Title: The Color of Desire
Rating: PG-13 (for now, though it will most certainly go up)
Warnings: Violence, swearing, murder
Spoilers: General Season 2
Word Count: 2,200
Summary: Having so many vampires living together is always a problem. It causes fighting, violence, and a whole lot of strain. But when you add to humans to the coven…well, things start to get bloody.
A/N: I'm absolutely insane. That's all I can say about this. Title comes from 'Red and Black' by the cast of Les Miserables.
A bloodcurdling shriek woke the household.
Well, blood would have curdled, if any of the members of the household had blood running through their veins. But it certainly was a very loud shriek, and it was soon joined with another distinct high pitched voice, screaming at volumes unbefitting for the early hours of the morning. It was absolutely ridiculous, and as everyone knew, vampires were always cranky in the mornings.
Within moments, most of the household had made their ways to the kitchen, where the fight was taking place. Several of the vampires began cheering the two fighting females on, while others attempted to stop the fight to no avail. It was very hard be a road block to Quinn Fabray or Rachel Berry separately, but when they were fighting, it was asking for an execution sentence.
The fight went on for a few more brief moments, climaxing when Rachel tore off the blonde vampire's arm. There was a fierce shriek from Quinn, and her miniature who was watching the fight with horror. Deciding that it was time for the melee to end, Wes glanced at David, and the pair of them escaped the fray, and began making their way up the stairs.
The penthouse was elegantly furnished, and looked like a mansion from the inside, taking up three floors. It was bought in an apartment that catered specifically to vampires, and was soundproof, in order to halt any possible complaints from neighbors. With so many vampires living together, there was always something going on.
Wes and David passed the second floor where all of their bedrooms were, and taking a deep breath, they ascended the grand staircase that led to the uppermost wing. Neither of them were one hundred percent certain that they would be coming down with their own legs, or in a box, dead from their leader's wrath. He was a cold hearted son of a bitch, and while he genuinely cared for his coven, he did not spare them mercy. In fact, he had no mercy.
As they approached his bedroom, they each took a deep breath. They were doing this for the good of the coven. The fight that Quinn and Rachel had engaged in was the worst one the coven had seen in months. Fighting had always been the norm among a 'family' as dysfunctional and practically incestuous as they were.
Vampires did not form covens. Well, not hardly. On occasion a coven of three or four was formed, but a coven of fifteen was practically unheard of. But there they were, all alive and fine. They had the utmost respect of vampires everywhere. Whether or not vampires were plotting to bring them down, or hated them, they were still respected.
Not every vampire could say that they wanted a large coven and make it happen. Their leader had charisma, and a powerful mate at his side. He led the coven with a firm unbending hand, kept everyone in line, and kept order among them. But there was a point where order dissolved into chaos. And at that point, the hand needed to be brought down upon them, as Artie would say.
Standing outside the large oak doors though, both Wes and David were reluctant to bring that hand down. Though both girls irritated them, they cared for Rachel and Quinn. They didn't want to see them gone, like Matt. He had been their brother too, but he had crossed the line with the few words he ever spoke, and he had been gone. And now with Rachel and Quinn, who had been stomping on everyone's frayed nerves, well, they feared for the lives of their sisters.
But it was a necessary procedure, however reluctant they were to carry it out. Taking a deep breath, David rapped on the door twice, short and sharp, before pushing the large, heavy doors open.
The room was bathed in almost complete darkness, but they could make out the distinct shape of a bed, and two slumbering forms in it. Wes paused for a moment, assessing the room, before two bright spots of light were suddenly fixed upon him.
Wes inhaled sharply, though the air running through his lungs was unnecessary. Sensing his friend's hesitance, David swallowed, and decided that he would have to be the one to speak up to their leader.
"Blaine?" He whispered, though he knew that their leader could hear them as if he had shouted. "We are sorry to wake you, but there is a disturbance downstairs. Quinn and Rachel have begun fighting again, this time worse than the others." Worse than what they had seen in years.
Within moments, Blaine had risen from his bed, and ran with incredible speed, pulling Wes and David along with him. They halted on the second floor, and the two lower ranked vampires were met with Blaine's steady glare, his eyes pure red in anger.
"You woke me up, you risked waking up your leader and his other half, to end a fight?" He asked, his tones low and fierce, like nails on a chalkboard, causing the hair on both Wes and David's necks to stand on end.
Suddenly more shrieks could be heard from downstairs, and the red in Blaine's eyes dimmed slightly. He shot the two boys a glare. "You are not forgiven for this, but I will deal with your insubordination at a later time. At the moment I have more pressing matters to attend to."
And with that he practically vanished, running downstairs. Wes and David exchanged a glance, questioning whether or not to follow him, but they decided it was necessary, and were soon hot on his heels.
