Tainted But Beautiful

Part 2: The Secrets

11. North

Pairings: AkuZeku, Zemyx, AkuRoku, AxDem

Rated: M

Warnings: Vampires, vampires, vampires...uh, yaoi, AU-ish-ness, abuse, noncon, rape, graphic scenes, character death, overall weirdness.

Summary: Axel is a powerful vampire slayer who's captured Zexion, a vampire, as his pet. What Axel doesn't bargain on is Demyx, his former student, developing a strong attraction to Zexion...

Notes: All right, it's the end of the week, so here's the last update before I go skiing for four days. Well, I'm not actually skiing. The rest of my family is. I'm going to stay nice and warm in the cabin, thanxverymuch.

Part one is over and done with, and so we commence part two, in which the plot really starts to develop. Not much to say on this chapter, but I feel it's the most intensely AkuRoku so far, so if you're looking forward to that pairing, good for you. Also, Vexen and Lexaeus show up...meaning some nice scenes between them and Zexion. I'm sorry, but I love the basement trio and their dynamic, so...I couldn't help but put it in here.

Read, and enjoy!


"Where..." choked Roxas. "Where are we going?"

Roxas felt nauseous, but wasn't sure exactly why. Perhaps it was the violent up-and-down pitching of the cabin, causing his stomach to lurch and flip and flop in ways it never had on solid ground. But he felt there was more to it. There was much, much more...

Much more. Red blood, spreading shockingly scarlet over the white of Axel's shirt...Axel's face, crumpled in pain...Axel's eyes, green and moist, but gazing at Roxas not with accusation and loathing but...but peace. Calm. Forgiveness.

"I forgive you, Roxas."

Those had been Axel's last words to Roxas. Roxas couldn't think of more pathetic, more unsuitable, final words for a man--for a man like Axel. A man so confident and strong, who had devoted his entire life to destroying vampires...killed by the hand of his own student, and, to add insult to injury, the last thing he'd said had not been the proper thing--had not been a spat accusation--but instead soft words of forgiveness.

You were a fighter, Axel! You should have gone down fighting, god damn it! Why--why--to say something like that to me--

"I forgive you." He didn't need anyone's forgiveness--he didn't want to be forgiven for what he'd done! Roxas had done a horrible thing. An evil thing. He deserved to be punished for it, but Axel hadn't. Axel had forgiven him. And Zexion...Zexion wasn't doing anything, and that made Roxas even angrier. All the vampire was doing was perching on the edge of his bed, staring out of the window--port hole, Roxas supposed, in naval parlance--and not saying a single word. Roxas had been expecting Zexion to blame him, to spit upon him the words of fury Axel had not. It would fit in Zexion's nature as a manipulator...to make Roxas feel guilty for Axel's death.

But Zexion wasn't doing anything. He hadn't said anything to Roxas ever since they had left--that place--except to give a few curt commands such as, "Follow me", "Stay quiet", and "Lay low" and the such. Roxas had obeyed because he couldn't fight against the marionette strings, and had followed Zexion to the port, where Zexion had first shoplifted clothes and sunglasses from a convenience store, and then accosted a man on a midnight stroll and stolen his wallet. Roxas honestly wasn't as bothered as he should have been because he'd seen plenty of crime in his days himself, and had even committed some (petty crimes...). Then, Zexion had slipped into a building and bought tickets for a passenger ship using the stolen money, it seemed. Roxas wished he'd payed more attention so that he would know where they were going.

But he hadn't. In truth, he'd been--disoriented. Disoriented primarily by the bright lights in the building--how could the people inside stand it? The lights were harsh, cutting, sending spasm of pain through Roxas's head as he struggled and failed to adjust to them. Zexion had said something about Roxas being ill--even epileptic, perhaps--to the woman he'd been buying tickets from, to dissuage suspicion. Roxas had certainly felt ill. How come he'd never noticed before, how bright lights could be...?

Worse than the lights were the smells, though. The instant they'd approached the unsuspecting woman, Roxas had been hit by a powerful wave of--of scent. How could he have never noticed how people smelled before? How strongly they smelled? How thick and rich their blood was, pumping and flowing in their veins...how, how, had had he been able to stand it? He'd wanted, almost, to leap up and rip her heart from her chest at that moment, to consume her rich and intoxicating-smelling blood...but again, Zexion had held him back.

"Abstain yourself. Greater prizes await," the vampire had murmured to Roxas. Then he'd grabbed Roxas by the wrist and dragged him to a waiting area, where he'd pulled on a pair of sunglasses, plunked down with the Sunday paper and began to fill out the crossword.

Roxas should have taken that opportunity to ask Zexion just where the hell they were going, since they were doing nothing but sitting there. But again, his mind was working too slowly to react. The lights were still burning, achingly bright, above him, and sometimes midnight stragglers passed close and he would catch a whiff of their blood and then...

After a while, Zexion seemed to have noticed Roxas's discomfort and helped somewhat by handing the boy a pair of sunglasses. That helped block out the aching lights, at the very least...

"Of course, you're apt to me more sensible to light of any kind, being newly made," Zexion had said in a clipped, matter-of-fact tone, tapping a shoplifted pencil against the crossword. "Thirteenth President of the United States of America. Fillmore. Thank you."

