Aphelion: Hunters

By: Shadow Chaser

An Assassin's Creed-Dracula (2013) Crossover

Disclaimer:

I do not know any of Assassin's Creed nor of NBC's Dracula. This is written for fan purposes only and not for profit.

Important Note:

Please read my other Assassin's Creed story, Apotheosis if you have not already. This takes place within that universe and deals with situations and characters of that universe. This is part of my Aphelion series – but a slight AU from it since it has crossover with Dracula, most of them set in Victorian London. This ignores the fact that in Dracula, Jack the Ripper is a vampire and takes from my Apotheosis story that Jack the Ripper was an Assassin gone mad and turned to the Templar side.

Story:

Year: 1896

Blood always attracts predators, especially blood spilt rather messily on the rooftops of London. Like a predator on a hunt, Altaїr ibn la-Ahad stole quietly on the rooftops, leaping and rolling whenever it suited him as he made his way towards the source of the blood. The Apple, nestled in its rightful place by his side in a pouch concealed upon his being had showed him the flash and spray of a rather well known Germanic hunter that had only recently arrived.

Altaїr had been curious to his arrival and had delegated the task of watching the man's whereabouts for the past few days. It was only dowsing the Apple did he find that the man was fated to die tonight. Die by a mysterious hand that looked oddly familiar…however, he had never put much stock in coincidences. Everything happened for a reason…

He slowed his approach south of the light breeze that had kicked up while he had been running across the rooftops, his all-black outfit concealing him against the shadowed moonlight spilling across the night sky. Here the scent of blood was far stronger and with his sharp eyes, he could see rivets of it pouring out of what was surely a fatal wound. The main artery had to have been instantly cut for so much blood to spill down the tiles.

And then he spotted him and the corner of his lips curled up in a predatory smile. So…he had returned after such a long absence…

It was usually unwise to provoke another predator by making oneself known, but Altaїr knew that by not letting him know that he was there, there was more the chance of being attacked; and he had no compunctions of listening to the Apple scream for the next three days. Even now, the Apple was wary, but he quieted it with a gentle brush of his mind, reminding it that the predator was an old…acquaintance. Ally was too lofty of a word to label him and they were certainly not friends.

So he stepped directly into the wind and waited on the rooftop across the street of where the kill had been made. He did not have to wait long as he saw his long gangly form rise up from his most recent kill and the blood-red eyes stare directly at him. The…creature, as it was certainly not a man, hissed, long, loud, and angry before Altaїr watched as he suddenly all but disappeared from his vision-

Altaїr did not need the Apple's warning to tell him where the silvery Japanese-made blade was going to strike as he activated one of his hidden blades with a snick and blocked the blow. Metal on metal clanged and he twisted his body around, a grim smile on his face as he brought his other blade around to strike at the creature. The creature snarled, rage filled, drunk with blood-lust and whirled around, striking to block, but Altaїr was too versed as he twisted again, this time leaping down a little to avoid the sudden swipe of nails that turned into twisted claws.

He heard the creature snarl once more before he brought out his trump card and an unholy bright light shone from the Apple, making the creature scream and hiss as he brought his hands up to ward away the light. However, just as quickly, he put the Apple back into his pouch and forcibly disengaged his mind from the Apple's murmurs to destroy the abomination before him and stepped back in a defensive posture as the creature slowly lowered his arms, wary for another attack.

"You have returned," he said quietly as the creature froze for a moment, clearly recognizing his voice.

"You attacked me," just like that, the creature was gone and in front of Altaїr stood an impeccably dressed man sans the blood dripping down his front and mouth.

"You were drunk with blood lust," Altaїr shrugged as if it was nothing, "nothing more than an animal-"

"Do not dare to presume such-"

"Your thirst for vengeance is not what this city needs, Vlad," he sheathed his blades and lowered his arms, but still kept himself tense in case the man in front of him turned into a creature once more.

"Grayson. It is Alexander Grayson now," gone was the accent and in place an American one unlike the one he had heard from a young boisterous apprentice four years previous. "I do not apologize for turning your precious London into my hunting ground-"

"The Order of the Dragon is not as idiotic as you are, Grayson," he countered quietly, "not with support from the Templars."

