Warnings: violence, lots of m/m sex, brief noncon, language, major character death, witchcraft, vampires, creative liberties taken with the theory of magic

Theme songs: "Notes in Constellations" by Chiodos and "Foundation" by Years & Years

AN: Dedicated to the wonderful Axelkin for giving great input every step of the way, keeping me motivated, and helping to make this story so much better!


A Boy Walks Home Alone at Night


A full moon beamed opulently at its zenith in the obsidian sky, despite being teasingly skirted by cloud cover. The scent of imminent rain was carried by a cool breeze that did wonders to disperse the lingering heat of a long summer day. Thunder rumbled in the distance and a nearby street lamp flickered, then failed. Its absent amber glow swathed the deserted street in a dingy darkness that made the sign at its corner completely illegible.

Uryuu sighed. Even if he could read the road names, he was hopelessly lost. The specialty shop a classmate had told him about would have been difficult to find under normal circumstances, much less in the middle of the night with no solid reference points. Admittedly, he wasn't as familiar with these neighborhoods as most local twenty-somethings his age, but it wouldn't have been an issue if his cell phone's battery hadn't died during his last lecture of the day.

Pausing to lean wearily against a brick wall, he rummaged through the messenger bag at his right hip and sipped from the half-empty bottle of water he retrieved. He pushed up his glasses to rub tiredly at his eyes. Uryuu was very irritated with himself. He should have known better than to trek around Downtown after dusk but he'd just had to find the shop tonight. It was probably closed by now anyway, and although he wasn't above asking a stranger for directions, he hadn't actually seen anyone around for the past half hour or so. The only 'businesses' still open were the ones he had no inclination to enter under all but the direst of circumstances. Therefore, he had no choice but to retrace his steps and try to stumble back onto familiar ground.

A reasonable plan in theory, perhaps, but an extremely frustrating one in practice.

After a while of fruitless roaming, Uryuu was seconds away from grumbling aloud to himself like a madman when he heard a distinct rustle somewhere in the alley to his left. He halted warily on the sidewalk. Nothing out of the ordinary could be discerned from the gloom. It looked just like any other narrow gap between buildings: a few grimy trash cans stood counterpoint to weeds and weathered debris amid cracked concrete. Shrugging off the mild fright, he continued down the street and turned a corner at random.

Arms wound around his body and tightened, one hand clamping over his mouth and the other locking his own arms at his sides. An unfamiliar heat pressed against his back. Uryuu resisted instinctively and his attacker snickered near an ear.

"Normally, I'd draw this out a little longer," casually intoned a masculine voice edged with wicked mirth. "Cat-and-mouse is my favorite game, you see, but I'm too ravenous to play tonight. And you smell so much better than the chaff I'm used to."

Blue eyes flared in dawning horror as he struggled to process what was happening. Uryuu thrashed against the hold but his captor merely laughed at his efforts. He was abruptly thrown to the pavement hard enough to knock the air from his lungs. There was a brief interval between regaining his breath and the aggressor descending upon him once more. Not enough to plot escape, and certainly not enough to garner the energy for a fight. It wasn't even enough time to get a good look at the guy. Instead, he used it to voice a vital question.

"Why are y—"

That was all he managed before cloth was secured as a gag, then wrists and ankles were bound with startlingly swift movements. This defenseless bundle of Uryuu was hefted over a shoulder and ported off without preamble. Though he kept wriggling as much as he could, their pace wasn't slowed in the slightest. His racing mind was inundated with panic and countless questions. Who was this person? Why had he abducted a random university student? What did he mean by that comment about Uryuu's smell!?

Where was their destination and what would happen once they reached it?

Midway down the second block, the perpetrator scoffed at his ineffectual straining and said, "Listen, I'm not happy about this, either. Quick and dirty, that's how I like it! But I promised my brother I'd share tonight's take, so you might as well relax. Our place isn't far."

Uryuu froze in dismay. Was he suggesting…? No, it couldn't be! Those kinds of people only existed in fiction, right? Not to say there weren't appalling crimes committed by terrible people each day, but one of their victims wasn't supposed to be him. As though sensing his apprehensions, the man chuckled darkly and stepped a little faster.

