Disclaimer: This story was written by a fan only for the enjoyment of other fans, without any monetary compensation. Gundam Wing and its characters are registered trademarks of Bandai Entertainment Inc.™ and Sotsu Agency. All rights reserved.
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A special Thank You to Kt for beta reading.
Blood Ties
Chapter 7
One of the main perks of working in a bookstore, and a bookstore with very little business to be precise, was that one was able to read... a lot. Honestly, Quatre sometimes wondered how Howard could afford to pay him...or stay in business for that matter. But that wasn't really his problem, was it?
The young man was slouching over the counter, thumbing through a book of ancient spells. His work had long been done; all boxes emptied, all books neatly sorted into their respective shelves. Howard had long since returned from his outing, and was sitting as usual in his back office
Quatre suspected that he wasn't alone, because the door to the room was closed. Usually the old man only did that when he was meetings with a special 'customer'. He had noticed many strangers come and go, sometimes through the store, and sometimes through the back door that lead directly into the office. They would stay for a few minutes or for a few hours, one never knew.
He would be lying if he said he wasn't curious as to what kind of business was going on behind those closed doors, but quite frankly he was also not sure he really wanted to find out. Many of the people that came had a strange and dangerous aura about them, and Quatre was certain a good part of them were not even human.
The bell over the store entrance chimed, and the young man raised his head. Instinctively he could feel himself tense as he saw two, no three young men enter the store. They looked like trouble; and they didn't seem the kind that would be interested in antique books...or books of any kind for that matter. Dressed in dark gray trench coats and baggy pants they looked like something from a bad B-class movie.
On the top shelf of the Gothic novels rack, Oscar's favorite sleeping spot during the afternoon, the large tabby growled and hissed at the visitors.
One of the young men laughed as he walked toward the shelf.
"Boo!"
He had to jump back quickly because Oscar slapped at him with one of his clawed paws. He was an anti-social cat, perhaps, but he was usually not aggressive. Quatre had never seen him like that, up on all fours his back hunched and his fur bristled from the back of his neck all the way to the tip of his tail. Ducking his head, ears pulled back completely as he hissed again.
"Is there anything I can do for you?" Quatre tried to sound as polite and impartial as he could.
The trio turned toward him as though they only just noticed.
"I don't know." The tallest of the three, slender, almost skinny looking and with dirty blond hair, stepped toward the counter. He propped one elbow onto the cherry wood surface. "Can you?"
"I don't know either. Why don't you tell me what you are looking for?"
"I think I already found it," the young man smiled as he slowly reached out. One of his fingernails scraped gently over the side of Quatre's face. "You look positively delicious."
With a glare Quatre smacked his hand away.
Suddenly and without any warning Oscar came flying off the bookshelf. He landed on the stranger's back, clawing at his shoulders and neck as he gave a terrifying hiss.
The young man hissed back, literally. His eyes turned almost black, his face a grimace of fury, as he brushed the cat off throwing him against the nearby wall. Oscar was back on his feet in a split second, growling and hissing. Instinctively Quatre reached for the baseball bat beneath the counter. Just then Howard burst through the office door.
"What's going on?"
He looked around, scowling at the three visitors.
"Get out of here!"
"Why? This is a commercial building, we have every right to be here," the tall guy replied surprisingly calm. He dabbed a few droplets of blood from the back of his neck where the cat had scratched him, and licked his fingertip.
"This is a private business, I have the right to refuse to serve you," Howard countered. "Now take your friends and leave. I won't tell you again."
"What are you going to do, Grandpa?" one of the other two men taunted. "Are you going to kick our butt?"
"Is there a problem?!" another voice, deep, smooth, and with the authority of someone demanding respect, asked.
Quatre turned his head. The voice belonged to a man standing in the door to the office; tall, well dressed with neatly trimmed tawny hair. He looked neither particularly big nor very strong, but there was something dangerous and positively deadly about him.
"No problem at all. We were just looking for a restroom."
"Find one somewhere else," the tawny-haired stranger suggested. "You look like big boys. I'm sure you can hold it."
Apparently, the three hoodlums weren't completely stupid, nor completely suicidal. Without another word, but not without another glare toward Howard, the trio shuffled out of the front door.
Quatre's eyes followed them until the door closed behind them. When he turned his head the stranger was already gone.
"Who were those guys?" The young man looked questioningly at the store owner. Or more precise, what where they?
