His name was James Barnes. It was the first thing he told her when she received him, battered and bruised and within an inch of his life. Name, rank, service number, that's all he said, over and over again. She reminded him at one time that he was also supposed to tell her his date of birth - not that he was in service anymore. It mattered little - name, rank, service number. The monotony of his voice was almost soothing. Persistent and stubborn, it would take some time and minimal effort on her part before she broke him. Good. It had been a while since Natasha Romanoff took on any pet project, and she found herself looking forward to breaking him in. Men like that were her favorite - it was the sweetest sound when she finally got them to scream.
Sweat trickled down his bare chest, his breaths rugged and erratic. He tugged at his cuffs, a moan leaving him around the cloth shoved into his mouth. She licked her lips at the display of fight he put on especially for her and she rewarded him with another stroke of his cock. In the early nights he resisted, cursed and spat and fought and she drank his struggle in his blood, delicious and hot. Now he looked away but spread his legs farther apart, hips bucking as he craved more of her touch. She smiled down warmly, slender, chilly fingers running over his erection, proof he was learning. He was beginning to enjoy it and as time went on she could taste less shame on him. A pity, really, as it was a delicious spice, but so were humility and obedience. How sweet he would taste once she brought him there, but in education as well as espionage and assassination the Black Widow was a patient mistress. She could wait, and in the meanwhile enjoyed his pleading growls. She leaned forward and pressed her face against his neck, inhaling deeply the musky scent and finding the aroma to be quite pleasing, as well as appetizing. She gripped his cock tightly and he arched under her. She dragged her tongue over his skin, collecting the salty droplets of sweat before pushing herself up. He squinted his eyes at her, the movement making him tense but she squeezed again and he moaned against his gag. She rolled her head before slumping her shoulders, letting the thin robe she wore fall over her arms, leaving her bare. The sight made him go even harder in her hand and she smirked before letting go, replacing her fingers' caress with the rubbery feel of a condom. She disliked the mess that was soon to follow.
She pushed herself up before descending over him, gently guiding his dick inside her. She let an appreciative hum escape at how well he filled her, and she spared him a fond smile at the almost pained look of pleasure on his face. She raked her fingers down his chest, well-kempt nails leaving pale marks over his skin and then digging into it while she began moving up and down over him. He tilted his head aside, flushed cheek pressing against the pillow. She rode him in swift motions, her hair bouncing around her head and shoulders every time. A chuckle eventually left her when he moved with her, doing his best to meet her on every descent. She was ultimately happy she didn't tie his legs. She was quite pleased with this one, she noted and licked her lips when he tugged at the cuffs holding his hands to the bedposts. In response to his restlessness she cupped her breasts, fingers kneading the flesh while staring right into his eyes. The next thrust came short of being painful and she giggled gleefully. This was good, yes, she thought and pushed down on him demandingly. They fell into a rhythm, each demanding more even when the outcome was already known. Natasha was enjoying the charade but James, oh, James was at his wits' end and his body has had enough. He came, whole body tensing and head thrown back. A joyed sound left Natasha and she bore her fangs, hands tightly gripping his shoulders as she dove forward towards his neck. This time she didn't settle for an outside taste, not when his blood called out to her with every beat of his heart. She sank her fangs into the flesh, the warm substance spilling into her mouth. She didn't care too much about the sounds he made when she trapped him in that state of bliss and instead enjoyed the taste for as long as she could.
Fate would have it it was not for long. A certain presence came too close, making it hard for Natasha to ignore further. She swallowed heavily before pulling away.

"Always when I'm eating." She complained for show while her eyes followed the blood that continued trickling over James's neck. She licked the wound closed and cleaned his neck before getting off him unceremoniously. Bothering barely with her robe which she left open, Natasha left James there to recover while she greeted this uncalled guest.

it's not that Natasha was surprised to find Kate Bishop at her door, she knew the girl was coming since she was half a town away. No, at the sight of the girl Natasha was torn between amusement and exasperation.
"I want to say 'look at what the cat dragged in'... but in this case the cat dragged herself in, eh, Koshka?" The elder kindred chuckled and stepped back, leaving the door open. Kate followed and closed the door behind her.