A light rain began to sprinkle down on them but it didn't matter. He hadn't been lying when he'd claimed to live close by. It only took a handful of minutes before they were entering a shabby apartment building, climbing up a set of stairs, and pushing into one of the units. The world tilted and blurred as Uryuu was roughly deposited onto a cheap dining chair beside a humming mini-fridge in the corner. As soon as the disorientation subsided, a quick assessment of the space revealed it to be a small living area with sparse furnishings and far fewer lights than he would prefer. A table lamp beside a green-upholstered sofa was the sole source. Still, it didn't exactly resemble the set of a gory horror flick in the making.

Glancing at his captor next, Uryuu was even more unsettled to note his striking appearance. Short and unruly, his hair was bone-pale to match his complexion. The jeans and jacket he wore were dyed in shades of light grey, with a bleached shirt underneath. No jewelry glinted on his frame, but black polish adorned blunt fingernails. The only hint of color anywhere on him was in his irises. The lurid yellow gazing down at Uryuu was emphasized by an inky disc eclipsing typical white. He had seen all manner of novelty contact lenses, but he'd never met anyone who wore them outside of conventions or special events.

A flicker of motion caught his attention, and Uryuu jumped to detect a third person in the flat as a peal of thunder echoed outside.

Emerging from what appeared to be a bedroom, the mentioned 'brother' balked at the scene he had strode into. They were identical twins, but no one would've had trouble telling them apart. The newcomer's fringe was a lively orange and his skin boasted quite a bit more warmth than his pallid counterpart. He was wearing layers of black from top to bottom, as well as a single gold necklace with the pendant tucked out of sight. His eyes were a rich brown, free of creepy contacts. They locked with Uryuu's for a tense moment before swiveling to find his brother's.

"What the hell did you do?" he snapped, brow scrunching in anger. "I thought we agreed to stop doing this!"

"Aw, c'mon King, we both know that was never gonna happen. Besides, he was practically begging for it, wandering so close to our lair like that! How could I resist?"

Indignation spurred a muffled protest that earned their focus. With an amused curve to his lips, the freak who had snatched Uryuu off the street obligingly tugged the gag out of the way so he could say his piece.

"I was minding my own business, not wandering around hoping to be assaulted! How was I supposed to guess a raving lunatic was prowling the alleyways?"

The brother dressed in black snorted while the one donned in white sneered, "Well, now that you're here you might as well stay for dinner."

"Is that a vague attempt at euphemism? Are the two of you such cowards that you can't admit why you really brought me here?"

His heart was pattering anxiously against his ribs but his voice held steady as steel. Uryuu wasn't about to let either of them know how scared he was and lose what little leverage he had left. Given how his brain unhelpfully supplied a dozen different scenarios, all equally nightmarish, maintaining the bluff was no menial feat.

Dark frowned and folded his arms across his chest. Light smiled and leaned closer to his seated prize.

Then Uryuu saw something that shattered his brave veneer in an instant. Fangs. There were two sharp, marginally elongated canines gleaming in that ghastly grin. Suddenly it all made such sinister sense: they were vampires! It wasn't entirely implausible, but no one he'd ever met had known anyone who'd heard of a true vampire still walking the earth. Long ago, there had been a worldwide war waged against the vicious species and most of them were culled. Many people assumed they'd become extinct, but Uryuu had always suspected there must have been a few survivors; they just weren't foolish enough to risk exposure when it meant certain death.

Yet, here these two idiots were picking prey from their own backyard! Well, at least one of them had the sense to abstain, even if he couldn't control the other's impulses. Said impulsive vampire stared straight into Uryuu's widened eyes and gleefully spelled out his intended fate.

"I brought you here…for dinner."

Forced bravado emboldened his words as he retorted, "I have no intention of becoming a 'meal'. Why don't you find someone more agreeable? Oh, or better still, why don't you just languish and die?"

