Author's Note: set during s2, beware of spoilers! Let me know if you wanna read on haven't penned one of these before. Chapters will have Seth and Ritchie POVs depending on plot as it goes on.
Chapter One: Edge of a Cliff
SETH
Kate is gone because of those monsters.
It's all I can think about. And every time I do, the hollow space she left in my chest is fills up with a bit more fury. I grasp the satchel and stuff it full with weapons I've gathered from Ritchie's collection. A couple of freaky daggers, a shotgun and my lucky pistol.
Ritchie's in the backroom enjoying cheap girls and expensive alcohol. He doesn't even care. He shouldn't. It's my problem, and I have to do something about it.
For a second I think of Santanico. She bailed. I needed her help and she fucking bailed. I grab the leather bag and swing it over my shoulder. Time for some revenge.
I walk over to one of the chulebra's motorbikes. He hisses at me but I stare him down. He knows I'm Ritchie's brother. They won't touch me. I get onto the bike. Clutching the handles, I bring it to life. It growls through the darkness as I drive away from this godforsaken place. The chulebras shout after me and pretty soon their angered cries are echoes in the distance.
I speed up, weaving in and out recklessly past old trucks and four by fours that purr along the roads tonight. The moon is yellow tonight, it makes the grey roads glimmer. The more I glide along the tarmac the more it feels like I'm riding on the back of a god-like serpent.
The bike roars as I tighten my grip on the handlebars. It eats up the road before me. The wind howls in my face, my hands clutch the bars so tight my knuckles have turned white, but I feel nothing.
Just empty.
Kate trusted me and look where I got her. I told her to stick by me, and look where the Geckos freakin' got her. I ruined her life. Everything I touch turns to dust.
I jerk the bike to the right and drive through the darkness, my headlight casts the auburn ground in an eerie glow as I race across it. I thrust my hand at the lever and switch off the headlights. Pitch black roaring night screams in my face, and still I don't feel a thing. There's a cliff edge somewhere up ahead and I don't slow down.
I double down on the bike streamlining myself with the bike, I've never gone this long driving blind. Any second now, and I'll be weightless, and I'll be finished. The cruel joke of mortality.
All men die.
But monsters live forever, where's the good in that? Hell, where's the God in that?
The moonlight illuminates a dusky beauty, her pale skin and dark eyes jar me to a halt. I know those eyes anywhere. Santanico.
Crying out, I swerve the bike with all the strength I have to avoid hitting her. I crash across the dessert, the bike squeals and grates, pinning my leg under it as it drags me toward the cliff edge. I scramble with it, grabbing and shoving, doing everything I can to get it off've me. It vanishes over the edge with the satchel and I stop a foot from the edge. The bike is swallowed hole by the darkness, I hear a distant crash from about a hundred feet below. I lie flat on my back and stare at the night sky, dazed. The yellow moon glows. I catch my breath. My back is all scratched up and sore. My legs dangle off the edge of the cliff and I realise how close I was to resting in peace. Be careful what you wish for.
I sit up and pat my holster. Thank fuck, my gun's still there. I turn back and squint through the shapeshifting night, but I don't see her. My blood starts to boil. I don't see her, because she's not there. I clench my jaw. She's not there, because she's toying with me. Panting, I look down into the gaping abyss, it hungers to swallow me whole too, just like the bike. I could step off and disappear. Everything would stop. All the pain, and Kate and the chulebras and all this shit would just stop.
But I pull myself away from the edge, frustrated. Furious.
"Shit!"
What the hell was that? She played with my head. I stalk through the darkness and head back toward the dirt road. The bag rhythmically bumps against my spine and my leg aches. I need a drink for fuck's sake.
I see a truck approaching, its giant headlights cast me in its glow.
"Hey!" I shout out, waving my hands at it to slow down. It speeds up. I leap back, missing it by inches.
"Great." I turn back and peer through the darkness in the direction of my lost bike.
"This is just great." I grumble, shaking my head at myself. At least I've got my gun.
Glancing down at the long road ahead, I start walking. Now and then, a truck drives by, but they don't stop. People never stop out here.
An hour later, I reach a bar all lit up with red neon letters above the door that spell, 'Hell & Highwater', only the high-water part has blown a fuse. Very relevant.
I push the doors open and i'm hit with the smell of stale beer and cigarette smoke. Soft country music plays and there's a musclebound guy at a bar, passed out over the counter top. I tilt my head at him. The bartender is an old woman, she has weary eyes and looks straight at me.
"Upstairs, last room on the left." She says. I pause.
"On the left?" I ask. I've never been a guy to turn away my luck.
"You are the good Gecko, right?"
I cock an eyebrow at her.
"To paraphrase very broadly, sure." I say. She slides a key across the counter top. I catch it and head for the wooden stairwell. The hallway is long as heck, I worry it'll never end as I round a corner. That's when I see the door on the left. My fists are clenched so tight that my nails dig into the palms of my hands, I should have taken a few shots before coming up here. I stop outside a weathered brown wooden door, it has splinters protruding from the edges from being slammed too many times. I step closer to the door and listen.
I hear is running water.
I slide the key into the lock and turn it. Time to try my luck.
The room is as clean as a room above a bar can be, one double bed, a minibar, a bathroom and TV. The TV is on, but on low volume. I open the minibar and pull out a bottle of gin.
Unscrewing it, I take a few long swigs and feel the nerves in my shoulders relax. I set the bottle down on the counter top and that's when I notice my hands are shaking. I grow self-conscious. The shower stops running.
Santanico emerges with a white towel wrapped around her just below her shoulders, showing me water kissed skin. It glistens, her hair pours over her shoulders and glints under the dim bedroom light.