"I love what you did with the place." She purred as she cast an unseeing glance around the room. Natasha chuckled from her place in the kitchen.

"Not much has changed since you were here last time... or are you perhaps referring to how I cleaned the blood from the carpets?"

"It wasn't that bad, was it?"

"Said the person who didn't care enough to clean up after herself."

It really hadn't been that bad.
Several weeks prior, Kate's coterie was tasked with dealing with a cell of hunters. They wounded one and killed another, or so they let his partner believe. Kate didn't let James 'Bucky' Barnes die that night. Instead, she brought him as an offering to the one other person in the world Kate's sire actually trusted. And if Clint Barton trusted Natasha Romanoff, Kate wanted to at least be on her good side.

"How do you find my present? I hope it's to your liking?"

Natasha hummed and pulled two wine glasses out of the cabinet before pulling a glass bottle out of the fridge.
"I was enjoying myself, but then a kitten showed up at my doorsteps, meowing."

Kate smirked. "I'll be sure to call first, next time."

"Cute, Koshka. Cute." Natasha poured the thick red liquid into the glasses and slid one across the counter towards Kate. The younger vampire accepted the offering and sniffed at it before gasping.

"This smells incredible!"

"A nun who kept to her vows right up to... this harvest. Drink up, it's as pure as they come."

Kate took her time consuming the drink and let out an appreciative moan when she was done.
"Delicious."

Natasha smiled. "I like those who appreciate a fine drink."

"I assure you, this isn't anything I picked up from Clint."

"Ha! That's for certain!" The redhead laughed, head tilted back. She then poured herself another drink. Kate humbly accepted the refill but asked only for half a glass.

"Tell me, Koshka." Natasha asked then, leaning over the counter and rolling the blood in her glass. "To what do I owe the enjoyable company? I don't believe this is a social visit, or you simply checking how I liked your offering...

"You do enjoy it though, right?" Kate asked again, hoping for a more direct answer this time. Natasha seemed amused, her usual reaction to most of Kate's actions.

"You show up at my door with a bloodied pile of a man. What's not to like?"

Kate nodded and finished her drink before setting the glass down. "In that case..."

"Ah, there we go." The redhead snickered. Kate offered a small smile before assuming a more business-like demeanor.

"I was asked to dig up some info that's hard to come by. I figured if there's something everyone else jumps and runs at the sound of, certain people will make it their business to know everything there is to know about it."

"Well, you're not wrong." Natasha snickered and tugged at her robe to keep it from falling off her shoulders. She left it otherwise open. "But tell me something, why me? Whatever happened to that sire of yours? Last I heard, you were still on good terms...?"

Kate shrugged, seeming unfazed by the question. "He's busy with something again and didn't think to invite me. His loss. As it stands, you're still in town so I figured I might as well cash in some of your debt."

"Debt? Ah, yes, for the kindness you've imposed on me. Do you charge for all your gifts?"

"You could have said 'no'..."

"I could've." Natasha confirmed with an amused smirk. "You're wise to hold it against me. No one ever gives anything for free, why should you?"

"I had excellent teachers."

"Flattery doesn't become you." The elder concluded and walked towards the window to open it. Kate frowned as she had to struggle to hear the woman's footsteps, one reason of many why being next to Natasha was always so inspiring and terrifying. Even to someone with Kate's heightened senses, Natasha's presence was nigh-impossible to detect.

"Go on, then. I'm listening. As to whether or not I'll help, however... time will tell."

Despite that promise, Kate stalled and seemed distracted, as though concentrating on something far away.

"Is something on your mind?"

"Ah-" Kate paused again before seeming sheepish. "I was just wondering if this was a safe enough location-"

Though she couldn't quite see it, Kate could feel Natasha's aura clearly, and it felt red. Natasha wasn't only angry, but she let it show, the color bursting out of her usual light-blue - an impregnable fortress of calmness, blanketing any other emotion. Now, however? She was mad, and she wanted Kate to know.

