulled away. He dropped the glass to the floor, which Felix caught before it hit the ground. The vampire set the two glasses on a table between the armchairs, smiling at Heath who was glaring weakly up at him through half lidded eyes. The venom must still have an effect on Heath’s body. Something Felix noted and stored away in the back of his mind.

“Oh, look at you,” Felix cooed, booping Heath on the nose. “Still as adorable as the first day I found you.”

“Fuh—ck you.”

“Still as feisty too.”

Heath tried to sit up, but his body felt as if it was cemented down to the chair in lead. Fuck. He hadn’t felt this powerless since… since he couldn’t remember when. He watched through half-lidded eyes as Felix cut a line over his wrist and Heath tried to push himself forward to reach the vampires arm. He had to drink Felix’s blood for the pact to be binding, to protect Killian if Heath agreed to be Felix’s fucking slave again.

Felix held his wrist out of Heath’s reach, his bright eyes shining as he watched Heath struggle and pant against Felix’s venom. “Come on, Heath. Just a little further,” he coaxed.

Heath shook his head, trying to shake off the numbness that kept his body still as the grave. He grunted with the effort, slamming his eyes shut as he moved forward, the world spinning as he fought against the compulsion to keep him docile.

“Come on, Heath,” Felix taunted. “Don’t you want to save that poor human’s miserable existence?”

Heath finally grabbed Felix’s arm at the elbow, pulling it down towards his mouth. Just before his fangs lowered, however, the wound healed and Heath glared up at the ancient vampire unimpressed.

A cold hand stroked Heath’s jaw. “Come on, darling. We both know it’s more fun to just take what you want.”

Heath swallowed, and bite Felix’s wrist, his fangs sinking deep into the flesh and drawing the old, recycled blood from Felix’s wrist. The blood tasted putrid and wrong, but Felix practically moaned above Heath as he pulled more and more blood from the vampire’s body.

A hand wound itself tightly through Heath’s hair and yanked back suddenly, pulling Heath off of Felix with a gasp. He coughed and spluttered, trying to get the horrible, acrid taste from his mouth, wiping the back of his mouth with his hand. Heath glared up at Felix who grinned, showing his fangs down at Heath.

“Good,” Felix murmured, thumbing away a drop of blood that was dripping down the corner of Heath’s mouth. “Now, dear. Only one thing left to do,” he said, and sliced his left palm, the gash going deep. Before Heath could protest Felix grabbed his wrist and did the same, before joining their hands together.

Heath hissed as he could feel the pact take hold between them, burning through his palm to the back of his hand. Tendrils of black ink-like blood traced a beautiful pattern from the back of his hand, up his arm and locking like barbed wire over his heart. He lurched forward, clutching his chest with his free hand, trying to pull his hand back from Felix’s, but Felix clamped his fingers down around Heath’s until the process was complete.

The ink-like blood seeped into Heath’s skin, burning all the way through until he was a sweaty, trembling mess, his hands still held by Felix’s. Felix’s hand burned with the same pattern, except the colour of the blood on his arm was a garish, scar-like white. The intricacies of the deal, the covenant, the contract, were scrolled onto each of their skin in the old tongue, a reminder of what they had promised each other.

When it was finished, Felix dropped Heath’s hand and studied the strange glowing contract on his arm. “Wonderful. Now, all done. It wasn’t that bad, now was it?”

Heath didn’t answer. He didn’t even have the energy to glare at the vampire. He shut his eyes against the pain that lingered like dancers following the brand up his arm. Heath’s breath hitched as he felt Felix’s cold hands were on his forehead. His fingers gently moving the sweaty strands out of the vampire’s face so he could see every twinge of pain, every after effect of the blood pact on the once human thing.

“That almost killed you, darling boy,” Felix said with barely contained glee behind the words. “You really would risk anything for a foolish human.”

Heath didn’t have to energy to fight back, but he couldn’t deny that Felix’s cold hands felt so nice on his forehead, and he leaned into the touch like a cat would a human.

“Oh, my sweet boy. I think we should get you to bed, hmm? I don’t you fainting on your first day back in my service, oh all the things we will do together, Heath.”

Heath groaned as Felix wrapped an arm around him and pulled him out of the comfortable chair, letting him lean all his weight onto the ancient vampire. “There you go, sweet boy. Oh I could just eat you when you’re like this.”

“Fuck— off,” Heath whined as Felix walked them out of the study and towards the foyer. The backdoor opened to their left and in walked a quick-stepping vampire, pulling garden gloves off her hands and smiling when she saw Felix and Heath. Then she smelled the blood, and suddenly Celeste was in front of the pair, red eyes locked on Heath’s.

“What happened?” She asked, her voice breathless. She saw the bite marks on his throat and her gaze cut into Felix. “What did you do?” She hissed, bearing her fangs at him.

Felix smiled an easy smile. “We made a deal, didn’t we Heathy?”

Celeste’s eyes went back to Heath, softening at the edges. She put her hands on his cheeks, tilting his head to look at her. “You idiot.”

“I know,” Heath said with a breath, closing his eyes at her soft touch. He didn’t want to see the pity in her face, but she would understand when he told her later. She would understand and curse Felix and kiss him and everything would be okay.

“If you’ll excuse us, darling, the boy’s a bit drained. I’m taking him to bed.” Felix said. Heath could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke, so proud to have Heath under his thumb again. God. He was such an idiot.

“I’ll take him,” Celeste said immediately.

“Nonsense,” Felix replied already walking forwards, dragging Heath along with him. “I’ll be down shortly.”

Heath smiled at Celeste’s protests, his heart would’ve beamed at her care and love, but Felix was older than both of them, and older meant stronger, and Heath didn’t want the guilt of having Celeste hurt because of his foolishness, so he was happy that she remained in the hall, watching the pair as Felix helped Heath up the stairs.

Heath stopped in the room he and Celeste were sleeping in, but Felix dragged him on, further down the hall. “Felix, where’re—”

“Hush, dear boy. Just let me worry about everything, you shouldn’t trouble your pretty little head about it.”

Heath swallowed, trying to straighten in Felix’s hold and dig his heels into the carpet, but Felix pulled him along, all the way down to the door at the end of the hall. Felix’s room. Heath’s heart leapt into his throat, as he struggled against Felix’s venom injecting weakness through every inch of his body.

He hadn’t been in Felix’s room since he was human. It was the last place Heath was human, and it’s not a place he’d like to revisit, or filled with happy memories. It felt as if Felix had taken a knife and plunged it into Heath’s gut, twisting the metal as he opened the door and Heath was greeted with the familiar scent of the vampire.

It wasn’t like Felix ever did anything untoward to Heath when he was human, but he had a very strange possessiveness about him that Heath knew humans just didn’t. Some nights, when Felix didn’t leave Heath in his own room, or in the basement in chains for misbehaving, Felix would bring Heath into his room, into his bed, and cuddle him like he was a teddy bear.

It was so foreign a touch, so strange and upsetting. Felix would wrap Heath in blankets until he couldn’t move his limbs enough to cause any real trouble and cuddle him the entire night, his arms like iron chains wrapped around his entire body. He remembered not sleeping initially and Felix noticing this, and that was worse.

Felix would talk to him then, or sing softly in his ear. Or he’d drain him until Heath passed out, and eventually Heath learned to just sleep as quickly as he could before the vampire tried to do any of the other things to try and get Heath to sleep.

“Felix, please, let me sleep in my room,” he begged, his voice coming out high and whining. “Please.”

“We’re here now, darling, don’t worry. Here, sit down there,” Felix said, setting Heath down on the side of Felix’s bed. Heath gripped the edge of the bed, the soft duvet bunching under his hands.

“You did this… on purpose,” Heath huffed out, the world swimming in a mixture of colours that made him feel sick. Felix appeared in front of him again, taking a knee in front of the immortal hunter and grinning up at him.

“Did what?” He asked feigning innocence and tilting his head as he worked on unlacing and removing Heath’s shoes. Heath closed his eyes, trying to stop the world from turning but it didn’t stop the wooziness in his head. He groaned and shot a hand out, grabbing the poster of Felix’s canopy bed. “Oh, pet.”

“I’m not your pet,” Heath seethed, eyes flashing open. That was a mistake. Felix moved with unnatural speed, scooping Heath up in his arms and depositing him in the middle of the ridiculously big and comfortable bed.

Felix grabbed the duvet and pulled it up, tucking Heath into the bed. “Now, surely, I don’t have to stay with you, do I? Or tie you down so you don’t try and get up, hurting yourself.”

Heath shivered at the thought. “No,” he said weakly. Felix beamed.

“Wonderful. I’ll be downstairs when you feel better.” Felix leaned in, pressing a kiss to Heath’s temple. Heath turned away, but Felix just carded his hands through Heath’s hair. “I’m so happy you’re back, darling. I really have missed you. It’ll be just like the old days.”

Heath suppressed the whine of protest, opting to just stay silent and let the vampire just do whatever he wanted until he was satisfied and left. “Just call my name when you wake, sweet boy. I’ll come get you.”

Yeah right, Heath thought, but he just said: “okay.”

Felix beamed down at him, smile exposing his fangs and then he left. The heavy door shut and Heath flinched when he heard the sound of the lock. The bastard locked him in? Fuck. Felix told him once that he had made his house vampire proof.

Dramatic things, us vampires, he had told Heath one night when Heath was struggling to sleep in Felix’s bed, shivering against the monster. We like to break things and doors and furniture to make a point, so I made this manor vampire proof. Well, as much as possible. Ancient ones like myself could still destroy this place, but normal vamps? They may as well be human here.

So Heath would have to call Felix to come and get him when he woke up. Great. Perfect. Right now, Heath was exhausted and he just wanted to sleep. He could deal with Felix when he wakes up, hopefully after the venom leaves his system. Sleep came easily, his last thoughts were warm: at least, he thinks as darkness grabs him in its comforting grip, at least I saved Killian and his family from eternal torment.

****

Continued here

[patchworkorphan]

The Immortal Hunter: part one

Heath stalked up the marble steps to the ostentatious mansion. The annual masquerade party was in full swing, the smell of blood permeating the air was intoxicating, and for a moment just outside the open doors Heath hesitated. Slowly closing his hands into fists and opening them again. It occurred to him that he could leave, and the idea was all too enticing.

Maybe coming here was a mistake.

“May I take your jacket, sir?” Heath looked at the servant and was glad for the red mask obscuring part of his face, it would make the night go smoother.

Though the servant wore a full faced decorated mask, through the eye holes Heath’s maroon eyes met blue ones staring back at him.

Human. Interesting.

“That’s quite alright, thank you.”

“Of course, Mr Cain. Mr Felix has been expecting you and would like a private audience as soon as you have mingled.”

“Would he now?” Heath asked, going to stand beside the servant leaning against the wall and pulling out a metal case of cigarettes.

He clicked his fingers lighting the cigarette between his teeth and took a drag, as he watched the boy from the corner of his eyes.

“What’s your name?” He asked, and the boy hesitated.

“Forgive me, Mr Cai –”

“You can call me Heath.”

“Of course. Forgive me, Heath, but with all due respect you’re a vampire… if I tell you my name- well, I’ve heard the stories.”

Heath let out a snort of laughter, looking at the boy plainly now.

“Smart boy.”

“In this line of work, I have to be.”

Heath smiled, taking a long drag then offering the cigarette to the boy.

“Do you smoke?”

“No sir.”

