Chapter 11 – Quack
"So you're not going to invite me in? I was only hoping to ask a question or two, I won't intrude for too long."
None of the vampires knew what the hell Vincent Faye was doing at their home, but it couldn't have been a good sign. Especially not now, when word that a halfblood was possibly in the area had been going around. It was only obvious Vincent had come to seek out the halfblood, but none of them had been prepared for it.
They could only be thankful that Ivan had taken Valentine out for a walk.
"Now really isn't the time," Harold remained expressionless. Vincent was much older than him, and therefore posed a threat. He couldn't allow the man to be anywhere near the teens, especially not Nico. He knew full well about Nico's past with Vincent, and he was willing to place his own life on the line to protect Nico from this vampire.
Vincent was well aware of the tension in the air. What he'd done in the past was in the past, but clearly this bunch of vampires still seemed to hold a grudge. He'd changed so much since those days, but he knew confessing that was just useless – they wouldn't trust his word alone. But Vincent didn't need their trust – he only needed to seek out his son and if these guys knew anything about Valentine, he needed to get it out of them, now.
The elder vampire knew he didn't need an invitation to be allowed in. He was far too powerful for any of them to stop him and it's not like he wanted to befriend them. So with a charming little smile, Vincent pushed himself between Harold and the auburn-haired vampire girl that had been trembling since he'd first approached the door. Eventually, the two stepped out of the way, allowing Vincent inside.
"Nice place," was all Vincent said as his gaze scanned the area. There were various scents in the house – there was at least five people living in the area based on the scents he picked up, though only four were in sight at the moment. Two had been at the door, and another vampire girl was fiddling about in the kitchen. None of these vampires seemed to interest him as much as the blonde-haired boy curled up on a nearby couch did. Vincent approached the couch and tilted his head in amusement. The boy's eyes were closed and he appeared to be lost in a deep sleep. He looked exhausted.
As Vincent drew closer to the couch, Harold felt a deep anger rise up into his chest. He was the only one that understood most of Nico's past, and he did not appreciate how Vincent's expression seemed amused, almost playful. Nico wasn't his toy, and Harold was prepared to step in at any moment and remind Vincent that he was in his house. These kids were his, and no one was allowed to toy with them.
"Well I'll be honest, I'm surprised you've kept the boy alive this long, Harold." Vincent said, sensing the man's stress and anger without having to look at him. He reached down and brushed a couple of blonde strands of hair away from Nico's closed eyes. They fell back down, and Vincent hid a tiny wry smile. "But it looks like he's tired himself out. Unfortunate. I was hoping I'd get a chance to speak with one of my favorite…. Donors."
Harold grit his teeth. Nico had not been a donor to Vincent. The boy had suffered and had wanted to end his own life, yes, but Vincent had taken advantage of that fact and now he seemed to find amusement in bringing up the past. Had Vincent come just to start a war with Harold? If so…
Vincent smiled weakly at Nico, suddenly appearing very tired and worn out. "Don't worry, I didn't come here for him. I came for an entirely different matter. In fact…" He stepped away from Nico's couch and finally made eye contact with Harold. "I was hoping you'd shed some light on the subject of the halfblood. Surely, you've heard of his existence by now?" He watched Harold's face carefully, absorbing his every blink and twitch. Lying to Vincent would be impossible.
"Of course," Harold replied truthfully, ignoring the wide-eyed stare Arielle was giving him. "Ever since the strange death of that vampire girl out in the forested area nearby, we've been getting visitors like you asking about the half-vampire." It wasn't a complete lie, but it wasn't the honest truth. Vincent narrowed his eyes.
"Oh? And what do you typically tell these 'visitors like me'?" Vincent asked curiously, his voice somewhat mocking.
"That I have no idea what they're talking about," Harold replied flatly. He let out a mocking chuckle, "Come on, Vincent. A halfblood in the area? That's some fairytale, not reality. Someone is probably just trying to disrupt the peace in our world."