"What you just did, Koshka, is insult your host."

Kate would've gasped had the act held any merit to it. Instead, she bowed her head, shoulders hunched. "I'm sorry, I really am... I'm not used to such capable company..."

Natasha drew out the tense moment but finally she let herself be pacified. "You're not lying, which makes me concerned for the company you keep."
Opposed to Kate, Natasha did bother with a sigh, the gesture offering an audible context switch in the conversation and mood. It was followed by Natasha spreading her arms and motioning around her.

"You are in my home, Kate, my Haven. The only thing you need worry about here... is me."

Kate nodded and bowed again before shrugging slightly. "It's a good thing you're fond of a guy who's fond of me, huh?"

"Your sire is not the only one fond of you, Koshka." Natasha said softly and ran the back of her fingers down Kate's cheek. The slight changes in the air caused by the movement offered ample warning and so Kate didn't flinch at the sudden touch. Natasha then withdrew her hand, and gave Kate a rather pointed look despite the gesture being wasted on the blind archer. "And that is the good thing, for Clint's grace means noticeably less outside his Haven. You'd do well to remember that."

"I will." Kate promised, and for the time being it seemed to be enough. Satisfied, Natasha went to the window again, this time to close it.

"Still, you seem to have a good reason to worry. In that case..." She held her hand out to Kate, snapping her fingers once to draw the other's attention. The tone of her voice as she spoke next held a touch of excitement to it. "Shall we take it outside?"

Kate seemed reluctant. "I'm not that good with that skill..."

"A pity. Make sure you hone it. For now, simply follow my lead."

Kate nodded and took Natasha's hand. As soon as they touched Kate could feel it, a presence in her head and so many whispers - Natasha's thoughts, but she couldn't make out a single one, at least not until Natasha wanted her to.

"There - privacy." Kate heard clearly in her mind. "Now, what were you so afraid of saying out loud?"

Kate braced herself before tilting her head up to seem as though she was looking at Natasha.
"I need information about the Maximoff family."

She felt it - a waver, and an increase in volume of the thoughts she couldn't decipher. Surprise, was it? That, and something else, a bit darker. Kate frowned. The name was enough to put Natasha on edge. She still responded with a laugh when finally she replied.

"I knew I'd run into that name here, but not so soon, and hardly from you, Koshka. Yes, I'm familiar with that clan, enough to know I have every right, if not a duty... to charge extra."

Kate winced. Natasha continued before the other's thoughts of protest properly materialized.

"You ask for information about one of the oldest, strongest Kindred in the city. It is a legend as old as I am. Even you must agree it's worth more than a single boy-toy, as lovely as he might be."

The younger assassin carefully considered her options. This was turning out to be much more than she bargained for, and honestly her debt to Teddy was one she could live with for several nights more - he wasn't the kind to hound her about it, unlike Nate and Eli. The problem was, however, that Kate didn't necessarily make the best decisions, and what worse - she was officially curious.

"Name your price."

Natasha's smirk was predatory more than it was pleased. "I'll find uses for you, worry not. But first, I think I'll have you and your boys do something. Consider it an act of goodwill in the hopes of a mutually beneficial partnership."

"Goodwill...? Oh!"
An image flashed through Kate's mind of a tall, built man with his blond hair in an old fashioned style and blue eyes piercing. His left arm had an odd metallic glint to it and Kate recognized him immediately, even though she'd never actually seen him. She wished she didn't.

"Steve Rogers. 'The Captain'."

"Correct." Natasha confirmed. "After you scared him off, he replaced the arm you injured and called in reinforcements. You really should've killed him, it was such a beginner's mistake, I don't understand why that Gangrel let him get out of it alive..."

Kate swallowed her pride, even if the one accused was Teddy. It was still her pack that messed up. "What do you want me to do with him?"