“Good lad. Smart lad,” Heath said genuinely, then cocked a brow. “Not smart enough to be as far as possible from a vamp party, though?”

The boy swallowed and looked away from Heath’s penetrating stare.

“What do you owe Felix?”

“Umm…”

“You don’t reek of any thrall,” Heath began, exhaling a lungful of smoke into the cool night air. “Which either means you’re in debt –”

The servant hesitated. “The party is in full swing inside, sir.”

“I’m aware,” Heath said easily, humour lacing his voice. “Full of loathful bloodsuckers like me who eat people like you. So, either- you’re one of Victor’s pets waiting to be turned, which I’m guessing not because you knew not to tell me your name… Or you owe him something. Feel free to correct me.”

The servant said nothing for a moment. Then faltered. A dip of the head. Then back to their rigid posture, head held high.

“Family?”

“How –”

“It’s always family that fucks you. Whether you like them or not,” Heath said, throwing the cigarette to the floor. Crushing it beneath his shoe. “You live a few centuries; you see the same mistakes. I’m not saying your family isn’t worth it. I’m just saying, there will be no thanks for your sacrifice. For the years you give up.”

“You say that as if you know from experience.”

Heath smiled again, winking at the servant. “Like I said, smart boy.”

With that Heath pushed off the wall, fixing his suit jacket and mask before turning to the servant, extending a hand.

“If all goes well, I hope I never see you again,” he said, and the boy looked as if he had just solved all his problems. Like his words had somehow lifted an invisible weight from his shoulders.

“I hope so too.”

Heath nodded, taking a deep breath before breaching the doors of the building.

*~*~*~*~*

“Ah, if it isn’t Chaos himself, hmm?” Heath turned and saw the familiar face of an elegant woman strutting towards him. Wicked grin painted in red, hair immaculate as always and delicate hands outstretched to greet him.

Heath took her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “Celeste, is it me or do you get more gorgeous with the centuries?”

“Oh darling, it’s not just you. I age like a fine wine.”

Heath chuckled, letting her lead him through the crowds of blood drunk vampires and love drunk fools who let the vampires tap them like maples.

“When did you get back?” she asked over her shoulder, her sultry tones carried like the word of God on a breeze, making music in his ears as they walked.

“I’m not back,” said Heath, eyes scanning the room for the reason he was here at all. “Just visiting Victor.”

Celeste laughed her beautiful laugh, both scathing and genuine at once.

“What’s so funny?” Heath asked, the Irish accent leaking out when he got defensive.

Celeste turned to Heath then, a manicured hand on his chest as she said with knowing eyes, “everyone knows what Just visiting for you means. No one can seem to get you out of that – oh what is it called again?”

“Ireland.”

“Just the same who seems to have captured your heart. Normally you have to be dragged away,” her eyes narrowed as she looked at his lips. “Just what could it be that’s piqued your interest this time?”

Heath smiled his dazzling smile at her and took her hand in his. “Can’t you just say it’s good to see me?”

“It’s good to see you,” a new voice said. Both Celeste and Heath looked to the left to see the host of tonight’s festivities.

Victor Felix stood to their left, a wine glass of blood in one hand, the familiar hint of a smirk on the corner of his quirked lip. He was dressed in a velvet navy suit, a purple cravat tucked into his wine waistcoat that matched his wine domino mask that had horns growing from the top. The devil himself.

“Felix!” Heath exclaimed, stepping out of Celeste’s arms and went to kiss each of Felix’s cheeks.

“Mio vecchio amico, it’s been too long.”

“Too long indeed.”

“We were just discussing his absence in favour of the Emerald Isle,” Celeste added walking towards the pair, her hand extended to Felix who took it and pressed a kiss to her now gloved knuckles.

“Celeste, gorgeous as always.”

Celeste just hummed, stepping back to be in line with Heath. Heath threw an easy arm around her waist keeping her close as he shot a megawatt smile at Felix.

“How have you been, Victor?” Heath asked, smile only half forced.

“I’ve been… busy,” Felix replied, looking between Celeste and Heath with golden eyes. “Where are my manners, dear boy, you don’t even have a drink! Waiter!”

A waiter appeared in less than a second, with a tray of wine glasses half full of blood. Heath took one, holding it at his side. Celeste took one too with a smile and a thank you, before taking a sip. Felix watched the exchange with calculating eyes, that same amused smile now shining in his eyes.

“I met your boy outside,” Heath said casually, and Felix looked towards him, daring him to continue. “Smart boy.”

“He is,” said Felix bringing the glass to his lips. He paused right before he took a sip, stare cutting through Heath’s and said, “reminds me of you way back when.”

“I was just about to say the same thing. Do you plan on turning him?”

Felix shrugged. “I don’t know yet. Perhaps. It’s always good to keep the sharp ones, Heath. Speaking of… I have a friend I’d like to introduce you to.”

“Do ya now?”

Felix let out a short breath of a laugh, as if there was a joke that Heath wasn’t privy to. “I do. He even asked for you by name.”

“What an honour.”

“You boys are so boring,” said Celeste, stepping out of Heath’s hold. She placed a hand on Heath’s cheek bringing him down into a short, sweet kiss and said, “come find me after you’re done doing business at a party.”

“Of course,” said Heath. Celeste looked back at Felix then.

“Don’t keep him too long,” she ordered, and Felix nodded. Then Celeste turned and disappeared into the crowd once again.

Heath looked to Felix who turned and walked into the crowd, expecting Heath to follow, so Heath did. Through winding crowds, occasionally stopping to greet someone, or someone stopping them to greet Heath and welcome him back.

“It’s good to be home, no?” Felix commented as he led him to the back of the ballroom out towards the gardens. Heath kept his head up, eyes forward.

“I’ve made my own home Felix. It was never here.”

“You wound me. After everything I’ve done for you,” Felix said with a pantomime pout.

“That boy. Outside, the human –”

Felix stopped, stepping in front of Heath, a cruel glint in his eyes. “Let me guess. You’re going to beg me not to turn him.”

Heath shrugged. “Yeah.”

“And what would you do for me?”

“Nothing. I just wanted to stop you from making the same mistake twice.”

Felix hummed, starting to walk again to the balcony overlooking the garden. When they got to the edge, Heath leaned his forearms over the rail looking out over the green expanse below. The garden was his favourite part of Felix’s mansion. It was the one place that was peaceful. When he was human, it was his brief reprieve from Felix and his orders, out in nature with the animals and the insects, the smell of the flowers calmed him. With his vampire senses, everything was too much, and the garden became too bright, too beautiful, too smelly.

“You wouldn’t like a little brother?”

“He wouldn’t like an older one more like,” said Heath taking a sip of the blood. Tastebuds tingling with iron. It was fresh. Heath hadn’t drunk fresh blood in so long.

Felix put his back to the railing looking at Heath from the corner of his eye. “I did miss you, you know,” he said quietly. “Even if you didn’t miss me.”

“Who is this person that wants to meet me? Have you been telling stories about me again?” Heath asked without missing a beat.

Felix cleared his throat, taking a sip of his drink looking back into the ballroom. “His name is Wolfe. Ah, and here he comes.”

Heath turned as Felix stepped away, going to greet Wolfe. He was tall. That was the first thing that struck Heath, that he was tall, taller than Felix. But where Felix was slim, Wolfe was broad. He was muscled to the point of being ripped under his white collared shirt and waist coat. A half smile was on his lips, stubble lined his strong square jaw that went up into his hair line where shoulder length purposefully messy hair lay perfect.

He also wasn’t wearing a mask, Heath noted, eyes narrowing slightly. A loose tie hung around his neck untied, a mask in one hand and his drink in the other.

“Felix,” his voice rumbled smooth. “It’s been too long, mate.”

English accent. Northern. That’s about as much as Heath could discern before Felix led the hulking stranger over.

His eyes were a piercing, opaque grey colour that sent Heath’s mind reeling. He listened for a heartbeat but heard none and when Wolfe outstretched his hand Heath took it robotically and felt no warmth. No pulse of blood. Yet his eyes were grey.

“You must be Cain, Felix’s boy, yes?”

“I’m Heath,” said Heath. Not friendly and not unfriendly. “You’re English.”

“Very astute. You’re Irish.”

“For the weather I am.”

Wolfe let out a booming hearty laugh, hand tightening around Heath’s with mirth. He cupped his other hand around Heath’s and pulled him in close for a hug. Wolfe swamped Heath’s frame, his strength unnatural even for a vampire and for the first time in a long time… Heath was scared.

“Good, good. The weather is shit in our parts, innit?”

“Never any sun to contend with,” Heath laughed, but at the joke or the fact that Wolfe finally released him he didn’t know.

Wolfe’s face levelled into a happy neutral expression. The same expression he walked up to them with. “Sorry about the mask, I didn’t want to greet you without you knowing what I look like.”

Heath glanced at Felix and nearly hated himself for it. Looking to Felix for a command. An order. A silent question. Does he need to take his off too? Heath decided against it because he could, because he was his own man. He didn’t need Felix to tell him what to do anymore.

“Felix told me you’re young. What is it? A couple decades?”

Heath opened his mouth, but it was Felix who answered. “He’s 149.”

Heath shot Felix a look, but Felix just smiled back like a proud father.

“Barely out of your fledgling days!” Wolfe laughed.

“Or maybe you’re just ancient,” Heath said twisting his lips into a smile. He could do this. Don’t show any fear. Play it up. It’s fine.

Wolfe laughed again, some ancient knowing settling into his eyes as he said, “maybe.”

Heath couldn’t hold the stare long, glancing at Felix beside Wolfe instead. “Felix said you wanted to chat with me?”

“Yes. I do. If you wouldn’t mind.”

“Not at all, what about?”

Wolfe fixed Heath with a pinning stare, his grey eyes enthralling Heath just a little bit to keep his attention and for a moment Heath felt his feeble humanity humming in the back of his mind. That primal fear of predator watching prey. The same look Felix set on him when he decided he didn’t want Heath to leave him.

“The immortal hunter.”

Those three words hammered through Heath’s skull, and if his heart still beat, he’s sure it would’ve beat faster at Wolfe’s confident words issued through a cool, casual tone that demanded Heath’s attention with those cold grey eyes.

Heath looked at Felix, mouth open, looking like an idiot and Felix tilted his head – a smile on his lips watching Heath squirm before stepping closer to Heath, and Heath could have preened at the familiarity of his sire so close even after he broke the bond.

“Felix told me you had history with it,” Wolfe continued, his voice a low rumbling drawl, smooth as gravel and gentle like a lion just before it was about to prance. Wolfe tilted his head regarding Heath with inquisitive eyes. “And with the old blood. The ancient blood, of course, that’s what enticed Felix to you in the first place I’m guessing.”

Wolfe glanced at Felix then. “I can still smell it on him, even after he’s turned- what was it, 140 years or so? That ancient blood is always tricky. Especially for a fledgling.”

“I’m not a fledgling anymore.”

“Not to you, perhaps,” said Wolfe eyes going back to Heath. “But when you live as long as Felix and me, a century is nothing but a blink of an eye.”

“So, what do you want with the immortal hunter?”

“Isn’t it obvious, dear boy?”

Heath’s hand tightened harder on his glass. “Obviously not.”

Wolfe hummed, bringing the glass to his lips, and swallowing a gulp of blood. Then he smiled showing his teeth and the blood staining his lips and canines nearly made Heath sick.

Wolfe looked at Felix. “I forgot how impetuous the youth of yesterday can be.”

Felix shrugged, “it can be fun to get them in line.”

