Chapter Fourteen: Square Hammer

He stood in the halo of a streetlamp. His metallic hair gleamed sickly green in the light, which warped the deep burgundy color of his suit into something unpleasant. An elegant white cane was gripped in even whiter gloves.

Seto's hackles raised immediately.

Shadows whipped around Yami in a swirling, intimidating display. He stalked forward, slinking like a panther on the prowl. Seto trailed behind in his tumultuous wake.

"Pegasus…" Yami rumbled, and the very night itself stirred.

"Oh, Yami, what a pleasant night for a walk, hmm?" Maximillion Pegasus cooed.

A low growl. Shadows throbbed. "Don't play coy with me, Pegasus."

A visible gulp. "There is something of much import that I must discuss with you."

Crimson eyes narrowed to glowing slits.

"It's Paradius."

Seto lingered awkwardly in the study, and somewhat hovered over Yami's shoulder, who was sitting stiffly in his chair behind the desk. Pegasus was perched on the edge of an armchair across from them.

He exuded an air of confidence and ease, but his cognac eye darted about the room.

Seto found himself smirking a little.

Yami crossed one slender leg over the other.

"You always come crawling back to me, Max," he rumbled, jaw set on his knuckles. "When all others reject you, I remain." Violet eyes glowed crimson around the pupils. "No matter how you blunder, you know I will be here to accept you once again." Solemn, monotonous. "And, as surely as the tides turn, it has happened again."

Pegasus stiffened. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Scarlet flared brighter as eyelids narrowed. "I can tell, you know. You no longer have the Eye. They stole it from you."

Pegasus' head lowered.

"How long did you have it?" Yami made a show of counting on his fingers. "Four centuries?" A chuckle. "The only people to have one longer remains myself and one other." A beat of silence. "You don't have to tell me anything. I already know. Dartz is collecting the Items. A tryad of his spawns accosted Seto not a week ago, and escaped with a counterfeit Pendant, one of many I have planted throughout my dwelling."

Pegasus looked back up, silver brow arched. "Escaped? Yami, I must say, you're losing your touch."

Yami's upper lip curled, exposed a fang. The shadows seized and trembled. Seto shuddered. "It would be wise not to insult me in my own home, Pegasus. Especially when I have been spending so much time cleaning up your messes."

"Um, noted," Pegasus croaked. His long, sickly pale fingers thrummed on his cane, set across his knees. "You say you know what they are doing, but do you know why they are doing what they are doing?"

Yami scoffed. "Those who assemble the Items do it for two reasons, and two reasons only; power, and to release Apep's influence upon the world once again."

Pegasus huffed. "Yami, Lord of Shadows, the one with all the answers." His only visible eye rolled. "Those aren't the only reasons, but yes."

A dark eyebrow arched. "Oh? And what are others?" He leaned forward, intense, and Seto thought of a big cat ready to pounce. "What are yours?"

Pegasus looked startled.

"Oh, don't give me that look, Maximillion. You only get yourself involved if you have something to gain from it," Yami hissed. "You are the pinnacle of opportunism, much like some parasite or scavenger." He steepled his fingers, peered at Pegasus over their tips. "Why do you want the Items?"

Pegasus stiffened even more in his seat. "I think that's hardly any of your business."

The shadows around Yami's desk fluttered, winglike. "I have sacrificed everything for these unholy artifacts. It was with my mortal blood that Apep was sealed. Any intent with the Millennium Items is 'my business.'" He trailed off. A wicked grin split his lips. "I would also like to remind you of the last time you were less than forthcoming with me, Strigoi."

Pegasus hissed, jagged teeth flashing, a flicker of a serpentine tongue.

Yami slammed a fist upon the desk, his body surging up. "Still you dare to defy me!" Black wings flared open, silk in a storm, and the lights flickered. "Tell me!" The roar rattled the books in their shelves.

Pegasus' frantic scrambling knocked his chair to the floor with a clatter.

The shadows furled, feathers closing, and Yami stood, resolute, behind his desk.