"Don't worry about them. Quatre, why don't you close up? I don't think we will see any more serious buyers today."
The young man nodded. "Got it! ...Oh, Howard. Do you mind if I take this book home for tonight? I'd like to finish reading it."
Howard shrugged. "What is it?" he asked as he cranked his neck to get a better look at the title of the book lying on the counter.
"Wow, kid. You aren't planning on trying your hands on some spell are you?"
"Hell no." Quatre laughed. "I wouldn't even know where to start. I just find the subject interesting."
"Good...Good!" the old man seemed satisfied. "Spells and curses are not something to be meddled with, if you don't know what you are doing. There are people I know who have tried it and regretted it for the rest of their lives, or worse, didn't live long enough to regret it."
"Is that a yes?"
"Yeah, sure, take it home, but make sure to return it when you are finished," Howard nodded as he returned into the backroom to re-join his visitor.
Once alone Quatre started looking around for Oscar, only to find the tabby back on his favorite bookshelf, grooming his silky fur as though nothing unusual had happened. The young man smiled as he dug a Munchie from the jar of treats.
"There you go. I think you deserved that."
The feline purred, pressing his head against Quatre's face as he devoured the cookie. The young man scratched him behind those velvet-soft ears.
"You are really something, you know that, Oscar?"
At the mentioning of his name the tabby looked up, and for a moment Quatre could have sworn there was something distinctly intelligent and human in those amber colored cat eyes.
Slowly, thoughtfully the young man turned away, making his way down the row of bookshelves until he found what he was looking for under "F - Familiars".
####
In the backroom of the Rainbow Pond Heero was polishing off a second bowl of Chili, arguably the best he had ever eaten. The dish had great flavor and just the right kick, without burning one's throat. The cook served it with fresh homemade tortilla chips. No wonder it was one of his signature dishes.
Phil, his real name was Felipe and he was born and raised in Mexico, was cutting tortillas for another batch of his delicious chips when Heero entered the kitchen. He looked at the young man and the empty bowl in his hands.
"More for you?"
"No, no more, thanks." Heero quickly assured him. "It was great, really. But I can't eat another bite."
The clock on the wall read 7:23, and the young man could tell dusk was beginning to fall. Not fast enough, as far as he was concerned. As he stepped out into the back alley, Heero threw a look up into the sky. He was waiting eagerly for it to be dark, so that he could head out and pick up the search that he had been forced to abandoned early in the morning. But the sun had not yet fully set. It was still too risky for him to change. The last time he had been seen in wolf form he had found himself running from animal control. Not an experience he cared to repeat. But his human senses were not nearly honed enough to pick up the trail of the man he had lost.
The young man settled down on top the wide stone steps. Not to be able to do anything but wait was frustrating to say the least.
"Beer?"
Heero turned his head. Leaning against the worn door frame was Duo, holding up one of two beer bottles in his hands.
"Sure," he nodded, and then as the other man handed him the bottle: "Thank you."
"Mind if I join you?"
"Go ahead." Heero moved slightly to make room on the step. "But don't you have to open the bar?"
"Not for another half an hour. Most of my customers don't come out of the woodwork until the moon is up," Duo replied with a grin.
The moon!
Heero threw another gaze skyward. It hadn't fully risen yet, but he could feel it's power already; making him restless. Apparently he was not the only one anxious. From the nearby animal sanctuary he could hear the call of a couple of coyotes. Moments later a number of wolves joined the concert. Their howls so familiar and soothing, it almost made him homesick.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?"
"Huh?" He looked at Duo questioningly.
"The night sky I mean."
"I guess." Heero took a sip from his beer bottle before looking at the other man again. After a moment of hesitation he finally asked.
"You are not human, are you?"
To his surprise Duo threw his head back and laughed. "Look who is talking. Aren't you a bit off the evolutionary chart yourself?"
"That doesn't scare you?"
"Not particularity," the young man shrugged. "But may I ask you a question?"
"Go ahead."
"Why did you come here? To this town I mean?"
"I have been looking for someone."
"Did you find him?"
Heero shook his head. "Not yet. But I will even if it..." He swallowed the rest of the sentence and sniffed the air. Someone had entered the club, the scent... The young man tensed.
"Woah! Relax!" Duo grabbed him by the arm before he could jump to his feet. His grip was surprisingly strong. "That's just Charley, the bouncer."