Vincent seemed unperturbed. "Hm. You may be right," he said carelessly. His gaze shifted back to Nico's sleeping figure and a smile appeared against his lips when Nico suddenly frowned in his sleep, as if sensing something was wrong. "But if you are wrong and this halfblood does exist, you wouldn't hide anything from me, would you?" His cold eyes never left Nico's face though he was still speaking to Harold. "I feel a personal connection to that half-blood, a connection much deeper than you can understand. If you dare mess with anything of mine…"
It was a velvety threat and they both knew it. Harold didn't understand what sort of 'personal connection' Vincent could possibly have with Valentine, but he could only imagine that it was just Vincent's power-hunger speaking again. Vincent was always seeking power, and finding something as rare as a halfblood was the pure, raw definition of power. Of course he would want to make Valentine his.
"Ah, well… You wouldn't like if I messed with what belongs to you, would you?" Vincent asked, raising his eyebrows. Harold was seething though his face hardly showed any signs of it. Vincent was still peering down at Nico and very slowly, he bit down on his own thumb before bringing it down to Nico's lips. He lightly traced his bleeding thumb against Nico's lower lip, watching in amusement as the blonde flinched and licked absentmindedly at his lower lip, drawn to the sweet taste. It was only a moment later that Nico's eyes suddenly snapped open and he jerked upright, the familiar taste on his lips sending deep shivers down his whole being.
"Vincent. Stay away from him." Harold's words were filled with venom as Nico's eyes widened in confusion and surprise, then…fear. It was very rare that these emotions ever showed on Nico but at this moment, they were very clear on his expression.
"No harm will come to him, don't worry." Vincent replied gently, his gaze still on the disgruntled blonde. "Unless you keep anything regarding the halfblood away from me, that is."
Half-blood? Nico's tired eyes narrowed in hatred, "What, already found yourself something new to mess with? Have you grown bored of innocent humans already?" He was still faded from his nap, but he didn't care. All the pent-up hatred he'd had for this man had always turned into fear, but not this time. He would remain strong. He would not show his fear. The air around them crippled as the pressure rose, and the other vampires seemed to notice the presence of Nico's power because they all stiffened and it suddenly grew quiet.
Vincent seemed enlightened that Nico dared challenge him. "Something like that," he said with a wink that made Nico want to swallow back his words. He barely flinched at Nico's display of abilities, though he was mentally pleased to notice that his powers had matured. "I'm pleasantly surprised that you've kept yourself alive this long, actually. It's only been a few years, hasn't it? But then I do lose track of time occasionally…"
Nico knew the older vampire was subtly but intentionally emphasizing the vast age difference between them, clearly equating Nico's youth with lesser experience. Still, his jaw tensed sharply and a raw knot of fury fisted in his chest at the other vampire's careless words. Of course, it had become difficult to kill himself once he'd turned into a vampire and eventually he gave up on the idea of wanting to end his own life… yet here Vincent was, still mocking Nico for the past.
"Really? I had no idea you were getting so senile. This should be easier—" Nico's retort was suddenly cut off as Vincent stood up, easily able to resist Nico's power on him. He was far, far stronger than Nico, did the boy actually expect to faze him?
"Now, now, Nicholas. As much as I'd love to chat and hear about the new ways you've tried to kill yourself lately, I really can't stay long," He reached over and gently ruffled the top of Nico's head, further messing up his messy blonde locks. "Just make sure to let me know if you hear anything about a half-vampire, half-human." And with that, Vincent stood up and made his way out the door.
Nico realized he was starting to hyperventilate and quickly attempted to regain control. Vincent wanted to unnerve him, he could not give him that satisfaction! But how could he sit there quietly when he'd just confessed out loud the reasons of his death? He'd made Harold promise never to speak of it in front of the others, but now the truth was out thanks to this damn vampire. He sucked his breath in and clenched his eyes shut, feeling the uneasy stirring inside him, the restless echoes of whatever lay behind the door in his mind. Unease churned inside him, threatening to destroy the peace of the moment.