When they arrived in the kitchen, the fighting had stopped, and all eyes were trained on Blaine. Puck, catching a glimpse of the two of them in the doorway, shot them an evil glance, one that would make most humans tremble in their wake. But Wes was an older vampire than Puckerman, and David knew for a fact he was favored over the Jewish vampire.
"What is the meaning of this?" Blaine demanded, his voice cold and fierce. Rachel and Quinn winced, and cast their eyes down to the ground. They knew they were to blame, but they did not like being reprimanded by their leader. None of them did.
Blaine's eyes brightened into a brighter red than the darkened burgundy as he stared the two young ladies down. "Explain. Now."
Quinn bit her lip, and opened her mouth to explain, but Rachel jumped in before she had the chance to voice her opinion on the matter. "Noah and I simply decided to have a little fun, and Quinn completely overreacted! She knows the kind of vampire Puck is, but she completely went crazy!"
And suddenly Quinn was shrieking and jumping on Rachel's back, and the bedlam was started again, nearly everyone disregarding their leader in front of them, his eyes glowing like hot coals, as he observed the pandemonium in front of him with fury.
"Enough!" He cried, his voice harsh, cold and commanding. They were all vampires who could hold their own, but Blaine was their leader, and had been for centuries. To ignore him when he had so blatantly given a command would be folly; it would be a signature on an execution page.
"This has gone far enough. The bickering, the fighting, this is the last straw." Every vampire in the room tensed. "My mate and I will be deciding what to do, but rest assured that something will be done. For now…Rachel, Puck is Quinn's mate. Whether or not he is an Incubus is not a matter of your concern. You have a mate, did you even think about how this would affect Finn?"
Apparently Finn did not think about how it all would affect himself, because his expression of confusion was slowly melting off into a pissed off rage. Evidently this was the first he was hearing of his mate's infidelity. With his closest companion of all people. In an attempt to ward off another fight, Blaine rose his hand, in an attempt to keep the peace about them.
"And Quinn, you know better than to attack your sister? I don't care what she did, this coven cannot operate successfully if we are all at each other's throats every waking moment of the day! I'm beginning to think that there are too many members of the coven."
There was a hush among the vampires, and Puck was the first one to speak. "Maybe if you and your mate were a little less argumentative, then we would work better."
There was a gasp, and absolute silence followed. Blaine's eyes were narrowed to slits, and practically blazing at Puck. In his defense, he held his ground steady, and refused to waver.
"Well it's true isn't it? A coven is only as strong as its weakest link! And frankly, the two of you together make us weak. You're not a good enough pairing. You're putting the rest of us at risk. If someone has to go, then why not-"
Suddenly Blaine was in front of Puck, twisting his granite arm behind his back. "You would do well to mind your place, Puckerman." Blaine hissed into Puck's ear, and the vampire winced. "Hold your tongue, or would you rather me cut it out for you?"
The vampire with the childish Mohawk shook his head, and fell to his knees under the force of Blaine's strength. Blaine outranked him by at least two centuries. He couldn't even compare their strengths, but his ideas were newer, and he was bold enough to place them in the open.
"Does anyone else have any objections to my mate?" Blaine asked, his voice dripping with sweetness, but containing a thinly veiled threat. The vampires in his presence knew better than to say anything, whether they had objections or not.
"Good. Go, and I will figure out what to do with you all."
And with that, Blaine began to ascend the staircase to his own wing, leaving his frustration and coven behind to work out their own issues.
Slipping quietly into the room, Blaine made his way back into the bed. He sat down and leaned his head back against the pillow, but he did not return to sleep. How could he? There were too many thoughts occupying his head for the fitful sleep that Blaine enjoyed. He glanced at the figure next to him. Puck was right. He would never admit it aloud to the coven, but Puck was right. They both knew it. They all knew it. He could not be a good leader, if he and his mate were wrong for each other.
Blaine snorted. His mate. His coven thought they were mates, but no. They could never be mates. They were far too different, in more ways than one. Blaine closed his eyes, willing their color to turn back to the normal hazel shade they typically took.
Opening his eyes, he stared straight ahead. He honestly did not know what to do. To the outside world, their coven was a revolutionary ideal, the greatest successful experiment to date, far greater than the political experiment of democracy. Having so many vampires in one living space successfully, it was a huge deal.
But inside the façade, they were falling apart, fraying from the inside out. Blaine didn't know how to stop it, before the coven completely unraveled. He cared for the vampires living with him, he considered them his brothers and sisters. But he was their leader, and it was him they looked upon to fix their shattering bond. But Blaine had no idea how to do so.
Next to him, his mate shifted in bed, and Blaine sighed. What were they going to do? This was their coven that was falling apart, and they needed to fix it. They needed to strengthen their bond, but how? They were supposed to be the leaders. The mated leaders.
"What happened?" The voice rose up from the bed, and Blaine looked down at his supposed 'other half'.
"Nothing." He said, pressing a kiss to his mate's forehead.
"Just go back to sleep Santana."
A/N: Oh how I love cliffhangers.