The paler twin sniggered at his audacity and seemed to ease ominously closer. More troubling than him, however, was the one who had been content to watch from the sidelines until that moment. Something about Uryuu's flippant proposition piqued his interest and he strode over to take a closer look—a closer sniff, as it turned out, bending to breathe in a sample of personalized scent along the line of his throat. He inadvertently caught a sample of the intrusive vampire's, as well, and wondered a tad hysterically if they used the same brand of shampoo.

His pulse was positively raging just beneath the surface by that point, a condition made all the more unnerving by the fact that Uryuu now knew both of them could clearly hear each and every labored beat. It had to be antagonizing them further, but he couldn't calm his heart to save his life. Literally. Rather than call him out on it, the black-clad brother straightened to address his co-conspirator.

"He has low blood pressure and mild anemia, Shirosaki. With such a weak constitution, there's no way he'll live through one of us feeding from him, much less both. Did you have to pick someone so thin and frail?"

"Don't act like you can't tell he's—"

"Excuse me?" Uryuu feistily interjected, simmering with offense, "'Thin and frail'? Got all that from one whiff, eh? Why don't you untie me and we can see just how 'weak' my constitution really is?"

It belatedly occurred to him, during the lull his outburst generated, that he'd just sort of encouraged them to go ahead and consider him a worthy source of sustenance. He stole a sharp inhale to start stammering something that would negate the damage but Shirosaki, as the other had called him, was already speaking.

"Fine, if it bothers you that much, I won't kill him. But a few sips can't hurt, right?"

"So, we're pretending you have any restraint whatsoever?"

Yellow eyes rolled and he accused, "I know you're just as curious to see if he tastes as good as he smells."

The latter appeal held sway where the rest hadn't. Both vampires gazed hungrily down at Uryuu, who stifled a nervous shudder as best he could. He wasn't about to ask what was so enticing about his particular aroma. Not when he already had a fair notion of what that x-factor might be, and not when the atmosphere was shifting fast. He knew time was running out. His best bet was to persuade the conscientious one to free him before it was too late.

"Have you morons forgotten the part about me not consenting to any of this? What gives you the right to feed from whoever you please? There must be plenty of impressionable individuals who would willingly—"

"Not as many as you'd think," claimed the more colorful of the pair.

"Hardly any," sullenly agreed the monochrome vampire. "Is it the biting part that puts them off?"

"I'd say it's innate revulsion," Uryuu spitefully contributed, "You're like overgrown ticks or talking tapeworms. You're just parasites."

Oh, he really should not have said that. Their expressions soured in tandem and Uryuu knew he had made a fatal error insulting them at such a crucial juncture. They hovered closer, concentrating not on his face, but on his neck. Frantically rallying a final petition, it remained undelivered as he went rigid in shock. Warmth was suddenly painted along the path of a thick artery in his throat. The tips of soft orange locks brushed his jaw as the vampire who had just licked him retreated on a quiet groan.

"Damn…" he thoughtfully swore, licking his lips to savor the flavor while appraising its source too keenly. "You don't taste like any human I've ever had. What are you?"

Uryuu was too uneasy to be properly annoyed at the rude phrasing. Plus, he wasn't wrong. There was no point in attempting a lie or refusing to answer when his resistance would only serve to aggravate them to his detriment. He sighed, shut his eyes, and solemnly spilled his greatest secret.

"I'm a witch." When they blinked dumbly at him, he added, "Genetically. Mostly on my father's side but my mother also had the talent."

In fact, it wouldn't have been a baseless brag to say he was exceptionally talented. His lineage could be traced back hundreds of years, to some of the very first sorcerers of legend. Graced with a natural aptitude on top of that, Uryuu definitely wasn't hurting for power. He just hadn't devoted as much time to the Craft as he had to his studies, which was arguably more relevant in the modern age. Now he found himself wishing he'd memorized the entire chapter on anti-vampire magic in his grandfather's grimoire.

"We've never had a witch before," giddily commented Shirosaki.

They were about as rare as vampires, Uryuu inwardly lamented, and for similar reasons. Though there were plenty of people who appreciated the idea of witchcraft, it was exceedingly rare to meet anyone with a wisp of genuine ability. Even fewer dared reveal the facet of their identity that had once been equally as feared as vampirism. Of course, he'd had no inkling his kind was practically a delicacy to theirs!

The devil-in-human-clothing eagerly dove in and Uryuu flinched to feel the graze of teeth against his flesh—but the other vampire yanked his voracious twin back at the last second. Shivering at the close call, his own uneven panting was disconcertingly loud in the hushed apartment. He marveled at the meter of his taxed heart, having figured it couldn't thump much harder than it already was, but he supposed a near-death experience could do that for you.

"Let go," growled Shirosaki, shoving off the restraining grip with a fierce glare. All semblance of mischief vanished from his demeanor for the first time and he was undeniably more terrifying without it.

Ignoring his brother's irate objection, he asked Uryuu, "Do you know of a way to replace lost blood?"

Surprise flitted across his features. For him to ask something like that meant he really was concerned about the witch's life. Not concerned enough to let him go, but…small mercies. He debated insisting that there was no such method but the chances that it would convince them to turn him loose were astronomical. There was also the consideration that vampires were like living lie detectors.

"There is one tonic designed for that purpose, but I've never tested it before. It might not even work. At any rate, I lack the necessary supplies." Glancing to his mostly empty messenger bag, he admitted, "The reason I came this far Downtown in the first place was to visit an apothecary."

That stupid shop he couldn't find. He should've just cast a locator spell and been done with it, except he was out of the requisite reagents for that, too.

"Make a list. Shirosaki will get what you need."

"Like hell I will!"

Rounding on him, the more reasonable of the duo declared, "Do it, or go hungry tonight because this is the only way I'm letting you near him after what happened last time!"

The air crackled between clashing gazes and Uryuu worried the odd balance of authority between them might tip in the wrong direction. Then Shirosaki relented with a disapproving, "Tch. His blood better fucking be worth it."

He pulled his phone from a pocket to slap into his brother's waiting palm and went to collapse onto the couch with a huff. Brown eyes sought his expectantly and Uryuu dutifully rattled off the inventory needed to ensure his survival. The wily notion to substitute anti-vamp ingredients crossed his mind, but he gathered they weren't ignorant enough not to recognize the disparity of healing versus harmful herbs. The medicinal uses of vervain or yarrow were a far cry from the banishing effects of valerian or sage. Garlic was entirely out of the question.

When the legitimate list was complete, the note-taker held the screen out to confirm its accuracy. Uryuu's vision was hindered due to the glasses which had slid down his nose, and he couldn't adjust them with hands still tied behind his back. Noticing this issue, the other man reached out to gently guide them back into place. The simple action was more baffling than any that had come before it, particularly when the vampire's visage attained a vaguely sheepish cast after the fact. Neither of them elected to remark on the interaction, but concentrated on their original task.

"It's correct," Uryuu calmly confirmed.

"Sure that's everything? This is a lot of stuff."

"I'm sure."

Impressed eyebrows rose as he said, "Great memory, huh? Must be nice."

"Depends on how you use it."

"My guess is you're using it right if you can recall the details of a potion you've never even made."

There was an exasperated groan from across the room and Shirosaki griped, "Quit flirtin' and gimme the damn list!"

He was up, snatching his phone back, and out the door in an instant. An awkward silence followed in his irascible wake. With the selfish vampire gone, Uryuu turned to the responsible one scowling toward the exit.

"Can't you just—"

"Don't ask me to cut you loose," he sternly preempted without looking at him. Evidently uncomfortable about the whole ordeal, the man explained, "You've caught Shirosaki's interest and he has your scent. Even if I let you go he'd find you again. I can't watch him all the time. Obviously."

There was a bitter regret weighing in his words. Uryuu couldn't wrap his head around their strange relationship dynamics. They acted like they loathed each other, but if that was the case why did they live together? If their opinions differed so starkly, they would be better off going their separate ways. Maybe the question he should've been pondering was how their personalities had become so divergent to begin with. He may not have had siblings of his own but he was familiar with their penchant for petty disagreements. This situation went well beyond an inane squabble, however, and he inferred there was a great deal he was missing.

"All I need is a couple of hours. Once I get home, I can put up wards and make deterrence charms."