Why the hell had Vincent come, after all these years? What the hell did he want with Valentine? Nico pressed his eyes closed. Everything was going so wrong, it wasn't supposed to be this way, but then, he shouldn't be surprised, should he? Everything had a tendency to go wrong as soon as Valentine was involved, and Nico would have done well to remember that.
As the door shut behind Vincent, the tension in the air decreased abruptly and Nico wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, the taste of Vincent's blood still lingering in his lips. The blood that gave him the life he'd so desperately wanted to get rid of… Nico could feel the others' gaze on him as he let out a shaky breath and leaned his back against the couch. He didn't have to look at their gazes to know they were filled with sympathy. Pity.
He hated those gazes.
Minutes passed before the door flung open once more, and nearly everyone in the room held their breath in anticipation of the fact that Vincent had returned. When Ivan poked his head inside, sighs of relief escaped everyone's lips.
"Sooo, what was that all about?" Ivan asked as he kicked off his shoes and stepped inside, Valentine following close behind. The half-blood kept his gaze low as he took off his own shoes and jacket, unable to face anyone at the moment. He didn't pay attention to what they were saying, too busy caught up in what he'd learned that night.
Harold broke the silence first when it seemed like no one else wanted to speak up, "It was Vincent. I think he knows about…" His gaze shifted to Valentine for a moment but the boy was occupied with taking off his shoes to notice. Ivan seemed to understand so he nodded at Harold. "But he's not really one to side with the Elders, so I wonder why he's suddenly so interested…I'm going to go make a few phone calls," he mumbled, already disappearing to another room.
Ivan had been the only one to understand bits about Nico's past, so he reluctantly made his way over to the blonde and settled down beside him. Nico stiffened, preparing himself for another look of pity. He didn't need their damn pity, what he'd done in the past was in the past. It's not like he was still suicidal. Couldn't they just leave him alone?
Still, Nico didn't give Ivan enough credit. Ivan was well aware of how hard Nico had kept his past a secret, and he understood that Nico did not need or appreciate any pity regarding it. That didn't mean he didn't need to be comforted. Reaching over, Ivan flicked some hair out of Nico's green eyes, "Jeeze, did you fall asleep on the couch again? You've got a bunch of sleep wrinkles now," He pointed out, grinning at the unamused blonde boy. It was evident Nico was having a hard time trying to calm down, still, and it didn't help that Valentine had returned – he still had some explaining to do, and he doubted Valentine would leave him alone about it.
Valentine felt out of the picture. Harold was somewhere in another room, and Ivan seemed to be busy with Nico. Violet was still messing around in the kitchen, and Arielle… well, Valentine always felt paranoid around Arielle, like the girl was always staring him down or something.
He was completely left out. Valentine ached to be back in his apartment, but he'd already promised Harold he'd stay. Besides, his headache was only growing worse and his throat was feeling extremely dry. He was in no condition to go anywhere on his own.
Eventually, he found Ivan's room on his own and settled in a far corner of the room just as he'd done when he'd stayed the night in Nico's room.
Just in case.
Sometime in the middle of the night, someone had woken Valentine up and helped him lay down on something soft. A bed. Valentine was so tired and so damn hot, he couldn't seem to remember much of it.
He was, however, thankful.
Unfortunately, no matter how comforting the bed was, Valentine couldn't stop from trembling underneath the covers. His body was hot. It burned… but not with pain. No… not pain… It was quaking with desire. Raw. Intense.
His heels dug into the mattress…silk sheets…slippery, they gave him no purchase. He was trying not to scream but the heat burned in his chest, as if something was trying to claw through his ribs to get out. A few strained coughs escaped his lips, straining his parch throat. There was a deep craving in his chest that he couldn't even begin to understand, and a loud groan escaped him as the pain only intensified. He wanted to open his eyes but he felt so weak, too dizzy and too hot to even do that much.
Something beside him moved around and a hand was suddenly on his aching chest, making him wince and dig his heels further into the mattress. Blazing white hot panic speared through the halfblood and he tried to blindly struggle backwards, but his legs were tangled up in the sheets and… someone else's legs.
