"But you are vampires?"

"You're a cop?"

Ascension

Chapter Thirty Six

Out of Confusions: The Worse Day Ever, Part Seventeen.

For a moment, it seemed he hadn't heard him, the wolf. He didn't move. The fireplace flickered. Esme shifted. Carlisle waited patiently. Yet the man sat frozen. His head drooped tiredly upon dirt crusted hands that were as large as the forest and as strong as the stout trees within it. Eventually, he lifted his gaze. The wolf's eyebrows knotted under gel slicked bangs. He looked silently towards the couple his eyes swimming in confusion. That confirmed it. The emotion, the perplexity, it validated the doctor's suspicions. I was right, Carlisle smiled. He didn't hear me. Patiently, he repeated himself once more confident now that he had his attention. "What happened to the game?" he asked. "You mentioned you would hunt?"

Takashi blinked then sat up. One hand meandered to the arm of the couch while the other curled around his stomach. He took a breath then released it softly. "I came upon a dilemma just as I was leaving," he said. "It made me double-back, unfortunately—well fortunately in this case." Putting his chin on his fist, he nodded towards the counter, towards the dragon crouching over it. He stared at her a moment, his thoughts wandering. Turbulent like the sea in a storm, they wouldn't settle, at least not when he was this exhausted. So he dropped them, his thoughts. His unfinished hypothesis, he tucked away letting it scamper with his gaze.

He turned back towards the sofa, his eyes catching a stripe of confusion crawl across the doctor's skin. It crept, lurked, inched slowly from eye to nose to jaw. Leech doesn't even get it, Takashi snorted. His smirk grew slyly molding into a ghost of a smile. "I'm a cop," he explained. He paused then pressed further. "It would go against my ethics to kill a human, even though at times I've felt some deserved it."

Understanding instantly lit across the vampires' faces. They both smiled, the doctor and his wife. They chuckled softly. "I see," Carlisle replied. Relaxing, he made himself more comfortable. His hand drifted to the back of his Chester suede sofa, his fingers caressing absently the tender shoulders of his mate, the soft fabric of her sweater. "You left so abruptly," he said. "I didn't have time to tell you."

Esme looked up at him, her eyes sparkling in the light of the fire. "My dear, with everything, I'd be amazed if you even thought about it."

The doctor's smile broadened. He nodded turning towards the wolf. Takashi tilted his head. "We don't hunt humans," Carlisle explained. "Whatever you would have hunted would have been acceptable."

Bewildered, Takashi let his eyebrows crinkle once more. They leveled heavily, suspiciously. "But you are vampires," he observed. "How do you survive? Feed off donated blood?"

Slowly, Carlisle shook his head. "With my job something like that would be relatively easy to pull off, however that is not the path we've taken. My family and I are able to control our condition through the hunting of animals. Though the blood isn't as alluring as human blood, the hunts quell the condition and satisfy our desire for violence."

Takashi drummed his fingers on the padded armrest. The blunt thuds were quietly censored, hidden by the crackling fire burning solemnly next to him. He gritted his teeth. "You treat your transformation like a disease?"

"Yes," Carlisle answered truthfully. He spoke straight forward. Matter-a-fact. It was proof that he had this conversation plenty of times and encountered the wolf's reaction just as often. "It's incurable, a happenstance that occurred and can't be undone. With it come numerous consequences, but that doesn't mean I should allow them to dictate my life or how I behave. If I can control this… circumstance," he paused the words falling from his lips like a forgotten memory. A Circumstance. A Condition. A Disease. They were all ill chosen labels, but they were closer, nearer to his meaning than anything else and so he used them freely. Still, in his thoughts, in the deep recesses of his heart, he knew that it didn't matter what he called it, this life he was living. It didn't change a thing. Carlisle looked away. He was damned regardless. He took a breath, then released it softly. "If through my sacrifice I can save lives, I should do so notwithstanding my desires or resulting fate."

Yet Takashi shook his head. "But you deny yourself who you are."

Carlisle pursed his lips. He slowly crossed his legs. "For someone whose ethics involve not taking human life, I'm curious why you would argue for the slaughtering of them."

"It's because I'm a demon and a wolf," he answered. Wandering fingers outlined a fold in his slacks, straightening obscurely the fabric along his knee. The wolf shrugged, "I'm surprised you haven't had this conversation with the imp yet." He paused. "But then again…"

Esme frowned and tilted her head. "I don't understand."

He looked at her. "We are demons born from nature, animals and the like. Like the creatures we emulate, we live by our instincts. It's as natural for us as breathing, yet you do the opposite. You deny your nature, and so you deny yourself."

"But that still doesn't make sense." She pointed at the ring on his finger. "Those things, they hide who you really are. Don't they? From what we've gathered from Seras, you wear them for survival reasons, for peace so you can live amongst the humans. What we are doing isn't any different."

"But it is. None of us wear these of our own choosing," he said carefully. "Unlike you, who willingly lock away your instincts, we do so because it's the law. When out in the open, we are to remain covered wearing these at all times. For many, it's considered a brand, a symbol of shame to remind us how we lost the war and our dignity. There are many who itch to escape from these and come out of hiding. They will give anything to reclaim what they lost."

