Summary: Fleeing from danger in Domino, Yugi encounters Yami, a handsome man with a dark secret and a darker past than even he knows. Together, they must solve the puzzle of Yami's past (and the golden puzzle in Yugi's keeping), fend off stalkers and hostile vampires, and, oh yeah, save the world from ravening Shadows. If they're lucky, they'll also find time to fall in love...
Pairing: Yami/Yugi (Puzzleshipping); minor mentions of past Yami/other (canon) male character; mentions of one-sided Yugi/OMC
Notes, Warnings, and Potential Triggers: Depictions of stalking, vampirism (including blood-drinking, death of prey animals), violence, and some crude language; contains non-explicit, sensual scenes between two consenting adult males. Plus, my usual sarcastic humor.
This story presents what I believe to be a unique take on vampirism that utilizes aspects of the YGO universe in a new way. If, for whatever reason, you'd like to use this type of vampire in a story of your own, please credit me with their creation.
Christmas Cravings (a novella by Maureen Child, published by Silhouette Nocturne in the anthology Holiday with a Vampire) loosely inspired this story. Specifics of the story, including the details of how vampirism works, the finer points of the plot, and the snarky humor all belong to me.
Acknowledgements: Thanks to Tex-chan for all the pre- and beta-reading, and supportive comments. Thanks also to everyone who took the time to comment on the early, rough draft chapters (1-4) on LJ.
Disclaimer: Yu-Gi-Oh! is the creation and property of Kazuki Takahashi. I have borrowed his characters, placed them in an alternate universe, and altered their backstories in keeping with this new setting. (And turned Yami into a vampire. ;D) As always, I have attempted to keep their core personalities intact and include "nods to canon" in my story.
Feedback fuels this author's writing engine.
...At Stake
(A Yu-Gi-Oh! Paranormal Romance by Lucidscreamer)
Chapter 1
As consciousness crept back over him, the first thing Yami became aware of was that he was face down in something cold and wet. It took his recovering brain a second or two to put a name to the cold-and-wet thing: snow. The second thing he noticed was the metaphorical kettle drum beating at the base of his skull, attempting to pound it apart. Automatically, he lifted one hand and felt for an injury. His questing fingers found a swelling knot, tender to the touch, and a chill dampness matting his hair to his skull. A quick sniff told him that the stuff in his hair was blood.
His blood. He had been bleeding.
What the hell had happened to him?
A groan of effort escaped his clenched teeth as he heaved himself over onto his back. His muscles felt rubbery and weak, reluctant to obey his demands. Strained and slow as it was, the movement set off a fresh round of the 1812 Overture in his head. Eyes clenched shut, he lay in the snow, panting as he fought a wave of nausea that took him completely by surprise. He hadn't felt like this in... Frankly, he couldn't remember ever feeling like this, at least not since the night he Changed.
That thought, unpleasant as it was, brought up another concern. He had been attacked, knocked unconscious, two occurrences rare enough to set off every mental alarm he possessed. Danger lurked nearby and he had been oblivious to the threat, too lost in his own memories to remain vigilant. Thanks to his carelessness, he was injured, vulnerable, and out in the open. His gaze swept over his surroundings in an automatic threat assessment. Nothing moved but a few tree branches stirred by the wind. The wind itself brought him only the scent of snow and his own drying blood. The fresh powder covering the ground seemed undisturbed, only his own footprints having broken the crust on the knee-deep drifts.
A new thought occurred to him, and he forced his eyes open to squint at the sky. It was gray and gravid with clouds, but a tell-tale strand of pearly light along the horizon signaled the approach of dawn.
His ass was toast if he didn't get it off the ground and under shelter before the sun rose.
With renewed determination, Yami struggled to get his feet under him. He made it to one knee before the pain in his head dropped him face-first into the snow again. He cursed under his breath. Why hadn't he taken the time to feed before coming to the house, rather than thinking he would hunt once he arrived? It had been foolish to push his limits so far, to take such an unnecessary risk. He had been lazy and look where had it gotten him: about to be flambéed by the sunrise. The fact that he was going to die with an empty stomach just added insult to injury.
"Hey! Are you all right?"
At the sound of the unfamiliar voice, Yami's head snapped around. His nostrils flared, but the speaker was downwind and too far away for Yami to catch a scent. His gaze locked instantly onto the short figure floundering toward him across the snowy lawn. For a second, there appeared to be two of him, but Yami blinked and his eyes refocused on a single young man with bed-head and clothes that looked as if he'd flung them on in the dark. His heavy parka gaped open as he jogged closer, revealing the flannel pajama jacket underneath. When he bent over Yami, the scent of soap and blood and warm human male made Yami's mouth water. Truly, he was a fool to have let himself go so long between meals. A hungry vampire was a dangerous vampire - to himself, if nothing else, as his hunger had clearly affected his ability to keep himself from becoming a crispy, sun-baked vamp-kebab.
"Are you hurt? What are you doing out here?"
Not to mention that his thoughts were running in circles, and he had no idea what to say to the human who was peering down at him with concern etched on his face. Yami wondered at what point he had lost his mind, because it had clearly happened and he'd failed to make note of it. Maybe he should just lie here and let the sun finish what his unknown assailant had started. It might be doing himself a favor. Were vampires his age prone to senility?