Pegasus' silver hair was splayed about, and Seto caught a glimpse of a swollen, empty eye socket. Shivering, he dragged himself to his feet.

Yami sank into his chair, reclined with all the elegant poise befitting him. He waited patiently for Pegasus to right his chair and sit down once again.

Pegasus fixed his hair best he could, pale hands trembling. "When I was turned, I had been married," he said quietly. "My wife, Cecelia, was a sickly woman. I… tried to turn her, to keep our vows as spouses eternal." He placed his cane back over his knees. "In fact, she was the reason I accepted this curse at all."

Yami bobbed his head, a knowing look on his face. Seto wondered how many times the ancient vampire had heard such a tale.

"It did not work. She did not have the strength to complete the transformation," Pegasus said. "My wife passed to the other world." He ran his hand along the white cane. "I heard tales of you… your resurrection, your return from the land of the dead." A single cognac eye finally lifted. "And of how the Millennium Items facilitated this feat."

Yami made a sound low in his throat. "So you planned on using them to revive her?"

A solemn nod.

Yami shook his head. "It would never have worked."

Pegasus arched a brow.

Yami leaned forward, crimson swirling with purple. "The Millennium Items had nothing to do with my resurrection." He sat back again, languid. "The tales you've heard are just that. Tales. Rumors warped by thousands of years of retelling and retelling, embellishments upon embellishments."

Seto chuckled. As if the true story needed anymore embellishments. It was already colorful enough.

Amused, yet quizzical, Yami glanced at him out of the corner of his eye.

Seto shook his head in reply and grinned wryly.

"As I was saying, there are only two reasons, and yours is no exception," Yami concluded. "You wanted power. The power to bring the dead from their graves." Yami leaned his jaw on his knuckles again. "I shall tell you now, Pegasus, that some things should rest forever. They are better off that way."

"Your unending wisdom humbles me," Pegasus replied with mocking solemnity.

A dark brow cocked. "As it should. Believe it or not, I know what I am talking about."

Pegasus waved a gloved hand dismissively.

Yami shifted. "I know what Paradius wants. And that is both of the two options. They want power to overthrow me, and, in doing so, release Apep from his ancient prison." He hummed. The note seemed to resonate through the walls. "They want domination, of both this world and the next."

Pegasus huffed melodramatically. "Then what am I here for?"

Yami chuckled. "I suppose it is nice to have confirmation." Violet eyes were intent. "And I know it is not the only reason you are here."

Pegasus' laugh was a coo, pretentious and grating. "Yes, I also wanted to discuss our… shared interest." A single cognac eye affixed to Seto.

Yami bristled, and Seto felt himself doing the same. "We share nothing."

"I, too, played a part in what Kaiba has become. By the laws of our people, your people, I have a say in how he is raised."

Yami lunged forward, hands slamming on the desktop. "You have a say in nothing!" he spat. "I have spent the past five centuries cleaning up your innumerable messes! Countless spawns you have cast aside to deal with their undeath however they see fit!" Black, like graphite smudges, clung to his edges. "You have never cared about them, and you have lost the privilege of propagating and grooming your own blood!" He threw an arm out in an enraged gesture. "My blood is dominant in his veins! Your influence is but a candle next to mine!"

Seto blinked at his sire.

His… sires…?

He had two.

And one was Maximillion Pegasus.

"You do not get to decide when my rights as his sire are rescinded. In fact, as far as I am concerned, you stole him from me," Pegasus hissed. His eye flashed to a sulfurous yellow.

"Oh please," Yami snarled. "As if you had the intention of turning him. You would have left him for dead if you couldn't have turned him into your personal marionette." A short breath. "And I refuse to bicker over him as if we were an inanimate object."

- Sometime later, when Seto reflected on the conversation, he thought about how, technically, he was an inanimate object -

For the first time since entering the room, Seto decided to speak. "You can go fuck yourself, Pegasus."

An aghast look of offense.

