A/N: Wow so I wrote this all in one sitting after finishing the Blood of Eden series. I hope it doesn't have too many mistakes, and hopefully doesn't seem really rushed or anything. Frankly I think it's crazy how few fanfictions there are for this series considering how great it was.
Anyway, I know probably only like twenty people are actually going to read this, but if you do please tell me what you think.
Disclaimer: I do not own the Blood of Eden series. I also don't own Julie Kagawa. I am not attempting to make money off this, although I would be open to someday becoming a famous author.
Cimmerian: adj. of, pertaining to, or suggestive of a group of people believed to dwell in perpetual darkness
A dark figure whistled happily to himself as he made his way down a narrow path, taking in the sights. Ax safely at his side, leather duster billowing in the cool breeze. He ran a hand through his hair, causing the dark mess to stick out in every direction.
Taking note of the Hunger raising it's demon head, he glanced at the residential buildings in search of an open window. Breaking and entering was such a hassle; often the humans woke up and caused a commotion. And that could result in a bit of a mess.
Jackal was quite happy with the new circumstances of his existence. No longer on the verge of death, able to create a vampire with all the ease vampires had before Rabidism. Not that he had, yet.
After the unfortunate turnout with the raiders in Old Chicago, he'd decided to wait awhile before building up his own vampire army. Stupid meatsacks were hard enough to control as it was. He definitely didn't need hordes of uncontrollable vampires all in his business. Without a doubt, at least one of them would take it upon themselves to challenge him. It just wouldn't do for his minions to rise up against him, would it? Jackal wondered why he hadn't caught this particular problem before he'd put so much effort into rallying the hundreds of humans in his flooded city. Wouldn't be as much of a problem for a Master, of course, but her just wasn't so lucky, was he?
Oh well. Didn't really matter in the end, did it? The bloodbags would go on with their pitiful lives, or not, as the case may be, and he would continue to exist.
His thoughts drifted to his little sister, as they often did these days, since he'd left her in Eden. She, of course, was the perfect prodigy of Kanin. Having ascended to Master, she'd have no trouble keeping a bunch of Mongrels in line. He wondered how she and the puppy planned to spread the cure. They certainly had a lot of work ahead of them. A smirk played across his face as he thought about the fact that it wasn't his problem anymore.
He silently made his way through the winding roads of Italy, third stop in his Tour Of Europe.
Upon setting foot in Spain, the first stop, he'd been quite surprised at the lack of uncontrollable Rabid population. In hindsight, he supposed he shouldn't have been. The vampires here were much older and wiser than those in the Americas, with an organized network spread across the area. After the initial outbreak of Rabidism, it was quickly contained. Walls were erected, similar to what he'd seen in his little sister's hometown, but decidedly mush more effective. Key towns were flooded and burned to the ground: those with dramatic outbreaks of the new disease.
The vampires here were also a bit more...civilized. The vampire cities in this part of the world were not ruled with an iron fist. In fact, the humans here had quite a bit of freedom compared to what he'd seen in places like New Covington. Vampires did not attack humans in the open; those things were kept very quiet, just like before Rabidism existed. Now though, humans were encouraged to donate at their local blood bank. Those who chose to do so were rewarded greatly with extra food and other accommodations.
It was quite the culture shock, to say the least. But, all in all, not entirely unpleasant. This form of civilization had allowed him the luxury of getting in touch with the past, which he'd never gotten the chance to do before. He'd gotten into some old records, and traced his lineage back quite a ways.
The street he walked down now was quiet in the peaceful way, instead of quiet with the sense of prey hiding from its predator. A few bloodbags strolled by here and there, apparently unconcerned with the vampire walking past them. He wasn't sure how he felt about their lack of fear. For his entire vampire life he'd been feared and revered by those who knew well enough. In the past, those who didn't met an unfortunate end, but those in charge here frowned upon that kind of thing. It wouldn't do to scare the livestock into fleeing, would it?