He relaxed somewhat."Your bouncer is a vampire? You have got to be joking."
"Hell no, Vampires make excellent bouncers. Although it takes two of them to keep order on Karaoke night," Duo replied dryly, and then after a look into Heero's stunned face he burst into laughter.
"Now I AM joking. We don't do karaoke night."
####
Checking his watch when he left the store, Quatre realized that he was early. For a moment he considered whether he should wait out here for Trowa or go back inside. But then he pulled out his phone.
"I'm leaving. Meet me at the car," he texted.
The sun had barely set and the heat of the day hadn't yet fully dissipated. The cool evening breeze felt nice against his face as he headed down the empty street. He wasn't sure how far he had walked when he suddenly had the feeling that he wasn't alone. Slowing down, he listened into the darkness, trying to pick up the sound of footsteps. But there were none. Still the feeling of being watched remained. He was quite certain that he was being followed.
"Trowa?!" he called out quietly. "Triton? Is that you?"
No answer, and no sound at all. Quatre quickened his pace, the feeling only got stronger. He finally stopped.
"Trowa!" the young man scowled. "If this is supposed to be some kind of joke, it isn't funny. Come out, now!"
"Oh...you don't think it's funny?" Not one but two...no three figures separated themselves from the shadows and stepped into his path. The trio from earlier in the bookstore.
Quatre kicked himself mentally for not having waited for Trowa.
"Step aside and let me through," he demanded firmly.
"Sorry, can't do that," the tallest of the tree men, very obviously the leader, replied. "You didn't say please."
"Get out of my way, please!" Quatre emphasized the last word. But at the same time his right hand went into his pocket. Beneath his car keys he felt a small spray-bottle. As he wrapped his fingers around it he felt for the nozzle and the push button on top.
The tall goon just laughed. It was a laugh that set one's teeth on edge and sent a cold shiver down one's back. When he took another step and reached out Quatre reacted. He pulled the bottle from his pocket - his car keys dropped to the ground in the process - and sprayed his opponent straight in the face. Pepper spray might have been more effective...if his attackers would have been human. In this case, however, holy water did wonders.
With a cry of surprise and pain the vampire jumped back, pressing both hands over his eyes. Where the holy water was eating through his skin like acid, it exposed uneven patches of bloody flesh and bone.
His companions, too surprised to react stared at him in shock. For a moment it looked as though they were torn between running away and fighting. In the end pride overtook common sense.
Quatre had nowhere to run, and he had little time to think. He kicked the first attacker between the legs. He wasn't even sure if vampire anatomy was the same as human, until the man doubled over in pain and went to the ground. His companion was fast; too fast for Quatre to react. Something hit him in the chest, threw him several feet backward and into a solid brick wall, hard enough to knock the wind out of him. Before he could even move his opponent attacked again.
"You bastard!"
He saw a face distorted by hatred, large white fangs and claws long enough to rip out his throat. Instinctively Quatre brought up his arms to protect himself. He could almost feel his attackers' hot breath against his skin when the night was suddenly pierced by a sound somewhere between a snarl and a cry of fury. It took Quatre a moment to realize the sound didn't come from the vampire.
Something dashed past him too fast to see. To his human eye it was nothing but a blur. There was the sound of something slashing through the air, paired with the sickening noise of flesh and bone being cut. Something warm and sticky splattered against Quatre's raised arms, and the vampire's severed head landed next to him. The headless body was still moving, almost grotesquely as though it didn't know it was already dead. Even as it started to turn to dust and crumbled it still took another step or two.
Trowa spun around, one arm stretched out toward the tall vampire who was still wailing in pain. A cloud of vapor seemed to shoot from his hand and suddenly the vampire was hit by a flame. Wails turned into screams as the fire engulfed his body.
The last of the trio, the one who had been temporarily incapacitated by Quatre's kick, jumped to his feet and fled. Before Trowa could go after him and finish him off as well, Quatre jumped up.
"No! Stop it," he yelled as he grabbed the young man from behind and held him tied. "Let him go. It's over."
Only after he felt Trowa calm down, did he release the demon from his embrace. As he bent down to pick up the car keys that had dropped earlier Quatre noticed his hands were shaking. Suddenly his stomach lurched. He stumbled to the side of the street, dropped down to his knees and vomited his heart out.
He could feel Trowa approach from behind but when the young man reached out to touch him he tensed involuntarily.
