A Thirst for Vengeance Ch. 4: A Bloody Standstill

By Erfaciel

Rating: R for YAOI, violence, implications of rape, and general nastiness.

A/N: Dear Gods, this story still exists?! * sweatdrops * I doubt that anyone's reading this, but if they are, thank you for hanging in there and I'm sooooooo sorry for not updating in like a year. This chapter seems to me to be a bit different from the others, and if I've made mistakes or caused OOCness, feel free to reprimand me! ^_~ Dedicated to Dean-chan, as always.

Disclaimer: If it were mine, would I even worry about OOCness? Didn't think so.

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The three gathered in the small room gasped collectively, only surprise preventing them from jumping the panting crewman. Bart was the first to act, propelling himself over a desk and grabbing the little slip of paper that held the name of his enemy.

"It can't be," he breathed. Despite his shock the harshly scrawled name remained, the black ink glaring from the stark white of the paper. Bart continued to stare, refusing to believe. He grabbed the man's collar in a fit of action. "Are you sure?!"

"Yes! Yes, sir. We checked a dozen times and he is the only one capable.."

"Bart!" Sigurd's stern cry broke Bart's choking hold. The man hastily backed away, rubbing his sore neck. "Tell us what it says." The older Fatima said calmly. Bart just glared and thrust the slip at his brother.

Margie and Sigurd started as he read the name aloud. "Radu Shakhan."

Just hearing the name was enough to make the young prince of Aveh shudder in rage. They had defeated a man of that name already, a piece of scum that didn't even deserve the simplistic burial that had been accorded to him. Bart clenched his teeth in a frightening grimace, remembering the suffering that had been dealt to him and his country at the hands of that monster. To think that someone was sick enough to lay claim to that name was hard to believe, but it was well nigh impossible to comprehend the twisted mind that would also want to kidnap an innocent soul like Billy Lee Black.

A calm voice and a gentle hand on his tense shoulder brought him back to reality. Margie's doll-like face smiled up at him, only the glimmer of tears in her eyes giving away her distress. They communicated wordlessly, Margie easing the inner turmoil of her rash cousin. When he was calm enough he smiled his thanks to her. He then turned to the still shaking crewman, fighting to keep from demanding answers. "Do we have anymore information?"

"We are looking my Lord," he started. He stopped, though, fearing another ambush from the tensed prince.

"Go on," Sigurd said kindly, stepping between him and the seething Bart.

"We do not know where he is, but some of the best minds are looking for a possible hideout. We've narrowed it down to five or six locations.."

"FIVE OR SIX?" Bart cried, unable to keep himself in check. "Five or six?! We don't have time-!"

"Thank you," Sigurd interrupted quickly, his eye on his irate younger brother. "Please come to us when you have more information. What was your name?"

"Sinn."

"Yes, Sinn. Thank you, that will be all." Sinn nodded, his sandy hair falling to cover his eyes as he beat a hasty retreat. He scurried down the hallway, hastily checking to see that he wasn't followed as he slid into his quarters.

"You're welcome," he smirked to the empty air as he sat at his desk. A strange device covered the surface, deceptive in its beauty. He knew the true nature of its gleaming gears, however, and was quick to start it up. His master would not be pleased if he was late with his report.

"Sinn," a calm voice echoed in his small chambers, "tell me what you have learned."

He related the meeting into a funnel shaped device, smiling at the pleased cackle that erupted from the other end of the line. "I believe they will shortly be on their way Master."

"Good," the voice was still filled with laughter, though it invoked cold chills rather than joy. "I am eager to see them, though our guest is not quite prepared."

Sinn laughed as well. "Do not worry Master, I have a plan." With that he snapped the machine closed, already assured of his Master's approval.

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The man turned away from his machine, smirking with the assumption of victory. Ah, the clever little princeling was on his way, was he? Everything was going according to plan…

Even his hostage was playing his part nicely.

Billy's breath was ragged, each one sounding harsh, as if ripped from his lungs. His proud head hung, chin kissing the unmarred skin over his chest. White hair was soaked with sweat and his eyes, if open, were glazed with pain that made his whole body feel like it was on fire. He was barely conscious, his mind fixed on the 'drip, drip' of his own warm blood upon the tile floor from between his now naked legs and his whip-marked back. The pattern burned itself into his ears, a small droplet and then a trickle, depending on which wound his breathing ripped open.

All in all, it was a beautiful sight, Radu thought.

"My little whore," he drawled, stepping slowly over the spreading crimson stain, "did you hear the good news? Lover boy is on his way."

Billy slowly raised his head, awareness dawning in his haunted eyes.

"But," he stopped in front of the boy, running a hand along his tear-stained cheek in a mockery of affection, "all he will find is a ruined shell of a slut. "He'll come, and when he does-"

"Shh," Radu silenced the ex-priest with a finger laid delicately over the pale lips. Billy glared; ready to bite the offending digit if that was his only recourse. His captor, however, just smiled. "Little boys shouldn't speak of what they don't know. Bartolomei is on his way, yes, but we still have time. After all, " his smile widened into a psychotic grimace, "I'm not done with you yet."

Billy growled. Pulling at his chains cracked the scabs on his raw back and caused pain to shoot threw his lower body but he didn't care, this bastard was going to kill him and use his death against the one person outside of his family that he had ever fully loved! He struggled, the room filled with violent clanking as he strove to reach Radu. The older man laughed. "I'll kill you!" Billy screamed, seeing that his struggle was futile.

"Tsk, tsk," Radu stepped back, surveying his victim like a wild animal did its prey. "You're a bit too lively I think. I do need you to be dying and broken rather than fighting. Our little hero needs to see you used like you were meant to be, whore." Fingers skimmed over Billy's flanks, drawing themselves through his blood. Billy hissed and jerked forward. Radu smacked him, drawing and a small cry from his victim. He then crossed briskly to a dark corner, mumbling to himself and picking up something that looked anything but harmless. "And I'm the one who's going to be doing the killing around here."

Billy tried to endure the beating without screaming, and he succeeded only by biting his lip until the coppery taste of blood filled his mouth. He refused to show any weakness anymore. If this maniac wanted him dead, fine. But he would never, never, let anyone see him broken. "I'm…not...going…to let…let you use me!" He gasped out.

His torturer smiled slowly, drawing back for a moment before commencing to beat his hapless victim harder than ever before. "We'll see about that."

Renewed screams filled the air, sounding like music to Radu's ears.

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He was just so frustrated! He didn't mean to pace and make his brother and cousin, who were watching him anxiously, dizzy, but he was restless and had to get it out of his system somehow. Bart fiddled with the end of his sun-kissed braid. Where was he? That damn crewman was supposed to be back with a location an hour ago-

"Sir!" Said crewman, whom Bart remembered was called Sinn, burst threw the door. He immediately found himself pinned to a wall for the second time that day with a very furious one-eyed gaze locked onto his face.

"You're late." The prince ground out. The other man managed a weak whimper.

Sigurd and Margie eyed each other and sighed. "Bart!" Margie called in a stern voice.

"What?"

"Get off of him before I have Sigurd drag you away and lock you in your room."

"You wouldn't!"

Margie raised a dark eyebrow and sagely nodded her head as Bart smiled disarmingly and let the man go. "Now," she turned to Sinn, "what news?"

"My Lady," Sinn bowed, "we have his location."

Bart was once again in his face, expression anxious but seemingly not angry. 'Where is he? How far away is it? Will it take long to get there?" Sinn merely handed him a map. He spread it out on a nearby table and followed the crewman's pointing finger as Margie and Sigurd crowded in around him. "That's nearly a two day's flight!"

Sigurd reprimanded him for whining and dismissed Sinn with quiet thanks. The man bowed and was almost to the door when the ship lurched violently and they were all thrown to the floor. Alarms shrieked and even Margie, not exactly the most experienced person when it came to ships, knew that they had crashed.

As Bart screamed for an update into the ship's intercom, Sinn smiled secretively behind his hand. "My best is done for you, Master."