It was that instant that the sheer severity of the situation struck Roxas--no, not the fact that Millard Fillmore was the thirteenth President, but what Zexion had said before. Sensible to light...newly made... At first, the words had rung dully through Roxas's mind, echoing without meaning, but then, gradually, he began to attach sense to the words...and shrunk against his seat in horror.

Newly made. He was--he was--he was--

A vampire.

No, no, no, no! He couldn't be--he didn't want to be--this was just a horrific nightmare, that was all; a nightmare where Axel had died and Roxas had been turned, but that was all, a nightmare...and besides, if Roxas really was a vampire, he wouldn't be able to think, would he...? He'd just be a made monster, whose only thought was to madly consume blood. But then, with a spasm of horror, he remembered what Zexion had said earlier...about stopping the transformation halfway...

But did this mean that he wasn't a full vampire? Did this mean that there was still some--some--speck of humanity left in him? Did it mean that he had a chance to even...to even turn back?

"Transformations cannot be undone," Zexion had stated in a flat, precise voice. Whatever Roxas was...he'd be this forever.

The question was now of how long "forever" would be.

They had boarded, after long hours of sitting silently side-by-side in the waiting area. Zexion had finished both the crossword and all of the sudoku puzzles on the puzzle page, and, bored, had bought an entire sudoku book using the stolen money. He had been intently filling it in up to the second they boarded. Roxas was quite sure he'd heard someone announce where their ship was going, but he hadn't been listening...he'd been too disoriented, trying to move within the crowd even while hundreds of different scents, each as intoxicating as the last, pulled on him in every direction...

And now they were aboard the ship, pitching in the high seas, and Roxas still had no idea where they were going.

Hence the question. Roxas decided he had had enough of sitting in the chair, with only his own thoughts for company. He didn't like the direction his thoughts were going--didn't like thinking at all because inevitably, he'd always return to that one topic, the one that dominated his life now--he was a--

So to distract himself, he'd pitched the question to Zexion. Zexion, however, didn't seem to have heard at first--or, more probably, was just ignoring Roxas. He continued to stare out of the window, his sudoku book perched on his lap--but he hadn't been doing any of the puzzles for a long time already. He seemed to be as lost in thought as Roxas had been, his dark blue eyes distant, fixed on a point far across the horizon that Roxas couldn't see...

"Um," said Roxas again, his voice ringing surprisingly loud in the silent cabin. "So...so where are we going again? And why are we taking a ship? Wouldn't it be, um...faster...by plane?"

Not that Roxas had ever left the country before--or even the city--but he knew enough to know that planes were faster than ships. It was just common sense.

"Hmm?" For the first time, Zexion turned from his intent scrutiny of the window, facing Roxas with a slightly bemused expression on his face. "Oh. Yes. That. We are going North."

"North?" Something about the way Zexion had said it seemed to imply North with a capital N, the kind of North that conjured up images of snow and ice, of polar bears and igloos. "What d'you mean, 'North'?"

"I mean what I say," was all Zexion said, his words flat and toneless.

"Then why...why couldn't we have taken a plane?" said Roxas. The ship gave another particularly nasty jolt, and he almost fell--but managed to catch himself in time. His stomach, however, felt like it had dropped down to his toes, though that didn't explain why nausea was rising up in his esophagus.

"That man didn't have enough for a plane ticket, let alone two," said Zexion, turning away from Roxas again. "And for flights you have to pay beforehand. It would be too much of a hassle to find a flight that had open seats for us...and besides, there are...ah...other...reasons why I chose travel by ship..."

He trailed off, after that, and said nothing more to Roxas. Roxas frowned in Zexion's direction, waiting for a little more--for example, just why they were going North in the first place. But Zexion remained silent, so Roxas, with a heavy sigh, dropped his queries and resolved to simply sit, and wait, for Zexion to reveal whatever those "other reasons" were...or, as he suspected Zexion wouldn't tell him even that, for the ship to reach its destination. Wherever the hell that might be.


Roxas found out Zexion's "other reasons" just that afternoon.

He was sprawled in the chair, trying unsuccessfully to fight back his mounting nausea. The seas had become choppier, the skies outside grayer; a storm was threatening. Zexion didn't seem to care, as he was still perched on the edge of the bed, now absorbed in his sudoku book. Roxas couldn't believe how casual Zexion was being even while the ship was pitching up and down and Roxas's stomach was lurching backwards and forwards and all sorts of directions. He wanted to throw up, but wondered what would come up, now that he was a--now that he was no longer human.

But maybe, just maybe, this was hopeful sign--a sign that he had some element of humanity left, even beneath the blood-craving monster he'd become.

Pathetic, he thought, in a voice that wasn't quite his--a deeper voice, more taunting, almost condescending, but in a good-natured way. Hearing that achingly-familiar voice caused Roxas's heart to spasm in a fresh wave of pain, when he realized he would never be able to hear it again...but he had to concede it had a point. Pathetic, that he'd become so desperate he was grasping at all sorts of wild straws--nauesa?!--for proof of his humanity.

How? How the hell had this all happened? How was he still alive? He should have died--his heart should have caved in from the grief--from the trifecta of losing both his friends and his mentor, and becoming a...losing his humanity.

But he was still alive. For how long, Roxas didn't know, for he was quite sure Zexion would kill him as soon as he no longer was useful. For now, though, he was alive. And he had no idea why.

A knock at the door startled Roxas out of his miserable thoughts, and he jumped, surprised. Zexion, too, looked up from his sudoku book, frowning at the door.

"Um...room service," called a slightly nervous sounding female voice.

"Room service?" Roxas whipped around to face Zexion so fast he could hear his neck crack, but he didn't care--he was just shocked. Why had Zexion ordered room service, when neither of them could eat human food...?

"Yes," said Zexion, responding to Roxas's shock with a sardonic look that seemed to imply that Roxas was an idiot. "I am rather...hungry...at the moment, you know."

"What--" sputtered Roxas, wanting to challenge Zexion further--what kind of joke was this--

But then, with a cold jolt of horror that shot down his spine and tingled through his fingers, immobilizing him, Roxas realized.

"You can't!" he cried, after he'd managed to suck in the breath to speak. "You--you can't!"

"Who says I can't?" Zexion raised a skeptical eyebrow, throwing Roxas a look that was almost pitying. "You? You cannot tell me to do anything, as a matter of fact. Come in." He had stood up, striding to the door and throwing it open a single swift motion. Helplessly, Roxas watched as a young woman in a uniform entered the room, pushing a cart ahead of her...

Roxas was quite sure that if he was still--that in his old life--he would have fallen over salivating in voracious hunger. Certainly, from the smell of the food on the silver-covered platters on the cart seemed to suggest that it was rich, far richer than any Roxas had had before in his previous life, or even with--back at the house. But it just didn't...appeal...to him anymore. He could smell it all, the lobster, the puddings, the soups--but he didn't care.

The scent that truly caught Roxas's attention was that of the woman herself...or rather, her blood. The scent filled his nostrils, making him feel light-headed--and causing something to burn deep within him. He realized, for the time, that he was hungry. No, more than hungry--ravening. Voracious. Burning with a hunger that caused his knees to go weak and his entire being to tremble, tremble, out of desire of that blood, so sweet and rich and coursing steadily through the woman's veins, with each pump of her heart...

"Er...um...enjoy your meal, sirs..." said the woman awkwardly, an imperceptible tremor arresting her hands as she turned her eyes from Zexion, to Roxas, to Zexion again...taking in, Roxas realized, their bizarre appearance...their deathly pallor, the sunglasses they were still wearing even inside, the hastily-applied bandages on Zexion's face...

And perhaps, she was just a little bit--just the slightest tad--unnerved by the look Zexion was fixing her with. Even with his eyes hidden, there was no mistaking the smirk curving his lips, an eager, anticipating smirk that revealed the very tip of his fangs...

"Indeed, madam," said Zexion, his tone light, his voice polite--suddenly, Roxas flashed back to his idle comparisons of Zexion to a leisured aristocrat. "We shall enjoy this meal very much. Thank you for providing so amply for us..."

"Ah...you're very welcome, sir," said the woman, looking flustered. A plain-looking woman, she had probably never before in her life been addressed in such a silky--and seductive--tone before by a man. And a man whom Roxas had to grudgingly concede was rather good-looking as well...but that was all part of Zexion's act. "Well, I suppose I'd better get going now..."

"No, stay, please," said Zexion, his words still honey-sweet, and in a flash he was in front of the woman, his fingers closed around her wrist...the woman stared down in wide-eyed terror at her wrist...at Zexion's clawed fingers steadily tightening their grip...and a look of horrified recognition dawned on her face.

"Y--you're..." she whimpered, her lips trembling. "You're a--"

"Shh," whispered Zexion, gently placing a finger over her mouth to shush her. The woman fell silent, but she was still trembling hysterically--and Roxas could feel the fear radiating from her in palpable waves, almost smothering even the quivering temptation of her blood. She glanced back and forth, her eyes frantic, searching for an escape--but it was too late already.

"Zexion, stop--" began Roxas, standing up and holding out an arm to--to what? Stop Zexion?

"Don't tell me what to do." Zexion's voice was calm, but low and filled with a dark, insidious intent that caused his words to tremble with a near-hysterical edge of delight. "You have no idea...you have no idea...how long I've been waiting for this. You can't stop me now. No one can."

With that fiercely whispered pronouncement, Zexion lowered his mouth over the trembling woman's neck--and bit.

The woman let out a long, shuddering gasp, and then fell still, her head lolling to the side, the color draining from her face. For a wild moment, Roxas thought that she'd simply fallen asleep--but then the blood bloomed from her neck, where Zexion still had his fangs clamped into her, spilling in bright crimson streaks down her pale skin, flowing more freely than Roxas had ever seen blood flow before.

"No...stop..." he gasped in horror, but he couldn't deny that part of him--that raging, burning beast--was clamoring for the blood. Wanted the blood that Zexion was so eagerly lapping up, sucking from the wound itself and occasionally pausing to lick up the blood flowing down his victim's white neck. Roxas tried to deny it--tried to push it back--this bestial side--but it wouldn't, it was rumbling and starving and it wanted that blood more than anything--

"Mm...ahhhhh..." Zexion unleashed a long, deeply satisfied sigh as he surfaced from his victim, wiping the blood from his mouth as he did so. He flashed Roxas an impish smirk--a smirk that stabbed straight through Roxas's heart in its familiarity. Just like...just like him...

"Marvelous," said Zexion with another sigh, throwing his head back and closing his eyes, looking for all the world like a scientist who'd solved a grand theoretical puzzle--or a general who had won a momentous battle--or a prisoner freed after years of solitary confinement--in other words, like someone who had every reason to be supremely satisfied with himself. He was smiling, a quiet smile that would almost be innocent if it wasn't for...if it wasn't for what Zexion had just done...

"You're...you..." gasped Roxas, backing off even further, though he ended up feeling like an idiot when the ship pitched and he fell on his rear end on the floor. "You're..."

"It's been the longest time since I'd been able to truly sate my hunger..." murmured Zexion, still smiling, drumming his fingers absently over the still-bleeding wound on his victim's neck. "You, on the other hand, have never been able to sate your hunger. At least not until now. Here--I saved some for you. Aren't I a considerate master?"

"No!" cried Roxas in horror, staggering backwards as Zexion grabbed the corpse by the neck and held it in front of it, as if offering it to Roxas--because he was. It was horrifying--the woman was white as death, her face frozen in a mask of horror--but it wasn't just her appearance that revolted Roxas. Roxas had seen plenty of corpses in his time; too many, perhaps. But the difference now was--

Her blood. Rich and thick, flowing so freely, its intoxicating scent leaking all over...Roxas could feel his knees quivering and knew, just knew, that he was ready to spring, ready to leap and accept Zexion's offering, ready to eagerly suck the rest of her rich and steaming blood...

Don't do it! You can't! shouted a voice in his head, again a voice that was different from his own, now no longer taunting, but angry, filled with disapproval. Don't do it, Roxas!

Roxas obeyed. He held out, struggling against his instincts, against the monster within that just wanted to drink that blood, who cared what anyone thought--

But he wasn't a monster. He was...he was Roxas. He was Axel's Roxas, a vampire slayer, a boy with strong moral convictions, a boy who hated vampires because of what they'd done to Hayner and Pence and Olette, and what they'd made him do to Axel--

"Come, Roxas, it's no good denying your hunger," said Zexion, still giving Roxas a haughty and insidious smile. His hand moved to the corpse's hair, tugging the head back so more of the pale throat--and the blood--was visible to Roxas. "Have your fill. I won't drink any more."

"No!" cried Roxas again, taking a step backwards, trying desperately to resist the scent of the blood--he had to--this wasn't him! "No! I won't! I'm not a monster! I won't do this! It's wrong!"

"What's so 'wrong' about it?" An annoyed expression flashed across Zexion's face, if only for a moment. "You're a vampire. This is a human. You must feed. It's logical."

"I'm not a vampire, goddammit!" howled Roxas, clenching his hands into fists and even daring to advance towards Zexion--not to drink the woman's blood, but to...to attack. He didn't get to, though, because the ship pitched again and he fell over once more.

"Don't be an idiot." Zexion fixed Roxas with a withering look. "As much as you try to deny it...you cannot. The hunger burning within you speaks otherwise. You are not human anymore, Roxas. You are a vampire and you are my servant."

"Like hell I am!" Roxas had no idea why he was protesting--he knew everything Zexion was saying was true. But he still fought against it; he still didn't want to believe it. It didn't matter if it made sense or not. What mattered was that he didn't want to accept it. He was going to fight, fight like Axel hadn't before his death. Fight like Axel would want him to.

Fight against his very nature, fight against reason, fight against logic, fight against the world itself if he had to. But heaven be damned if he was just going to lie back and take everything that happened to him passively. The time for that was over.

Fight him, Roxas, don't give in, urged Axel in Roxas's head. You can overcome this. I know you can. You can do it, Roxas.

Roxas could barely even smell the blood anymore. All he knew--all he was aware of--was himself, was the vampire opposite him, scowling at him disapprovingly, was Axel. Because even if Axel was dead...he wasn't gone. He was still there. With Roxas. Encouraging him, chiding him if he had to. Forgiving him. One way or the other, he was there and it didn't matter what anyone else did or said. Didn't matter if Zexion said he was a vampire, and he couldn't change his nature.

If Axel wanted him to fight, then by God he would fight.

"You fool." Zexion's tone was heavy with disapproval. "Very well then. If you want to starve, then go right ahead. I don't care. Eventually you'll have to give in...eventually you'll give in to your hunger. Everyone does, in the end..."

He trailed off into a threatening hiss, before turning away from Roxas and kicking the woman's body under the bed in a single, dispassionate motion. There was a sickening thud as the body hit the wall--well, bulkhead--and then nothing else. A trail of blood splatters on the carpet was the only sign the woman had ever been there.

Zexion turned back to the sudoku book and began filling it out again, ignoring Roxas completely. Roxas remained standing where he was, frozen, his every limb quivering, trying to resist the smell of the woman's blood still wafting from under the bed. For the longest time, the only sound in the cabin was the steady skritch-scratching of Zexion's pencil on the book pages.