"It was your blunder to begin with. I'm letting you know so you can take the initiative before you're ordered to take care of them, or worse - the task is given to someone else."

"And what's in it for you?" Kate asked. "All you're doing is increasing my debt. Unless-"

"Unless you bring him to me, alive."

Kate snickered. "That's more like it. But it's a future thing and I need the intel now."

"You give me your word. If you succeed, your debt is reduced. If you fail-"

"I still owe you."

"And I get a laugh out of it at your expense. Sounds like not too bad of a bargain for me."

"One thing bothers me still..." Kate tilted her head. "What's he to you? I don't think you're building a collection..."

Natasha chuckled and licked her lips. "You know what curiosity did to the cat, Koshka."

Kate shrugged. "It was worth a try. Alright - you have yourself a deal. I'll call my boys once we're done here."

"In that case... let's get started."

Ever since their latest coupling and feeding session, Teddy made sure to visit Billy as often as he could, even if from a distance so as to not be tempted to drink from him again. He didn't go out of his way to hide his presence, however, and the feeling of being watched, normally something to cause anxiety and uneasiness, offered Billy an uncanny amount of comfort.
That night in particular Teddy couldn't make it over. He sounded apologetic in the note he had an owl deliver to Billy's window. Billy found the awkward attempt at an apology endearing even if it did leave him feeling a bit lonely, but he was, above all, grateful for the evening apart. He had business to take care of, and he doubted he could keep from telling Teddy the truth behind it. Trying to fight the feeling he was betraying Teddy's trust, he put on his jacket and left his house. Not too long later, Billy found himself making his way through a series of back streets and alleys. His jacket was closed up to his chin and he buried his hands in his pockets. In one fist he clenched his inhaler, all the while praying he wouldn't need it until he reached his destination - not that it would do him any good. The thing had lost its effectiveness over time, and besides - it was empty.
He coughed into his fist as he turned a corner, and then came to a stop. A man came flying through the air, thrown into a pile of boxes and crates. Towering over him and bathing in the light that came out of the door behind him was another man, tall and muscular despite his lithe figure. Billy could make out his mohawk and the tattoos running down his arms, as well as the feral grin splattered on his face.

"Yeah, get up again, it'll be a pleasure to put you back where you belong."

The thrown man groaned but stayed right where he was, a wise decision if one was to ask their spectator.
Billy knew very little about the guy clicking his tongue at the loss of violent entertainment, to the point he needed just one hand to count the facts he did know. One - his name was Daken. Two, he was a waiter at his dad's bar, aforementioned establishment being the one he just stepped out of. And three - he was trouble. That last one was why when Daken turned to look at him, Billy froze.

"Oh, it's you... wait, you're still alive?! Damn, I owe Laura a tenner." Daken huffed but spared Billy little more attention before heading back into the bar. Billy stalled, taking a moment to study the flickering neon sign announcing the establishment's name. Wolverine's Den... it wasn't the first time he'd been there, but somehow coming back made him feel uneasy. He inhaled, exhaled, and only then followed.
The place was as Billy remembered it, including most of the patrons. Simple in design and limiting the offered entertainment to the old, worn-out juke-box in the corner, it claimed to carry only the finest beers and have none of that new-age shit. The walls weren't packed but decorations weren't quite scarce, and the lights weren't too dim so one could easily make out the pictures lining the walls. They were of the owner and his children, Daken and his sister, Laura, taken in different places around the world. Before, Billy actually bothered to look them all over but he never got a straight answer when he asked how old some of the photos were, or where they were taken. They seemed too old and authentic to have been tourist attractions, and besides, the guy wasn't the tourist-trap type either. All Billy got for his efforts was a laugh and a pat on the back that almost broke him.
Aforementioned master of the house was nowhere to be seen, but even that simple deduction took Billy far too long to reach. If he had been quicker, he wouldn't have stayed put for as long as he did.