Trowa pulled away as if he had burned his fingers. "I'm sorry!"
"No." Quatre wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt. "I didn't mean to... I mean I was..." He shook his head, not sure what he was trying to say. Finally he just stammered. "I don't think I can drive right now."
####
The parking lot at the 'Rainbow Pond' was only half full as Treize Khushrenada pulled up in front of the bar. He took a quick look around, his eyes searching for Milliardo's flashy, red corvette. When he didn't find the car he parked his own vehicle, locked it and slowly walked toward the bar.
Out in front a couple of... he wasn't quite sure what they were, but as far as he could tell at least one of them was only partially human... stood smoking and talking. They were laughing about some kind of joke as he passed them. The bouncer, a man roughly the size of Gheorghe Muresan, gave Treize one look before nodding at him.
"Welcome back!"
The incubus returned the gesture. As he stepped into the bar his eyes swept the room, searching for Milliardo. Once he was sure the young man wasn't there - not that he had really expected to see him - he walked to the bar and slipped into one of the leather stools.
The barkeeper eyed him with the same guarded look he had given the incubus the night before. He finished mixing the drinks he had been pouring, slid them toward two young men sitting at the other side of the bar then came over to Treize.
"What can I get you?"
"Milliardo. I mean...I see his car is gone, so I assume I've missed him."
"By a few hours," Duo Maxwell confirmed. "He came by to pick it up this afternoon."
"Hmm," Treize grunted thoughtfully. "I take it he comes here frequently? May I leave a message for him with you?"
"Do I look like a bloody answering machine?" Duo grumbled.
"Please?!" the incubus asked calmly, politely. "I would be much obliged."
The barkeeper huffed but pushed a pad of paper and a pen in front of him. "I can't promise I'll be seeing him any time soon, though. He might be here a few days in a row then not show for weeks to come."
Treize nodded understandingly. "Thanks."
"One other thing... This place is considered neutral territory. I don't allow fights... or weapons of any kind. So if you ever want to come in here again..." the rest of the sentence was left hanging in the air, but Treize understood anyway.
He nodded again.
"No disrespect intended. My apologies. May I see your wine card?"
Duo grabbed one of the menus from beneath the bar and put it in front of the older man. "Didn't you take Milliardo home last night?"
"I did." Treize confirmed.
"Then you know where he lives. Wouldn't it be easier, and faster to just deliver your message in person?"
"Well, let's just say..." the incubus smiled faintly as he opened the wine menu. "I'd prefer not to show up uninvited."
####
"Misses Robinson, his neighbor from across the hall was holding the elevator when he entered the lobby of his apartment building. The old lady must have just returned from walking her dog; like clockwork she took a walk every day between Jeopardy and the evening news.
"Thanks." Nichols put on a smile.
"She returned the smile while her pooch, a white teacup poodle yipped at the young man. Nothing unusual there, Biscuit always barked at him...or anyone else for that matter.
A hidden glare caused the mutt to pull his tail between his legs, whimper and hide behind his mistress.
"Working late again, Mister Nichols?"
"Yeah well," he smiled politely. "Not much one can do. Bills need to be paid, right?"
"So right, so right..." she agreed as the elevator reached the top floor. The doors opened with a swoosh. "Will we see you at the block party this weekend?"
"I don't think so. I'll probably have to work."
They walked together to their apartments.
"Oh, that's a shame. Well, good night."
"Good night."
He waited until her door had shut before unlocking his own. He walked into the apartment, closed the door and sealed it with a basic protection spell, simple enough even for him to handle.
Only then he turned on the overhead lights and went to check on his 'guest'. The pull-out couch in the living room had been turned into a makeshift bed, occupied by a young man apparently in his late teens. His blond hair was mussed and sweaty, his chest covered tightly with white linen bandages.
One of the pillows had fallen to the floor. As Nichols bent down to pick it up the sleeping figure stirred. A pair of bright blue eyes opened slowly.
"You are awake?!"
"Where am I?" The young man swallowed as he pushed himself up onto one elbow.
"At my place."
"It's Nichols, isn't it? You serve the Khushrenada house."
"I serve my Prince!" Nichols replied tersely.
"How did I get here?"
"You don't remember?"
Looking down at his bandage wrapped chest Sebastian von Ranzow shook his head. "Not exactly."
"Well, what exactly do you remember?"
T.B.C.
Author's Note:
