Blaine's knuckles gripped the peeling steering wheel with force. His fingernails had long gone white from his barely constrained rage. "He touched you?" His words were sharp, slicing through his clenched teeth. The muscles of his jaw flexed in warning. Kurt would normally find the act arousing. But Blaine was driving and the anger he felt seemed to continue to rise. The elevation of sheer vitriol paced itself with the increasing ticks on the speedometer. Kurt watched, his sea-stained eyes cautiously wary. Blaine was going too fast. The paler man desperately wanted to conjure the right words that would magically calm Blaine down.

They didn't come.

Instead, Kurt tentatively laced his fingers through Blaine's stray hand, interlocking their palms together. He hoped the more tangible solution would be a better approach. It was mildly successful. Blaine's jaw loosened, his breath a bit less ragged. His shoulders were still bound up in stress, as if he were ready to pounce on anyone at any moment's notice. Kurt licked his lips as he tried to figure out how to talk Blaine down off the edge of rage. He decided to keep it simple.

"Hey, can we pull over? I'll give you a play by play of what happened. As long as you stop driving like an amateur NASCAR driver." He ran his thumb over Blaine's knuckles. Blaine quickly glanced at Kurt, then back at the speedometer, his eyes widening in surprised. The dark-haired man eased on the breaks and turned the wheel to pull over on the side of the barren road. The car stalled for a moment, the engine dying after Blaine turned the key.

"Sorry for going so fast...I didn't realize it."

"It's cool. Nobody died...yet." Kurt laughed, attempting to spark a morbid banter. Blaine didn't. The lycan wasn't particularly pleased with the witch's cavalier sense of humor toward other creatures and death. There were beings out there that were particularly and intently dangerous. Ones that would stop at nothing to secure Kurt once they found out the extent of his powers. The pale man was basked in a witch's gleam and the aura had sprung to life seemingly overnight. His pale skin practically glowed with magic; an indication that his once latent powers were beginning to come into fruition. He needed to get Kurt to Santana. And fast. She was the only creature he was at liberty to trust with the newly minted witch.

"You shouldn't joke like that. Your life is in danger, Kurt. Real danger. Adam wasn't just some run of the mill blood sucker. He was old. And powerful too." Kurt snorted, rolling his eyes. He was annoyed at the lack of faith the raven-haired man had in him.

"If he was so powerful...he sure didn't show it. The aneurysm I gave him stopped his Harvey Weinstein wannabe ass dead in his tracks." Kurt found a sudden interest in inspecting his cuticles. He didn't appreciate Blaine telling him how to cope. It wasn't everyday one found out that they were a witch, let alone some bearer of some half-baked prophecy. He thought he was doing remarkably well at handling this entire situation thus far. He hadn't gone insane or downward spiraled into self-destruction. Kurt considered that to be progress.

Blaine's triangular brows knitted together. "Aneurysm? Please tell me you mean that figuratively and not literally." Kurt's averted gaze gave Blaine the unwanted answer to his question. "Jesus, Kurt. You're supposed to be laying low, not flinging magic around like free candy." Kurt huffed. Blaine was being absurd. What was he supposed to do? Let the British vampire trample over him? Make him feel like some insignificant and incompetent creature? Not while Kurt was alive and still breathing. His late father's words had wrung clear and true between those stacks of books in the library; no one pushes the Hummel's around.

"That guy is a creep. Scratch that. That vampire was a creep. Thanks for telling me about those by the way. Here I was thinking there was just witches and lycans." Kurt glowered as he crossed his arms across his lean chest. He looked like a spoilt child who wasn't used to not getting his way. Blaine found it cute even in this moment of annoyance and naivety. "Besides, the voices said I needed to show him that I was not someone he could push around. He was already aware of my powers. He said he could smell it." Blaine's mouth twitched, his nostrils flaring. Kurt swore he could almost see the lycan's nails start to elongate, just beginning to file into his lycan form's claws.

"He smelled you?" His voice was pained like Adam had somehow violated Kurt in some obscene and ghastly way. Besides invading his personal space, of course. The lycan pulled the witch closer, melding their bodies together. Blaine nuzzled his nose behind Kurt's ear, their necks brushing against each other. Kurt wasn't complaining but was utterly confused at the sudden and intense body contact. It was startlingly similar to the dream he had with Blaine's lycan form not too long ago.

"Uh, Blaine? Is there...a reason you're practically on top of me?" Blaine looked into Kurt's eyes, a sly smile gracing his face. A blush had eclipsed the apples of his olive cheeks.

"Yes, actually. I'm hiding your scent with my mine. I don't want Adam or any other lowlife creature following you." Don't be fooled, Kurt. He's marking you as his. As he should. The wolf protects the ones he marks. The shadow's voice left as quickly as it came. It left Kurt with a notable absence in the confines of his mind. "It also warns others that you're under my protection." Blaine's eyes flickered toward Kurt's lips, briefly wondering what they felt and tasted like. "And voices?" Kurt hoped he forgot about that about that part. They still baffled Kurt. He didn't know how to explain it to himself let alone to another person. Blaine would likely think he was a nutcase.

"I've been hearing little whispers every now and then. They seem to come alive whenever magic is involved." Kurt paused, not knowing what to say. The truth was that Kurt didn't really know anything about them. "It's almost like they're giving me tutorials, like they're my very own Magic for Dummies."

"I must have missed that one. Do they have it at Barnes and Noble?" The sound of their mutual laughter filled the cabin of the idle truck. Kurt loved moments such as these. He had just confessed to hearing voices and here Blaine was cracking jokes like nothing was strange about it. "You'll have to ask Santana about them. She'll have answers to any of your magic related questions." Blaine's hands ghosted over Kurt's thigh before deciding against it. He turned the key in the ignition instead and pulled back into the empty street.

They let a pregnant pause fill the truck, a comfortable silence settling between the two of them. Kurt turn his head to take in the scenery that whirled past him from his vantage point of the fast-moving vehicle. Trees seemed to blur together in one continuous line, their branches nestled closely together. The inky sky seemed especially big, their darkened clouds looming above the tips of the pine trees. The tall grass that bordered the forest and road, once lush, was beginning to pale in the approaching colder weather. Kurt was once again reminded of the prospect of change.

So much had changed in such a short span of time. His life, at this very moment, was an insurmountable whirlwind of it. It was up to him to decide whether he would be swept away or to remain still and adapt. Kurt looked at Blaine and wondered if the lycan could be his constant; an anchor that he could latch onto amidst this metamorphic maelstrom. He didn't love him. Not by any stretch of the imagination. Not yet, at least. But feelings were nonetheless starting to take root. It would only be a matter of time before something deeper would begin to sprout. Would Blaine stay around long enough to reap the fruits of their harvest? Or would he leave once he handed Kurt over to Santana? Kurt wanted so desperately to be more than just a liability for Blaine; more than just a means to a prophesied end. He wanted to be more than just someone who had to kept and guarded like some priceless museum exhibit; always visible but rarely ever permitted to be touched and loved beyond the ramblings of a critic.

"I'm sorry." Blaine's gruff voice broke the spell of quietude and grounded Kurt from his thoughts.

"What for, Blaine?" For everything, Kurt Blaine thought. He was so irresolute about thrusting Kurt into this menacingly foreign world of creatures. A world that Kurt never knew existed up until a few days ago. He was silently apologizing for acting as though Kurt was some fragile piece of porcelain. But he couldn't bring himself and his protective instincts to heel. Not while Kurt was a factor in this increasingly complex and supernatural equation.

The stakes were too high, he couldn't risk any harm coming Kurt's way. The lycan wouldn't be able to live with himself if merely one strand of Kurt's meticulous hair was damaged. It was dangerous having such an obvious Achilles heel; Kurt's safety being distinctly his. But as he glanced at Kurt's gorgeous face, he couldn't bear ignoring the feelings that were beginning to swell. He fought, tooth and nail, with his inner wolf to resist claiming the witch as his. But it would only be a matter of time before the temptation would prove to be too great for him to thwart. He had to remind himself that he was worthy of love. Of happiness. He had a sneaking suspicion that Kurt could be his light at the end of his cavernously dark tunnel. Blaine promised himself that he would try his best to not sabotage that possibility if Kurt showed signs of reciprocating his feelings. It would prove to be a challenging vow to keep.

"For acting too protective and scolding you for using magic. It's who you are. I can't be with you all the time and it's good that you have some means of defending yourself. But you shouldn't take magic lightly, Kurt." Blaine hesitated for a few seconds. "And I'm sorry for not telling you about this world of creatures you've been inducted to. I forget that everything is so new. You deserve to know." Kurt smirked, his mind reeling with questions.

"So, there's vampires, witches, and lycans...what else is there?" Kurt needed to know what to be prepared for in the times to come.