One sound was missing, one sound that should have been there. Roxas was quite sure his heart should be pounding as if he'd run a marathon, ringing so loudly in his ears that it would drown out all other sounds. But he didn't hear it. He heard nothing, nothing but silence, nothing but the scratching of Zexion's pencil, as if trying in a pathetic attempt to make up for the sound that should havebeen thump-thumping throughout the entire room.

But of course it wasn't. Why should Roxas's heart be beating, when he technically wasn't even alive anymore...?


The air was cold--no, more than cold. Icy, lashing against Roxas's skin like a hundred frozen knives. He winced, raising his arms to keep the wind out of his eyes; though he wasn't really feeling the cold. The wind, sharp against his skin, bothered him more than the cold he barely felt.

If Zexion was bothered by the wind too, he didn't give any sign of it. He simply kept stalking through the streets, head down, his shoplifted coat billowing around him. Roxas had no idea where Zexion was going, but didn't ask--he knew he probably was going to get a facetious answer, if any. So all Roxas could do was follow Zexion through the narrow streets of the town they had landed in, trying to ignore the wind and the odd stares of passersby wondering why the two pale young men weren't dressed heavily enough for the cold.

Roxas didn't even know where they were. It seemed the ship, after a week-long journey, had landed in a small port town...somewhere. There was snow in the streets, and the buildings were squat and quaint-looking. Everyone that was out seemed to be swaddled in heavy layers--a few people (old men, mostly) even in Inuit-style furs. Roxas couldn't help but stare. He'd never seen anywhere quite like this place before.

They had to be "North". Where, exactly, Roxas didn't know. Wherever they were, though, the people didn't speak English, if the snatches of speech Roxas had heard here and there were anything to go by. He didn't know these people's language, so he chose to stay close to Zexion and hope for the incubus to translate for them if anyone talked to them.

After winding their way through mazes of dark, unpaved streets, Zexion finally stopped in front of a building that seemed no different from any of the others they'd passed by. Roxas, unprepared for the stop, bumped into Zexion and almost fell over, but Zexion held out an arm to keep him from falling. Rather than thank Zexion, though, Roxas threw Zexion's arm off of him the instant he'd steadied--he did not want the vampire touching him more often than he had to. Zexion cast Roxas a withering glance, but turned back to the building, lifting an arm and knocking once, twice, on the door.

At first, no one answered. Zexion stood where he was, a faint annoyed look on his face, before knocking on the door again. This time, the answer was near instantaneous--the door was flung open the moment Zexion knocked, and he stumbled back, startled. Roxas resisted the sudden urge to laugh.

A dark-haired young woman stood at the door, staring wide-eyed at Zexion and Roxas. Zexion folded his arms, surveying her dispassionately, and she turned around and called something in a foreign language inside. A rustling sound, and then someone else approached--a man, a thin, balding man with watery gray eyes.

"My lord," he said--in English--lowering his head in a deferent bow to Zexion.

"Do not bow down to me," said Zexion, his voice cold. "I have come here to speak with the Northern Coven."

"And which coven are you from, my lord?" said the man. Though he was no longer bowing, he still kept his eyes cast down, away from Zexion's face.

"That is irrelevant. I have friends in the Northern Coven, and I wish to speak with them." Zexion lowered his voice, his words acquiring a frigid edge. Roxas shivered--it suddenly felt like the temperature had dropped a few degrees.

"Forgive me, my lord, but I really must know--"

"Silence. Refer me to...ah...'Vexen' and 'Lexaeus'. They know me, and they will vouch for me. What are you waiting for? Go!" Zexion's voice acquired the sharpness of an order, and he took a threatening step closer to the man. The trembling man didn't hesitate to obey--he dashed back inside, the girl closely following, slamming the door behind him.

"Er...I think that was a rejection..." said Roxas quietly. "And what are you talking about anyway? The 'Northern Coven'? Vexen--Lexaeus--"

"Friends," said Zexion, not meeting Roxas's gaze. "I've known them for a long time. They will help me."

"Help you what!" cried Roxas, frustrated, his anger finally boiling over. He'd followed Zexion around everywhere, had taken a ship North, had basically done everything Zexion had told him--and he still had no idea why! Why the hell had Zexion bothered coming all the way North? Why was he talking to these people? What the hell was going on? "I have no idea what you're doing and you--"

"Hmm, you're not really a good servant," said Zexion, fixing Roxas with a bored look. "I didn't think you would scream so much."

"Yeah? Well, I've got plenty of reason to 'scream'--" began Roxas, raising his voice even as Zexion lowered his, ignoring the weird stares people in the streets were starting to give him. Before Roxas could finish, however, the door swung open again.

"Very well then...come in, my lord," said the balding man, though the look he cast Zexion was a somewhat disgruntled one. "And...er...your servant too..."

Zexion bumped into the man as he entered, though perhaps that was intentional. The man slammed against the doorframe, now looking definitely affronted--though he couldn't do anything about it. Roxas followed after Zexion, still confused.

The room inside was cramped, but comfortable enough; judging by the decorations on the walls, the threadbare couches, and the photographs propped on beaten and scratched tables, it was a personal home. Roxas wondered what they were doing in here, just invading other peoples' houses like this...but Zexion didn't seem interested in the surroundings. He kept heading back, weaving through rooms until he reached what appeared to be a study, with heavy bookshelves lining the walls and books strewn over a beaten old desk.

