We hope you enjoyed the beginning of this new arc...and that you still have your safety blankets ready, because things are far from being over!
« Abysmally » - Part Two
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The emptied glass shattered on the wooden floor. Both hands on the table, her lips still wet with the reddish drink she had just swallowed, Yuuki was panting. In the room inhabited only by her, her whizzing breath and her pounding heart filled all available space. A pale setting sun, still visible out of her window, bathed her in its last rays, but her eyes remained wide open in her stupor. She would have liked the feeble light to be the reason behind her tears, and not the horrible scene she had just been a party to.
Gulping, short of breath, she straightened up and looked for a mirror. Above the dressing table, she glanced at the reflection of a haggard and aghast young woman, her temples dampened by sweat. She pursed her lips and finally tried to take hold of herself, ashamed by this pitiful show. She ran a tired hand through her hair. These past few days, it had become dull. Her skin was strikingly pale and, with renewed terror, she thought she could recognize all the symptoms of bloodlust.
But it couldn't be!
She grabbed another glass from the tray, threw three new Blood Tablets into it with water from a carafe, waited painfully for them to dissolve and drank it in one gulp. She put the glass down more carefully this time, then stepped back and let herself fall on a couch. Her hand wiped her lips nervously, then she sank into the cushions, pulling her legs to her chest, and waited again.
But, just as with the first drink, the satiety granted by the Blood Tablets was slow to come, and, when it finally did, it only reduced the hunger devouring her by half, leaving a more-or-less bearable pain at the back of her throat. Her fangs disappeared, but she had the feeling that her canines were sharper than usual. Still, she was content with this brief respite and began to focus on breathing normally. After several long minutes, a semblance of serenity finally set in, as well as some sort of lethargy, which had become usual for her recently, and from which she didn't try to escape.
Then, as cautious as a guilty person coming back to the crime scene, she thought about her last "discussion" with Zero.
"Don't forget who I am, Yuuki."
She still couldn't believe it. He had refused! She had done everything to awaken his thirst and lead him to feed off her, and anyway, with their bond of master and liegeman, she usually only had to say one word to get what she wanted. Yet, he had left. She felt him get away, walking calmly, indifferent to her order and to the thirst which – she was sure of it – had violently taken hold of him...
How could he disobey her…?
Curled up on herself, eyes closed, she hesitated, then ran her hand under her hair, over her neck. Where he would have bitten her, her skin was still smooth and perfect, warm and painless, not like skin that had healed too fast. She felt a pang of guilty relief as she realized, again and again, that he had not touched her.
"I've had enough of biting someone who's more afraid of it than me."
Yuuki's veil of apathy disappeared, and a fit of hot anger took hold of her, so violent she clawed her own throat. She leapt up, quivering with rage. How could he refuse her gift? Yes, she was deadly afraid each time, and so what! Who was he to behave like this with a Pureblood, he who never had the balls to admit his vampire nature and live it in broad daylight!
Astonished by her own vehemence, Yuuki froze, tried to calm down. Feverish, she struggled to keep her mind clear. With difficulty, she remembered Zero's eyes, full of distress, as she forced him to come close, and then those eyes, no longer desperate but clear and dignified as he pushed her away. With a mixture of surprise and frustration, she realized that such a refusal from him hurt her. Hurt her far more than a bite or an insult.
Exhausted, she sat back on the couch, started to comb her hair with her fingers, with slow nervousness. In those moments, she had always thought her apprehension before him had remained unnoticed, that the animal desire she instilled forcibly in him would prevent him from noticing the deep revulsion she felt when he touched her. Because, if she was so brutal and sharp in her commands, it was in the hope of inspiring so much anger in him that he could not see his torturer's anguish.
The memory of his breath on her neck made her shiver, and she hid her face between her hands, biting back a nervous whimper. It wasn't that Zero made her feel disgusted or horrified: on the contrary, his presence felt more familiar, more soothing than she would have liked to admit. He didn't talk much, and neither did she and as they walked toward the same goal, it gave her the delusional feeling that they were on the same page, like before. Ever since he surrendered to her arguments and accepted to help her, he had been the very image of neutrality and silence, and it reminded her too much of the old Zero she knew in her youth.
So, in a way, and even if she knew he had been forced to do it, she appreciated his presence at her side. But the other side of the bond she chained him to, the fact that he couldn't, despite his efforts, feed on anyone else but her, and the misfortune that his body still couldn't absorb the Blood Tablets…
"...It's pathetic," she whispered almost without noticing.
As traitorous and sly as a snake, anger boiled again inside her, and she was certain, for one second, that if Zero had been close to her, she would have slapped him as hard as she could.
"I've had enough of biting someone who's more afraid of it than me."
Zero's cutting remark made her stand up again, boiling with rage. She glared at the corridor door, as if all of her shame was hidden behind it. If it wasn't for her Pureblood pride, she would have run after him, and then he would see who was more afraid!
