ATTENTION: I do not own any of this. The plot is from one of my favorite books and I'm just replacing the characters from the book with Attack on Titan characters. The book I am using is called Vampire Academy by Richelle Mead, and this is the first chapter.
Chapter 1: The Bond
I felt him before I heard his screams.
His nightmare pulsed into me, shaking me out of my own dream, which had had something to do with a beach and some hot guy rubbing suntan oil on me. Images—his, not mine—tumbled through my mind: fire and blood, the smell of smoke, the twisted metal of a car. The pictures wrapped around me, suffocating me, until some rational part of my brain reminded me that this wasn't my dream.
I woke up, strands of chocolate brown hair sticking to my forehead.
Armin lay in his bed, thrashing and screaming. I bolted out of mine, quickly crossing the few feet that separated us.
"Armin" I said, shaking him. "Armin, wake up."
His screams dropped off, replaced by soft whimpers. "Mom, dad" he moaned. "Oh God."
I helped him sit up. "Armin, you aren't there anymore. Wake up."
After a few moments, his eyes fluttered open, and in the dim lighting, I could see a flicker of consciousness start to take over. His frantic breathing slowed, and he leaned into me, resting his head against my shoulder. I put an arm around him and ran a hand over his blonde hair.
"It's okay," I told him gently. "Everything's okay."
"I had that dream."
"Yeah. I know."
We sat like that for several minutes, not saying anything else. When I felt his emotions calm down, I leaned over to the nightstand between our beds and turned on the lamp. It glowed dimly, but neither of us really needed much to see by. Attracted by the light, our housemate's cat, Sebastian, leapt up onto the sill of the open window. He gave me a wide berth—animals don't like dhampirs, for whatever reason—but jumped onto the bed and rubbed his head against Armin, purring softly. Animals didn't have a problem with Moroi, and they all loved Armin in particular. Smiling, Armin scratched Sebastian's chin, and I felt Armin calm further.
"When did we last do a feeding?" I asked, studying his face. His fair skin was paler than usual. Dark circles hung under his eyes, and there was an air of frailty about him. School had been hectic this week, and I couldn't remember the last time I'd given him blood. "It's been like…more than two days, hasn't it? Three? Why didn't you say anything?"
He shrugged and wouldn't meet my eyes. "You were busy. I didn't want to—"
"Screw that," I said, shifting into a better position. No wonder he seemed so weak. Sebastian, not wanting me any closer, leapt down and returned to the window, where he could watch at a safe distance. "Come on. Let's do this."
"Eren—"
"Come on. It'll make you feel better."
I tilted my head and tossed my hair back, baring my neck. I saw him hesitate, but the sight of my neck and what it offered proved too powerful. A hungry expression crossed his face, and his lips parted slightly, exposing the fangs he normally kept hidden while living among humans. Those fangs contrasted oddly with the rest of his features. With his face and blond hair, he looked more like an angel than a vampire.
As his teeth neared my bare skin, I felt my heart race with a mix of fear and anticipation. I always hated feeling the latter, but it was nothing I could help, a weakness I couldn't shake.
His fangs bit into me, hard, and I cried out at the brief flare of pain. Then it faded, replaced by a wonderful, golden joy that spread through my body. It was better than any of the times I'd been drunk or high. Better than sex—or so I imagined, since I'd never done it. It was a blanket of pure, refined pleasure, wrapping me up and promising everything would be right in the world. On and on it went. The chemicals in his saliva triggered an endorphin rush, and I lost track of the world, lost track of who I was.
Then, regretfully, it was over. It had taken less than a minute.
He pulled back, wiping his hand across his lips as he studied me. "You okay?"
"I…yeah." I lay back on the bed, dizzy from the blood loss. "I just need to sleep it off. I'm fine."
His pale, aqua-blue eyes watched me with concern. He stood up. "I'm going to get you something to eat."
My protests came awkwardly to my lips, and he left before I could get out a sentence. The buzz from his bite had lessened as soon as he broke the connection, but some of it still lingered in my veins, and I felt a goofy smile cross my lips. Turning my head, I glanced up at Sebastian, still sitting in the window.
"You don't know what you're missing," I told him.
His attention was on something outside. Hunkering down into a crouch, he puffed out his jet-black fur. His tail started twitching.
My smile faded, and I forced myself to sit up. The world spun, and I waited for it to right itself before trying to stand. When I managed it, the dizziness set in again and this time refused to leave. Still, I felt okay enough to stumble to the window and peer out with Sebastian. Sebastian eyed me warily, scooted over a little, and then returned to whatever had held his attention.