Shaking his head, he finally glanced at Uryuu and stated, "You don't know him like I do. He's too clever and devious to let a few spells stop him. Feel like watching your back every second for the rest of your life?"

"Be that as it may, I would prefer a potential battle over willingly submitting myself to such a barbaric ritual."

Anger flashed. It was the only warning before he breached personal space and slammed his hands to the rickety armrests at either side of Uryuu, urging him to lean back as far as the chair would allow. He swallowed hard to hear the wood creak in protest of the unreasonable force being exerted on it.

"Don't you get it, witch? There won't even be a battle! Magic or no, you don't stand a chance against him and I can't protect you if I'm not there!"

Lightning pierced thin curtains to highlight the intensity in his eyes. It was dizzying at close proximity, a predicament further exacerbated by the unexpectedly kind sentiment conveyed so harshly. Uryuu didn't know what to make of the man's intentions. Of course he wanted to believe one of the brothers was on his side, but it was far likelier that this was an elaborate ruse meant to keep him off-kilter. At the same time, his instincts were telling him it wasn't. He felt a flush rise to heat his cheeks in response to his profound state of indecision. Sensing blood bloom inches from his nose, the vampire recoiled as if burned. But not before Uryuu saw the hunger he hurriedly retreated to hide.

For all his valiant speeches, this one was really no different from the other. He just wasn't as honest about it.

"The name is Ishida, not 'witch'," he testily announced, "And I would advise you not to underestimate me. You don't know what I'm capable of, either. Just because I was underprepared tonight does not mean I will be such easy prey a second time."

The vampire scoffed but did not respond. He paced around agitatedly, cooling his temper before it boiled beyond his control. Minutes passed and their enmity gradually dissipated. Uryuu squirmed uncomfortably, feeling the binds digging into his wrists now that critical events had settled. Catching the miniscule movement, the man paused to consider him. His approach had Uryuu stiffening guardedly.

"Promise you won't try anything reckless," he requested.

"I won't try anything reckless." A ginger eyebrow arched dubiously until he sighed and added, "I promise."

He knelt in front of Uryuu to remove the ropes around his ankles first, then motioned for him to twist around so his arms could be freed. Again, he thought the seemingly sympathetic deed could have been a ploy, but his gut rebelled against the idea. He couldn't help staring curiously as he idly massaged away the ache in his wrists. The vampire resumed his restless pacing, oblivious to the scrutiny. If he was amenable to untying the prisoner, maybe he'd also be open to sharing some information.

"King…" tried Uryuu, noting how he almost glared at the appellation. "Isn't that what your brother called you?"

"Yeah, the bastard calls me that sometimes because he knows it pisses me off. It's not my name."

"All right. What is it?"

"Kurosaki."

'Black cloak' and 'white cloak' were so fitting Uryuu nearly smiled. He doubted those were their real names, either, but he wasn't about to press the issue when he had a full roster of questions he'd rather have answered first.

"Are there others of your kind in this city, Kurosaki?"

"I don't know. Possibly. It's not like we're all listed in a registry somewhere."

"What about your sire?"

"Well, she was an impetuous little weirdo, so…dead, probably. Hard to say; it was a long time ago."

"How long?"

Shrugging evasively, he muttered, "Late eighties."

That explained Shirosaki's borderline 'visual-kei' aesthetic. All he needed were some piercings and makeup. Uryuu was a bit surprised to hear they were relatively young for vampires. At least, the tales always made them sound like ancient beings crossing centuries untouched by the nuisances of mortality. For all that Kurosaki appeared a smidge older than his own youthful years, the man was more than twice that in reality. He certainly didn't act his age.

"So, it really has just been the two of you since then? Is that why you stay with him despite his immoral nature?"

"Do you hear me asking for your personal history? Why don't you tell me what it's like to be a nosy witch?"

He had rushed headlong into it and inevitably poked a sensitive subject but the conversation was still salvageable. After all, Uryuu wasn't as reticent to discuss his past.