With clenched teeth, hunger still gnawing her insides, she took her head between her hands. What did he think, this boor? That a vampiress could give away her blood, like this, to anyone? It wasn't because he had already bitten her as a teenager that she submitted herself to his fangs with good grace. He was but a mere human, a hunter that Fate had made vampire in a sinister joke. She offered her throat to sate him, in all appearance indifferent, but in fact, neither of them had a choice.
"You're not him…!"
Zero said he resigned himself to help her, but didn't he understand? Couldn't he imagine her anguish and show her a bit of respect, she who, ever since she became a Pureblood again, had only known one man, in the human, vampire or biblical meaning of the word!
To drink someone's blood at their neck, to steal their life, their energy, their very essence, it was as primal and intimate as making love, for fuck's sake!
"And you're not Kaname!"
Her desperate cry broke the silence and, without warning, her power burst out across the room. Glasses and carafe on the table were thrown to the ground, maps and travel notes flew in an explosion of paper. The shock wave took down the chair and shook the furniture, hit the window and cracked its panes. In the mirror above the dressing table near the bed, her reflection was shattered by a long crack.
Short of breath, she didn't pay much attention to the disaster, called out by only one crystalline sound. Her anger disappeared in one instant, as quickly as it came. Her face caved by fear, she knelt by the fallen objects and picked up a few maps before finding what she was looking for.
On the floor, the small crystal trapped in amber was gleaming faintly. She picked it up hastily, studied it from every angle, but it wasn't scratched. Relieved, she immediately put the satin ribbon around her neck, and held the jewel close to her, breathing erratically. When, after a few minutes of reverence, she opened her eyes and looked at the disaster with surprise, as if she had just entered the room. Slowly, she got up, embraced her surroundings with eyes full of distress.
What was happening to her? These past few days – or was it weeks? – she didn't recognize herself. Between Zero's rescue in Neidchmard and the healing of Hermia's companion, her exhaustion had gotten a little better but never really left her. Though impassive on the outside, she felt hypersensitive and barely controlled herself in public. Left alone, memories and feelings engulfed her, her mood swung endlessly, and she could go from the most burning anger to the utmost despair in the span of one minute.
She had completely lost control...
Overwhelmed, Yuuki sat on the bed, her pendant held tight against her, a violent anguish tearing her insides.
"It was like this before…"
She swallowed hard. She recognized the state she had been in. The first time was when she had tried to live without blood, like Kaname. At first, she had gone through a state where she felt both irritability and a singular apathy. Then, violent and mentally exhausting mood swings, as she went from languid sadness to destructive rage so quickly that she only understood what had happened in hindsight.
And aggressivity had remained the only true feeling left in her, defined by a devouring thirst that no Blood Tablet could sate for long enough. This last phase was, according to Kaname, not the longest, but the most draining physically and mentally.
Reminiscing of her own experience of this last phase, Yuuki failed to suppress a terrified shudder. She winced, in fact, to hide her tears of despair. No, that couldn't be it, not anymore! She had fought almost two years against her instinct. Kaname had always remained strong and serene, despite their vampire lovemaking which could have awoken her instinctive bloodthirst... she couldn't relapse! Not now!
Not when he wasn't here to save her anymore!
"Kaname...I can't survive another fit! I can't stand it without you..."
Yuuki whimpered like a child and didn't try to hide it anymore. Tears in her eyes, heavy-headed, she curled up against a pillow, exhausted. The Blood Tablets, taken in too much quantity, now made her feel nauseous. Psychologically drained, she let herself sob silently.
And she found herself hoping for Zero's return.
Because, when he was there, his presence – or was it her own pride? – helped her remain strong and dignified…
Her eyelashes still wet with unshed tears, she fell into a restless sleep.
Somewhere within her, the Beast kept chuckling…
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Night was falling slowly, but the town remained alive under the gaslights. In the streets, city dwellers were ambling, merchants were coming home after closing their shops, housewives with their grocery bags, travellers looking for a hotel to rest, workers clocking off and gathering in the pubs for one last drink before going home. Hastily, the last ships were unloaded and anchored in the Lisenthard port, to the song of the bells of the tugs and the cries of the dockers.
Amongst this joyful agitation, Zero remained unnoticed, to his relief. While he left the hotel with a surprising calm regarding the circumstances, the thirst remained within him. A muffled but tenacious feeling. It wasn't painful anymore, just unpleasant. And he cursed Yuuki for pressuring his vampire instincts like this. Without her, he could have gone on for at least a week before even thinking about finding someone who would agree to give him blood.
At least, that was the pace he had adopted before she found him. But his attack on the train, the painful feeling of thirst Yuuki inspired in him, and which still tormented him relentlessly, all this led him to ponder. Ever since he had accepted to help her, he had hoped that his need for blood would go back to its previous state. Today, he wasn't so sure anymore...
Yuuki's dismayed gaze while he pushed her back flashed in his memory. His face darkened as he was reminded of the irresistible desire she caused in him, his tremors as he finally showed his fangs, the devouring thirst he finally pushed back with a tremendous effort.
And Yuuki's sigh...a terrified one. Until then, when she forced him to drink from her neck, he was never sure of what he felt from her, too distracted from the torrent of urges, sensations and desires she inspired in him. Every time, her mind-control chained him so tightly that for a few minutes, there was nothing but her skin, her throat, her blood. Yuuki's reaction, in his memories, was only a small cry of pain when he bit her, a healing hand put on her injury once his thirst was sated, a silhouette walking away with indifference and letting him assimilate the rich substance she had given him. Yet, this time, and for reasons unknown, he had felt the Pureblood's distress, her uneasiness freezing each of her muscles, her primal anguish and her shiver of horror. He could measure up how much she wanted to push him away.
To know that he disgusted her so much had probably revolted him, at least enough for him to escape the hold she had on him. Strange, but not impossible. That Yuuki refused to take the blood from anyone, this he could understand. But to force herself so much to give hers...was it sensible?
He saw again Yuuki in the manor while they had healed from their injuries: she had spent entire days sitting in her alcove, her eyes lost in the contemplation of the white landscapes. He could still see her hand clenched on her pendant, the serenity laced with sadness she seemed to pull from it, the too-fragile and too frail smile she sometimes had when she kissed the jewel when she thought he wasn't looking. Feelings for her soulmate, transcending death... She loved him and always would, he understood, more painfully than he could ever admit.
Powerful but primal creatures when blood was concerned, vampires weren't known to keep the same partner forever. In some circles, swinging was even commonplace, openly and perfectly accepted. Zero had heard how rare – and even difficult, unnatural – to keep their blood and their thirst for just one person…
The vow to remain faithful to one's blood was the ultimate proof of love in the Night World. Had Yuuki followed it those past five years?
Zero slowed down then stopped, troubled by this sudden revelation. Slowly, he looked up to the pitch-black sky, and try to comprehend. In his five years of following the Association's orders, the depravities he had observed – and punished when they involved non-consenting humans – had strengthened his disgust for the vampires. Unconsciously, he had pictured his former friend like all of the others: someone maybe bonded by love to only one being, but not above refusing an offer or a demand of another's blood... and maybe more.
If indeed, she only kept herself to Kaname for all this time, then it was logical that the idea of being bitten by someone else would disgust her. And with the trauma she went through a few weeks before…
"I've had enough of biting someone who's more afraid of it than me."
Zero bit back an exasperated sigh, suddenly regretting his last words, before realizing with surprise that he didn't feel angry at her. Once more, she went against his will, stomped his pride, used her power to force him to obey. In a charming and repulsive way, as always. And yet, he didn't hold it against her.
This notion was... concerning. Was the bond between them the reason behind this resilience? Would the day come when, ordered to shoot down a hunter friend, his own mind, like his body, wouldn't mind it? His previous feat yet refuted such a future...
Perplexed, Zero carried on his way. A silhouette coming to him among crowd suddenly pulled him from his thoughts. Without thinking, he took a turn into an alley to his left and, hidden in the shadows, he waited in silence. After a few seconds, a woman, about thirty years old, walked by smiling, with a little boy bundled up in a coat slightly too large for him. Instinctively, Zero's eyes fell on the mother's hands: she was wearing gloves, but he knew it wasn't because of the cold, barely noticeable on this late afternoon.
Oblivious to the hunter's presence, the mother and her child passed by. After waiting for their return a few moments, Zero carried on, deep in thought. The town hall fire had left its mark two years ago. But the only two human survivors of this tragedy looked happy today...and that was all that mattered.
Lost in his memories, Zero left the main road and roamed the back alleys with an ease born of habit. His steps led him to an ordinary-looking small shop. In the tiny shop window, a few cans and jars were piled up. Above them, meat hooks were shining. Zero pushed the door without hesitation.
The inside looked barely more welcoming, though it was clean. A lantern on a beam threw a dim light on the only room. Even if the counter and the floors had been scrubbed, it smelled of high meat and tobacco.
Behind the counter, a gruff-looking man was sharpening some big cleavers.
"We're closed," he grunted between two pulls on his pipe.
"I'm lucky then, I'm here for the Butcher," Zero answered in an even tone.
The hissing sound of the whetstone stopped, and the man finally looked up, his eyes a grey so pale they almost looked white. He stared at the newcomer, then had a silent chuckle.
"Well, if it isn't the young Kelos coming to town..."