Jackal's ears perked up at the sound of a scuffle. Meatsacks getting in a row, hm? It had been awhile since he'd seen some good entertainment. He followed the screams and grunts around a corner and into a dark alley, where he blended seamlessly into the shadows along the wall. When his eyes sought out the source of the noises he'd followed, they narrowed in disgust.
A large man pinned another, much smaller figure against the wall of the alley. The smaller body- a female, he supposed- wriggled and struggled against the weight of the other person. One large hand held both the girl's wrists above her head; the other clamped against her mouth to muffle cries of pain, or perhaps shouts of outrage, considering the way her feet kicked as she thrashed about.
Combat boot clad feet. His eyes zeroed in on those shoes. They were old and used, same as his sister's. He remembered them from the last time he'd seen her on the shore of Lake Eerie. Torn from her fight to the death with Sarren. And suddenly the situation was completely unacceptable to him.
His face twisted into a sneer as the man thrust harshly into the weaker party, prompting her to cry out in pain.
He'd always found this particular act distasteful. It was so ugly, and...uncivilized. One might think that rich coming from him, considering the pleasure he took in spilling hot blood, and his high body count, but all that was exactly what it was suppose to be. Killing was what it was, all blood and gore, and there was really no mistaking it. But sex was supposed to be pleasurable for all involved- at least that was the rule he'd always gone by. Then to see this... It was all wrong. It was entirely selfish, and not in a good way.
Fangs bared, excitement thrumming through his body, he took a careful step forward. The girl grunted, and must've bitten down on the hand covering her mouth, for the scent of blood swept over him. Gold eyes glinting in the dim light, he pounced, landing silently behind the man. His eyes locked onto the girl's over one broad shoulder. They were bright and angry.
He grinned demonically, tapping into the Hunger with practiced ease, and in one smooth motion, wrapped his arms firmly around the man's middle and yanked him backward. Fangs slid into salty flesh, damp with sweat. Hot liquid rushed into his mouth, and before the man had a chance to yell, he clamped a hand over his mouth. Jackal swallowed several mouthfuls, careful to stop before completely draining the bastard. He licked the wounds closed before taking a firm hold of the man's head and twisting sharply. There was a loud pop, and then the body dropped to the ground with a thump.
Satisfaction coursed through him along with the new blood. Having been sated with a meal, the demon inside settled once again.
He raised his eyes to once again meet the girl's gaze. She stared up at him from where she'd crumpled to the ground. Her dark curtain of hair was mussed horribly from the struggle, although he thought it would be a straight sheet under other circumstances. Like his sister. The look in her eyes also reminded him strongly of the little sister he'd left behind: defiant, ready to fight till the very end. An animal raged behind her eyes. His lips twisted into their signature smirk.
When the human girl seemed content to continue sitting there, he rolled his eyes and held out a hand. "As stimulating as this staring contest is, I'm sure you have somewhere to be, am I right, beasty?"
She blinked and seemed to break out of her trance. Taking his offered hand, she rose, stumbling on unsteady feet. He released her once she'd put a hand on the wall for balance. He turned, but paused at the sound of her voice. "You're a vampire."
"Way to state the obvious." Stupid meatstacks and their useless comments.
"I mean, why did you help me?" Her voice was strong, despite what had just transpired. She didn't seem to be frightened at all. He considered the fire in her eyes, and briefly wondered about her thoughts on immortality. Shaking his head, he pushed the thought away. Now was not the time.
"Let's just say you're lucky enough to have reminded me of someone." He spared a glance for the body on the ground and licked his lips. "And I was feeling a bit peckish."
"Thank you," she said. "Can I at least get the name of my savior?"
Struck by sudden inspiration, he turned to her with a smirk. "James. Now, you may want to go inside, if you value your life. Nasty things come out at night."
Without another word he turned and strode silently down the street, leaving the human to find her own way home. It wasn't like he was a fucking valet, after all. Just a knight in shining armor, ready to save any and all damsels in distress. He snorted at the thought, and continued on into the Cimmerian Shade.