“You have the patience of a saint, Felix,” then his eyes slid back to Heath, void of the humour it had been full of before. “I, however, do not.”

Wolfe took a step towards Heath and Heath took one back, his lower back pressing into the rail trapping him, with Felix on his left caging him in.

He felt so small. So weak, so human.

“We should chat, Cain. After everyone is gone, perhaps? Are you staying with Felix while you’re here?”

“No,” Heath said at the same time Felix said, “Yes.”

Wolfe grinned, a big hand clamping down hard on Heath’s shoulder. The grip turned bruising, but Heath didn’t wince. He didn’t flinch. He kept Wolfe’s cruel stare, even when Wolfe’s claws penetrated flesh and cut through his shoulder.

“I like you, Cain,” Wolfe said, withdrawing his hand. He put his mask on finally, and it felt like Heath could finally breathe again.

Wolfe looked at Felix then, “I’ll stay here too if you have a room.”

“Of course,” said Felix his eyes on Heath again. “Don’t disappear on us now, Heath.”

Heath said nothing as he pushed passed Felix, his mind swimming as he stalked back into the ballroom, downing the glass of blood before looking for Celeste. He needed to calm down and she was the only one who could soothe his nerves right now.

*~*~*~*~*

Continued Here

[caker-baker]

Bite

Stop it.

The vampire shoved part of their fist in their mouth, watching the hero do what they always did.

Being good was sometimes shed with immortality, with power, ripped away with bindings that once held a soul.

Heroes were good, even with power, even knowing it didn’t always amount to something important.

Was this hero important? Was this hero so worth it that for the first time in a long time, old tears found the way to the vampire’s eyes?

They were not good, and no vampire would fool themselves into thinking anything different. Reckless chaos was what vampires brought into the universe, and long since had peace been considered too idle for them.

Peace was a fool’s game, someone without power trying to reach it under guises of harmony and unity and what have you, and yet…

And yet and yet and yet.

People—breathing, delicate, heart pumping blood through their veins, run of the mill carbon copy people—tried so hard.

Stop it.

The vampire bit down on their fist harder, something in the back of their mind wondering how long it’s been since an action like that would have pierced the skin. The front of the mind was too busy to intercept, focusing on the flashing police lights, Hero talking to law enforcement as they handed off one more, amount to nothing important, good deed of a person.

This particular amount to nothing good deed had caught Hero’s eyes because of some thieving attempt.

Plebeian.

If the hero craved real justice, the vampire could manipulate the world just so they could set it right again. Topple the crème de la crème of society, expose the biggest of frauds in the world, create real chaos, chaos the hero could take time to fix, to do something other than nothing.

The vampire thought of their usual chaos, the fear in the night routine, urban legends walking among the carbon copies, waiting in the dark.

That wasn’t something the hero could fix, and yet…

And yet and yet and yet.

They walked the streets, escorted people home, waited in alleyways for urban legends to get to them first.

The police and the lights faded, and again, Hero waited in the streets, still for a moment to catch the swish of clothing in the dark.

“Hi again.” They greeted with a smile, glancing up at the source of the swish of clothing.

Taking their fist out of their mouth, the vampire hopped down.

One took a surprising amount of caution to seem a noticeable and unnoticeable perfect mix of human being. Hopping wasn’t part of the vampire’s life, but gliding would draw attention.

“Hi yourself.” The vampire greeted back, staying halfway in the dark. “You’ve been quiet around here lately.”

“You know me, I go where there’s high traffic.” It was meant to be a joke, the vampire could only assume.

“Burglars are suddenly high traffic?” They doubted the hero could see their raised eyebrow, shrouded in the dark.

“Slow night tonight. You plan on causing any trouble?” The hero smiled, and so did the vampire.

“Not tonight. My dance card is fully queued.”

The hero, long ago, assumed the vampire to be some sort of vigilante. They were never corrected, because the truth was far worse.

The back of the vampire’s mind spoke again.

Stop it.

“Oh?” The hero asked. “Should I be jealous? Here I thought I was the only one conversing with the tall, dark, stranger hidden in shadow.”

“You might not be the only brightly colored hero basking in streetlight that swings by here.” Their eyes glided across the hero’s form, only for a moment, only to see their vulnerability.

The hero snorted. “Can you tell them to back off, then? This is my area.” They made a show of posing in a proud manner. “Yeah. I’m kind of a big deal around here, so…”

The vampire snickered.

Do it.

“A big deal?” They echoed. “Please. Talk to me when you’ve overthrown an oligarch.”

The hero’s over-exaggerated pose deflated. “Hey. I’m working on it.”

And it could be done. Do it. They’ll forgive you. It might take years, but it’s years they’ll have. One day they’ll die. They can be mad, or they could be dead. Do it. Exposed neck. No witnesses. Bite. Them.

The vampire shoved their fist back in their mouth and stumbled back.

“Woah! Hey,” The hero walked forward, stopping abruptly when the vampire put their other hand out, signaling for them to stay. “Are you ok?”

The back of their mind, the front of their mind, thoughts of all kind mixed together. Sickening and kind, fragile and indestructible, before the curtain dropped on human emotion, after everything heightened tenfold, the need to see humans and mimic, the pull of chaos, and then everything in between, resting on the shoulders of this unimportant hero, who could live forever if they just–

Stop it.

Slowly, they lowered both hands. “Yes, apologies, I-”

‘I’ what? Come closer, little hero.

They backed further away. “I have dizzy spells.” What a horrid lie. “Sometimes I just need to be nearer to a wall, to rest.”

This didn’t cement the noticeable and unnoticeable human traits. The vampire was always the right combination of clumsy and agile, never before had they faltered. Dizzy spells?

“No big. Do I need to find you some water? Call anyone? One of those other brightly colored heroes?”

The vampire hid the brilliant grin that bloomed across their face, not that it mattered, they had fully immersed themselves into the darkness the shadows provided, meaning that the hero couldn’t see their eyes.

Sinking down the wall, the vampire looked to the hero, bathing in the streetlight.

Importance and unimportance. How trivial it all was in comparison to human force, vampiric chaos, a rivalry gone on for far too long.

Bite them. It’s a kindness, this gift.

“No. It’s only me, no one to call.”

The hero sat at the opposite end. “Consider me your emergency contact, then. How long do these normally last?”

Stop it.

The vampire enjoyed this human. This one force in the universe as a constant. But this constant wasn’t forever. They would die one day. Death was constant, Hero wasn’t.

What good was an inconsistent without their ability to be good?

“Not long.” The vampire stood again, the action taking more from them than they originally realized.

It wasn’t until the hero spoke again that they felt an unusual mortal weakness.

“Stay here.” The hero also stood. “I’ll get you some water.”

God, this ache in their chest was painful in a way they hadn’t known since their human death. The weak knees that buckled with the hero’s absence was a sensation they wished they couldn’t feel. Those old and stale tears once again sprung to their eyes.

Had they always been this dramatic? Had it always hurt?

Even the darkness that comforted and protected creatures like them was now suffocating, but suffocating it had to be.

The hero’s footsteps echoed around the corner.

Stop it.

[chaotic-orphan]

Hi! Can you please write more of The Immortal Hunter? I'm so invested

Hello!!! Yes! Absolutely, I forgot how much I liked this story, I hope you enjoy <3

The Immortal Hunter

Part one

Part two

Part three

Part four

*~*~*~*~*

They walked in silence except for their shoes crunching off of gravel. That was fine.

Killian had been through enough already today and last night, and Heath didn’t really want him to talk, he just felt like Killian needed to.

Or Killian was going to talk anyways, once he found the right words. There was the taste of anticipation heavy in the air between them, but Heath was fine with basking in the silence for now. Happy to let Killian mull it over as they walked down the archway of trees that lined the driveway to Felix’s estate.

The light was filtering through the tree’s leaves like shattered gem shards of topaz and the birds were chirping in the trees. It was shaping up to be a nice day, and with it, Heath felt a heavy longing for his mortality and let out a soft sigh.

“You…” Killian began, then faltered and stopped when Heath looked at him. “Thank you for everything you did, uh, did for me back there.”

“No problem,” said Heath easily in reply.

Killian spoke again and said: “no. I mean—“ then he sighed and broke off again so Heath stopped walking and turned to face the boy, pulling his little metal cigarette case from his back pocket.

Killian looked at Heath, an embarrassed blush colouring his cheekbones, right above where Wolfe had sliced into his cheek with his claw. Heath focused on the dried blood caked under the wound from the coagulation in his blood as he lit the cigarette between his teeth.

“I feel like “Thank you” isn’t enough for what you did for me.”

“It is enough.”

“No,” Killian protested, meeting Heath’s eyes with his blue ones and then looking away sheepishly, a hand going to the nape of his neck and rubbing it. “It isn’t. You said you would protect my s— my family no matter what happened…”

Heath nodded, exhaling smoke through his nostrils. “It’s what I would have wanted someone to do for me.”

“But you meant it…” Killian said, like it was a challenge and a gift much too sentimental and overwhelming for knowing someone for such a short time. “You said you would protect her— even after I didn’t tell you my first name or—“

“Hey, kid. It’s okay,” said Heath, voice gentle as he extended his hand to Killian. Killian looked up at Heath’s face then down at his hand and took it in his. The warmth of Killian’s palm was almost addictive, Heath longed for that comfort. He doubted Killian even valued how much his body worked to make sure it was heated at all times, not too hot, not too cold just perfect human temperature. Heath knew he never appreciated it, not until it was too late.

Something settled over Killian’s features, resolute and accepting as he gave Heath’s cold dead hand a good, firm shake.

Heath smiled softly, a little sadly, then dropped Killian’s hand.

“I was in the same position as you,” Heath continued, turning to walk further away from Felix’s mansion and prying ears. Killian easily fell into step beside him.

“In debt to Felix for family reasons that don’t matter anymore because my family is dead. Felix tried to tell me that before I signed my soul to him, but I refused to listen,” Heath said, voice turning wry towards the end of the sentence. He shot a smile over to Killian who’s eyebrows were knitted together in sympathy. “Who knew, right?”

Heath took another long inhale of smoke into his lungs, filling his dead tissue husk with the burnt remnants of tobacco. Somehow the two dead things twisted and combining together warmed him and made him feel as close to alive as he was ever going to get.

Except for maybe blood… blood sang to every nerve and muscle and organ in his body, craved it, clung to it and was never satisfied no matter how much or little he drank. The point of satiation would be producing his own blood in his body, like back when he was, y’know— alive, and that wasn’t ever going to happen so yes.

Blood and, a close second, smoking cigarettes, made him feel alive.

Or as alive as he could feel.

He remembered last night. His old knife in his hand, his blood lighting up the runes of the Hunters’ blade. Remembered his heart beating and the blood rushing through his ears like phantom limbs. Remembered the rush of breathlessness as he sunk the blade into Wolfe’s strong body and watched him crumble around it.

Remembered zoning out during the Hunter’s high and crashing back into his body with a wave of nausea and exhaustion hitting him like a truck.

Heath knew he was made to kill vampires, as all Hunters are. As the Immortal Hunter he knew he would spend eternity fighting and killing every last bloodsucker on the planet, protecting humans as best as he could, and when all the vampires would dead, so too could Heath rest in peace eternally.

That was his purpose.

His sole mission.

When Felix killed him he thought that was the end. That he failed and he doomed humanity to endure the vile, ruthless creatures in the night with no protector.

Wolfe yesterday seemed like a test, like the world was trying to figure out if he really wasn’t the immortal Hunter anymore, or if he was.