The man had a grin so large it almost split his craggy face in two, unveiling yellowing teeth. He leaned behind the counter, as if to put his cleaver behind it, but got up almost immediately, his smile gone. Silver flashed in his hand.
Two shots rang at the same time: the lantern wobbled. Zero felt the gust of wind a few inches from his cheek but did not move. The bullet dug into the door frame, already badly damaged, and exploded in a sizzling seal of dark purple. Zero stepped away from it as if to contemplate it with a critical eye, then faintly smiled.
"You haven't lost your touch."
The butcher kept him in his cross-hairs for a few moments, then had another smile, smaller but more natural.
"You have to, with times like these."
He lowered his weapon, as did Zero. Behind the Butcher, the purple and silver curls left by the anti-vampire bullet Zero had shot at the wall faded away
An old ritual between hunters of equal ranks, who, as well-informed humans, knew that their bullets couldn't seriously harm them. In the hopes of keeping his secret safe as long as possible, Zero took months to perfect this nonchalance before his foreign colleagues, who for the most part ignored both his name and his true nature.
"Ah, it's been a long time since I heard the Bloody sing. She's a pretty toy, this one."
The man left the counter and walked to Zero, his weapon in his belt, holding out his hand to him.
"Bloody Rose. Difficult to handle, but precise and powerful. Doesn't need much maintenance and yet never jams. Perfect for the trigger-happy and those who want a job well done."
Zero listened to him without saying anything, unsurprised by such a greeting. He shook his hand before sheathing his gun. The moon-like eyes of the butcher didn't leave the weapon until it disappeared under Zero's coat.
"You took care of it... didn't change a bit since the last time I saw it. So? What can I do for Tistahn Kelos, the saviour of Lisenthard?"
"I need some special supplies. Does your offer still stand?"
The man raised a brow, circumspect, widening his right eye. His metallic irises seemed to probe Zero's deepest soul. He didn't flinch. Then the butcher had a faint smile, and, as he took off his blood-stained apron, walked back to his counter.
"Follow me, kiddo."
With a swiftness surprising for his build, the butcher reached the only other door of the room, behind the counter. When he took off his apron to throw it away in a corner, Zero saw without surprise the black tattoo, as big as the thumb's fingernail, at the base of his neck.
The Hunter Association symbol.
The door opened to a stair leading to the darkness of a basement. Grabbing a lantern hooked at shoulder length, the butcher lit it while grumbling something, then climbed down the stairs. Zero was about to follow him when a shudder ran through him. Suddenly nervous, the hunter looked behind him, checked his surroundings. But nothing, in the shop or outside, or even at the end of those stairs, was even vaguely threatening. On his guard, he slowly began to follow his host.
Until then faint, the thirst nagging him suddenly became stronger. Surreptitiously, he put his hand on the Bloody Rose in its holster and, by some reflex he could not explain, the vampire instinct growling inside him withdrew, like a wolf fleeing the dreaded fire. Zero hoped it would leave him alone for at least half an hour. As long as his eyes remained normal...
His uneasiness had nothing to do with the violent pang he had felt on the train the night before, but Zero had a bad feeling about it. Last time he had had such fits, without any warning, it was back at the Academy when he was about to fall to Level E at any moment...
"What brings you here, Kelos? You can shoot a whole vampire orgy with nothing but the Bloody Rose and standard bullets. You ain't got nothing to prove with your talent..."
The lantern was swinging a few meters below, throwing the butcher's ominous shadow on the cold stone walls.
"I'll have a new target soon. I need more...powerful supplies."
"Oh? Tired of running after Level Es and small nobs?"
Zero didn't answer, and the butcher wasn't one to take offence of it. He was at the end of the stairs. In the shadow, he could distinguish a reinforced door, akin to the one of a cold chamber. Knowing the rumours, Zero guessed that behind it was kept something other than just meat. Something far more dangerous.
"I may have a few things that could be useful to you. Nothing to do with the junk those Anti-Vampire Militia simpletons buy at a discount from me... you must have seen them, yes? Those greenhorns like to play tough, but most of them are nothing but freshly-recruited punks. These days, it's not good walking around after the curfew in Lisenthard, and not only because of the vampires...Believe me, some militiamen have as much morality as a starving Level E."
As he started working on the numerous locks, Zero barely listened to him, short of breath. Muffled and traitorous, the unknown and unpredictable thirst holding him could amplify at any moment and betray his true nature. If he had to fight his murderous impulses, he would be defenceless…
Defenceless before the best unofficial gunsmith of the Association, who was also a former hunter, one of the most formidable who ever lived. Losing control in his presence would sign his death warrant. Or his opponent's, if he let himself go too far.
As if to approve this horrible possibility, the vampire within him hissed impatiently…
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A hoarse roar. Weak, shivering with anguish, quivering with want.
A black veil surrounded her like a sticky coat of heat and darkness.
Her long ebony hair, once her pride, was now nothing but a nuisance, stuck as it was to her alabaster skin, tangled by her sweat.
Her heart was pounding like a trapped bird against her deafened, ringing ears.
Her breath, quick and heavy, was burning on her chapped lips.
Deep within her, a familiar and horrible pain had awoken. Rumbling, perpetual, sometimes sharp enough to make her moan in anguish. Her hand closed on her pendant, the other grasping the bed sheet hard enough to tear it apart, Yuuki struggled with terror against her fangs, traitorous, trying to lengthen with so much tenacity that they hurt. A new pain spread through her jaw, jolting her brain, and shattered more of her remaining sane thoughts.
Her mind swirled aimlessly, like a boat lost in a tempest. She felt feverish, exhausted. Felt like vomiting. Her flesh was tortured by the ancestral calling she ignored for too long.
Beyond her will, nested up deep inside her mind, the Beast was waiting patiently despite its excitement. Yuuki didn't see it, didn't hear it…
No, she felt it. In every cell of her thirst-exhausted body, in every one of her blood-filled vessels. Under every pore of her skin, ready to tear her apart. It purred, clawed patiently at her last defences. Licking its chops, it was smiling.
And Yuuki was afraid. Afraid of what this smile entailed. Afraid of the promise screaming in its eyes, shimmering with power and madness.
"Kaname...Kaname…!"
Half-conscious, she let herself drift slowly in the bottomless bog of her delirium. Curled up amidst the ruffled covers, she was crying and did not even notice it. Her tears, hot and salty, already stained the pendant she was praying to, hoping to draw in its crystal one last shred of strength, of hope.
"Please...Kaname..."
The last bit of her consciousness gave in to exhaustion. Thinking this was the abandon it was waiting for, the Beast dove into the breach. Indifferent, Yuuki let it come up slowly but surely to the surface, while she fell into a world far heavier and scarier than sleep.
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"I never thought it would be so... difficult."
The slow, peaceful and comforting rhythm of Kaname's heart missed a beat. Since she had put her head on his torso, she heard it too well. She half-waited for an answer: after all, she was the one who asked for such a trial. Closing her eyes, she had an unpleasant feeling, almost familiar, like a thunderous lump in her throat. If she was still human, she would have recognized it as the sign of upcoming tears.
But now? Was she able to cry for something other than suffering or rage? Cutting short to her thoughts, Kaname put his warm hand on her bare shoulder, embracing her gently.
"Feeling like you're starving, dying of thirst, of fever, that you're drowning in deep water, torn apart by a wild beast...all of it at once."
She shuddered, surprised. Slowly, she sat up and looked into his eyes. Deep in Kaname's brown irises, she thought she could see a shadow, one last piece of suffering she had never seen until then. Was it the words he just said that had awakened in him this distant pain?
She felt a lump in her throat, less because of the hardship she had just been through than the idea that he too had had to face such an ordeal.
"There were moments," she whispered, "When the pain was too much... I cursed you for it..."
Kaname avoided her gaze.
"I warned you. It was too soon for you."
"I'm your sister," she replied in a gruff tone. "If you can do it, so can I."
"Yuuki, do you even have the slightest idea of how old I was when I stopped drinking human blood?"
The vampiress didn't answer. Without knowing exactly how much, she knew that Kaname – at least in mind – was far older than she was. Wordlessly, she laid down again at his side, her head once more on his torso. After a short lingering moment, Kaname's arm embraced her again, his other hand slowly stroking her long and silky hair.
"The Blood Tablets were created shortly before the Night Class," remembered Yuuki slowly. "Kaien Kurosu and you were very busy. Back then, you looked tired, and I thought it was because of your work. But I didn't know anything."
"You were but a child, Yuuki. And given my position back then, I had to remain dignified. Even the Senate didn't see anything, and yet they all knew I was abstaining from drinking blood. They took me for someone with exceptional strength, which was greatly useful to me."
"But you suffered."
"Yes."
"...How long?"
"Several months..."
"Will it... will be as long for me?"
Kaname took a long breath. She knew that he was deep in thought.
"Maybe more, maybe less. Our situations aren't the same."
"Because the only blood I drank was yours…?"
"In part, yes."
"Do the other vampires also have this problem?"
"Strangely enough, no. Withdrawal is never easy, but for most vampire-born, be they aristocrats or without a title, it only takes about ten days, a few weeks at worst. It's mainly determined by their motivation. For the Purebloods, it's more complicated...and less certain."
Yuuki got up and looked into his eyes, surprised.
"Why is that?"
"The purity of our nature, I suppose. If we are so powerful, that's because our lineage has never been mixed with human or lesser vampires. From it also comes our weaknesses: while we have a strong fortitude, our primal instincts are incredibly strong as well, and we are more inclined to the madness and violence brought by human blood. To renounce to our primal source of food is far more unbearable for us than for a lesser vampire, for whom such a concession is much easier."