"My father gave up the Craft before I was born and my mother never had a strong affinity for it, but my grandfather was happy to teach me everything he knew. I absolutely loved it." Relishing Kurosaki's amazement at his forthcoming monologue, he indulged a proud smirk and said, "I cast my first spell at age four. Familiar summoning: butterflies. I remember a flurry of green and blue and purple all around me, and the delight I'd felt from my sensei's praise. Years later, he told me that spell usually took adults months to master, but as a child I had managed it in days."

The vampire looked intrigued despite himself. He schooled his features into skepticism and asked, "If you're so good, why aren't you filthy rich and surrounded by adoring friends, or some obnoxious shit like that?"

There were so many things wrong with that question he didn't know where to begin correcting it.

"First, no self-respecting witch would abuse that much magic for personal gain. There are Karmic ramifications for that sort of thing. Second, I was good, back when I was practicing regularly. I haven't cracked a magical tome since I entered university several years ago. I'm not saying I've completely forgotten how to wield the power, but it doesn't flow like it used to. Not when I've been sticking to hedge-level enchantments at most."

"Why did you quit if you loved it so much?"

Uryuu averted his gaze, reluctant to get into all of that when it would take a while to explain how his mother's death had changed his father, and how his grandfather's death had changed him. It wasn't worth wading through the intricacies and dredging up old sorrow, but he could provide a general overview.

"The short answer is I didn't have the luxury of spending time on magic when I needed to work toward securing my future career."

"Which is…?"

Wincing lightly, he confessed, "Still not sure. Immunology or virology? I'm earning my doctorate in microbiology, so either field would—"

"Doctorate? How old are you?"

"You first." His smirk made a comeback at the perturbed pinch to Kurosaki's countenance. "I'm older than I look but younger than I should be. We have that in common."

A ripple of some stifled emotion resulted from that daring observation. Uryuu wanted to label it 'humor' but it disappeared too quickly to be certain. The vampire promptly strode away to sit on the sofa and he debated following. Based on what he had been told of Shirosaki's habits, the odds that Uryuu could wrangle out of a gruesome conclusion were pitiful. Yet, he didn't lose anything by cultivating friendly rapport with Kurosaki. It could only work in his favor. Besides, his mind was still roiling with inquiry.

Slowly, Uryuu stood. A pointed stare snapped to him but no orders were issued. Kurosaki watched him walk over and didn't utter a word of dissent as his captive perched on the cushion at the opposite end he occupied.

"Don't get too comfortable," he said, breaking eye contact at length. "He'll be back soon."

Uryuu hummed an affirmative. He endured a handful of charged seconds and boldly broached the trickiest topic yet, "What you said to Shirosaki earlier about 'last time'…what was that in reference to?"

"What do you think?" he darkly retorted.

"How many people has he killed?" Kurosaki didn't offer an estimate, but scrubbed a palm over his face like this impromptu interrogation was exhausting him. Maybe it was, but Uryuu needed to know, "How many have you killed?"

He twitched when the vampire's severe gaze collided with his. Kurosaki took a breath to respond and Uryuu held his in anticipation of the revelation.

The door flew open to knock against the wall, jolting them from the moment.

"Aw, don't you two look cozy," crooned Shirosaki with a cold smile. He flung a sizeable sack into Uryuu's lap and instructed, "Get busy, little witch! I worked up a beast of an appetite running your errand."

"I'll need access to the kitchen," he cautiously informed them. "I hope you have a functional stovetop."

"Right this way."

Shirosaki took his bruised wrist in a cruel grip and hauled him off the couch. A short hiss from Uryuu had the nicer twin jumping up to intervene on his behalf. Kurosaki smacked the other vampire's hand away and stepped between them for good measure.

"I'll take him. You wait here."

"What's the matter, bro? Don't trust me?"

Shirosaki chuckled at his own joke and their unamused expressions alike. With a guiding touch to his shoulder, Kurosaki led him into the kitchen and wordlessly indicated the stove. Uryuu got his attention before he could rejoin the troublemaker.

"Where did Shirosaki find these?" he asked, gesturing to the sack he held.

"Probably the same place you were searching for. Bastard doesn't hesitate to ransack a hole-in-the-wall magic shop but he won't stoop to stealing a few bags from the blood bank like I asked…" Astutely interpreting Uryuu's discomfiture, he reassured, "Don't worry, he didn't hurt anyone. I would know if he'd fed."