Heath nearly scoffed at his own thoughts. “Like the world was trying to figure out…” if the world was currently sitting at his dining table enjoying breakfast with Celeste and went by the name of Victor, then yes, as he would like to think of himself it, the world really wanted to answer that burning question, and answer it he did.

It gave Heath something he forgot he ever had.

Hope.

Hope that one day, someday soon, he could repay Felix the favour of death and be able to continue this life without having to suffer sadistic vampire.

Heath paused in his steps, eyes staring at the gravel road in front of him. Killian stopped too, looking over his shoulder at Heath. Heath realised he looked a bit crazy then, so he tapped his cigarette and watched the ashes flutter to the ground, mixing with the wide ranging palette of small grey stones.

The worst part was that Heath remembered. He remembered gripping the knife as Killian helped him to his feet, remembered holding onto it like a lifeline. He pushed Killian away and then tried to take a step and collapsed, and the knife…

“Heath? You okay?”

“Mmm,” Heath grumbled in reply. Maroon eyes finding inquisitive human ones peering back at him.

“The dagger that I killed Wolfe with,” Heath said, tilting his head, “did you see what I did with it?”

Killian turned to face Heath, folding his arms across his chest. “You— well, Felix told me it was part of some ritual you needed to complete.”

Heath let out a huff of breath from his nostrils, shaking his head. “I must have dropped it when I collapsed,” Heath said, taking in a quick puff of his cigarette. “Did you hear it clatter?”

“What’s so important about it?”

“It’s — uh, it’s like an extension of the Hunter’s arm. Very sacred, the dagger and the blood of a Hunter are what—“ Heath looked at Killian and smiled, not wanting to get into it in detail. “Sorry. Long story short, it kills vampires.”

Killian frowned. “And Felix had it?”

“Yes,” Heath said with an exhale of smoke, slipping the cigarette between his teeth. “He did. But if you didn’t hear it clatter to the ground then Felix must have it again…”

“I doubt he’s the type to just leave it lying around, even if you did drop it.”

“You’d be right,” Heath said, stretching his hands to sky and cracking his back, letting out a loud satisfied sigh as his wound up muscles loosened and cartilage cracked. “Ah, problem for another day. We can worry about that later.”

Heath started walking down the tree lined drive again with Killian following and falling into step beside him. “How can you be so nonchalant about that? Can’t that knife kill you?”

Heath shrugged. “A lot of things can kill me. That knife is not one of them. It’s the whole point of Hunter’s blood being needed for the dagger to work. Otherwise it’s just a normal knife. If it killed Hunters, it wouldn’t be that useful.”

“But you’re a vampire now,” Killian said, and Heath’s dead heart stuttered at the blatant truth so easily flowing from Killian’s lips. “From what Felix was saying today you, well, it seemed like you should still be human.”

“Mmm, first of my kind. I’m truly unique.”

“Does it not scare you?”

“Death?” Heath asked with a breath of laughter. He stopped waking, took the last pull of his cigarette, down to the butt, close enough for his fingers to feel the burn before dropping it and extinguishing it beneath his shoe. “That’s a bit too philosophical of a topic for a Thursday morning, Killian.”

“No, I mean—“ Heath smiled and put a hand on Killian’s shoulder silencing him.

“I know what you mean, but trust me when I say that there are things worse than death when it comes to Victor Felix. You almost experienced it first hand last night.”

“I… Wolfe attacked me last night, he was the one who took me and tied me up in the basement. He was the one who hurt me and—“

“Felix was the one willing to let Wolfe turn you or torture you to prove a point to me.”

The corner of Killian’s lips turned down into a scowl. “I’m not a pawn to be played in your and Felix’s game.”

“No, you’re not,” said Heath straightening up and taking his hand from Killian’s shoulder, to run it through his hair. “I’m just saying you should be more careful about what jobs you take for Felix.”

Killian went silent after that and Heath didn’t press him further on it as they walked out of the imposing wrought iron gates that sealed the estate away from the local town.

The gates that made it such a formidable foe when Heath was running, trying to escape Felix in the night. Worn and tired, human lungs gasping for air and heart pounding blood and adrenaline to fuel his body. He remembered coming up to see the always open gates shut and padlocked tight with chains.

He remembers shaking the gate and cursing under his breath and then throwing caution to the wind, gripping the iron bars and pulling himself up. He had only got a foot off the ground when a hand tightened in the back of his shirt, clenching the fabric into bunched up cold fist.

Heath froze.

He remembers hearing the low tsk of Felix and the smile in his voice. Felix didn’t do anything else. That small contact was enough to humiliate Heath, show him how powerless he really was.

“You can come back willingly and I promise I’ll only bleed you a little,” Felix purred, voice as deadly as Heath’s vampire slaying blade. He remembers tightening his grip on the bars until his knuckles turned white. Heath pressed his forehead against the cold bars, lamenting his freedom which was right there in front of him. He could’ve reached out and grabbed it.

If he was fast enough.

If he was strong enough.

If he was better.

Heath shuddered out a shaky exhale, feeling less of Felix’s cold dead hands on him. Unnatural hands.

“Or you can do this in your own special way, Heath,” Felix continued, voice almost fond. “In your penchant for raising Cain and really make me work up an appetite…”

Heath let out a pathetic cry of frustration into the night, rattling the gates along with his scream at the gates that were closed to him by Felix, for Felix’s own amusement. He liked his prey to run, he had told Heath that much after he tried to run so many times, told him he liked the high that adrenaline gives to the blood. Makes it sweeter, almost frenzied.

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop feeding on you after you pass out if that’s the route you want to take, and you know, I would have to punish you for running away again once you wake up. You’ve been so good for me lately, Heath…” Felix’s fingers walked up Heath’s spine as far as they could and yanked Heath off the gate as if he wasn’t holding on at all.

Heath’s feet had barely hit the ground when in a flash he was pressed against the gate, his cheekbone digging into the metal as Felix rested his now clawed fingers on the nape of Heath’s neck. Heath pushed with all his might and struggled to get Felix off him but Felix didn’t falter. It was as if Heath wasn’t struggling at all.

Felix leaned in and sniffed Heath’s neck, smiling against the thin skin between his major veins and arteries, pumping the blood, the terror, the adrenaline, the life through his veins.

“Hard way it is,” he hummed, yanking Heath off the gates and dragging him away from them, kicking and fighting and screaming. “Dear boy, a chase and a fight and a feast. You’re really spoiling me tonight.”

Heath remembered it like it was yesterday. It feels like it was yesterday. Or maybe it was the fact that even after Felix took his humanity and turned him into an unnatural immortal thing, last night when it came down to it, when it came to Heath being able to protect Killian from Wolfe and Felix’s schemes, he couldn’t do a thing to stop them.

The moment Felix threw a casual arm over his shoulder and wrapped it tight around his torso he knew he couldn’t fight him off, let alone Wolfe.

His humanity, his dignity and his family— all traded for eternity as a leech, and still he was too weak to fight off the sadistic fucker who took everything he loved from him and left him with nothing except misery.

Heath looked at Killian walking beside him and he hated himself because he knew even now that the only reason Killian was walking with him back home, and not still tied up in Felix’s basement, is so Felix could dangle another good thing in Heath’s life to rip away. To leverage against him, to torture him with, to keep him in check and make sure he behaves.

Or else, went unsaid.

Behave or else Killian dies, or gets turned, or something worse that Felix could conjure up in his twisted mind. Heath just knew whatever it was would involve suffering.

And the worst part was that as far as Felix was dangling another good thing in front of him, Heath was too stubborn or too stupid to not take the bait and get in too deep.

Maybe their sick little game was doomed to continue for eternity, with new calamity as collateral with every new generation of humans.

“My home is just…” Killian began, tearing Heath from his thoughts. Killian stopped himself short, glancing over his shoulder at Heath. Heath nodded encouragingly, waiting for the answer for a beat too long before he realised and a smile spread across his face.

Heath nodded again, tilting his head at Killian. “You don’t want to tell me.”

“No,” said Killian after careful thought. “I don’t.”

“That’s okay.”

“Is it?”

“It is. Can you promise me you’ll get home safe?”

“Yes.”

“Can you promise Felix won’t come after you?”

Killian hesitated. Heath nodded and said, “then I’m coming, kid. Trust me it’s safer for us both.”

“How is it safer for me?” Killian demanded, nostrils flaring stepping closer to Heath, squaring up slightly. Heath grinned showing his fangs and took a small bit of sick pleasure at the slight falter on Killian’s face.

Heath stepped forward, closing the gap, exposing Heath’s clear height advantage and stared down at Killian waiting for him to back down.

Killian didn’t.

Despite it all.

He didn’t back down and Heath couldn’t help let out a soft happy laughter.

Killian frowned. “What?”

“I’m just impressed is all.”

“Thank you?” Killian asked.

Heath shook his head. “Never impress a vampire, Killian. If you listen to anything I say, listen to that. They’re obsessive things. Possessive things. They’ll steal your life to keep you because you’re entertaining.”

“You’re barely a vampire. You’re basically human.”

Heath sighed. “I was never human. I was a hunter, and then I was a vampire. Such is life. Now, you can either agree to show me where you live or I can wait — trust me, immortality gives you great patience — and I will follow you home when you eventually relent to check on your family —“

“Okay!” Killian huffed, throwing his hands up helplessly. “Fine! Why do you want to know so badly anyways?!”

Heath felt his face grow solemn, eyes turning poignant and lips almost pouting.

“I want to make sure Wolfe is dead and not coming for revenge, and I want to make sure Felix doesn’t come and take you away in the night. I don’t even need to go inside, just… let me watch over you tonight, and your family. Keep you safe.”

“I have work in the morning,” Killian said.

Heath shrugged, “then I’ll walk you to work.”

“You can’t protect me every minute of everyday,” Killian reasoned and Heath just shrugged again.

“I can try.”

Killian huffed, crossing his arms across his chest. “Is this another Hunter ritual thing?”

Heath smiled, a small genuine smile. “Yeah, something like that…”

Killian nodded, then turned and started walking. He gestured over his shoulder for Heath to follow and Heath did so in a comfortable silence, listening to the boy as he rambled on about how annoying the walk to work is in the morning, or when it’s raining.

Heath smiled as he spoke, unaware of the figure that was watching the pair between the trees.

*~*~*~*~*

Continued here

[chaotic-orphan]

The Immortal Hunter : Part 4

Continuation of Always a ball

Read Part one here

Part two

Part three

I found this in my drafts and forgot about my vampire babies, so enjoy!

*~*~*~*~*

“What can I say,” Heath said easily. “I’m an honest kind of guy,” then he plunged the knife deep into Wolfe’s heart.

Heath relished in the wide grey eyed surprise of the bastard who had orchestrated his own demise. He wouldn’t admit it later on, but Heath even smiled.

He stuck the blade in nice and deep, and still holding the handle followed the momentum through, his other hand grabbing Wolfe’s shoulder and pushing him onto his back with Heath breathing heavily over him.

It was strange being a vampire. He had no heartbeat yet he swore there was something slamming against his chest, thundering euphoria around his body. His ears which shouldn’t have a pulse drunk on the thrill of the kill of another rotten bloodsucker. The hunter’s high was always a little unhinged, but in that moment Heath didn’t care.

His body responded as if it was still alive. Adrenaline keeping him going, not blood from last night’s party. He sucked in a deep breath through his nose, eyes closing in a moment of bliss.