He looked enigmatically at his young lover.
"The case of Purebloods is unpredictable… After the withdrawal, with training and an adequate number of Blood Tablets, our mental strength makes us more indifferent to human blood than anyone else. But if one day, we fall back to our instincts, what we become is..."
He left his sentence hanging, as if looking for the appropriate expression. Despite herself, Yuuki remembered the state of mind she had wandered into during the past few weeks. It seemed to her as though this torture, at the end, had been lived by someone else: she only had blurred memories, a sensation of a burning thirst, more imperious and harrowing than ever. What wouldn't have she done then... just to soothe it?
"Nothing can stop us," Kaname finally whispered.
Yuuki shuddered. She guessed that he knew what he was talking about. Back at the Academy, she only saw Kaname furious once, and he still had been a model of discipline and strictness. Only his eyes had betrayed how furious he was. She couldn't imagine what it would be if he lost all control in front of defenceless humans or aristocrat vampires...
And maybe even she, without pretence, was able to inspire such terror...
Deep in thought, she turned her eyes away for several minutes. Kaname watched her in silence, studying her frail shoulders, her slender waist brushed by the shining wave of her hair, a warm and brown veil on her marble skin. Then he sat up and ran his hand along her pearly neck, savouring in doing so the silkiness of her hair. Gently, he embraced her and whispered in her ear, making her shiver.
"What are you thinking about?"
She took a deep breath, then slowly pulled away from his embrace and faced him. She just made a crucial decision.
"I have to try again. I want to be as strong as you. I want to be able to stay alone for months, without you or your blood to feed me."
Even if he probably expected something like this, her determination seemed to surprise him.
"You must really want to stay away from me," he whispered, half in earnest, half in jest.
She had a more hesitant smile.
"Of course not. But abstaining from blood is a principle you so earnestly follow. I want to do it like you...and..."
Her mahogany gaze became elusive.
"I...even if it's probably the best thing that ever happened to me, I don't like being so...dependant on your presence."
The hand running gently in her hair stopped. Kaname recoiled, barely perceptible but she felt it easily. She carried on:
"I'm not as naive as I used to be. I know what we left behind us. Between the Senate, which is but a shadow of itself, and the Academy being half-destroyed...If we left, it was to protect me, Brother. My apparition threw everyone off-balance, and I was such an easy target. But I also know that I can't hide forever. You, you have a life, a role in this world… "
"Yuuki", whispered Kaname, "I have but one life, one role. And I've decided that they pertain only to you."
She barely stopped herself from grinning and put a finger on his lips to silence him.
"One year is more than enough," she carried on, more serious. "We can't act as if our past didn't exist. I know you kept some contacts with our relations. You had a life before I became a Pureblood. You have to get it back..."
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...because I want to be part of it...
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The world turned upside down. Viciously, pain pierced her.
She felt herself falling back. Reaching out, she tried to hold onto the man she loved, but her fingers closed on air. The dream was falling apart.
"It won't be easy..."
Never ending echoes. She heard herself asking for the return of her torture, of her own free will. Kaname's answer was lost in the void.
Her breath was quickening, wheezing. Her own blood was rumbling in her veins.
"I know it...but I want to be able to do it."
Under the strain of the implacable pain, her heart was out of control. Her skull was about to explode.
"Trust me...I can do it."
The Beast, lost in its frantic quest for freedom, opened its maw in a victorious growl. There!
"If you love me, agree to help me..."
And when she lost all control, Yuuki screamed in terror.
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" EEEEEEEYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"
The maid let go of the bed-warmer; it almost spilled its embers on the corridor's beautiful carpet. Sudden and piercing, almost animal in nature, the scream had scared her out of her mind. Frozen, she stared at the door.
A servant ran from the other side of the floor, alarmed too by the scream. After a quick glance at his unharmed colleague, he followed her terrified gaze and went knocking on the door.
"Madam? Is everything alright?"
No answer, nor cry or the slightest sound. The man knocked harder, to no avail. The maid approached, nervous.
"What do we do? We call the Militia?"
The man hesitated. Automatically, he put his hand on the doorknob and, against all odds, it opened. It hadn't been locked. Alarmed, the man tried to enter.
"Madam?"
An invisible force, like a gust of wind, threw him back violently into the corridor, slamming the door. Inside the room, there was a terrible ruckus, a profusion of creaking and indistinct sounds, dominated by the howl of a furious storm. The wall shook in a muffled bang, like it had been struck by a heavy object hurled at high speed, and the maid recoiled in horror. Before her aghast eyes, a crack ran along the wall through the entire side of the corridor. Then a series of high-pitched sounds, like broken glass, and a heavy silence fell back.