"You know-" He heard Daken say and realized the guy had gotten far too close for comfort. He turned around and tried to pull away but his hand was already grabbed, the hold painful. Daken smirked at the look on Billy's face, just short of frightened and pained.
"It's been so long since you last came here, I'd forgotten how cute you were. We had a good time last time, didn't we?"

"I'm not here for you, Daken." Billy said but his voice was too shaky to carry any sort of authority of demand.

"That's what they all say, but I know better."
The sound made when Billy was pinned to the wall got some customers to look over but they lost interest soon and did nothing about it.
"You come here for info that doesn't exist, crappy beer, and the 'mood'..." He licked his lips, enjoying the way Billy struggled. "But you all want only one thing. C'mon, fight harder, you used to be feistier. Excite me-"

The disturbing demand was cut short when Billy's freedom was abruptly given back to him. He stood there, unsteady on his feet and panting, eyes wide as he watched the scene unfold. Daken was on his knees, a thick arm around his neck, belonging to the man who brought him down. There was ever only one man who could keep Daken in line, and it was the same one currently choking him into submission. His own father and boss, Logan.

"You know the rules, Daken. Hands. Off. The patrons!" He lifted Daken as though he weighed nothing and threw him over one of the vacant tables to the cheers of the various spectators. Billy looked from Daken who was fumbling to his feet, to Laura who continued serving as though nothing was taking place not three feet away from her, to Logan, who despite his short stature felt like he was taking up half the space in the room.
"You touch him again, you lose those hands. Now clean up your mess and get back to work."

Daken growled but then smirked at Billy. "Sure, I don't really want him anymore anyway... smells like death, even if he didn't have some other bastard's scent on him, the whore-"

"Daken!" Logan howled, his voice booming through the room. Daken looked at him with disdain before returning to his duties. A moment more passed before the usual bar-chatter resumed, at which point Logan picked up the boxes he was carrying in when the incident happened. He didn't let Billy out of his sight, though.

"Sorry 'bout that. I keep thinking he's getting better but maybe it's time for another warehouse shift."

"Won't he just get drunk in the back?" Billy asked, finally having found his voice again. Logan studied him briefly before snickering.

"True that. C'mon, I'll get you a drink, least I can do after that... also in celebration of you being alive. They had a bet going about that, you know."

"I've heard." Billy replied dryly while Logan stacked the crates behind the bar. He left them for the time being before taking his place. Billy finally sat down, facing him.

"What'll it be, kid? Your usual Jager?" The man's tone was pleasant, hospitable even. It made Billy all the more uneasy.

"I better not."

"Yeah, probably. Daken was right about that, you look ready to keel over." The man commented simply before turning to a usually not-bothered-with piece of equipment - the coffee machine. "Here, this oughtta keep you up for another minute or two, at least."

A mug filled to the bream and steaming was placed on the counter, and Billy reached for the container holding the bags of sugar.

"It has been a while since we last saw you. If you weren't dead, we were beginning to think you skipped town."

"The last thing I need is to have you come after me."

"Clever kid." Logan snorted. "But is he clever enough to pay his debt to me?"

Billy took a long sip from his coffee, unimpressed by the way Logan leaned over the counter, obviously in an attempt at intimidation. All Billy could think of was that he put in too much sugar.

"Do you really think this is a social visit?"

Logan leaned back with a satisfied smile, only to quirk a brow when Billy simply resumed drinking his coffee. Billy rolled his eyes.

"Can't I at least finish drinking your apology in peace?"

Logan growled but left Billy alone while he talked to some customers. Billy sighed in relief and didn't even mind the overdose of sugar he put into his coffee. It was hot and strong just the way he liked it. It managed to chase the chilly numbness away enough for Billy to actually show interest in what Logan was doing. He found the man by one of the booths and talking to the woman sitting there on her lonesome. She had wavy blond hair and wore dark clothes that made Billy wonder if she was in a gang, or at least a biker. At one point Logan motioned towards Billy over his shoulder and the woman looked over, making Billy stare back down at his drink. Were they talking about him? Why, who was that woman? Wait, could it be-?
Billy did ask Teddy for information, but he was a last resort. Before then Billy had tried other venues, Logan's information network included. It never paid off... but maybe, just maybe, his luck was changing?