"You came all this way to lecture me?" Grayson looked about ready to extend his fangs and claws again, his blood-covered sword still held in his hands, its silvery blade flashing against the dim moonlight. "You could have saved yourself the trouble and done so at my ball if you had accepted the invitation. Oh, I'm sorry, you'd probably think I would seduce and drink the blood of your precious apprentice now, do you not?"

Altaїr frowned, a brief flash of anger filling him followed by sorrow as he looked away, "That chapter of my life has closed."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the man look briefly surprised before asking quietly, almost sincerely if he led himself to think the man's next words were spoken in such fashion, "Did she fall in the battle against your enemies?"

"Only just," Altaїr hedged, the guilt of what happened to Arden four years previous still weighing heavily on him, "she was cursed after a fashion."

"I am truly sorry," this time he definitely knew that the man's words were sincere and Altaїr smiled bitterly. They both knew that cursed lives were perhaps a blessing in disguise, but more often than not, it was something both had to live with.

"There will be others sent," Altaїr started again after a moment of silence between them, "and discretion is the best recourse of action-"

"They destroyed my life, they killed my wife, they imprisoned me-"

"And even though your vaunted Order of Dragons is a splinter group of the Templars, the Templars will come after you if you wantonly kill in such fashion," he countered, staring at the dark red eyes. He still remembered the brief time that this man in front of him had almost, almost succeeded in seducing him, but had managed to escape the glamour and allure he had exuded only by the skin of his teeth. Knowing what he knew now about the creature who wore the skin of a man in front of him, he was better equipped to deal with him.

"They are but a pittance-"

"They are an enemy you cannot deal with alone-"

"So then join me," the man countered his eyes going from dark red to blood-red and Altaїr laughed lightly, making him step back in surprise, dropping his allure and glamour.

"Do not mistake this for a friendship, Grayson," he shook his head, "this is a warning. Tread lightly or you will find yourself back in your coffin, staked, and drained of your life's blood."

"By you?" the man's hackles rose, but Altaїr refused to meet the threat with his blades. He knew that it was only for intimidation.

"If that is the only way, yes," he said bluntly.

"I should kill you right now-"

"I have crossed blades with you before and would welcome your attempt to do so once more, but know this – not only would you have the Brotherhood as your enemy, you will do so with the knowledge that we would be better off as-"

"As what, as allies?!"

"-as a force you do not provoke," Altaїr finished, "we are not enemies, but if you force our hand-"

"I do not take kindly to threats, Altaїr ibn la-Ahad, even for all seven-hundred fifty years of your life."

"Then learn to take kindly to them, Vlad Tepes," he said quietly, "for you would do well to have less enemies."

For a long moment, the two stared at each other in mutual simmering almost-hatred, golden eyes against red ones, before Grayson made a noise in the back of his throat and swept his cloak up in a dramatic fashion, growling curses under his breath.

"Fine then, go play in your shadows," he growled out, "I have business with the Order of the Dragons."

"Then let me not keep you from your business," Altaїr said with a thin-lipped smile before watching the man turn back into a creature and slip into the darkness. He waited a few more minutes until he was sure that the creature known as Dracula had left the premises and went to examine the body of the recently deceased German Templar.

He had hoped that Vlad would not have set foot on English soil after eight years of not seeing him, but he supposed it would not last. After all, he had begun to receive recent reports of the Templar splinter group setting up here as their new power base since the Templars had begun to shore of their control of America after their Civil War. Europe was once again to be the theatre of battle between the Assassins and the Templars and the Order of the Dragons was only the vanguard.

A few days later, Renfield handed Grayson a medium sized unmarked envelope with several photographs of various houses within London and a few detailed maps of their entry points. The only signature was a feather found at the very bottom of the envelope.

"Let's go hunting Renfield," Grayson called out as he smiled at the information Altaїr had given him.

~END~

Author's Notes:

If there is ever a sequel written to this alternate one-shot, it will be posted separately from this story. This is a one-and-done. This was inspired by the first episode of NBC's Dracula with long-lived people and ancient conspiracies, also a soundtrack that sounds eerily like Assassin's Creed. Kudos to my beta reader Legume Shadow for demanding that I write something like this just for kicks.