He missed this.

“Heath?”

Heath’s head turned with a hyper energy to the sound, where his unfocused eyes found Killian tied to the chair staring at him with human eyes full of uncertain fear.

Killian shouldn’t be afraid, the voice in his head said. His heart still beats. He is sacred.

Heath stood from Wolfe’s body and turned full to face Killian now, ears honed in on his heartbeat speeding up. Which was ridiculous. Heath would never hurt a hair on his head.

Heath bowed to Killian, knife flat on his two outstretched palms.

“An offering,” someone said. Who wasn’t important to Heath. No all that mattered was that precious human life he saved. “I’ve heard of the hunter’s high, but I thought it was a myth.”

“The hunter’s high?” Killian asked.

“When a hunter kills a vampire when saving a human life. It’s like a high we could never begin to understand. This is his promise to you.”

“Promise?”

“You need to accept the knife to complete the ritual.”

A pause.

“Oh wait, your hands- let me…”

There was the sound of ropes being cut, then falling limply to the floor.

“I just take the knife?” Killian asked.

“No. Well yes, don’t take it from him. Just grab the handle. It’s like a thank you, if you wanna think of it like that.”

“I thank him for saving my life?”

“No. He thanks you for giving him the opportunity to slay another vampire. Do it. Now.”

A pair of black runners appeared in Heath’s view. Not that he could really register it. But he recognised them as Killian’s from the day before in a faraway part of his brain.

Then there was a warm hand on his, fingers wrapping around the hilt of the blade and Heath wrapped his hand around the owners hand.

Then it felt like Heath crashed back down onto his own body.

He looked up at Killian who looked down at him with a weary expression, as if he was afraid Heath might hurt him. Heath frowned, eyes flicking to Felix who stood behind the chair Killian was tied to watching the exchange with that awful cat like interest that made Heath’s stomach turn.

“Heath?” Killian asked, and Heath looked back at him. Heard his heart beating. He was still alive.

Heath got to his feet with Killian’s help, feeling very weak from the Hunter’s return. He looked down at Wolfe at his feet, blood seeping steadily into a stream from his wound.

“Ah fuck,” Heath muttered, looking over his shoulder at Felix. “I didn’t mean to kill him.”

Felix waved the death of his friend away as if it was spilled milk.

“Don’t be daft. Let’s have breakfast, I’m famished. Killian will you join us for breakfast? Please do. Actually, as your boss I insist. I’ll have the cook prepare some pastries. I feel like a nice croissant right about now.”

Felix kept talking and gesturing as he walked out of the door to the basement and waited there, holding it open for the others to follow.

“Are you okay to walk?” Killian asked after Heath let him go.

“Yeah. I’m fine. Don’t worry about it,” Heath said then took a step and collapsed. Killian was bent double trying to catch him, but before Heath hit the floor Felix had a hand under him, putting Heath’s arm over his shoulder and helping him out of the basement. “Shit,” Heath whispered as his head swam. The rush from the Hunter’s high zapping his energy.

“Hush, dear boy,” Felix said quietly enough so only Heath could hear, “I got you.” Heath didn’t have the energy to argue or repress the shudder at Felix’s old pet name for him, and just let Felix half carry him out of the room.

Felix didn’t turn as he said over his shoulder, “Chop chop Killian.”

Heath heard an immediate: “Yes sir.”

Then he zoned out knowing Killian was safe and let Felix guide him to the dining room.

Celeste was already at the dining table, knife and fork in hand, hair in a simple low bun and she didn’t as much raise a brow when the three men arrived. On the table before her was a small feast of pancakes, fruit, bread and pastries that still had steam rising from them.

“You’re just in time,” she said simply. “The pastries only arrived.”

Killian walked through the door after Felix and Heath. Following Felix around the table after he had deposited Heath onto the chair next to Celeste, and then sat at the head of the table on her other side. Killian sat opposite Celeste on the other side of Felix, her perfect eyebrows raised at that.

“Oh hello. You must be Felix’s new employee. I’m Celeste.”

“Celeste, Killian. Killian, Celeste. We’re all acquainted now let’s eat,” said Felix plating himself some pastries from the table and a side of grapes.

“I’m sorry you’re in debt to him,” she said as Killian sat down and Killian nodded in response. “You have a bruise on your cheek, and a cut… and blood on your shirt and nose. Felix, did you do that?”

“I would never.”

“No. A guy named Wolfe,” said Killian.

“Oh,” Celeste said her voice taking an edge to it as she looked to Heath at her side who was a little out of it. “You’re lucky to be alive.”

“I’ll remember that,” said Killian, taking a croissant and biting into it. “It’s all thanks to Heath.”

“Defender of the Humans that man,” Celeste said with a secret smile. She dropped her voice conspiratorially and added, “He must like you.”

“I don’t,” Heath said, voice raw, reaching across Celeste and taking a pancake from her plate.

“Now that’s a lie,” Felix said, eyes on Heath even as he continued talking with Celeste. “You should have seen him down there, Celeste. He was exquisitely noble.”

“When is he not?”

Heath grunted in response. Killian for his part was mostly famished and weirded out by the three vampires sitting before him. He ate quietly, every now and then grabbing something when his plate was empty as they fell into silence.

“Tell me,” Felix began, cutting a pancake with his knife and fork and easing a piece to his mouth, “Did you know he was the Immortal hunter?”

Celeste froze for a split second, imperceptible to the human eye, the brief halting pause in her limbs. A split second was all it was, but that was all it needed to be for Felix to notice. Silence descended on the table, even Killian stopped chewing as he noticed the change in tone at the table. Felix’s eyes were sharp as a feline’s as he watched Celeste process the information.

“Yes. I was shocked too. I would have thought he’d tell you of all people,” Felix said conversationally, as if he didn’t just drop the bomb of the century on her over breakfast.

“I’m right here,” Heath said. His eyes were shut, his head tilted back on the chair and staring at the ceiling.

“Would you prefer we talk behind your back?” Felix asked.

“I’d prefer if I didn’t have to hear your voice for another decade, Victor.”

“You wound me. It’s not even 9 a.m.”

“I’ve had a long day,” Heath said. He looked at Killian then from across the table. “As have you. Would you like me to walk you home?”

“Heath-“ Felix began but was cut off immediately by Heath’s chair scraping against the hardwood floor.

“Give him the day off. It’s my treat. Plus I’ll be here to wait on you hand and foot.”

Felix shrugged in response. “Fine,” he said in an exhale. “However me and Celeste will be talking about you behind your back.”

“As all good friends do. Come on Killian.”

Heath was out of the room before Killian had even stood up. He did so a bit awkwardly, bowing his head to Celeste.

“It was nice to meet you, Celeste.”

“Enchantée. Don’t be a stranger, Killian.”

Killian didn’t know what to say to that so he said nothing, just nodded again and followed Heath out of the house. He wouldn’t be prey to another Vampire’s stupid contracts and customs in the span of 24 hours.

Celeste waited until they were out of earshot to turn to Felix staring daggers into his face which Felix just blinked unfazed at.

“What do you mean Heath’s the immortal hunter? The immortal hunter can’t be a vampire? And that boy? You let Wolfe hurt him in your own house?”

"Wolfe is dead now, Celeste, so any disrespect he caused me in my house is currently bleeding out of him in my basement. As for how the immortal hunter can be a vampire," Felix said, taking a sip of wine and looking at her over the glass, “I have a few theories...”

*~*~*~*~*

Continued here

[chaotic-orphan]

Dec. 24, prompt: always a ball

This one is so late, but I really love these guys, so forgive me I will catch up with the other prompts

@the-modern-typewriter @the-modern-typewriter-aesthetic

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Heath stalked up the marble steps to the ostentatious mansion. The annual masquerade party was in full swing, the smell of blood permeating the air was intoxicating, and for a moment just outside the open doors Heath hesitated. Slowly closing his hands into fists and opening them again.

Maybe coming here was a mistake.

“May I take your jacket, sir?” Heath looked at the servant and was glad for the red mask obscuring part of his face, it would make the night go smoother.

Though the servant wore a full decorated mask, through the eye holes Heath’s maroon eyes met blue ones staring back at him.

Human. Interesting.

“That’s quite alright, thank you.”

“Of course, Mr Cain. Mr Felix has been expecting you, and would like a private audience as soon as you have mingled.”

“Would he now?” Heath asked, going to stand beside the servant leaning against the wall and pulling out a metal case of cigarettes.

He clicked his fingers lighting the cigarette between his teeth and took a drag, as he watched the boy from the corner of his eyes.

“What’s your name?” He asked, and the boy hesitated.

“Forgive me, Mr Cai-“

“You can call me Heath.”

“Of course. Forgive me, Heath, but with all due respect you’re a vampire… if I tell you my name- well, I’ve heard the stories.”

Heath let out a snort of laughter, looking at the boy plainly now.

“Smart boy.”

“In this line of work, I have to be.”

Heath smiled, taking a long drag then offering the cigarette to the boy.

“Do you smoke?”

“No sir?”

“Good lad. Smart lad,” Heath said genuinely, then cocked a brow. “Not smart enough to be as far as possible from a vamp party, though?”

The boy swallowed and looked away from Heath’s penetrating stare.

“What do you owe Felix?”

“Umm…”

“You don’t reek of any thrall,” Heath began, exhaling a lungful of smoke into the cool night air. “Which either means you’re in debt-“

The servant hesitated. “The party is in full swing inside, sir.”

“I’m aware,” Heath said easily. “Full of loathful bloodsuckers like me who eat people like you. So, either- you’re one of Victor’s pets waiting to be turned, which I’m guessing not because you knew not to tell me your name… Or, you owe him something. Feel free to correct me.”

The servant said nothing for a moment. Then faltered. A dip of the head. Then back to their rigid posture, head held high.

“Family?”

“How-?”

“It’s always family that fucks you. Whether you like them or not,” Heath said, throwing the cigarette to the floor. Crushing it beneath his shoe. “You live a few centuries, you see the same mistakes. I’m not saying your family isn’t worth it. I’m just saying, there will be no thanks for your sacrifice. For the years you give up.”

“You say that as if you know from experience.”

Heath smiled again, winking at the servant. “Like I said, smart boy.”

With that Heath pushed off the wall, fixing his suit jacket and mask before turning to the servant, extending a hand.

“If all goes well, I hope I never see you again,” he said and the boy looked as if he had just solved all his problems. Like his words had somehow lifted an invisible weight from his shoulders.

“I hope so too.”

Heath nodded, taking a deep breath before breaching the doors of the building.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Ah, if it isn’t Chaos himself, hmm?” Heath turned and saw the familiar face of an elegant woman strutting towards him. Wicked grin painted in red, hair immaculate as always and hands outstretched to greet him.

Heath took her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “Celeste, is it me or do you get more gorgeous with the centuries?”

“Oh darling, it’s not just you. I age like a fine wine.”

Heath chuckled, letting her lead him through the crowds of blood drunk vampires and love drunk fools who let the vampires tap them like maples.

“When did you get back?” She asked over her shoulder, her sultry tones carried like the word of God on a breeze, making music in his ears as they walked.

“I’m not back,” said Heath, eyes scanning the room for the reason he was here at all. “Just visiting Victor.”

Celeste laughed her beautiful laugh, both scathing and genuine at once.

“What’s so funny?”

Celeste turned to Heath then, a manicured hand on his chest as she said with knowing eyes, “Everyone knows what Just visiting for you means. No one can seem to get you out of that- oh what is it?”

“Ireland.”

“Just the same who seems to have captured your heart. Normally you have to be dragged away,” her eyes narrowed as she looked at his lips. “Just what could it be that’s piqued your interest this time?”

Heath smiled his dazzling smile at her, and took her hand in his. “Can’t you just say it’s good to see me?”

“It’s good to see you,” a voice said and both Celeste and Heath looked to the left to see the host of tonight’s festivities.

Victor Felix stood to their left, a wine glass of blood in one hand, the familiar hint of a smirk on the corner of his quirked lip. He was dressed in a velvet navy suit, a purple cravat tucked into his wine waistcoat that matched his wine domino mask that had horns growing from the top.

“Felix!” Heath exclaimed stepping out of Celeste’s arms and went to kiss each of Felix’s cheeks.

“Mio vecchio amico, it’s been too long.”

“Too long indeed.”

“We were just discussing his absence in favour of the Emerald Isle,” Celeste added walking towards the pair, her hand extended to Felix who took it and pressed a kiss to her now gloved knuckles.

“Celeste, gorgeous as always.”

Celeste just hummed, stepping back to be in line with Heath. Heath threw an easy arm around her waist keeping her close as he shot a megawatt smile at Felix.

“How have you been, Victor?” Heath asked, smile only half forced.

“I’ve been… busy,” Felix replied, looking between Celeste and Heath with golden eyes. “Where are my manners, dear boy, you don’t even have a drink! Waiter!”

A waiter appeared in less than a second, with a tray of wine glasses half full of blood. Heath took one, holding it at his side. Celeste took one too with a smile and a thank you, before taking a sip. Felix watched the exchange with calculating eyes, that same amused smile now shining in his eyes.

“I met your boy outside,” Heath said casually, and Felix looked towards him, daring him to continue. “Smart boy.”

“He is,” said Felix bringing the glass to his lips. He paused right before he took a sip, stare cutting through Heath’s and said, “Reminds me of you way back when.”

“I was just about to say the same thing. Do you plan on turning him?”

Felix shrugged. “I don’t know yet. Perhaps. It’s always good to keep the sharp ones, Heath. Speaking of… I have a friend I’d like to introduce you to.”

“Do you now?”

Felix let out a short breath of a laugh, as if there was a joke that Heath wasn’t privy to. “I do. He even asked for you by name.”

“What an honour.”

“You boys are so boring,” said Celeste, stepping out of Heath’s hold. She placed a hand on Heath’s cheek bringing him down into a short sweet kiss and said, “Come find me after you’re done doing business at a party.”

“Of course,” said Heath. Celeste looked back at Felix then.

“Don’t keep him too long,” she ordered and Felix nodded. Then Celeste turned and disappeared into the crowd once again.

Heath looked to Felix who turned and walked into the crowd, expecting Heath to follow, so Heath did. Through winding crowds, occasionally stopping to greet someone, or someone stopping them to greet Heath and welcome him back.

“It’s good to be home, no?” Felix commented as he led him to the back of the ballroom out towards the gardens. Heath kept his head up, eyes forward.

“I’ve made my own home Felix. It was never here.”

“You wound me. After everything I’ve done for you,” Felix said with a pantomime pout.

“That boy. Outside, the human-“

Felix stopped, stepping in front of Heath, a cruel glint in his eyes.

“Let me guess. You’re going to beg me not to turn him.”

Heath shrugged. “Yeah.”

“And what would you do for me?”

“Nothing. I just wanted to stop you from making the same mistake twice.”

Felix hummed, starting to walk again to the balcony overlooking the garden. When they got there Heath leaned his forearms over the rail looking out over the green expanse below.

“You wouldn’t like a little brother?”

“He wouldn’t like an older one more like,” said Heath taking a sip of the blood. Tastebuds tingling. It was fresh. Heath hadn’t drank fresh blood in so long.

Felix put his back to the railing looking at Heath from the corner of his eye. “I did miss you, you know,” he said quietly. “Even if you didn’t miss me.”

“Who is this person that wants to meet me? Have you been telling stories about me again?” Heath asked without missing a beat.

Felix cleared his throat, taking a sip of his drink looking back into the ballroom. “His name is Wolfe. Ah, and here he comes.”

Heath turned as Felix stepped away, going to greet Wolfe. He was tall. That was the first thing that struck Heath. He was tall, taller than Felix. But where Felix was slim, Wolfe was broad. He was muscled to the point of being ripped under his white collared shirt and waist coat. A half smile was on his lips, stubble lined his strong square jaw that went up into his hair line where shoulder length purposefully messy hair lay perfect.

He also wasn’t wearing a mask, Heath noted, eyes narrowing slightly. A loose tie hung around his neck untied, a mask in one hand and his drink in the other.

“Felix,” his voice rumbled smooth. “It’s been too long, mate.”

English accent. Northern. That’s about as much as Heath could discern before Felix led the hulking stranger over.

His eyes were piercing and an opaque grey colour that sent Heath’s mind reeling. He listened for a heartbeat, but heard none and when Wolfe outstretched his hand Heath took it robotically and felt no warmth. No pulse of blood. Yet his eyes were grey.

“You must be Cain, Felix’s boy yes?”

“I’m Heath,” said Heath. Not friendly and not unfriendly. “You’re English.”

“Very astute. You’re Irish.”

“For the weather I am.”

Wolfe let out a booming hearty laugh, hand tightening around Heath’s with mirth. He cupped his other hand around Heath’s and pulled him in close for a hug. Wolfe swamped Heath’s frame, his strength unnatural even for a vampire and for the first time in a long time… Heath was scared.

“Good, good. The weather is shit in our parts, innit?”

“Never any sun to contend with,” Heath laughed, but at the joke or the fact that Wolfe finally released him he didn’t know.

Wolfe’s face levelled into a happy neutral expression. The same expression he walked up to them with. “Sorry about the mask, I didn’t want to greet you without you knowing what I look like.”

Heath glanced at Felix and nearly hated himself for it. Looking to Felix for a command. An order. A silent question . Does he need to take his off too?

Heath decided against it because he could, because he was his own man. He didn’t need Felix to tell him what to do anymore.

“Felix told me you’re young. What is it? A couple decades?”

Heath opened his mouth, but it was Felix who answered.

“He’s 149.”

Heath shot Felix a look, but Felix just smiled back like a proud father.

“Barely out of your fledgling days!” Wolfe laughed.

“Or maybe you’re just ancient,” Heath said twisting his lips into a smile. He could do this. Don’t show any fear. Play it up. It’s fine.

Wolfe laughed again, something ancient knowing settling into his eyes as he said, “Maybe.”

Heath couldn’t hold the stare long, glancing at Felix beside Wolfe instead. “Felix said you wanted to chat with me?”

“Yes. I do. If you wouldn’t mind.”

“Not at all, what about?”

Wolfe fixed Heath with a pinning stare, his grey eyes enthralling Heath just a little bit to keep his attention and for a moment Heath felt his feeble humanity humming in the back of his mind. That primal fear of predator watching prey. The same look Felix set on him when he decided he didn’t want Heath to leave him.

“The immortal hunter.”

Those three words hammered through Heath’s skull, and if his heart still beat he’s sure it would’ve beat faster at Wolfe’s confident words issued through a cool, casual tone that demanded Heath’s attention with those cold grey eyes.

Heath looked at Felix, mouth open, looking like an idiot and Felix tilted his head - a smile on his lips at watching Heath squirm before stepping closer to Heath, and Heath could have preened at the familiarity of his sire so close even after he broke the bond.

“Felix told me you had history with it,” Wolfe continued, his voice a low rumbling drawl, smooth as gravel and gentle like a lion just before it was about to prance. Wolfe tilted his head regarding Heath with inquisitive eyes. “And with the old blood. The ancient blood, of course that’s what enticed Felix to you in the first place I’m guessing.”

Wolfe glanced at Felix then. “I can still smell it on him, even after he’s turned- what was it, 140 years or so? That ancient blood is always tricky. Especially for a fledgling.”

“I’m not a fledgling anymore.”

“Not to you, perhaps,” said Wolfe eyes going back to Heath. “But when you live as long as Felix and I, a century is nothing but a blink of and eye.”

“So what do you want with the immortal hunter?”

“Isn’t it obvious, dear boy?”

Heath’s hand tightened harder on his glass. “Obviously not.”

Wolfe hummed, bringing the glass to his lips and swallowing a gulp of blood. Then he smiled showing his teeth and the blood staining his lips and canines nearly made Heath sick.

Wolfe looked at Felix. “I forgot how impetuous the youth of yesterday can be.”

Felix shrugged, “It can be fun to get them in line.”

“You have the patience of a saint, Felix,” then his eyes slid back to Heath, void of the humour it had been full of before. “I however, do not.”

Wolfe took a step towards Heath and Heath took one back, his lower back pressing into the rail trapping him, with Felix on his left caging him in.

Heath felt so small.

“We should chat, Cain. After everyone is gone, perhaps? Are you staying with Felix while you’re here?”

“No,” Heath said at the same time Felix said, “Yes.”

Wolfe grinned, a big hand clamping down hard on Heath’s shoulder. The grip turned bruising but Heath didn’t wince. Didn’t flinch. He kept Wolfe’s cruel stare, even when Wolfe’s claws penetrated flesh and cut through his shoulder.

“I like you, Cain,” Wolfe said, withdrawing his hand. He put his mask on finally, and it felt like Heath could finally breathe again.

Wolfe looked at Felix then, “I’ll stay here too if you have a room.”

“Of course,” said Felix his eyes on Heath again. “Don’t disappear on us now, Heath.”

Heath said nothing as he pushed passed Felix, his mind swimming as he stalked back into the ballroom, downing the glass of blood before looking for Celeste. He needed to calm down and she was the only one who could soothe his nerves right now.

*~*~*~*~*

Continued here

[patchworkorphan]

The Immortal Hunter: part five

They walked in silence except for their shoes crunching off of gravel. That was fine. Killian had been through enough already today and last night, and Heath didn’t really want him to talk, he just felt like Killian needed to.

Or Killian was going to talk anyways once he found the right words. There was the taste of anticipation heavy in the air between them, but Heath was fine with basking in the silence for now. Happy to let Killian mull it over as they walked down the archway of trees that lined the driveway to Felix’s estate. It was rather beautiful, a perfect place to wander and ponder, a good place to find words to speak.

The light was filtering through the tree’s leaves like shattered gem shards of topaz and the birds were chirping in the trees. It was shaping up to be a nice day, and with it, Heath felt a heavy longing for his mortality and let out a soft sigh.

“You…” Killian began, then faltered and stopped when Heath looked at him. “Thank you for everything you did, uh, did for me back there.”

“No problem,” said Heath easily in reply.

Killian spoke again and said: “no. I mean—” then he sighed and broke off again, so Heath stopped walking and turned to face the boy, pulling his little metal cigarette case from his back pocket.

Killian looked at Heath, an embarrassed blush colouring his cheekbones, right above where Wolfe had sliced into his cheek with his claw. Heath focused on the dried blood caked under the wound from the coagulation in his blood as he lit the cigarette between his teeth.

“I feel like “Thank you” isn’t enough for what you did for me.”

“It is enough.”

“No,” Killian protested, meeting Heath’s eyes with his blue ones and then looking away sheepishly, a hand going to the nape of his neck and rubbing it. “It isn’t. You said you would protect my s— my family no matter what happened…”

Heath nodded, exhaling smoke through his nostrils. “It’s what I would have wanted someone to do for me.”