The two servants looked at each other, then at the door, then each other again. Shaking, the man stood up and, hesitant, mechanically, carefully pushed the door open. A gust of icy wind welcomed them.
The table was knocked over, two of its legs torn off, the chairs broken just like the canopy bed, thrown and smashed against the wall. The drapes and carpets had been torn apart, the mirror was nothing but glimmering shatters on the cracked wooden floor.
And the damaged panels of the window, each of them burst into pieces, clacking in the wind, opened onto the dark of the night.
The room was empty.
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Treacherous, bloodlust swooped upon Zero when he least expected it. He tried desperately to contain it, to no avail. He had, unfortunately, no doubt about the now crimson colour of his irises.
Carefully, with fear in his chest, Zero tried to slip away without a sound when he crossed the Butcher's eyes. Without hesitation, the man reached for his gun.
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In Lisenthard's now deserted street, a woman was fleeing breathlessly. The few passers-by watched in a stupor the silhouette running like the wind, gorgeous and supernatural in every movement.
This vision didn't escape a small group of men who, after looking at each other, went after the stranger.
Sheathe or holster, they were all armed. On their black armband, a red maw was shining, pierced by a silver arrow.
.
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The compass needle stretched out, pointing somewhere beyond walls and obstacles, imperious and worried. Anxious, Zero was helplessly overwhelmed by the flow of countless violent feelings, all foreign to him. Anger, terror, sadness. Hate. Madness. Despair. And, the most absolute, the most animal of them all, and the most inexplicable.
"Murder."
Facing his own death, kneeling before his executioner, Zero was paralysed by one thought. A unique, terrifying thought.
Yuuki was in danger.
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"Madam? We should be arriving in about ten minutes."
The butler's polished voice faded away. Yori suddenly shuddered, and reluctantly took her eyes off the manuscript, which she could barely see in the darkness. She leaned back on the leather seat and took a deep breath, slowly coming back to reality like someone awakening from a deep, dream-filled slumber.
Surreptitiously, she wiped the tears in her eyes. She slid a finger on the limousine's tactile screen and activated the intercom.
"Very well, thank you," she heard herself whisper hoarsely.
She glanced toward the communication panel, still closed. The butler, out of respect, had contacted her through one of the speakers. She put away the notebook with a small sigh: while she knew what was going to happen next, she felt a strange remorse leaving them like this...
Outside, the artificial and ubiquitous city lights had gone, and night had fallen. The avenues, the buildings and the traffic lights had given way to a unique road of old tar, surrounded by darkened valleys and some lonely trees. In the pitch-black sky, a myriad of stars were shining.
After a few turns, the limousine slowed down and finally passed an old iron gate, before entering slowly a familiar gravel road. Yori saw the small country house, its windows still lit despite the lateness of the hour. All the drapes had been opened, and it could only mean one thing. Yori had a faint but peaceful smile.
"The Master came home from his meeting only a few minutes ago, Madam," the butler said in the speakers, as if to confirm her observation.
The vampire stopped the limousine a few meters away from the porch and killed the engine. Both surprised and relieved by the sudden silence, Yori gathered her belongings and quickly got out of the car, grinning at the man who politely opened her door.
"Thank you. Take your evening off, I insist. I'll ask my husband not to call you anymore for the night."
The man thanked her and bowed deeper still. She walked to the front door while cursing her high heels, inconvenient on the gravel, and reached the door with relief: it opened just at the right moment. Behind it, the housekeeper – a woman looking about fifty, a vampire herself – stepped aside humbly to let her come in, smiling warmly.
"Welcome home, Madam."
Yori greeted her in return. From the kitchen, a delicious and familiar smell welcomed her. Aidou's favourite dish had probably been stewing for several hours.
"Is he upstairs?"
"Yes, Madam. The Master had to take a call in his study. I would suggest you go freshen up a bit, unless you'd prefer to eat right away?"
Despite the hunger suddenly taking hold of her, Yori shook her head.
"No, I'll wait for him. You're right, I'm going to change."
The old woman bowed again and disappeared in the kitchen. When she was out of sight, Yori left her dignity behind and took off her heels, enjoying the softness of the carpet on her aching feet. She went upstairs, comforted by its muffled silence.
As always in this country house, the place smelled of fresh air and old varnished wood. She smiled for herself; in other circumstances, her husband probably would have settled in a greater domain, closer to the city, and required an army of servants, as was the custom in his family of high lineage. But this small property – a former farm – had been Yori's first investment. She fell under the charm of its rustic simplicity, and its quiet surroundings. She wrote most of her books there these past few years, and as time passed, they finally settled there for good…
When she emerged of her wandering thoughts, Yori noticed that she spontaneously walked toward her own study. At this moment, her phone beeped discreetly, announcing a message. She automatically read it, and froze in the middle of the corridor, frowning in the darkness.
