Lucian stalked down a dark, damp concrete corridor with fire in his eyes.
Budapest!
The knowledge filled him with unbridled glory, so much so that he had forgotten the throbbing pain that pulsed steadily in his back from the 4 silver bullets lodged in his skin. He could have cried out with delight- at last the final descendant of Corvinus had been located! This long wait in the US had not been in vain, at long last the location of Michael Corvin had been established and Lucian was beside himself with joy.
He ignored the sensation of his own drying blood sticking his wounds to the fabric of his clothing and climb nimbly up a tunnel to find an opening that led to a street level sewer grate. He wanted to look up at the sky. His many years as a slave to the pale-ones had not been forgotten, rather it had made him care little about the conditions that he and his company currently dwelled in. The sewers were discreet, practical and far away from prying eyes, an ideal hide out in all intense and purposes. But, he had an aversion to the obtrusive metal bars that surrounded each exit and blocked out the light. It seemed to him that they were locking him in from the outside world, a cage of his own choosing and he resented this above all. Reaching the grate he forced his gaze past the oppressive metal bars and into the starless sky above. The blue black was dwindling and the horizon was beginning to bleed an orange huge.
Sunrise.
He smiled. There was but one place in the city he wanted to be in that moment. His elevated mood made him care little for who or what may have witnessed his next action as he prized apart the hateful metal bars and pushed himself onto street level.
He walked with purpose towards the sun, towards the warmth, towards Catherine.
Catherine was awoken by the sunlight streaming into her apartment through the still uncovered window. She felt comforted by its warming glow, but its brightness stung her eyes as she tried to sit up and look about her. She ran a hand through her hair as she tried to focus on the clock at her bedside.
"Awake at last, sleeping beauty." A voice spoke dryly from near the apartment's entrance.
Her heart sang as she heard that voice. Lucian, it was him, he had returned to her. She jumped out of bed and rushed to him, pulling him into a tight embrace. Lucian, though happy, had hissed and tensed at the pain of her embrace. His bullet wounds were burning now as the silver poisoning leaked slowly into his flesh and the slightest movement carried with it an agonising pain. Catherine pulled back almost instantly at the recognition of his physical pain and moved to look at him more closely.
His eyes were alive, dancing, full of fire, yet he looked in all other ways exhausted. His clothes were torn in places and smeared with dark stains, as though he had fallen and slid across the ground…
"Or was dragged." She thought
His face, although still beautiful and other-worldly, now bore faint red scratches across his left cheek and down one side of his neck. He smelt of sweat and earth and something else… something almost metallic. Catherine look down at her palms and saw that they were bloody. With a gasp she turned him around to inspect his back, he obediently turned without resistance, and she saw 4 bloodied holes in his clothing. She stretched her finger through the fabric and towards his skin and touched one angry wound as gently as she could. He stiffened in response but stayed silent, her fingertip was now covered in a fresh coating of his crimson blood as it gurgled unstopped out of his wounded back. She turned back to look at him with a shocked look in her eyes.
"What?" She whispered, not knowing what to ask. "Who?"
He simply shook his head.
No, he would not tell her.
Hurt slightly by his refusal she looked away nodding her own head in comprehension.
Yes, she understood, he would tell her nothing.
Biting back the disappointment she took his hand and led him into the bathroom.
"Time to clean those wounds." She whispered.