“But you meant it…” Killian said, like it was a challenge and a gift much too sentimental and overwhelming for knowing someone for such a short time. “You said you would protect her— even after I didn’t tell you my first name or—”

“Hey, kid. It’s okay,” said Heath, voice gentle as he extended his hand to Killian. Killian looked up at Heath’s face then down at his hand and took it in his. The warmth of Killian’s palm was almost addictive, Heath longed for that comfort. He doubted Killian even valued how much his body worked to make sure it was heated at all times, not too hot, not too cold just perfect human temperature. Heath knew he never appreciated it, not until it was too late.

Something settled over Killian’s features, resolute and accepting as he gave Heath’s cold dead hand a good, firm shake.

Heath smiled softly, a little sadly, then dropped Killian’s hand.

“I was in the same position as you,” Heath continued, turning to walk further away from Felix’s mansion and prying ears. Killian easily fell into step beside him.

“In debt to Felix for family reasons that don’t matter anymore because my family is dead. Felix tried to tell me that before I signed my soul to him, but I refused to listen,” Heath said, voice turning wry towards the end of the sentence. He shot a smile over to Killian whose eyebrows were knitted together in sympathy. “Who knew, right?”

Heath took another long inhale of smoke into his lungs, filling his dead tissue husk with the burnt remnants of tobacco. Somehow the two dead things twisted and combining together warmed him and made him feel as close to alive as he was ever going to get.

Except for maybe blood… blood sang to every nerve and muscle and organ in his body, craved it, clung to it, and was never satisfied no matter how much or how little he drank. The point of satiation would be producing his own blood in his body, like back when he was, y’know— alive, and that wasn’t ever going to happen so yes.

Blood and, a close second, smoking cigarettes, made him feel alive.

Or as alive as he could feel.

He remembered last night. His old knife in his hand, his blood lighting up the runes of the Hunters’ blade. Remembered his heart beating and the blood rushing through his ears like phantom limbs. Remembered the rush of breathlessness as he sunk the blade into Wolfe’s strong body and watched him crumble around it.

Remembered zoning out during the Hunter’s high and crashing back into his body with a wave of nausea and exhaustion hitting him like a truck.

Heath knew he was made to kill vampires, as all Hunters are. As the Immortal Hunter he knew he would spend eternity fighting and killing every last bloodsucker on the planet, protecting humans as best as he could, and when all the vampires are dead, so too could Heath rest in peace eternally.

That was his purpose.

His sole mission.

When Felix killed him, he thought that was the end. That he failed and he doomed humanity to endure the vile, ruthless creatures in the night with no protector.

Wolfe yesterday seemed like a test, like the world was trying to figure out if he really wasn’t the immortal Hunter anymore, or if he was.

Heath nearly scoffed at his own thoughts. “Like the world was trying to figure out…” if the world was currently sitting at his dining table enjoying breakfast with Celeste and went by the name of Victor, then yes, as Felix would like to think of himself, the world really wanted to answer that burning question, and answer it he did.

It gave Heath something he forgot he ever had.

Hope.

Hope that one day, someday soon, he could repay Felix the favour of death and be able to continue this life without having to suffer sadistic vampire.

Heath paused in his steps, eyes staring at the gravel road in front of him. Killian stopped too, looking over his shoulder at Heath. Heath realised he looked a bit crazy then, so he tapped his cigarette and watched the ashes flutter to the ground, mixing with the wide-ranging palette of small grey stones.

The worst part was that Heath remembered. He remembered gripping the knife as Killian helped him to his feet, remembered holding onto it like a lifeline. He pushed Killian away and then tried to take a step and collapsed, and the knife…

“Heath? You okay?”

“Mmm,” Heath grumbled in reply. Maroon eyes finding inquisitive human ones peering back at him.

“The dagger that I killed Wolfe with,” Heath said, tilting his head, “did you see what I did with it?”

Killian turned to face Heath, folding his arms across his chest. “You— well, Felix told me it was part of some ritual you needed to complete.”

Heath let out a huff of breath from his nostrils, shaking his head. “I must have dropped it when I collapsed,” Heath said, taking in a quick puff of his cigarette. “Did you hear it clatter?”

“What’s so important about it?”

“It’s — uh, it’s like an extension of the Hunter’s arm. Very sacred, the dagger and the blood of a Hunter are what—” Heath looked at Killian and smiled, not wanting to get into it in detail. “Sorry. Long story short, it kills vampires.”

Killian frowned. “And Felix had it?”

“Yes,” Heath said with an exhale of smoke, slipping the cigarette between his teeth. “He did. But if you didn’t hear it clatter to the ground then Felix must have it again…”

“I doubt he’s the type to just leave it lying around, even if you did drop it.”

“You’d be right,” Heath said, stretching his hands to the sky and cracking his back, letting out a loud satisfied sigh as his wound up muscles loosened and cartilage cracked. “Ah, problem for another day. We can worry about that later.”

Heath started walking down the tree lined drive again with Killian following and falling into step beside him. “How can you be so nonchalant about that? Can’t that knife kill you?”

Heath shrugged. “A lot of things can kill me. That knife is not one of them. It’s the whole point of Hunter’s blood being needed for the dagger to work. Otherwise, it’s just a normal knife. If it killed Hunters, it wouldn’t be that useful.”

“But you’re a vampire now,” Killian said, and Heath’s dead heart stuttered at the blatant truth so easily flowing from Killian’s lips. “From what Felix was saying today you, well, it seemed like you should still be human.”

“Mmm, first of my kind. I’m truly unique.”

“Does it not scare you?”

“Death?” Heath asked with a breath of laughter. He stopped waking, took the last pull of his cigarette, down to the butt, close enough for his fingers to feel the burn before dropping it and extinguishing it beneath his shoe. “That’s a bit too philosophical of a topic for a Thursday morning, Killian.”

“No, I mean—” Heath smiled and put a hand on Killian’s shoulder silencing him.

“I know what you mean but trust me when I say that there are things worse than death when it comes to Victor Felix. You almost experienced it firsthand last night.”

“I… Wolfe attacked me last night; he was the one who took me and tied me up in the basement. He was the one who hurt me and—”

“Felix was the one willing to let Wolfe turn you or torture you to prove a point to me.”

The corner of Killian’s lips turned down into a scowl. “I’m not a pawn to be played in your and Felix’s game.”

“No, you’re not,” said Heath straightening up and taking his hand from Killian’s shoulder, to run it through his hair. “I’m just saying you should be more careful about what jobs you take for Felix.”

Killian went silent after that, and Heath didn’t press him further on it as they walked out of the imposing wrought iron gates that sealed the estate away from the local town.

The gates that made it such a formidable foe when Heath was running, trying to escape Felix in the night. Worn and tired, human lungs gasping for air and heart pounding blood and adrenaline to fuel his body. He remembered coming up to see the always open gates shut and padlocked tight with chains.

He remembers shaking the gate and cursing under his breath and then throwing caution to the wind, gripping the iron bars, and pulling himself up. He had only got a foot off the ground when a hand tightened in the back of his shirt, clenching the fabric into bunched up cold fist.

Heath froze.

He remembers hearing the low tsk of Felix and the smile in his voice. Felix didn’t do anything else. That small contact was enough to humiliate Heath, show him how powerless he really was.

“You can come back willingly, and I promise I’ll only bleed you a little,” Felix purred, voice as deadly as Heath’s vampire slaying blade. He remembers tightening his grip on the bars until his knuckles turned white. Heath pressed his forehead against the cold bars, lamenting his freedom which was right there in front of him. He could’ve reached out and grabbed it.

If he was fast enough.

If he was strong enough.

If he was better.

Heath shuddered out a shaky exhale, feeling less of Felix’s cold dead hands on him. Unnatural hands.

“Or you can do this in your own special way, Heath,” Felix continued, voice almost fond. “In your penchant for raising Cain and really make me work up an appetite…”

Heath let out a pathetic cry of frustration into the night, rattling the gates along with his scream at the gates that were closed to him by Felix, for Felix’s own amusement. He liked his prey to run, he had told Heath that much after he tried to run so many times, told him he liked the high that adrenaline gives to the blood. Makes it sweeter, almost frenzied.

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop feeding on you after you pass out if that’s the route you want to take, and you know, I would have to punish you for running away again once you wake up. You’ve been so good for me lately, Heath…” Felix’s fingers walked up Heath’s spine as far as they could and yanked Heath off the gate as if he wasn’t holding on at all.

Heath’s feet had barely hit the ground when in a flash he was pressed against the gate, his cheekbone digging into the metal as Felix rested his now clawed fingers on the nape of Heath’s neck. Heath pushed with all his might and struggled to get Felix off him, but Felix didn’t falter. It was as if Heath wasn’t struggling at all.

Felix leaned in and sniffed Heath’s neck, smiling against the thin skin between his major veins and arteries, pumping the blood, the terror, the adrenaline, the life through his veins.

“Hard way it is,” he hummed, yanking Heath off the gates and dragging him away from them, kicking and fighting and screaming. “Dear boy, a chase and a fight and a feast. You’re really spoiling me tonight.”

Heath remembered it like it was yesterday. It feels like it was yesterday. Or maybe it was the fact that even after Felix took his humanity and turned him into an unnatural immortal thing, last night when it came down to it, when it came to Heath being able to protect Killian from Wolfe and Felix’s schemes, he couldn’t do a thing to stop them.

The moment Felix threw a casual arm over his shoulder and wrapped it tight around his torso he knew he couldn’t fight him off, let alone Wolfe.

His humanity, his dignity, and his family— all traded for eternity as a leech, and still he was too weak to fight off the sadistic fucker who took everything he loved from him and left him with nothing except misery.

Heath looked at Killian walking beside him and he hated himself because he knew even now that the only reason Killian was walking with him back home, and not still tied up in Felix’s basement, is so Felix could dangle another good thing in Heath’s life to rip away. To leverage against him, to torture him with, to keep him in check and make sure he behaves.

Or else, went unsaid.

Behave or else Killian dies, or gets turned, or something worse that Felix could conjure up in his twisted mind. Heath just knew whatever it was would involve suffering.

The worst part was that as far as Felix was dangling another good thing in front of him, Heath was too stubborn or too stupid to not take the bait and get in too deep.

Maybe their sick little game was doomed to continue for eternity, with new calamity as collateral with every new generation of humans.

“My home is just…” Killian began, tearing Heath from his thoughts. Killian stopped himself short, glancing over his shoulder at Heath. Heath nodded encouragingly, waiting for the answer for a beat too long before he realised, and a smile spread across his face.

Heath nodded again, tilting his head at Killian. “You don’t want to tell me.”

“No,” said Killian after careful thought. “I don’t.”

“That’s okay.”

“Is it?”

“It is. Can you promise me you’ll get home safe?”

“Yes.”

“Can you promise Felix won’t come after you?”

Killian hesitated. Heath nodded and said, “then I’m coming, kid. Trust me it’s safer for us both.”

“How is it safer for me?” Killian demanded, nostrils flaring stepping closer to Heath, squaring up slightly. Heath grinned showing his fangs and took a small bit of sick pleasure at the slight falter on Killian’s face.

Heath stepped forward, closing the gap, exposing Heath’s clear height advantage, and stared down at Killian waiting for him to back down.

Killian didn’t.

Despite it all.

He didn’t back down and Heath couldn’t help letting out a soft happy laughter.

Killian frowned. “What?”

“I’m just impressed is all.”