"Are you done?" Laura's voice startled him. He had no idea when she went behind the bar but there she was, her green eyes burning holes into him. It took Billy a moment to remember what it was she was talking about.

"Ah, um... almost, not yet. Sorry."

She nodded, constantly keeping that detached look to her.
"I can get you a refill, if you want."

"But I'm not done yet-" Billy said, quite confused as he still had coffee in his mug. Things cleared up when Laura held her hand next to her face and pretended to squeeze something into her mouth. Suddenly the item in Billy's pocket became heavier, reminding him why he was there to begin with.
"...right." He muttered and reached into his coat's inside pocket to pull out a wad of bills. Some of it was cash Teddy insisted on giving him, but most of it was from Nate, payment for the magical services Billy provided them with. Laura seemed surprised at the sight but said nothing while Billy counted the money, both for his tab as well as the aforementioned refill. Laura then pocketed the money as well as the empty inhaler Billy gave her before turning to leave.

"Wait here, I'll talk to Forge."

Billy nodded and returned to his drink, having little else to do while he waited. This was actually why BIlly first found himself in Logan's bar. While the man's talent for information did have an impressive reputation, Billy was there for the rumors of an old Indian Shaman. Born of the Cheyenne tribe, Forge was said to be the most knowledgeable and skilled spell-caster in Manhattan, with specialties in creation-spells and healing. Billy'd had his doubts, but had nothing to lose and was well rewarded by the chance he took. It didn't offer a cure, but Forge's concoctions were the only thing that made the pain go away. That was more than Billy had hoped for. A part of him wondered if it would still work, though. His condition deteriorated so much since he first came there...

"Hey." Laura's return interrupted his inner monologue, snapping Billy back abruptly. She had a small paper bag in one hand and held the other up, palm upwards. "This costs extra."

Billy frowned. "I paid my debt in full-"

"It's not that." She interjected. "Forge said he's read the stars for you and knows you've gotten worse. It's a new, stronger mix."

"Expensive, too, then. Right. How much?"

"Two hundred."

Billy winced but paid just the same. He took the inhaler out of the bag and gave it a quick look before putting it to his lips. He'd paid for it, might as well give it a shot.
The effects were instantaneous and surprisingly potent. Billy breathed more easily and the constant pressure in his chest lessened. There was a brief stinging sensation in his throat but it passed before long, leaving Billy feeling genuinely thrilled. This might actually buy him some time!

"Howdy." The rough voice interrupted the moment, bursting Billy's small bubble of hope. He found Logan standing next to him.

"Ha, I see Laura took care of you. Hope you got some cash left, I might actually have a lead on that Maxi-whatever clan of yours."

Billy stared at Logan with eyes wide and lips parted. This was too good to be true, wasn't it? But so what? He was allowed some good news once in a while, wasn't he? Yeah, even him.
"I'm not paying in advance."

"You will if you don't want to be thrown out of here."

Billy looked at the woman Logan talked to earlier before reaching into his coat.
"Info might be bogus."

"Gimme a fifty and pay the rest later if it's worth anything."
Logan took the bill before slapping Billy's shoulder, leaving him feeling like he was hit by a truck. Free to pursue this potential lead, Billy tugged his jacket and stood up, noting idly how the world spun a bit more slowly around him when he did. That new mix really was working...
The woman seemed welcoming enough when Billy approached her though she regarded him with suspicion. He couldn't blame her, really - he must've had a similar air to him.

"Billy, I take it?" Her voice betraying nothing but something about it still made him feel at ease. He knew better than to fall for that and simply gave her a questioning look. Her smile widened and she nodded, legitimizing his suspicious concern.
"My name's Sharon. Logan said you might be interested in what I have to say, I reckon that's why he sent you over."