Zexion didn't pause to even glance around the study, however. He just strode straight to the opposite wall--and shoved the bookshelf aside.

Roxas almost choked. It was just so--well, it was like something from a spy movie. Bookshelves that moved aside, to reveal gaping and cavernous spaces leading...who knew where. He could only stare, goggling, at the open space where the bookshelf had previously been...

"Follow." Zexion's voice issued in a sharp order that echoed somewhat, and Roxas realized that the vampire had already entered the space and was moving...down?

Well, he couldn't fight against the order, and he himself was curious to find out what was down there. Roxas followed without protest, to find that the space opened into a stone stairway. Zexion had already descended about halfway down, barely visible in the gloom. Roxas raced to catch up with Zexion, taking the steps two at a time. The incubus didn't once stop to allow Roxas to catch up, walking ahead, step by step, with his head down and his hands in his coat pockets, focused on seemingly nothing but his destination.

Wherever the hell that was... They were descending, definitely, heading deeper and deeper underground with each step. The air around them had acquired a definite sharp chill, and Roxas supposed that had be still been--if he was still--if he wasn't this--he would be half-frozen from cold already. As it was, though, he barely felt the icy cold. It was dark, too dark for normal eyes to see, but in his current...condition...the surroundings appeared to him as bright as they would on a moonlit night. For the longest time, he descended in silence by Zexion's side, the only sound the steady ringing of their steps on the stone.

As they descended further, Roxas began to become more aware of--the scents. A damp, earthy scent, as well as a cold, sharp, and wild scent that had been pervading Roxas's senses ever since their boat had landed--a scent that unmistakably spoke of North. But further, deeper in, more scents rose from the darkness to caress Roxas's heightened sense of smell...a clean and cold scent of ice and frost, and...

Roxas took an alarmed step backwards, reeling in shock. A scent at once horribly alien and intimately familiar had drifted with a sudden sharpness out of the darkness. It was a dark scent, dark and wild and reeking of blood, death, things best kept hidden at the corners of awareness...of every terror of night. Of shadows, of silence, of freezing ice and unfeeling earth, of pain and lamentation--

The scent of a vampire.

Two, to be precise, Roxas realized. He was surprised by how accurately he could now pin down the location of the two quickly approaching figure, just by scent alone. Bit by bit, too, after the initial shock of the discovery had worn off, he could begin to distinguish them. Both bore the heavy signature of blood and darkness, as every vampire did, but one seemed more sharp and clear--like ice--and the other heavier, earthier.

Zexion had noticed Roxas's reaction, and flashed the boy a quick, mirthless smirk. "So you've noticed them too. No need to be so startled. They aren't your enemies."

"I...ah..." said Roxas, his head still reeling though he didn't know why. Why had he reacted like that...? Well, of course he had--they were vampires he was smelling! Evil, undead creatures of the night...

And then, as the twin vampiric scents sharpened, became more pronounced than ever before, two figures stepped from the darkness and stopped before Roxas and Zexion.

Zexion was on them in a second, sliding across the space between him and the other two vampires with startling grace. Taking the hands of the larger one, he leaned up and whispered in a breathy, excited, voice, "Lexaeus!" And then, to the thinner vampire, not touching him but flashing him a smile at once pleased and teasing, "Vexen! A pleasure to see you both."

"What is the meaning of this, Ienzo?" snarled the vampire apparently named "Vexen". "You go missing for two months and then you show up with--"

"Shh." Zexion held a finger in front of him in an obvious silencing gesture. Then, his smirk acquiring a conspiratorial quality, "Zexion, if you please."

"Excuse me?" Vexen looked affronted, but then his gaze slipped over to Roxas, and an understanding look came over his face. "Very well then. Zexion. Now, will you explain just what is going on, or--"

"Not yet," interrupted Zexion, sounding strangely delighted at Vexen's fuming reaction. "I haven't made introductions, have I? Well, Roxas, these are two of my comrades from the Northern Coven. You may address them as 'Vexen'--" A sweeping gesture towards Vexen "--and 'Lexaeus'." A hint of a deferent bow in Lexaeus's direction. "Vexen, Lexaeus, this is Roxas. My newest servant."

"What?" A vein was twitching on Vexen's forehead. He was tall and thin, though not elegantly slim like Zexion--his thinness made him look angular, almost bony. Physically, he appeared far older than Zexion--perhaps in his early forties, Roxas guessed, although since he was a vampire he was probably much older. Like Zexion, he was deathly pale, his green eyes glinting like twin shards of ice in a harsh and lined face framed by long blonde hair.

"Zexion..." said the other vampire, Lexaeus, his voice quiet and rumbling in stark contrast to Vexen's higher-pitched and haughty tone. Lexaeus was truly the most massive person--vampire or human--Roxas had ever beheld, towering over all over three of them and seemingly composed of nothing but heavy muscle. He was as pale as Zexion and Vexen, but his pallor did not detract from his overall image of unbelievable strength. His hair was reddish, unkept; his eyes, a piercing blue.