“Thank you?” Killian asked.

Heath shook his head. “Never impress a vampire, Killian. If you listen to anything I say, listen to that. They’re obsessive things. Possessive things. They’ll steal your life to keep you because you’re entertaining.”

“You’re barely a vampire. You’re basically human.”

Heath sighed. “I was never human. I was a hunter, and then I was a vampire. Such is life. Now, you can either agree to show me where you live or I can wait — trust me, immortality gives you great patience — and I will follow you home when you eventually relent to check on your family —”

“Okay!” Killian huffed, throwing his hands up helplessly. “Fine! Why do you want to know so badly anyways?!”

Heath felt his face grow solemn, eyes turning poignant and lips almost pouting.

“I want to make sure Wolfe is dead and not coming for revenge, and I want to make sure Felix doesn’t come and take you away in the night. I don’t even need to go inside, just… let me watch over you tonight, and your family. Keep you safe.”

“I have work in the morning,” Killian said.

Heath shrugged, “then I’ll walk you to work.”

“You can’t protect me every minute of every day,” Killian reasoned, and Heath just shrugged again.

“I can try.”

Killian huffed, crossing his arms across his chest. “Is this another Hunter ritual thing?”

Heath smiled, a small genuine smile. “Yeah, something like that…”

Killian nodded, then turned and started walking. He gestured over his shoulder for Heath to follow and Heath did so in a comfortable silence, listening to the boy as he rambled on about how annoying the walk to work is in the morning, or when it’s raining.

Heath smiled as he spoke, unaware of the figure that was watching the pair between the trees.

[patchworkorphan]

The Immortal Hunter: part three

“Let the boy go, Wolfe. He doesn’t know anything about the immortal hunter,” said Heath, barely suppressing a growl. “He’s innocent.”

Wolfe laughed. “You say that as if innocence means anything to me, fledgling. I’ve been alive so long innocence and guilt bleed into the endless stream of time.”

“Would you like me to end your suffering then, or are you just going to make others suffer for your amusement?”

“Big talk for a bloodless vampire currently trapped by their sire,” said Wolfe, cruel grey eyes finding Heath’s and relishing in his wide-eyed surprise.

“Felix told me, of course. Your love for humanity, to the point where you abstain from drinking their blood. I bet you’re more attuned to it than even Felix or I, hmm? I bet you can hear poor Killian’s heart racing at the thought of being turned, at the injustice of it all. Every beat of blood pumping through his veins. Your restraint is astonishing.”

“If you’re trying to flirt, I have to let you know I draw the line at psychopaths.”

“And yet you just crawled out of Celeste’s bed.”

Heath lunged for the grey eyed vampire, but Felix managed to restrain him with such ease Heath thought he deserved Wolfe’s smug laughter.

“Touchy subject?”

Heath still struggled in Felix’s hold, but Felix just held him against his chest. Arms wrapped around his waist and shoulder like iron not budging in their grip. The helplessness transported Heath back to when he was human, and Felix would toy with him. Showing him how weak of a human he was, and how his heart was only still beating out of Felix’s mercy.

Heath vowed to never be so weak again, and yet here he was. Powerless, like before. He couldn’t even save the same fate from happening to Killian. A boy he had just met yesterday and doomed with an exchange of a couple words.

“Hush now, Heath. Calm down, you’ll only tire yourself out,” Felix whispered in his ear and Heath threw an elbow back trying to hit Felix’s face.

“You’re a bastard, Felix,” Heath seethed. “Yet you claim to have loved and missed me.”

“I did. You’re so cute when you’re riled up,” Felix said sweetly, ducking his nose into the place between Heath’s neck and shoulder and sniffed in a lungful of air. Heath froze. Paralysed from a forgotten fear, of when Felix was toying with him. “I sometimes regret turning you, it’s true. I miss when you were powerless to stop me. Frozen like this beneath me. Muscles tensed. At least you still have that amazing scent of the old blood.”

“Fuck you,” Heath muttered when he found his voice again, and he thanked the gods that his voice didn’t shake. Lifting his head, he looked at Wolfe through narrowed eyes. “You want to know about The Immortal Hunter? Fine. He’s dead.”

Wolfe blinked at him. Then he started laughing, that same booming laughter ricocheting around the basement. Felix behind Heath however, tightened his grip ever so slightly.

Good, Heath thought. At least one of these idiots believe me.

“You really wanna gamble poor Killian’s life on the hunter, the immortal hunter being dead? Do you take me for a fool, boy?”

“Yes,” Heath said easily. He wanted to throw a parade when his cool façade slipped over his face, he could do this. He could save Killian. “But I’m telling you the truth. The Immortal hunter’s blood runs through my veins, that’s why my blood even now is a beacon to you bloodfuckers. I’m your natural enemy. My blood sings to you so you come close enough to get drunk on it, and then the hunter kills you.”

Wolfe stared, looking over Heath’s shoulder at Felix then back to Heath. His face morphing into a more serious expression.

“You’re not saying that you were the immortal hunter?”

“You were always very strong for a human,” Felix murmured, more to himself than anyone else.

“No. That’s not true. You’re lying,” Wolfe growled, crossing the room in an instant with two long strides and getting up in Heath’s face. “You can’t be. The immortal hunter can’t be a vampire. They can’t be turned.”

Heath’s expression turned grim. “Yeah. I guess we both thought wrong, hmm?” Heath said, voice cracking in the middle. He looked away from Wolfe’s unsettling stare.

Felix shifted behind Heath. Slowly he took his cage like arms away, releasing Heath. Heath turned in surprise, but Felix wasn’t looking at Heath. He was looking at Wolfe.

“Wolfe. A word,” he said, and he didn’t wait for a response as he walked towards the basement door. Wolfe looked at Heath, then at the wall Felix disappeared behind. He grabbed Heath by the collar of his shirt and brought him close.

“If you untie the boy, I’ll make sure he is turned. Stay here.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Heath replied, hands up in surrender. Heath waited until he heard the basement door open and shut a second time before looking at Killian still tied to the chair and strolling over.

“I’m sorry,” Heath said, plopping down onto the ground in front of Killian sitting cross legged.

Killian shrugged. “I know the risks of partying with vampires.”

“Still. I’m sorry. Here,” Heath bit his wrist, deep enough for the blood to flow and offered it to Killian, but Killian sat back further in his chair, shaking his head. “It’ll heal you.”

“I don’t do vampire blood,” Killian said. “I don’t want to risk it.”

Heath looked at him for a moment then smiled sadly and pulled his wrist back.

“I didn’t either,” he said softly. “As a human I mean. Felix would force me to drink his after he was done torturing me. He wanted me fresh every day, to be clean. So, he could start from scratch again the next day.”

“Jesus. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. But I admire your principles. Except telling a vampire your name. How did Wolfe find out?”

Killian looked away. Lips scrunching up in annoyance.

“He told me he was human. Didn’t have red eyes. Didn’t know vampires could have normal eyes. He said he was staff too.”

“If it’s any consolation, I didn’t know vampires could have normal eyes either.”

“You mean you don’t know what he is?”

“Very old?” Heath offered, watching the blood drip down his wrist, stopping the wound from healing. “Perhaps familiar with magic. Contacts? Who knows.”

Killian started laughing. It was light and airy, and full of mirth, and when he caught Heath’s eyes, he started laughing harder. Heath smiled, and unbeknownst to himself the wound healed.

After the last couple of stray laughs died on his lips, Killian’s face settled into a fond smile. Then the smile faded, and his face turned sad. “Wolfe’s going to kill me, isn’t he?”

Heath let out a breath through his nose. “Not if I have anything to say about it.”

“Maybe I should drink your blood,” Killian said. “At least then my sister wouldn’t—”

Heath shook his head, and Killian’s breathing became harder. “Right,” Killian said, his voice breaking. “Family isn’t worth it, right? They won’t thank me for it, right? Death is preferable. Maybe in your experience…”

“Killian. . .”

“But it’s my life! My death! I should get the choice at least?” he said, but it came out as more of a question. Heath searched his face with sad eyes. This was cruel. At least when Heath was turned his choice was taken from him. He knew what he was getting into. This boy didn’t. This human boy, so afraid of death because he didn’t want to leave his family behind.

“If they kill you –” Heath began softly, looking Killian in the eye. “If they turn you, no matter what they do… tell me your family name and I will make sure your sister lives a long, happy life.”

Killian broke down into sobs then, and Heath was there, patting his leg uselessly.

“Thank you,” he mumbled gratefully. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“Touching.”

Heath was on his feet in a second, back to Killian, standing protectively in front of him as Felix and Wolfe strolled back into the room.

“Catch.”

Heath’s hand shot out before he registered what Felix had said. He looked down at the object and saw a sheathed dagger. The same dagger Heath had brought with him to kill Felix when he was still breathing.

He pulled it out an inch and saw his red eyes staring back at him with a pale face. Then he looked at the two vampires, Felix stood leaning on the wall with his arms crossed while Wolfe stood closer to Heath making himself as imposing as possible.

“Cheers.”

“It’s not a gift,” Wolfe said, voice low with that unstable growl. “Prove you’re the immortal hunter.”

“How can I prove it? Do you want me to kill you, Wolfie?”

Felix laughed catching everyone’s attention. He only reacted to Wolfe’s death stare. Felix raised a hand in his defence, “What? It was funny.”

Wolfe rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to Heath. “The Immortal Hunter’s blood activates the knife.”

Heath shrugged. “So?”

“So—”

Heath didn’t have time to react before Wolfe was in front of him, claws out and slashed them down Heath’s arm.

“FUCK!” Heath yelled, dropping the knife in surprise as his eyes went to his arm. Wolfe’s claws had torn from the top of his elbow to his wrist which was currently gushing blood. “You bastard that hurt!”

“Cry me a river,” Wolfe said leaning down to pick up the knife and pressed it into Heath’s other hand. “Activate it. Now.”

“A little patience never goes astray.”

Heath’s head rocked back after Wolfe’s swift punch, forcing him to one knee as the world shook around him.

“Now, please.”

Heath shook his head out trying to reorient himself and then he looked down at the knife. “Well since you said please…”

“I don’t even think you’re worth the trouble alive,” Wolfe sneered, and Heath sniffed, blood running down his nose from Wolfe’s powerful punch.

“Technically I’m dead.”

Wolfe brought his hand back to punch him again, but Felix’s voice stopped him.

“Heath. Please. Just prove you’re the hunter or I’ll snap Killian’s pretty little neck.”

Heath glared at Felix over Wolfe’s shoulder, but he might as well have glared at a wall or a fish. Felix returned his stare completely unbothered. He even looked amused.

“Fine,” said Heath. He unsheathed the dagger and allowed the stream from his wrist to bleed down onto the knife. The black, red blood turned almost luminous when it hit the knife, the runes previously unseen igniting as Heath’s blood ran through every invisible crevice now made visible. When the blood had run its course over the surface instead of dripping to the floor, it sank into the metal as of the blade itself were liquid and grew heavier in Heath’s hand as he made his arm heal with the last of his energy.

He glanced up at Wolfe then, who looked on in an angry sort of shock, while Felix who had been far away before was suddenly right beside Heath watching the runes being revealed before his eyes.

“Incredible,” Felix whispered in awe, looking at Heath with something indiscernible in his eyes.

“So, it’s true,” Wolfe gruffed.

“What can I say,” Heath said easily. “I’m an honest kind of guy,” then he plunged the knife deep into Wolfe’s heart.

*~*~*~*~*

Continued Here