"Whoa, whoa, hey… it's me, Ivan. You're dreaming, Val. Come on…" a soft, sleepy, familiar voice penetrated Valentine's trembling panic but the burning sensation flooding his body did not disappear.
Ivan was lying beside him, leaning up on one elbow now as he blinked sleepily at the half-blood. The vampire's curly brown hair was wildly mussed from the pillow and sticking up at endearing angles. His half-lidded eyes were a little questioning. When he took in Valentine's panicking state and his sweating body, Ivan suddenly sat up.
He could practically feel the heat from Valentine's body despite them being inches apart. Valentine's shirt was sticking to him from all the sweat and his breaths were escaping as strained little wheezes. Something was wrong.
"Holy shit, you're burning up bad," Ivan mumbled unintelligently under his breath as he struggled to reach over to the other side and turn on his lamp light. Once some light flooded the room, Ivan kicked the bed covers to the floor and sat up on the bed to examine Valentine's trembling body. His fever had somehow worsened overnight and Ivan had absolutely no clue how to make it stop. Vampires didn't get sick like this unless they hadn't been fed in months and even then, the symptoms didn't seem to be as bad as Valentine looked at that very moment. And it's not like they had human medicine around the house, so Ivan truly had no idea how to deal with this.
Harold had announced a trip he had to make the previous night, and he'd be out for at least three days. Ivan doubted the others would know how to treat Valentine's stupid fever, but they had to do something.
"Shit, shit, shit, shit, can you not die on me?" Ivan's hands shook as he rolled off the bed and escaped into his bathroom, returning moments later with a small towel he'd rinsed in cold water. Leaning over, he dapped it against Valentine's burning face but it didn't seem to be any help. Valentine let out a pain-filled whimper, his fingers clenching weakly into tight fists as he gripped the bedsheets.
It hurt so bad, god, it hurt.
Not knowing what else to do, Ivan quickly bit down against his own wrist and placed it against Valentine's lips. He knew vampire blood healed and he'd seen Harold give Valentine blood many times to keep him alive – of course, he'd been asleep all those times, but now wasn't the time to think about the details. Besides, Valentine already knew about vampires. It's not like Ivan would have to explain much.
"Come on, drink, Val," Ivan murmured quietly, pressing his wrist down against Valentine's chilled lips. The boy's eyes were still closed, his eyebrows frowning in pain. Ivan's words didn't seem to register, and neither did the disgusting taste that was suddenly filling his mouth. Valentine moved his head to the side, trying to spit the disgusting substance out, but Ivan gripped his chin and kept him locked in place, forcing him to take in the blood that could heal him.
The taste of blood burned Valentine as it filled his mouth and travelled down his throat, stifling all his attempts at protesting. Strangely enough, Valentine felt himself regain some strength and slowly, his eyes cracked open. Ivan was staring down at him with wide eyes, his chest heaving, his face pale and yet flushed at the same time.
When their gazes met, Ivan slowly released Valentine's chin. "Ah….oh crap…" He mumbled vaguely under his breath, his eyes fixed on Valentine's glowing blue eyes. Eyes only glowed like that when a vampire was feeding or was hungry, but up until this moment Valentine had seemed so…human. It made sense Valentine would get this feverish – his vampire side seemed to have woken up somehow. Ivan tried not to panic as he slowly lifted his wrist away from Valentine's lips.
Broken from the life saving connection, a pained groan escaped Valentine's lips immediately and he laid still on the pillow, ashen – a waxen doll slipping from life. He felt so weak, so hot all over again…
Ivan swore silently. Gritting his teeth, he dipped his wrist back to the halfblood's lips, "Ughhh, Val…don't give up," he murmured, both commanding and cajoling, his chest heaving. He closed his eyes and drew in a deep, sharp breath as he felt teeth suddenly graze against the puncture wounds on his wrist. He suddenly remembered what that article had said – about a halfblood's bite being able to paralyze. They still had yet to prove it was true, though Ivan felt a bit nervous about being the test subject for that matter.