"Demons, mainly. There's subdivisions of them. Incubi and Succubae are the most common among humans. Jinn's and Nickar's are rarer. Demons are an odd species that evolve into a variety of forms, really. They escape the underworld every now and again fulfilling the whims of their masters. They're sneaky creatures; always popping up at the least favorable times to wreak havoc. Blaine snuck a glance at Kurt to see if he was following. The paler man's eyes were wide as saucers, processing the information as best as he could. "There's fairies, too. But they're all but extinct. The vampires made sure of that." He spit vampires out with as much venom as a cornered snake.

"Vampires...they seem like real pieces of work. Are they all bad?"

"They're a malevolent species for the most part. They hoard blood and time for their own selfish reasons. I've heard there's a few good ones. I've yet to meet them."

"You mentioned they killed the fairies. Is there a reason?" Kurt's voice was small, his fingers clutching his throat.

"It's their blood. It's too tempting for a vampire to resist. They all but committed genocide. Now they're after...witches." Blaine regretted telling Kurt the last part. He didn't want to terrify him. But he needed to know. "The magical properties in your blood makes them more powerful. And if it's not blood or time...power is their most sought-after resource." Kurt gulped, his throat arid. Violent scenarios played throughout his mind. He shivered, silently praying that none of them would manifest themselves to reality.

"Well. It seems as though I'm a hot commodity, huh?" Neither man laughed, the reality of Kurt's new life setting in. The paler man didn't want to be reduced to fodder for supernatural beings. He had an inkling, in the event that he was caught, that that would not be his fate. They wanted him for something much more sinister than fulfilling their most carnal desires. "They want me for something. Adam mentioned needing me in one piece. For what, I don't know. A ritual perhaps?" Kurt knitted his hands together in his lap, the nervousness he felt manifesting itself through his fingers.

"Maybe. I wouldn't put it past the vamps and demons. I'm certain it has to do with whatever it is that's coming. Hopefully Santana knows something." Blaine's eyes were guarded, and his usual visage of impassivity emerged to block the anxiety that he felt. It wouldn't do any good to stress Kurt out any further.

Kurt wished the voices came to him at his own will. They knew things that he didn't. Things that would undoubtedly answer any of Kurt's most troubling questions. The secrets they kept and their tales that were left untold were deafeningly silent. He needed them to fill in the missing gaps of information until they got to Santana. He was tired of being kept in the dark until they decided to shine their light from the shadows. Kurt wondered if there was a method to their silence. That there was a reason they only provided him with tiny morsels of intel when he needed them the most. Perhaps it was just the way fate happened to be dealt. Kurt briefly wondered if he could treat destiny like a tangible object; something he could touch and mold with his own two hands. He didn't enjoy the prospect of his fortune being some other entity's prerogative; to shape his life as they saw fit.

It was high time he placed the ball in his own court instead of playing by the rules of this game of kismet. He just didn't know how to.

"I'm scared, Blaine." Kurt's voice was tiny. Childlike, even. He watched the scenery that passed by as tears welled up on the precipice his eyelids. He didn't let them fall. Blaine's right hand caressed Kurt's knee before giving it a reassuring squeeze. Kurt clasped his hand over it, electricity bleeding through the skin-to-skin contact.

"Me too, Kurt. Me too."

They let the moment resolve itself, settling in their laps; their hearts achingly heavy. The two men let themselves, if only for a few moments, feel vulnerable. Honesty flowed through them; all the pretenses being momentarily suspended. They allowed themselves to bask in in the hurt and confusion; together.

Blaine continued to drive, his golden eyes intent on watching the road in front of him. One hand was on the steering wheel, the other resting on Kurt's lap. He sighed. Kurt was in the beginning throes of sleep, exhaustion clouding his tired, sea-stained eyes. They had a long and exhaustive road ahead of them. Blaine solemnly pondered at what he had gotten himself into and wondered if Kurt and the prophecy was worth it. One look at the now sleeping man was all the confirmation he needed. It indisputably was worth it.

While Blaine drove, both men were none the wiser of the band of creatures that stalked their every move from the shadows; their chops salivating at being so close to their unwitting prey.

It was nearly time for them to strike.

AN: Sorry if this seemed like a filler chapter. I felt that I needed to briefly establish some lore and Klaine's growing feelings for each other. And sorry for the cliff hanger. You'll probably find out who those band of creatures are next chapter. I'm debating writing part of the next chapter from their perspective. I think it would provide some valuable insight to the "entity" that is coming to inherit Kurt and the earth and what not. Let me know if that's something you guys are interested in! As always, please leave reviews and constructive criticisms. They really do encourage and inspire me to write. It feels good to know someone out there is reading and that I'm not just senselessly shouting into the void. 3