The young man spluttered as he was driven into the wall, slamming against it with a dull thud. He struggled immediately to his feet with the smallest of winces.
"It's no use. She's gone by now. If Ava doesn't want to be found, no amount of searching will make a difference." He spoke the last few words factually, accepting but defiant despite the bloodstains and rips scoring his clothing from the previous hours' activities. Any more words were cut off as the stronger man's blow took him by surprise, knocking him into a paper-laden desk. He began to climb back up, but stopped as he fell once more, his breath hitching and quickly intensifying into a rattling cough as he gave up the one-sided fight. The larger man watched the scene in displeasure as the younger withdrew his hand from his face, exhausted by the coughing as much as the fight. The hand came away sprayed with droplets of blood. Mihail didn't seem to notice as he brought his gaze upwards. a slow, finalistic smile spread across his visage as he controlled his shuddering breath. " It's over, Byron. You've lost."
the stronger man chuckled through a clenched jaw. He pulled a heavy object out of its holster and toyed with it as he spoke, Bronze eyes transfixed, metal on metal. " Funny how seldom that happens, isn't it? Either way, I don't intend on it."
to Byron's irritation, the smile came back, slightly sad, but not lacking triumph. Mihail attempted a chuckle of his own, only for the young man to slump back against the desk as the choking wet cough fully overtook him. Byron observed this patiently, feeling himself involuntarily lick his lips as the coughing brought another spray of blood across the man's arm. Then the pale, blue-green gaze held his once more.
"You really don't know Ava, now, do you?"
Byron's temper flared one more time as the younger spat the words out, grinning again with blood-smeared teeth. In a flash, the heavy weapon was brought forth. A shot rang out. Mihail's form slumped from the desk to the floor and laid still as the deep red liquid blossomed around him. the stronger man watched with something near to relief as he slowly calmed. He shifted his weapon back into his holster. "Perhaps. But I won't need to soon, now will I?" The words echoed around the room as Byron turned casually away, ignoring the tugging sensation as his thirst seared deep in his throat. Flooding now could cost too much. Leaving, he beckoned to a young, blank-faced man standing guard near the cages. A new recruit, judging by the fresh Compound imprint in his left clavicle and the carefully concealed unease at his task. Just wait until feeding time, thought Byron in a rare idle moment. The new guard hurried over with surprise, fear, and relief clouding the mask of calm.
"Yes, stăpân?"
"Your name."
More surprise, followed by a heavy-handed business-like air.
"Viorel, stăpân."
The man, barely more than a youth seemed uneasy as Byron smiled casually at him. This un-Vanatri formality was welcome, if not entirely new since Byron's rule. "Viorel, I want you to prepare a group for a little, should we say, hunting. Make sure they're experienced and fully arm them. I'll give them the exact assignment myself.
"Yes. I mean, Yes, stăpân."
As the youth turned to leave, Byron added, almost as an afterthought, "Also, there's a bit of a mess in my den, see that it's properly straightened, but don't touch anything important-looking. I would hate to see you having to be guarded as one of those-" he jerked his head toward the fence, where a seething, moaning mass of bodies clawed at the gates, eyes milky.
Another easy smile stopped the youth mid-reply, and something dark within the same made the young man scuttle off without any more formality. Byron watched him go, wondering how the youth would react to his little "mess" after so much unease even near the cages. The full-blood sighed, making his way to a dim, enclosed hall, settling down on a cushion. Byron liked it here, with Ava gone, here her scent was strongest. It helped him think. He inhaled deeply, massaging his temples when something small and pale caught his eye under a low bench. He stooped to pick it up. A thin short swatch of plastic. Suddenly Byron straightened, eyes locked on the object in his intense, seething way. It was a common Muritor pregnancy test, small and discreet, but not enough so to hide from him. One aspect of the item caught his interest more than any other. The test was blue.
In a room that still smelled of Ava, in a Compound full of men, there was only one explanation.
Viorel had only just begun sorting through the task sheets, each one showing which Vanatri hunters were available and which were assigned some other job when the enormous hall doors burst open to reveal Byron's livid outline, clutching something small.
"You! Make sure that the group being sent out is the best. Pull the most experienced dominants out of any job you need to in order to get them here. Give them this. He snapped the object in half, handing one to the young man as he tucked the other into an empty disc pouch. The youth accepted his dumbly, frowning at the broken stick until Realization dawned.
"Is this a-
"It doesn't matter! The group will need it for the scent."
With that, the stăpân, or overlord stalked away. letting a tiny, full-lipped smirk show through as his rage and shock subsided while the young man was left to his new task. Now that he knew the full extent of Ava's actions, Byron did not intend to lose.