"Welcome home, Mrs Aidou. Did your return trip go well?"
She looked around, expecting to see its author appear at the turn of a corridor, grinning, but to no avail. She shrugged, then played along and quickly typed on her phone.
"Far quieter than the outward trip, thanks to you. I'm grateful."
"Anything for you, dearest."
She kept herself from smiling and shook her head. Once, Aidou used to call her "Miss": it wasn't out of politeness but to be distant, or even contemptuous toward the indifferent-looking young woman she played before. As years went by, the scornful tone had sweetened to become mischievous, then charming. Still today, he used this formal language in their written messages. Yori could almost see, behind these words, purposefully hackneyed, his sly smile soothed by a tender look.
Her heart pounding despite herself, Yori saw one of the closed doors at the end of the corridor, from under which a small ray of light filtered. Aidou's study. She approached without a sound and, pricking her ears, she heard his voice, talking in a calm and professional tone, though muffled by the heavy wooden door. She quickly wrote another message.
"You're on the phone?"
Aidou's voice stopped, replaced by others, barely audible and more metallic-sounding as if coming from a speaker. Still, the answer was swift.
"Video conference with overseas colleagues. As boring as can be. But those humans are so busy arguing over trifles that they don't even pay attention to what I'm doing."
She chuckled in silence. For having seen him in action, she knew he was perfectly capable of holding a conversation while answering emails on his PDA, stealthily and without having to look at the screen for more than a split second from time to time.
"It doesn't sound very serious to me, Mister Aidou," she whispered.
To her surprise, another message answered her. Probably thanks to the vampire's exceptional senses, he could hear her whisper even across the heavy wood of the door.
"In my defence, Mrs. Aidou, I'm back from a long and exhausting trip overseas, and I have much better things to do than listening to these old fogeys. Greeting my young bride, for instance."
She shook her head, amused but heavy-hearted. She realized that she had naively hoped to see him immediately upon her return. But after all, night was only beginning for the vampires and, as the male son and heir of one of the most influential Night World family, he didn't have the time for idleness.
Suddenly, all the fatigue of these last few days overcame her, and she sighed wearily.
"Do what you have to do, Hanabusa. You know where to find me."
She heard his familiar voice taking part in the conversation on the other side of the door, and, sure that their talk was over, she shrugged and went back to her own study. She didn't plan to write, but her den certainly needed some cleaning up...
"Wait."
Her phone stopped her once more.
"Yori."
The following sentences followed, unusually brief, as if sent in a short notice.
"'Hanabusa'. You don't often call me this."
She bit her lip: he was right. Because of a tenacious habit back from their school days at the Academy, she usually only called him Aidou. Except when the subject became important...or when she was worried.
"Trouble with your father?"
Until then eclipsed by the car trip, the memory of her interview with her father left her weakened, in dismay. She looked for an answer, unable to sum up this stormy situation in just a few words. Finally, she whispered, trusting his enhanced hearing:
"Yes...and my memories are playing tricks on me, too."
She knew he would understand the hidden meaning of her words. His answer was even quicker.
"Give me five minutes."
In the other room, his voice rose up, while he obviously tried to solve the debate that, until now, he had only been listening to.
"Don't walk away. Please."
She sighed, shoulders slumped. She leaned on the wall near the door, and slowly let herself slide to the floor, mindless of her suit. Her briefcase fell next to her, ajar, and the notebook appeared in the shadow of the corridor. As if called out by it, memories of another house appeared, far colder and more ominous.
Blood-splattered snow. Dozens of shots. Silver bullets piercing the icy air.
She frowned and closed her eyes, shook her head, but the memory remained, like the nagging buzz of an insect near her ear, like a thorn out of reach in her beating heart. She chose to focus on Aidou's indistinct words, his familiar voice raising, serene, on the other side of the door. He knew about the strange gift she suffered from every day. He even saw the consequences, seven years ago... maybe this was what brought them together, at first: this distant past, inherited from their common friends.
He who only heard about their misfortunes, and she who lived them…
After a few seconds, the memory faded away, though still heavy on her senses and her conscience. She smiled wanly, and folded her legs against her chest, resting her head between her arms.
This accursed stay in Lisenthard had turned everything upside down for Yuuki, for Zero. This nightmarish night… yet she would have to write it. Where to start, by the way?
But not tonight. Not when she could finally spend some time with Aidou.
Not now...
A few minutes later, when the study door finally opened, an exhausted Yori had already fallen into a deep slumber, filled with memories and dreams.
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Abysmally
To be Continued
Some cute Aidori to make up for the mean cliffhanger? :) Next chapter will be even more intense, we can't wait for you to read it!
Addendum: I see in the stats that a lot of people read this fic in one go...don't be shy guys! Tell us what you thought of it, Elenthya and I are always delighted to read reviews!