"And what is that?" Esme asked lifting a hand to her lips.

"Our power," he said darkly. Takashi sighed and leaned back into the cushions eyeing the two with fatigue. "Don't get me wrong," he said. "I don't care what you do. I just don't understand it."

Carlisle nodded briefly turning to the dragon. She was still at the counter. He regarded her carefully. "So, you approve of slaughtering humans. If that's the case, why would you become a cop?"

Takashi watched him just as carefully. His eyes narrowed. "I'm a demon born of another time. Killing, be it youkai, human, or animal was the way of life. The years have not quelled that in me."

"But—"

But before Esme could interrupt, he pressed further. "Do not put me into the moral box that humans follow. I am not human. I have never been human, and the death of most humans is below my notice. Yet I care for one reason alone. A safe human is a happy human. A safe human won't come after my pack. Two types of demons join the ranks of Youkai Law Enforcement: those who like to kill, those who – no three – those who like to kill, those who care about human safety, and those like me who don't want to see good demons die and wish to ensure the protection of our race by quelling those that would threaten our welcome in this human world. I am of the third type. I protect my own."

Standing from the stool, Seras snorted catching everyone's attention. She licked her fork then gathered her bowl. "For someone who says I have a big mouth, you should hear all the crap coming from yours."

Takashi grunted even as he watched her stalk to the counter eyeing covetously the second bowl Esme had prepared. He glared. "You know as well as I do how touchy that topic is and—oh no, you don't. That was enough. There were at least two helpings in there."

Seras stopped and glared back.

He slouched further. "Just because you can't control your instincts doesn't mean I'm going to sit back and watch you binge your way to a fat ass."

Seras huffed, "So says the guy slouching on the couch."

She shook her head turning towards the sink. She knew he was right, in spite of her reaction. Putting the bowl on the counter, Seras took her time rolling up the stiff fabric of her long sleeve t-shirt. The sleeves were tight and stubborn, the elastic neigh immovable. She scrunched her nose turning on the faucet while fiddling with the impossible. She wished she could just rip it, but the shirt wasn't hers and so she couldn't, not on clear conscience anyway. It was frustrating to say the least.

Seeing her struggle, Esme spoke interrupting her movements quietly. "Don't worry about the dishes, Seras, I got those." The dragon paused, an eyebrow lifting. Rising from the couch, Esme walked over retrieving a clean wash rag from the side cabinet. She pointed firmly at the loveseat. "We have a guest," she explained, "and he's waiting for you."

Knowing this was a fight she wasn't going to win, and secretly didn't want to, Seras let loose the stubborn cuff and scampered away headed for the cozy little nook. She paused at the opening between the couch and loveseat eyeing Takashi expectantly. He watched her in return knowing instantly what she wanted.

He grunted. Blowing at his bangs, he laid back sprawling unashamedly upon the small two-seater. One leg rested over the top, the other dangled off the edge. Esme would have scoffed if it wasn't for the way Seras immediately jumped in after him. That was worse. Briskly, she wiped her hands on a nearby towel before stalking back into the living room. Partway there though, she spotted movement. A body sat behind the balcony, its head peaking between whitewashed columns watching everything from the second floor. Curious, Esme peered closer then promptly smiled. Subtly, she looked away keeping the spy's little secret.

Takashi gazed down at Seras his eyebrow perking. He lifted a hand then let it drop running strong, stout fingers through dark hair that was still partly damp. He embraced her lazily. "You are positively spoiled," he muttered.

Instantly, she crinkled her nose. "I'm a daiyoukai," she murmured. "I'm supposed to be."

Seras turned her head hearing Esme sit down next to her husband. She nuzzled closer to his neck, the wolf. He, in turn, repaid the caress purposely staying in contact. A hand touched a leg. A nose sniffed. Another paw stroked the small of her back as his chin rested tiredly over a crown of thick spiky hair. Instantly, they relaxed, a need being met for both of them. He exhaled growling softly. It was practically a purr.

"This has been the worse fucking day," Seras replied.

He couldn't agree more.

For a moment, Carlisle just eyed them a question forming, a solution growing too. He decided to drop the matter of her cursing and—he didn't know what they were doing on his loveseat. It was vulgar, but then again, that could be the Brit in him speaking. As the wolf said earlier, there were just some things that didn't change with time. He took a deep breath then endeavored to initiate the one topic he dreaded since the day she turned human.

He tilted his head, his hand once again caressing the shoulder of his wife. She felt the change. His mood drifted, and it caught her attention. Seras regarded him curiously. Her eyes met his. His own stole hers silently until movement on the balcony pried them apart. Her gaze pivoted away, and he knew what it meant. Perhaps, this would go easier if everyone was present. Carlisle dropped his shoulders. Turning slightly, he looked up to the second floor spying brown hair and crimson eyes. He smiled. "It's alright," he assured. "You can come down now."