Exchange ended, Kurosaki left the narrow room. They started bickering almost immediately. Uryuu couldn't make out what they were saying and he didn't care to. He was more interested in assessing rain-sluiced windows for an escape route. They were nailed shut. The only other door led to a windowless bathroom. Of course, the vampires wouldn't have left him alone in here if there was another way out. Uryuu had no choice but to make the potion.

He set to it with single-minded purpose. Worst-case scenario, this concoction could mean the difference between life and death; he had to get it right on the first try. The stakes were so high that he had a brief fit of panic when he realized he'd forgotten to mention a pot was also a necessity, but a rummage through the cupboards proved productive. It looked like it had been there since the former tenant's occupancy, which wasn't surprising considering the current tenants' dietary requirements.

It was easy to get lost in the potion-making process. Uryuu hadn't crafted anything of this caliber in years but it came back to him quickly. He drew on the bottomless well of nature's reserves and shaped it to his will. The flow and ebb of the storm's untamed energy coursing through him was an exhilarating presence he had dearly missed. Aroma of simmering oils and texture of crushed herbs stimulated fond memories. Even pouring the finished liquid into a small glass bottle evoked a sense of tradition and accomplishment.

He pushed the cork into place and set his grandfather's blood tonic on the counter. The glass was colorless but the tonic was a rich red-violet. It could've passed for merlot. As he stared at it, dread began to creep back into his core. The fun part was over. Now he had to face his fate.

"All done?" Uryuu tensed to hear the telltale taunt in Shirosaki's tone from the doorway. How long had he been standing there? "Finally. Get in here."

Swiping the bottle from the counter, he obediently marched into the living room. Kurosaki was back to hovering on the far side of it. The clear confliction Uryuu read in his bearing did nothing to settle rankled nerves. He didn't know if it would be just Shirosaki biting him tonight, or both—he hadn't asked and Kurosaki hadn't mentioned it—but Uryuu was too smart not to prepare for that eventuality.

The stopper was removed with a tiny squeak and both vampires froze to see him take a draught of its contents.

"What are you doing?"

There was a tinge of alarm in Kurosaki's voice. Or maybe that was wishful thinking. Either way, he swallowed about half of the sour syrup down before replying.

"The measurements I dictated were for two doses."

One before, and one after. Uryuu had also imbued the ingredients with as much of the thunderstorm's essence as he could channel for an extra boost. Hell of a boost, he mused as he felt the tonic taking rapid effect. He could practically taste the electric effervescence on the tip of his tongue. His skin suffused with warmth and his senses sharpened acutely. It was invigorating like a dozen nights' rest or the most insane caffeine rush. Uryuu felt strong, like he could fight his way out of this mess after all.

The delusion was fleeting. Both brothers could smell the luscious change inside his body, blood thickening and rushing triumphantly through his veins. It was luring them closer from either side. Kurosaki reached him first. He paused to meet Uryuu's eyes before leaning in to scent his throat. The reaction was a quiet groan of longing, exactly as earlier, but with the addition of an excited shiver. It hinted at a looming lapse in his control.

Uryuu was petrified, heart juddering uncontrollably. It was half-primitive and half-intuitive. Somehow, he knew that once they started even Kurosaki's compassion would cede to his feral side. They wanted him too much, and he had made them wait too long. If his blood tasted anything like it smelled to them…no amount of tonic could save him.

Arms wound around his body and tightened. Shirosaki ensnared him from behind while Kurosaki pressed in from the front. Uryuu didn't want to die but he refused to beg for his life. He clenched his jaw and shut his eyes, calling them monsters in his mind. If they murdered him in spite of everything, he was going to haunt their asses straight to their graves!

"You'll be okay," whispered Kurosaki, and Uryuu wanted to believe it. His eyes flew open as the vampire added, "I promise."

He felt heat surrounding him, felt breath on his neck from both sides, felt the scrape of modified canines above his pulse points. Then all he could feel was agony, cutting so much deeper than he could've imagined. He cried out as he went dangerously lightheaded from shock. Uryuu's vision narrowed, consciousness threatening to flee, but he desperately held onto it.