"All right. It's pretty obvious you're not okay." The human seemed to take Yami's lack of a response to mean that he couldn't respond. "Let's get you up from there and out of the cold, and then I'll call for an ambulance."
Frowning, Yami blinked up at him. "I don't need an ambulance."
The human gaped at him. "What do you mean you don't need an ambulance? You're lying in a heap of bloody snow, and I mean that literally. Of course, you need an ambulance."
"No." Yami made another try at getting up. It was no more successful than his previous attempt. He flopped back onto the snow and lay there like an overturned turtle. The loss of his dignity was almost worse than the continuing pain in his head. "I don't."
"Yes. You do." The human enunciated each word with the kind of clear emphasis usually reserved for speaking to the cognition-impaired. "You can't even stand up!"
For some reason, that made Yami determined to prove the human wrong. He made it as far as his knees, where he had to pause while the world took a merry spin around his head. When it stopped, and he could catch his breath, he cast a glance at the horizon. Cresting the tree-tops, the sun spread its destructive rays across the winter sky. In another minute or so, the pale light would be bright enough to set him aflame. Already, he could feel his skin heating up as his blood reacted. Soon, it would literally boil in his veins.
Decades had passed since the last time Yami had panicked, but this was clearly a day of firsts. He shot an urgent look at his would-be rescuer. "I need to get inside."
"Yes," the man agreed. "Inside an ambulance, which I will call for you once we get to the house."
Yami bit back the automatic retort that sprang to his lips. He could argue with the human later, provided the sun hadn't reduced him to a large pile of smoking ash, which was looking more likely by the second. The tops of the evergreens blazed with light. "Just get me inside. Now. "
"All right." The man grabbed Yami's arms and hauled him to his feet. "C'mon, let's see if you can walk."
They quickly discovered that Yami couldn't, at least not without help. His legs refused to support him and his spinning head meant he listed drunkenly to one side. The human was at least a head shorter than Yami, but surprisingly strong for his size. He wrapped his arm around Yami's waist and took Yami's weight on his shoulder. With the human supporting him and doing most of the steering, they shuffled toward the distant farmhouse. The thick snow dragged at Yami's feet, slowing their progress. All the while, the deadly sun rose higher in the sky.
Feeling his skin grow hot, Yami forced his eyes open. They stung, watering from the brightness. Because the universe clearly hated him, the sun had found a break in the cloud cover and the light bounced up at him from the snow. He knew he couldn't make it to the house in time, but he spotted a closer alternative. "Take me to the barn."
"What?" The human turned a disbelieving look on him. "Why-?"
"Just do it!"
"Okay, okay. Sheesh. No need to get-" The human broke off and sniffed the air. "Do you smell something burning?"
Shit. Yami looked down at himself. Wisps of smoke rose from the exposed skin on his hands, and he could feel his face and neck blistering. He could almost hear the dark interior of the barn calling to him. "The barn. Now!"
With the human half-carrying him, they staggered through the open doors of the barn just as the sky flooded with light. Even made gray and muted by the clouds, the sunlight reflected off the snow, deadly rays seeking out the vampire with unerring aim. Yami flinched away from the questing death-beams, stumbling into the welcoming shadows. They soothed his wounds, but did little to ease the weakness pervading his limbs. To fully heal and regain his strength, he needed blood.
His gaze wandered to the sweet-smelling meal standing in the doorway, back-lit by the dawn. Only the threat of the sunlight kept Yami from lunging forward and sinking his fangs into the human's throat.
He groaned and threw his head back, deliberately banging it into the wall behind him. The renewed pain made him hiss, but it also knocked some sense into his hunger-addled brain. Friend, not food! (Well, okay, more like "stranger, not food," but it was the "not food" part that was the important thing to remember.) His Good Samaritan didn't deserve to die for his charity.
"Okay, I just pinched myself. And it hurt like hell, which proves I'm not dreaming, so I'd really like to know what's going on." The human paced in the doorway. "I mean, I woke up because I thought I heard something outside and when I went to investigate, I found you lying there, bleeding all over the place and... Who are you, anyway? What were you doing on my front lawn?"
That made Yami squint open one eye and glare at him. "Your lawn? Funny, you don't look like Arthur Hawkins. Last time I checked, this was his bed-and-breakfast."
Blood suffused the human's round cheeks, making him look even more delectable and making Yami's mouth flood with saliva. Damn it, this was ridiculous. He was too old to be reacting to a simple blush like this. So help him, if he lived through this, he was never going so long without a snack.
"Uh, it still does. Belong to Professor Hawkins, I mean. The B&B." The man raked his fingers through his sleep-tousled bangs and looked sheepish. "I'm sort of inn-sitting for him while he's in Egypt with my grandpa."
"Oh."
"Yeah. He was just going to close down the B&B for the month, but he said he was expecting a regular, and he didn't want to disappoint his favorite customer. So, since I was already staying here, I offered to run the place while he's gone." The human's lips turned upward in a faint smile. "I'm Yugi, by the way. Yugi Mutou."
It took Yami's blood-starved brain a few seconds to process all this information. Finally, the mental file box marked "manners" threw out a helpful reminder. "Pleased to meet you. I'm Yami Hunter. I'm the guest Arthur was expecting."