Both vampires were dressed in identical long black cloaks, with ruffs of fur at the collar--though they really didn't need the fur to keep warm. They both fixed Zexion with serious looks, their expressions expectant, demanding answers. Although Vexen's was more demanding and Lexaeus's more expectant.

"He's only half-made, so he understands what's going on," said Zexion, patting Roxas quite hard on the head. Roxas felt his knees buckle, surprised by the sudden strength Zexion had put into the gesture. But mostly he was annoyed--how dare Zexion patronize him, treat him like a little child or worse, a pet! "The story behind his making is a long and complicated one and not one I wish to go in depth on. In fact, I'd prefer to spend as little time as possible here, seeing as I have business to conduct and places to go. That being said, I must ask of you both--will you lend me your full, unconditional support?"

The two elder vampires fixed Zexion with blank stares, both looking utterly flummoxed by his long, breathless speech. But only for a moment.

"What?" exploded Vexen, stepping forward and even shaking an enraged fist at Zexion, who gathered his coat about him as a damsel would her dress and took a distasteful step back. "Just what are you going on about, Ien--Zexion? Stepping in here with--with half-made servants, greeting us as if nothing's happened, and then asking us for help! I don't think so! Before you saunter in so cavalierly asking for our aid, why don't you tell us what you've been up to these past two months? I believe it's only fair!"

"Lexaeus..." Zexion ignoring Vexen completely, sighing and turning to Lexaeus and giving the large vampire a helpless look. "Please quiet him down."

Vexen only took more affront at this. "Do not act as if you have more authority than me, Ienzo! I am Even, of the most noble and ancient line of vampires the Visconti, and I will not be treated this way by a mere incubus--"

"Vexen!" This was Lexaeus, his voice harsh, ringing with authority. Vexen immediately cut off the middle of his indignant rant, turning away and folding his arms and scowling at the opposite wall. Zexion simply sighed, raising his finger to his temple and twirling it.

Lexaeus noticed the gesture and turned to Zexion now. When he spoke, his voice was calm but also chiding. "Zexion, Vexen has a point. I believe we deserve some answers."

"Can't this wait?" said Zexion, his tone scathing, his expression darkening. It was his turn to fold his arms, and fix Lexaeus with a piercing glare. "I am short on time. Very short on time, as a matter of fact. I need to move as quickly as possible. I'd appreciate it if you two were more of a help than a hindrance."

By now, Roxas was completely lost. Just what was Zexion talking about? What was going on? What was it that Vexen had called him--"Ienzo"--but why? Who were these vampires, how did Zexion know them, why did he think they were going to help him--? Roxas's head was swirling with so many questions he was surprised it didn't burst. He almost wanted to speak, wanted to demand answers from Zexion just as Vexen and Lexaeus were doing--such as what Zexion was in such a hurry to do--but kept silent, sensing it wouldn't be a good time to speak...and besides, he had to admit he was somewhat intimidated in the presence of three pureblood vampires.

"What is it you need to do?" cried Vexen, advancing towards Zexion even as Zexion steadily backed off, keeping at least a yard's distance between himself and the older vampire. "Explain, Zexion! You do not simply charge in on the Northern Coven one day and demand us to help you without even telling us what you need us for!"

"I don't have time to tell you!" For the first time, Zexion raised his voice, real anger clouding his countenance. Both Roxas and Vexen took a step back in surprise--Roxas surprised at the intensity of Zexion's anger. Whatever it was that Zexion wanted to do...he wanted to do it badly.

"Don't raise your voice to me, Ienzo!" Vexen's voice was sharp, lashing at Zexion like an icy blizzard.

"I'll do whatever I like, Even, and it isn't in your place to question me!"

"Ahem, but I do believe it is! You are but an incubus, and as a higher-ranked vampire than you I therefore command you to--"

"Enough." Lexaeus, in contrast to his comrades, had not shouted--but the low, growling tone of his voice, dripping in disapproval, was enough to stop the other two vampires mid-argument. Zexion and Vexen, who had been leaning close to each other, jabbing accusing fingers at the other's chest, leaped back immediately, turning to cast sullen looks at Lexaeus. Roxas almost laughed from the bizarre comedy of the situation--it was almost like Vexen and Zexion were two schoolchildren who'd been stopped mid-fight by a teacher.

But, of course, there wasn't anything funny about the situation at all, so Roxas choked his laugh back.

"Lexaeus--" began Zexion, at the same time Vexen snapped, "Aeleus--"

They both fell silent, though, when Lexaeus raised a great hand in an obvious gesture for them to quiet down. "Zexion. Tell us what it is you need. Only then will we be able to decide whether or not to give our aid to you."

"By the way, I believe we ought to know what he's been up to these past two months--" said Vexen loudly, shooting Lexaeus an expectant, sidelong look.

"Silence, Vexen. If Zexion does not wish to tell us, then he does not have to." Lexaeus's voice was calm as always, but Vexen did not handle the dismissal well, his face twisting into an ugly affronted expression and his hands balling into fists. "Now, Zexion..."

"Agree to help me." Although a trace of the incubus's old silkiness had slipped back into his voice, it was mitigated by the sullen quality of his tone; almost like a child denied what it wanted. "Agree to help me first, and then I will tell you."

"No." Lexaeus's dismissal was gentle, though, not harsh like Vexen's. "We cannot do that, Zexion."