It only lasted a few seconds.

The pain receded so swiftly he suspected he really had perished from the attack. But he could still feel their hands holding him in place, their mouths fastened to his flesh. He was still breathing, albeit erratically. There was also the fact that the eerie numbness was transforming into an abundance of pleasure.

It hit him all at once, twice as overwhelming for its unexpectedness. Uryuu had no words to describe it and nothing to compare it to. Even the best orgasm he'd ever had didn't come close. The next sound he made was an astonished moan. He couldn't have smothered it even if it had occurred to him to try. As it was, he was clinging to reality even as he was clinging to the unholy creatures stealing his vitality. Uryuu didn't care anymore. He wanted them to have it as long as he could keep feeling like this.

He had read about this side-effect of a vampire's bite. A so-called 'Gift' to the victim that was not customary but could be deliberately imparted, which was rare given how much energy it took to produce. Or so the stories claimed. Uryuu had no way of guessing which brother was injecting him with this potent batch of specialized chemicals. He wouldn't have been surprised to learn it was a concerted effort because he was struggling not to pass out from the unmitigated rapture swirling in his bloodstream.

The fingers that had reflexively grabbed onto their jackets tightened as his legs threatened to give, but Kurosaki's hands steadied at his hips. Uryuu was moaning again, he dimly noted, calling out his bliss as they drained his life force. He could feel it dwindling and he still didn't care. The arrhythmic thud of his heart was slowing. He would've let it stop but Kurosaki chose that moment to withdraw, pushing Shirosaki off, too. Uryuu slumped to the floor between them without their support.

His head was buzzing elatedly. The room was spinning and sparkling even from his prone position on the carpet. Kurosaki's figure swung into view above him and he deemed it appropriate to smirk at the vampire's worried expression. His lips were moving as if in speech but Uryuu couldn't hear any words. He was too tired to bother deciphering the message, anyway. His eyes slipped shut and he began to drift off to a dreamless sleep.

Except he was being roughly shaken by his shoulders. Uryuu grumbled unintelligible complaint but didn't have it in him to do much more. Another round of shaking had him blinking his eyes open in aggravation. Kurosaki was still trying to tell him something. The words slowly resolved as he concentrated on catching them.

"…shida, wake up! Ishida! You need to take the rest of your potion! Wake up, damn it!"

"A'right, 'm wake," he mumbled.

"Here, drink this."

One hand was supporting the back of his head while the other brought the bottle to his mouth. All Uryuu had to do was swallow what remained of his blood tonic and then he could…

His tonic! Everything came rushing back as the crippling lethargy subsided. Between one second and the next, Uryuu was livid. These two demons had not only violated him, but had forced him to enjoy it. He pushed Kurosaki away and endeavored to sit up on his own.

"Get away—get away from me!" he hoarsely shouted at the vampire. "Don't touch me!"

The volume triggered a twinge from his wounded throat, and Uryuu cringed to feel two sets of raw puncture marks there. The first thing he was doing when he got home was implementing a mending incantation so he wouldn't be branded by such telling scars for the rest of his life.

"Looks like that fancy potion works after all," approved Shirosaki. "Good thing, since you'll be needing a lot more of it."

Icy eyes slicing into the satiated vampire, Uryuu demanded, "What is that supposed to mean?"

"You didn't think we'd really let you go, did you?" He chuckled and said, "Not now that I've developed a craving for witch-blood."

He was gearing up to tear into the presumptuous ass but Kurosaki abruptly heaved him up off the floor and dragged him toward the exit. Shirosaki ranted rancorously over the betrayal but they weren't listening. The door was ripped open and Uryuu was shoved into the hallway, the messenger bag he had set aside earlier callously lobbed at him.

Their gazes briefly aligned, something heady and enigmatic transmitted through the connection. A tiny tug of gratitude for this granted liberation was influencing him not to end the bizarre night on such a distressing note.

"Kurosaki, I—"

"Sixteen."

"…What?"

"That's how many people I've killed, Ishida, and you just came very close to being the seventeenth."

Then he slammed the door on Uryuu's dumbstruck expression.