A warm breeze—unseasonably warm for a Portland fall—played with my hair as I leaned out. The street was dark and relatively quiet. It was three in the morning, just about the only time a college campus settled down, at least somewhat. The house in which we'd rented a room for the past eight months sat on a residential street with old, mismatched houses. Across the road, a streetlight flickered, nearly ready to burn out. It still cast enough light for me to make out the shapes of cars and buildings. In our own yard, I could see the silhouettes of trees and bushes.
And a man watching me.
I jerked back in surprise. A figure stood by a tree in the yard, about thirty feet away, where he could easily see through the window. He was close enough that I probably could have thrown something and hit him. He was certainly close enough that he could have seen what Armin and I had just done.
The shadows covered him so well that even with my heightened sight, I couldn't make out any of his features, save for his height. He was short. Really short. He stood there for just a moment, barely discernible, and then stepped back, disappearing into the shadows cast by the trees on the far side of the yard. I was pretty sure I saw someone else move nearby and join him before the blackness swallowed them both.
Whoever these figures were, Sebastian didn't like them. Not counting me, he usually got along with most people, growing upset only when someone posed an immediate danger. The guy outside hadn't done anything threatening to Sebastian, but the cat had sensed something, something that put him on edge.
Something similar to what he always sensed in me.
Icy fear raced through me, almost—but not quite—eradicating the lovely bliss of Armin's bite. Backing up from the window, I jerked on a pair of jeans that I found on the floor, nearly falling over in the process. Once they were on, I grabbed my coat and Armin's, along with our wallets. Shoving my feet into the first shoes I saw, I headed out the door.
Downstairs, I found Armin in the cramped kitchen, rummaging through the refrigerator. One of our housemates, Mike, sat at the table, hand on his forehead as he stared sadly at a calculus book. Armin regarded me with surprise.
"You shouldn't be up."
"We have to go. Now."
His eyes widened, and then a moment later, understanding clicked in. "Are you…really? Are you sure?"
I nodded. I couldn't explain how I knew for sure. I just did.
Mike watched us curiously. "What's wrong?"
An idea came to mind. "Armin, get his car keys."
He looked back and forth between us. "What are you—"
Armin unhesitatingly walked over to him. His fear poured into me through our psychic bond, but there was something else too: his complete faith that I would take care of everything, that we would be safe. Like always, I hoped I was worthy of that kind of trust.
He smiled broadly and gazed directly into Mike's eyes. For a moment, Mike just stared, still confused, and then I saw the thrall seize him. His eyes glazed over, and he regard Armin adoringly.
"We need to borrow your car," he said in a gentle voice. "Where are your keys?"
Mike smiled, and I shivered. I had a high resistance to compulsion, but I could still feel its effects when it was directed at another person. That, and I'd been taught my entire life that using it was wrong. Reaching into his pocket, Mike handed over a set of keys hanging on a large red key chain.
"Thank you," said Armin. "And where is it parked?"
"Down the street," Mike said dreamily. "At the corner. By Brown." Four blocks away.
"Thank you," Armin said, backing up. "As soon as we leave, I want you to go back to studying. Forget you ever saw us tonight."
He nodded obligingly. I got the impression he would have walked off a cliff for her right then if he'd asked. All humans were susceptible to compulsion, but Mike appeared weaker than most. That came in handy right now.
"Come on," I told him. "We've got to move."
We stepped outside, heading toward the corner Mike had said. I was still dizzy from the bite and kept stumbling, unable to move as quickly as I wanted. Armin had to catch hold of me a few times to stop me from falling. All the time, that anxiety rushed into me from his mind. I tried my best to ignore it; I had my own fears to deal with.
"Eren… what are we going to do if they catch us?" he whispered.
"They won't," I said fiercely. "I won't let them."
"But if they've found us—"
"They found us before. They didn't catch us then. We'll just drive over to the train station and go to L.A. They'll lose the trail."
I made it sound simple. I always did, even though there was nothing simple about being on the run from the people we'd grown up with. We'd been doing it for two years, hiding wherever we could and just trying to finish high school. Our senior year had just started, and living on a college campus had seemed safe. We were so close to freedom.
He said nothing more, and I felt his faith in me surge up once more. This was the way it had always been between us. I was the one who took action, who made sure things happened—sometimes recklessly so. He was the more reasonable one, the one who thought things out and researched them extensively before acting. Both styles had their uses, but at the moment, recklessness was called for. We didn't have time to hesitate.