"Valentine…" it was a small, hopeless whisper as Valentine's trembling fingers wrapped around Ivan's arm, pressing his wrist closer. He wanted to stop Valentine soon, and he was honestly starting to worry about what would happen if he didn't. It was clear Valentine was somewhat enjoying the blood now.
Valentine didn't know when it had happened. The disgusting taste in his mouth had slowly turned sweet, and he wasn't even sure what he was doing anymore. He was still so out of it, but the burning sensation had disappeared and was replaced by a strange, euphoric feeling that made his insides buzz. He could hear Ivan mumbling something, but Valentine's ears didn't seem to register anything. The scent of something sweet was filling the air, and goddamn, why did it feel so good to brush his teeth against Ivan's skin? He grazed the skin gently with his teeth over and over again until finally, he let the tip of his teeth pierce the skin lightly. He could feel Ivan tense, but something like a sigh of relief escaped the other's lips after a moment.
"Looks like the article was only half-right," Ivan mumbled in slight, sarcastic amusement as he felt no different when Valentine's teeth pierced his skin.
The red on Valentine's cheeks eventually disappeared and when the boy's grip on Ivan's wrist tightened, signifying that he was getting too lost and too deep into his feeding, Ivan gently placed a hand against Valentine's chest and pushed him down. He pried his arm away from Valentine's grip and surprisingly enough, the half-blood let him go.
Valentine blinked, disoriented and giddy, almost ill. Ivan's blood had done the job intended – it had healed his strange fever, but his body was still quaking and in shock, even as the vampire blood now coursing strongly through him induced a state of incredible, dark euphoria. The clash of sensations, of weakness and strength was staggering and not something his body was designed to handle. Valentine felt like maybe he was going insane.
Though Ivan felt slightly panicked and was still only half-awake, he managed to offer Valentine a weak smile to comfort him. "You better still eat my lasagna," he pointed out in an attempt to lighten the mood. Valentine seemed to be aware of what he'd just done, and the boy was paling all over again.
"Wh-…Oh god….I'm s-sorry Ivan…" He could still taste the fresh blood on his lips and though it was somehow sweet, it didn't settle well in his stomach. He'd just drank blood…blood. That thought alone was enough to make him sick. Slowly, he pushed himself up into a sitting position and the second his eyes caught sight of Ivan's wrist, which was stained with dark blood and a few puncture holes, Valentine's eyes began to sting with tears.
Ivan quickly noticed this and his smile widened, though it was obvious it was strained, "Hey now, don't worry about it. It was my fault, I made you drink it. But do you feel better?"
Despite his aching chest and confusion, Valentine did feel better. Slowly, he nodded in reply. "B-…but it tasted-…I…I liked it," He stammered, not understanding what he'd just done. Ivan was a vampire, not him. So why the hell had he enjoyed his blood?!
Ivan didn't want to be the one to break the news to Valentine that he was some rare being, more magical than, say, a….unicorn. So he gave a tiny shrug instead and nodded, "Hey, I'd be offended if you didn't!" He sniffled, pretending to pout as he hugged his wrist against his chest. "I'll have you know that my blood is very good tasting, thank you very much."
Valentine wasn't sure if Ivan was joking or not or if this was one big nightmare. He didn't understand the situation but his mind so desperately wanted to accept what Ivan was telling him so he just nodded, accepting it whether it was a joke or not.
"Come on," Ivan said, extending out his other hand for Valentine to take, "Let's go clean this up." He didn't have to mention his wrist or Valentine's mouth for the halfblood to understand what he meant. Valentine nodded, hesitating briefly before taking Ivan's hand.
Before Valentine was even completely off the bed, the door suddenly burst open and a duck walked in.
Okay, well, not a duck but a very angry Nico dressed in one.
The onesie was mostly yellow, with just a white middle. Attached was a hood that had big duck eyes and an orange beak and as Nico stepped inside the room, the two surprised boys could make out a small duck tail attached to the back.