"I only pay after." Billy started. Sharon seemed quizzical for a moment but then nodded, having caught on.

"Fair enough. I have it on good authority you pay your debts, so I'm not worried."

Billy glanced at the bar where Logan was busy with one of his customers. "Sounds like someone's spreading rumors about me." He replied and took a seat opposite to her in the booth.

"Would you like a drink? My treat."

He shook his head. "Just your info."

She shrugged in mild resignation before taking a quick glance around the bar. She then pushed her drink aside and leaned forward over the table. "It's quite a family you're looking into. Not many people would know much about it."

"Not many people do." Billy retorted, seeming unimpressed. "What makes you so special?"

"Many things, William- it is short for-"

"Get on with it." He demanded, losing his patience. Sharon on her part took another sip from her drink.

"What say you, William, that we say I have an interest in a special branch of the occult that has to do with that family's demise, and leave it at that."

"That's very specific." Billy snickered and leaned back. "Let's hear it, then. What do you know about them?"

Sharon looked around again and kept quiet until Laura passed them on her way to the back room.
"The Maximoff family is an old family that dates back a millennia. They dabbled in all forms of magic, specifically witchcraft. Their witches and warlocks-"

"Warlock's a bad word." Billy pitched in, sounding almost offended. Sharon smiled fondly.

"All families have their rotten apples, Billy."

Having nothing to counter that with, he fell silent. She continued.

"Their witches were so powerful they inevitably drew the attention of unsavory factions-"

"Which led to their downfall some several hundred years ago, yeah, I know." Billy's irritation was showing clearly by then. "That much is the common knowledge, Sharon. If you want more of my time, not to mention my money-"

"Do you know why they fell, Billy? Who came after them?"

At the question, Billy fell silent and tense. People were always vague about that part of the story, and Billy found his curiosity piqued.
"I'm listening." He tried not to mind too much her triumphant air.

"You'd do well to listen, it's not as detached from the here and now as you might think."

"Enough with the cryptic talk already!" Billy snapped, but before he could say anything else Sharon leaned back, seeming a mix of smug and wary.

"Do you believe in vampires, Billy?"

The silence stretched. Billy watched her, trying to decipher her intent and more so how to respond. "If this is buildup for a Twilight gag-"

She laughed, loudly and honestly with a touch of bitterness, too. "Please. Vampires sprinkled with fairy dust for the ignorant masses. If the real deal was anything like that, my life would've been easier." The humor faded, leaving a chilly look in her eyes that made him gulp. "No, Billy, I'm talking about the monsters who can't walk in the light of day. Who burn at the smallest spark of honest faith. Blood-sucking parasites who feed on humans as humans do on livestock and poultry." She reached to scratch her neck. His eyes followed the motion which made his throat go dry.
"Those inhuman creatures have been here for thousands of years, playing with humanity from the shadows. And they were strong enough to take down one of the strongest magical clans in history."
This time she ran her finger down the side of her neck, the gesture slow and resembling a caress. He held his palm against his own neck, fingertips scratching at his nape. It wasn't a movement he was consciously aware of, but it was more than what Sharon's bargained for.
"...and now one of them's after you." She declared and leaned forward, hand slamming against the table and making Billy jump, hand still on his neck. "How many times, Billy?"

"How what-"

"How many times have they fed on you? Don't try to deny it, your body betrays you."

He practically threw his hand away before turning towards the rest of the bar. "This conversation is over-"

"Settle down, son." It wasn't Sharon whose words brought Billy to a stop. "The lady is simply worried about you."
The man blocking the exit from the booth and towering above the teen was massive, with well kempt blond hair, striking features, and a left hand that glistened even in the dim light of the bar- it wasn't his real one, Billy realized and in his growing panic his mind raced until he placed the familiar face. Ah, yes, it was dark and hectic that night too, Billy realized, eyes wide as he recognized the man. It was the one who chased Teddy the night they met. How did the coterie call him...?

"Captain Rogers!"