"You wouldn't give two shits about me if Yami hadn't given me so much of his blood," Seto said, blunt, blasé. "You just want to use me for your own gains."

Pegasus scoffed. "As if Yami isn't doing the same!" He turned back to the man in question. "Were you so lonely that you had to turn someone to have any meaningful relationship, Yami-boy? You've chased away or killed everyone else, right?"

The lights went out.

Red eyes glared in the growing dark as the shadows surged beneath bone-chilling fury.

"Leave!" The church shook on its foundation at the roar. "I will stand your insolence no longer!"

Seto shivered. The shadows sucked any warmth from the air.

They could hear Pegasus scramble away like a cockroach for shelter.

The cold in the air receded with the fading black, but Seto still felt like ice. After a moment, the lights flickered back on, hesitantly, timidly, as if fearing another sable outburst. Yami stood, palms on the desk, shoulders shaking with barely-contained rage.

Seto reached forward, set a hand on Yami's back. Pulsating crimson eyes stared at him over a trembling shoulder. Seto gulped, but still petted along Yami's spine in a soothing manner. With each pass of his hand, red cooled to violet, until, eventually, Yami's stiff posture slumped. Yami looked away, frowning.

"I apologize for my outburst."

Seto dug his thumb under Yami's scapula, worked out a knot. "Don't. He was deliberately being an ass."

Before he knew it, Seto was giving Yami a full-fledged back massage.

Yami sighed, tired yet delighted. "Right there."

Seto blushed, but it never once occurred to him to stop.

The Egyptian Nightjar flew right through the window. Pale blue, ice-like eyes widened.

Shadi would not attempt contact unless something happened. Something bad.

He inhaled roughly when he realized that the bird wasn't Shadi.

It was just a normal bird.

He immediately set to writing a letter.

"So, what did I actually end up inheriting from Pegasus?" Seto asked, hours later.

The pair was on a sofa in the lounge. Somehow, Yami's feet had weaseled their way onto Seto's lap. Seto, upon noticing, glared at them and wondered just when they had ended up where they were.

Yami, reading a book, had ignored the venomous look and turned a page. Now, he peered over the top edge. His eyes rolled up, thoughtful, before they peered back to Seto.

"Hm, well, I've noticed you have an elongated tongue, somewhat resembling a Strigoi stinger."

Seto frowned, rolled his tongue around the confines of his mouth. It didn't feel any longer. Now, curiosity piqued, he stuck the appendage out.

He could touch his nose.

"Hn." Disturbing.

Yami's fingers drummed on the covers of his book. "And I would also say that your blood is a little thicker than mine, a little darker." He tilted his head to the side. "I think that's about it."

"Good," Seto grunted.

A comfortable silence fell, the only sound the turning of pages.

Seto closed his book. "How many different kinds of vampire are there?"

Yami blinked at him.

This was the first time Seto had shown interest in such a subject.

"Countless," Yami replied. "As humans from different areas turned, and the subsequent vampires adapted to their surroundings, it created an ever-increasing variety. In addition, as the generations grew further away from me, they lost power, the bloodlines gradually weakening."

"Hn." Seto exhaled. "What was Weevil?"

"Jiangshe, an order of vampire originating from China. They're fairly weak, and they have a blaring flaw; a few minutes after they feed, a fierce paralysis besets their entire body."

"How the hell did that come about? From an evolutionary perspective, I just can't understand how a bloodline can propagate when each individual could so easily be killed."

Yami nodded, "I can understand that concern. But the Jiangshe developed amazing speed and agility to scramble to safety as soon as they feed. They also became a little more secretive."

"'Amazing' speed and agility?" Seto echoed sarcastically.

Yami's lip quirked up. "In comparison to other orders of vampire about the same power level." It evolved into a toothy smirk. "Not so much in comparison to me."

Seto rolled his eyes. "I figured as much. You slaughtered them like they were merely animals."

"Well, they were certainly acting like animals," Yami chortled.

"You drained Weevil," Seto noted.

"Indeed I did. In combat, draining your enemy is a display of dominance, power. It is the ultimate shame to be drained without your permission," Yami replied.

Seto recalled the time, seemingly so long ago now, when he had shoved Yami against a wall, forcefully drank of Yami's blood.

Seto gritted his teeth, looked away. "I've drained you without your permission."

"Oh, Seto." Yami's feet slipped from his lap, and the cushions shifted as Yami crawled closer. His cool hand cupped Seto's cheek, and he turned Seto back to him. "Don't be silly," he murmured. "If I didn't want it, you most certainly would have known."

A blush tinted Seto's cheeks. Those violet eyes were molten with warmth. He couldn't help how his eyes dropped to those red lips.

Yami's eyes widened marginally, and he began to draw away.

Seto latches onto his wrist.

"I was serious earlier," Seto replied, gritty. "About wanting you to feed from me."

"Seto…"

"Do you not want to?" Seto asked gruffly.

Yami shook his head. "That is not the issue."

Seto released Yami's wrist. "Then what is the issue? Explain it to me."

Yami's eyes searched his face, but no words passed his lips.

Seto stood abruptly. He moved to walk away.

Yami was the one that reached out.

His small, slender fingers wrapped around Seto's tense forearm. A firm yank, and Seto was falling back into the cushions. Yami was suddenly straddling him. Slender, firm.

"You want me to bite you?" Yami asked, face intense and eyes red but voice monotonous. "How do you want me to do it?" His hand slithered into Seto's hair. Seto gasped, his head wrenched back, and Yami's cold breath fanned on his exposed throat. "Like I would my enemies?" Fangs, freakishly long, scraped over Seto's flesh. "Like I would my prey?" Now, lips, ghosts of touches as they moved. "Like I would my lovers?"

Seto shuddered, panting. "Any."

All of it. Give it all to me.

Yami's nose traced up a tendon. "Any?"

"Yes," Seto breathed out.

Firm nuzzles, and Seto jolted at the sensation of a tongue swiping over his flesh. Yami chuckled. "Do I not want to? Hm, you've not the faintest clue." Cold breath fogged on his saliva-dampened skin. "Not the faintest."

Seto clutched at Yami's slender waist. "D-Do it already." His skin tingled where Yami had licked him.

A topical anesthetic. It was going to happen.

Still, it stung slightly when Yami's fangs pierced his flesh. They slid deep, punctured veins and muscles. He could smell his own blood staining the air.

And then Yami began drawing from him.

The pull, tingling, tugged all the way from his fingertips and toes. It felt… good. His breath caught, stuttering, and his spine bowed.

Oh god.

Yami pulled back, tongue swiping again, before he bit down once more.

Seto bit back a moan. It felt like his every nerve was being relentlessly caressed by the most sinful hands. Yami's touched moved to his back, drew Seto closer to him. Seto's own fingers curled hard into Yami's waist. Firm muscle resisted his kneading. Seto tipped his head back against the couch cushions.

Sweat. Hot sweat.

Yami was a brand on his lap. White-hot lightning, smoldering breaths. Yes, beneath the shirt under Seto's fingers, Yami was burning as he consumed Seto.

One last, hard draw that made Seto twitch, and Yami threw himself to the side.

Hot panting filled the lounge.

Seto looked to Yami.

Those pale cheeks were flushed, eyes bright, fangs shortening and a little trickle of blood twining from the corner of his mouth. A pink tongue flashed out to lap it up.

"You… you taste like me," Yami breathed.

Seto snapped his head away, gritted his teeth hard.

He wondered furiously if Yami ever thought before he spoke.

"Hn, I fucking wonder why," Seto responded sarcastically.

Yami suddenly crawled closer once more. He emanated warmth like a torch. Yami's tongue, heated, laved gently over the bite wounds.

Seto hummed, tilted his head away, bared his throat.

"It's… uncanny," Yami murmured against Seto's neck. "I am honestly a little unnerved."

Seto scoffed. "C'mon. It can't be that close."

Yami leaned back, frowned right up at Seto. "It is that close."