Armin and I had been best friends ever since kindergarten, when our teacher had paired us together for writing lessons. Forcing five-year-olds to spell Armin Arlet and Eren Jaeger was beyond cruel, and we'd—or rather, I'd—responded appropriately. I'd chucked my book at our teacher and called her a fascist bastard. I hadn't known what those words meant, but I'd known how to hit a moving target.
Armin and I had been inseparable ever since.
"Do you hear that?" he asked suddenly.
It took me a few seconds to pick up what his sharper senses already had. Footsteps, moving fast. I grimaced. We had two more blocks to go.
"We've got to run for it," I said, catching hold of his arm.
"But you can't—"
"Run."
It took every ounce of my willpower not to pass out on the sidewalk. My body didn't want to run after losing blood or while still metabolizing the effects of his saliva. But I ordered my muscles to stop their bitching and clung to Armin as our feet pounded against the concrete. Normally I could have outrun him without any extra effort—particularly since he was barefoot—but tonight, he was all that held me upright.
The pursuing footsteps grew louder, closer. Black stars danced before my eyes. Ahead of us, I could make out Mike's green Honda. Oh God, if we could just make it—
Ten feet from the car, a man stepped directly into our path. We came to a screeching halt, and I jerked Armin back by his arm. It was him, the guy I'd seen across the street watching me. He was older than us, maybe mid-twenties, and as short as I'd figured, probably five-three or five-four. And under different circumstances—say, when he wasn't holding up our desperate escape—I would have thought he was hot. Jet black hair with an undercut. Piercing grey eyes. A long brown coat-a duster, I thought it was called.
But his hotness was irrelevant now. He was only an obstacle keeping Armin and me away from the car and our freedom. The footsteps behind us slowed, and I knew our pursuers had caught up. Off to the sides, I detected more movement, more people closing in. God. They'd sent almost a dozen guardians to retrieve us. I couldn't believe it. The royals themselves didn't travel with that many.
Panicked and not entirely in control of my higher reasoning, I acted out of instinct. I pressed up to Armin, keeping him behind me and away from the man who appeared to be the leader.
"Leave him alone," I growled. "Don't touch him."
His face was unreadable, but he held out his hands in what was apparently supposed to be some sort of calming gesture, like I was a rabid animal he was planning to sedate.
"I'm not going to—"
He took a step forward. Too close.
I attacked him, leaping out in an offensive maneuver I hadn't used in two years, not since Armin and I had run away. The move was stupid, another reaction born of instinct and fear. And it was hopeless. He was a skilled guardian, not a novice who hadn't finished his training. He also wasn't weak and on the verge of passing out.
And man, was he fast. I'd forgotten how fast guardians could be, how they could move and strike like cobras. He knocked me off as though brushing away a fly, and his hands slammed into me and sent me backwards. I don't think he meant to strike that hard—probably just intended to keep me away—but my lack of coordination interfered with my ability to respond. Unable to catch my footing, I started to fall, heading straight toward the sidewalk at a twisted angle, hip-first. It was going to hurt. A lot.
Only it didn't.
Just as quickly as he'd blocked me, the man reached out and caught my arm, keeping me upright. When I'd steadied myself, I noticed he was staring at me—or, more precisely, at my neck. Still disoriented, I didn't get it right away. Then, slowly, my free hand reached up to the side of my throat and lightly touched the wound Armin had made earlier. When I pulled my fingers back, I saw slick, dark blood on my skin. Embarrassed, I shook my hair so that it fell forward around my face. My hair was thick and long, for a boy, and completely covered my neck. I'd grown it out, within reason, for precisely if they I was ever in this situation. It came in handy.
The guy's silver, thin eyes lingered on the now-covered bite a moment longer and then met mine. I returned his look defiantly and quickly jerked out of his hold. He let me go, though I knew he could have restrained me all night if he'd wanted. Fighting the nauseating dizziness, I backed toward Armin again, bracing myself for another attack. Suddenly, Armin's hand caught hold of mine. "Eren," he said quietly. "Don't."
His words had no effect on me at first, but calming thoughts gradually began to settle in my mind, coming across through the bond. It wasn't exactly compulsion—he wouldn't use that on me—but it was effectual, as was the fact that we were hopelessly outnumbered and outclassed. Even I knew struggling would be pointless. The tension left my body, and I sagged in defeat.
Sensing my resignation, the man stepped forward, turning his attention to Armin. His face was calm. He swept her a bow and managed to look graceful doing it. "My name is Levi Ackerman," he said. I could hear a faint French accent. "I've come to take you back to St. Vladimir's Academy, Prince."