She gives me a nod in place of a greeting.
"The good Gecko?" I scowl, annoyed. I force my eyes off of her, she's had a lifetime of men enjoying the view, and I know her well enough to know she doesn't need that from me.
"What the hell was that back there?" I ask as I turn to the TV. Some reporter talks about people going missing. It's small news in the big dessert.
"I was going to ask you the same thing." Her voice says and I don't have to look at her to know she shot me a glare. She moves around behind me, I can hear the shuffling of clothes. A moment later, the gentle thud of the towel striking the bare wooden floorboards makes me sit up. My heart hammers, and I ignore it. I take another swig of gin.
"What the hell are you doing out here, anyway?" She asks.
I turn around and she finishes pulling a tank top over her head, I turn my head but she's spotted me.
"Didn't peg you for the shy type." She taunts. This is our thing, mocking each other. It makes me feel more comfortable around her and I think she knows it.
"You owe me a bike..."
"You know, that's the strangest thanks I've received for saving someone's life."
I clench my jaw, nerves dance through my gut. I'm embarrassed.
"You didn't...I was just..."
"What? Driving off a cliff?"
I fall silent. She eyes me with her hypnotic honey-like gaze. And suddenly, I don't wanna be here. I wanna disappear.
"What happened, Seth?"
"Where did you go?" I flip it back onto her. "When we came to get you, where did you go? I made a fool of myself chasing you down for help."
She narrows her eyes at me.
"I'm out for revenge."
"So am I."
She scoffs and cocks an eyebrow at me. "Revenge by suicide?"
"That wasn't...that…" I trail off. There's no point elaborating. I don't need the judgement. I'm caught off guard by her taking my clenched fist and opening it delicately to reveal the nail marks in my palm. She just looks at me, because she knows I know better. I shouldn't be doing this kind of thing.
"Seth, you might find this hard to believe but I like you alive."
"I find it hard to believe that you like me at all, Santanico." I pause, I can't shake it off. "How did you know?"
She shrugs, doing her best not to seem self-conscious but that's exactly what she is.
"After i've been inside someone's head, I can...sense things. You're not okay." Her misty eyes search mine, and I'm restless. I try not to squirm.
"Who is?" I ask. Her expression is filled with concern and it's too much for me to handle. I can't take pity. Hell, I can't take anything right now. I ignore her and turn back to the TV.
"I didn't know you watched TV."
"I don't. It's just for... ambiance." She shrugs. "It gets quiet."
"What? When you're done hearing the voices in our heads and playing mind games?"
"You're pissed about the bike. I get it."
"And the weapons." I point out.
"And the weapons. You want a ride, you can take any of the ones parked outside."
"The why did you leave the keys downstairs?"
"I thought the guy who wanted to avenge Kate was showing up, not this guy. But joke's on me. Because the first guy wouldn't try to drive off the edge of a cliff because he couldn't bear the guilt."
I look at her. She won't let it go, and I realise it isn't because she's taunting me, it's something else. It's because it bothers her.
"We all have scars, Seth. That's why revenge exists." She concludes, distracted.
"If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were worried about me." I toy with her, but I won't lie, I like it. Makes me feel smug.
"If I didn't know any better, I'd think you wanted me to worry."
I jerk my head up and gape at her, like I've been caught red handed.
"What? No. That's not-What?"
She smirks at me. "I love messing with you."
I keep my eyes on hers. She's sharp. I know what Ritchie liked about her. It's not hard to see what anyone would like about her but there's more to it then that.
"I'm hunting that bastard down and finishing him off before he kills any more of us. You wanna come with me, come. But don't kill yourself or drink yourself into a stupor. You loved her more than that."
"I didn't love anybody." I bite back, fast, too fast. She can see right through me and it kills me inside. I hang my head and run my hands over my face. She presses a hand on my shoulder and stands opposite me.
"I bailed because I needed to get justice for Manola."
"You loved her?"
"I don't know. Sometimes, yes, other times, I think it's just... a debt. She saved my life and let me feed. Some people aren't capable of love."
I look at the woman who can capture every man's desire and read his every thought, and I realise she's just a woman. Even though she's a vampire, and she's a fighter, she's just a person. And life has left her hollow too.
Just like me.
"You coming with me? Or you wanna stay here and sulk?" She asks me as she strides toward the door. I look at her, surprised.
"What, now? I just got here."
"Okay, princess. I'll catch you another time."
I leap into action, keeping close behind her. I'd rather be in this with her than try to figure all of this out myself.
"You have a lead?"
"I've got something better than that. I've got a location." She says with a glint in her eye.
RITCHIE
I can't move. I can't move!
The thatched roof begins to rumble and suddenly I'm moving. My feet are bare and the dirt ground is dried up, clouds of dust cling to the air. As I emerge from the hut, I see them. The creatures hunting chulebras, massacring the village. They cry out, and it's not for me. Something has changed.
The villagers scream for help and I don't know what to do.
"Seth?!" I cry out, my brother is nowhere to be seen. It's just me. Here, in the middle of carnage. A clawed hand grasps my shoulder and I turn to see a red wave of blood. The rustic scent draws out my fangs, the wall towers over me for a moment before crashing down over me with the weight of a ton. I shove forth my hand, commanding it to stop but it's no use. I can't breathe. My ribs crack and I feel my heart swell until it explodes.
I jolt upright.
The blonde next to me murmurs, half covered by a bed sheet. Her slender figure barely moves as I climb out of the bed. Sweat drips down my body and I stare at my hand. I glance back at the blonde, the two small incisions left by my fangs have healed over.
First dreams about Seth and Santanico, now these. What the hell is happening?
Something bad is coming and I need to understand what.