"Yes, you can. All I am asking is for you to pledge a little bit--the slightest--of your resources and attention--to my cause," said Zexion, his voice calm, but the expression he was giving Lexaeus was almost...almost plaintive. By now, Roxas's curiosity was burning--just what could have aroused Zexion's passions so?

"I cannot do that until I know what your cause is." Again, Lexaeus spoke gently to Zexion, his tone almost...paternal. There was something familiar about his tone, almost painfully so...Roxas grit his teeth when he felt his heart pang, in remembrance of a red-haired vampire slayer who had often taken that same tone with him...

"Rrghh..." For the first time since Roxas had met Zexion, Zexion emitted a sound that could only be described as a growl. He tightened his hands into fists and glared back and forth between Vexen and Lexaeus, as if searching for an avenue out of his bind, but finding none, he turned back to Lexaeus. None of the anger had left his face, but he had started shaking now--the very slightest of tremors that was barely perceptible, yet was there.

"Nhh...very well, then." Zexion's slender shoulders shrugged in seeming defeat, and he took in a deep, shuddering breath before speaking again. "Very well. I shall tell you."

"Yes, pray tell us what could make you drop off the face of the earth for two months--" began Vexen, his voice haughty and delighted in a superior manner. Lexaeus threw Vexen a sharp look, however, and Vexen wisened up and assumed a sober expression.

"I was...I mean...that is to say..." Zexion paused, struggling for words before continuing in a calmer tone--though his voice held a faint edge of trembling anyhow. "I wish to search for a vampire slayer."

A vampire slayer? Roxas's first thought was--was smirking green eyes, a mocking smile, a man who had rescued Roxas and later praised his fighting abilities, had forgiven him even as he bled all over the carpet--but that couldn't be what Zexion meant. Axel was dead, why search for him, but--

But then, with a sudden flash, Roxas realized.

"Who? A vampire slayer? What?" cried Vexen, goggle-eyed, a look of very real--and rather stupid--surprise on his usually haughty face. "There's a vampire slayer you would like us to eliminate?"

"Why not go then to the Superior?" said Lexaeus, his rumbling voice pensive. "He would be able to devote more resources to hunting down a slayer, if that is what you want..."

"No!" Zexion sighed and shook his head. "No! That's not what I meant. I don't want you to kill this vampire slayer. He has not--he has not wronged me in any way. He is a human slayer. He doesn't--he doesn't understand." For some reason, Zexion shot Roxas a knowing look at the last words, which Roxas returned with a confused stare. Understand? Understand what?

"A human slayer?" The haughtiness returned tenfold to Vexen's voice, as if he was trying to make up for his previous lapse. "Why would you want us to search for a human slayer?"

"I knew it," said Zexion, closing his eyes and lowering his head. "That's why I wanted you to pledge your support beforehand. I knew you would refuse."

"Zexion..." Lexaeus took a step closer to Zexion, looking concerned. "We are not refusing you. This is just...this is rather surprising, that is all. I do not understand why you would..."

"It is a long story, and not one that I wish to recount." Zexion's voice was cold, but there was no hiding the pained edge behind the sharp words. "Please, Lexaeus...if you are truly my friend..."

"Don't play that card, Ienzo!" snarled Vexen, drawing himself up haughtily. "Not even you could sink that low--"

Zexion, however, went on as if Vexen hadn't even spoken. "If you are my friend...Lexaeus...I ask you but this: Help me. Help me find this slayer. I...there are...it is a complicated story, but I did some things wrong--horribly wrong--and I must right my mistakes. That's why I'm asking for your help. Please..."

Then, to Roxas's shock, Zexion took both of Lexaeus's larger, powerful hands in his own much slimmer ones, and sank into a low bow on one knee before the massive vampire. He remained in that position, propped on his knee, head lowered, silent, still clutching Lexaeus's hands, for what felt like an eternity to Roxas, but could not have been more than a few minutes. All fell silent in the cavern--there was not even the sound of breathing or heartbeats to break the tense, icy, silence.

Finally, after a momentous eternity, Lexaeus spoke, his deep voice rumbling through the cavern, echoing off the ice-coated stone walls, repeating the same words over and over again as if a chorus of bass voices was speaking his reply along with him:

"Stand, Zexion. We...we will help you."


And so there you have it. Not much to say on this chapter...

Except a fairly long update, due to the trip and to the fact that I have yet to finish the thirteenth chapter. Never fret, I'm about halfway through. So...anyway, here's the preview for chapter twelve, "Coven":

Unbidden, a memory arose in Demyx's mind, a memory he fought against with all his heart and soul and his entire being. He did not want to remember--did not want to remember a slate-haired boy, a boy with dark eyes and a young face belying years of knowledge and torment...a boy who cast him bitter smiles and harsh judgment...a boy who'd stared in bewilderment as Demyx declared his feelings...a beautiful boy, a pale boy, a boy like a broken butterfly...

Yeah! Dem-Dem shows up again! Bet you all missed him, after, like...a three-chapter absense.

Anyway, read and don't forget to send reviews! More updates will come quicker (after the trip) because school's finally let out for me! So I get two weeks...kinda...free...in between studying for the SAT and AcaDeca, that is. =/