Seto laughed, both at Yami's befuddlement and his deadpan response. "How can you tell? How often do you taste your own blood?"

Yami's lips twisted to one side. "You have a point."

"Of course I do."

Yami dragged a nail over his own wrist, watched with a blank face as his blood sprang up eagerly. The dark liquid unfurled like a wing on Yami's pale flesh.

Quickly, he lapped it up to keep it from dripping onto the sofa. His brows furrowed, eyes squeezed closed. He was concentrating on the flavor.

Seto found the situation, oddly, both amusing and sensual.

"Very close," Yami muttered. "A slight difference, but it's incredibly close."

A bead of blood threatened to drop off of Yami's forearm.

It gleamed like a dark ruby.

Seto took Yami's hand in his, brought his arm to his mouth. Blue eyes locked with purple, and Seto traced his tongue up the dark rivulet on Yami's lean forearm.

"Hm, I don't know. Not quite enough to warrant awe," Seto murmured, mouthed more of the red mess off that pale skin.

Yami sounded breathless. "And what do you know of your own taste?"

Seto chuckled, teethed teasingly. "Enough."

Yami's head was leaning on Seto's shoulder. "If you want, Seto, you can feed from me." His free hand brushed Seto's waist. "You were already exhausted, and I took quite a bit from you."

Yami's wound was already closing, and his wrist was clean of blood but shining with saliva. Seto released his arm, but turned, gripped Yami's chin. Their breaths, a fading warmth, mixed.

"It's not your blood I want," Seto murmured.

Purple, gleaming eyes blinked up at him.

Seto's thumb brushed that red lower lip, stained darker by blood.

"Seto…"

Their noses skimmed one another.

"Do you not want to?" Seto asked. His breath trembled from desire too long restrained.

Yami, on all fours on the sofa, one hand on Seto's knee, seemed to be tensed and melting all at the same time. "That's not the issue."

"Then what's the issue? Explain it to me."

Their lips were a hair's breadth away from touching. "I want to. I want you." Yami's deep voice was a broken whimper. "But…"

"But what?" Seto whispered. "I want you. You want me. We've… we've been dancing around this for a while."

"We have," Yami conceded, hand tightening on Seto's knee. "But you're just a fledgling. I don't want you to mistake your dependence for romantic intentions. I…" A deep breath. "I don't want to take advantage of you."

Seto scoffed. "Jesus Christ, Yami. Taking advantage of me? Not likely. Do you know how many times I've wanted to grope the fuck out of you?" He leaned their foreheads together. "At least have enough confidence in me to believe that I know what I'm feeling."

Yami laughed, rubbed his nose against Seto's. "Is that all you want? To grope me?" he asked, somewhat teasing and somewhat genuine.

Is it just sexual for you? Seto could hear the unspoken question.

"No, that's not all I want. I also want to canoodle the fuck out of you," Seto conceded. And he cupped Yami's warm cheeks in his hands. "Listen to me, wanting to canoodle with the almighty vampire lord."

"I like canoodling," Yami murmured, and he shifted a little closer as if to demonstrate that.

"I know," Seto replied.

"Seto…" Yami whispered again, this time sweet and hitching.

Their lips touched.

He dragged her in by her hair. Tears stained her face, her lips dry from screaming.

"So this is what the Items need to restore their power?" a man standing off the side whispered, intrigued and disturbed.

"Yes."

She was now bound and gagged, battered and bruised. The white-haired man set her roughly to her knees, wrenched her head back. Her body bowed painfully from the force. A blade sliced across her throat, and the blood welled and spurted and stained everything red.

"Human sacrifice."

If she didn't bleed out, she died from drowning in her own blood.

"We'll need them as powerful as they can get to complete the ritual when the time comes."

END PART

OMG it finally happened! And then I cut it off because I'm a sadist {:K (That's supposed to be a demon face but I don't care to look up how to do it properly)

I love all you guys, from the silent readers to my more vocal ones out there. I doubt I would have gotten this far without you guys.