"How long has it been since you were called that, hm?" Sharon asked sweetly. Steve kept his scowl and sat down, making Billy pull away until his back met the wall. He looked over his shoulder and realized he had no way out.

"Billy, we only want to talk." Steve reassured; Billy huffed in return.

"I'm sure, is that why you're blocking the exit?"

"You're in danger." Steve sternly explained, the almost caring over-tone of his voice not doing a good enough job of covering his animosity, either towards Billy's acquaintances, or even Billy himself. "We're trying to save you."

"Or else?" Billy smiled bitterly. "You're not really leaving me much choice here."

"I've watched good men throw their lives away, and I'm not about to let you do the same."

For a moment Billy wanted to think Steve cared, only to snarl in contempt the next moment.
"Vampires aren't what's going to kill me, Captain."

"No, your illness is." Sharon interjected, making Billy stare at her in shock.

"How-"

"Forge told us about you. He seems to have taken a liking to you. He offered some information if we promised to help."

"We know you're still in touch with the... wolf from that night." Steve added, stopping Billy from letting out what was to be a bitter laugh. "He's dangerous, Billy. To you, and those around you."

The witch was left on edge by that statement. No, it wasn't even that, he was angry. He could feel his blood boiling at the thought these... these thugs were after Teddy- how dare they, a small voice rasped in his mind, followed by the need to protect Teddy however he could. And to do that he had to get out of there, but with Steve blocking his way... He looked around the room and when he looked over Steve's shoulder he saw Logan, at the bar, wiping glasses and serving drinks like usual- and looking right at him. Their eyes met, and something sank inside Billy when Logan looked away. He knew. Of course he knew, he sent Billy over to Sharon- he sold him out.

"Billy." Sharon drew his attention, voice firm despite the diplomatic air she tried to utilize, though her impatience was showing at this point. He was cornered, in enemy territory, and was running out of time. Billy did one of the few things he could do - he laughed.

"Let- let me get this straight-" He leaned back against the wall, elbow on the table and one foot on the bench, making Steve pull away even if a bit. "This... wolf you claim I saw 'that night'-" He formed quotation marks with his fingers. "Is... what, a vampire that's been feeding off of me and you guys- what, are you hunting it down? Oh, and if I cooperate, you're going to help me? No, save me, when no one I've met in my life has been able to do so?!" His voice kept rising as the bitterness and pent up frustrations proved too much for him to keep in check anymore. He didn't even try to stop it, finding it felt good to let go. "Not any doctor I've met, not my parents, not even the old and wise and amazing Shaman in the basement! But you-!" He motioned at them both with his hands. "You can?!"

"We can, and we will!" Steve insisted and grabbed Billy's shoulder, squeezing it tightly. Billy found himself for a moment wavering, wanting to believe the alluring promise, impossible as it might be, only then Sharon spoke again and made him reach his final decision.

"We will certainly try."

At that last word Billy deflated visibly. He stared at Sharon, then at Steve before grabbing the man's wrist and pulling his hand off. "Right... ok, I see how it is. Alright, you win. I'll play it your way."

The two hunters exchanged looks before returning to look at Billy.
"Really."

"Really!" Billy replied before looking Steve in the eye, his own normally brown ones emitting a light blue glow.
"The hard way."

Logan simultaneously noticed all electrical devices blowing up as well as Steve's form hurling at him in great speed from the other side of the room. When the ensuing commotion settled down, patrons were no longer fighting and the bar was only half destroyed, Sharon found Steve outside, sporting some bruises.

"Are you alright?" She asked, though most of her attention was invested in the small device she pulled out of her pocket.

"I'll live," Came the reply with Steve wiping some blood from his cheek. "Did we get him?" He glanced at the small device, a GPS unit that showed not their location but elsewhere, the dot moving rapidly away from them.

"We got him. And if he's the kind of person you think he is, his wolven friend, too."

"Let's go, then. He's on the move, so we should follow."

"Agreed." She replied simply and mounted his bike behind him before he sped away.