Ivan couldn't hide his laugh, "Awww, Coco, you're wearing a onesie!" He knew of Nico's adorable taste in pajamas but the blonde hardly ever let the others see him dressed in them. Valentine just stared, not sure whether he was more surprised by the duck onesie he was wearing or at the fact that Nico looked ready to murder. Both seemed equally terrifying.
"Shut up, Ivan," Nico hissed almost immediately, his gaze fixed on the arm that Ivan had pressed against his chest. "Is everything okay here? I smelled…" He froze, his gaze moving to Valentine. The boy had tried to shift to one side, his head slightly tilted as he attempted to hide his face.
Nico gave Ivan a disturbed look before approaching Valentine. Placing a hand on the halfblood's shoulder, he whirled the boy around and gritted his teeth at the sight. Valentine's lips were stained with blood and a few drops dotted the corner of his lips as well as his chin. Nico almost immediately recognized that it was Ivan's blood, and this made him frown.
"He was getting really sick," Ivan explained, knowing Nico would make a big deal soon enough if he didn't, "He literally looked like he was about to die, and I panicked. I didn't really have much of a choice."
Nico's glare disappeared and his gaze softened at hearing this piece of info. "Oh," He replied. Of course, Ivan had failed to mention that Valentine had liked the blood and had glowing eyes and fangs but that was something to discuss later, when Valentine wasn't looking so damn guilty and confused.
Ivan looked like he was going to add something. He hesitated for a moment, then turned to Valentine, "Bathroom's right there. You can go wash up first," He said, giving Valentine one more reassuring smile. The halfblood knew Ivan wanted to tell Nico something in private, though he had a feeling it would be about him. Still, he wanted to desperately get rid of the blood on his lips, so he disappeared into the bathroom in Ivan's room, shutting the door after himself.
"Holy cow, Coco, he is a vampire," Ivan burst out into a whisper as he lowered his wrist, revealing the puncture wounds. Two of the holes had been made by him, but there was another set of tinier puncture wounds that Valentine had made. "He knows about us, but he has no clue he's one of us. We need to call Harold."
Nico's anger seemed to return almost as quickly as it had appeared, "Wait, wait, you told him?" he slapped a hand against his forehead, "Oh, man. This isn't good."
Ivan rolled his eyes, "Oh, please, you told him first about you. But, anyway, Harold—"
"Doesn't have to find out. Look, word's obviously out that Valentine's around here so the less more of us know, the better. Between you and me, we can give him blood if he needs it," Nico hissed, not wanting Harold to be involved in this at all. Harold would definitely blame him for everything.
Ivan, on the other hand, thought Nico was going nuts. "Are you crazy? Why do we have to hide him!? We already knew he was part-vampire, so what if he decided to show it just now? We were sort of expecting it," he pointed out.
Nico rolled his eyes, "Idiot, if he's one of us, he's going to have to live with us. We can't even drink his blood, and everything about him is so goddamn annoying."
Ivan could have burst out laughing if Valentine wasn't just a room away, "Seriously? Come on, he's not too bad. I kind of like having him around."
Nico wanted to strangle Ivan. Having Valentine around meant reminding him of that delicious blood, it meant reminding him of the way he'd lost control. It meant Vincent might come by again. It meant another vampire mouth to feed, another excuse for Harold to blame Nico, another thing that he didn't understand. It meant too many things, and Nico hated that. Why couldn't things just remain simple?
"Yeah? Well I hate having him around," Nico hissed back.
The bathroom door clicked open, and Valentine stepped out. His face had been washed and dried, though he still looked utterly devastated.
"Great, the idiot's back," Nico mumbled under his breath as he ran a shaky hand through his dirty blonde hair.
"Go quack yourself," Valentine mumbled under his breath.
Guess who's about to start school? Yeppppp. :'c Which means updates might be much slower and a bit less consistent. Nonetheless, I do enjoy writing this and I see no reason to stop. Keep motivating me!