Disclaimer: I don't own Underworld, and I don't own the characters created for the movie. The plot is mine, and Gerald and Derek are mine. That's all for now.
A/N: So sorry it's been so long. I've been busy with school stuff, and it's been majorly stressful. But hey, upside is, there's a new part! And here it is! Read and review, please J
-----------------
Michael dreamed. It was the first time since he had become what he was. He tossed and turned fitfully as images of Sonja and Lucien flashed before him. He'd seen the worst of it before, when he'd been sick and hallucinating after he'd been bitten. What he saw now were images of a love that had lasted for years…before the Elder had destroyed it. They were scenes of contentment, of two lovers walking through a field at dusk, hunting together, and making love to each other. He missed that sensation desperately. His wife…but she was gone. He'd watched her die. What he felt for Selene…it was a pale flame compared to the inferno of that ancient love. Perhaps it would grow, given time.
Michael moaned as his dreams turned violent. The moon called to him, urging him—no, the beast—to hunt. To feel bones snap and muscle tear, to taste hot blood as the life drained from helpless prey. He might be a hybrid, but he was lycan first, and that would always be the stronger side of his nature. It could be that was why he felt so responsible for the decimated lycans. Lucien's memories urged him to take command, but Michael wasn't ready for that. The responsibility of ensuring the welfare of an entire species….
The moon called again, and his skin prickled. He dreamed he was in a dark chamber with a throne at one end and three metal seals imbedded in the marble floor. Each was intricately wrought, and emblazoned with a different letter. A, V…M. Marcus. Michael could feel his pulse quicken as he realized what this room was. The Crypt. Where the ancients slumbered when they did not rule, and ruled when they did not slumber. Yet now only one remained….
Blood pooled on the intricate seals, and drained into the area beneath them. Drained into the mouth of the last Elder, who opened his eyes. And Michael dreamed that they bore an uncanny similarity to his own. They were the eyes of a hybrid.
Michael awoke with a start, soaked in sweat. His flesh felt unnaturally cool and clammy to the touch. He had to know if he had dreamed truly, or if it was just the result of stress. He glanced over at Selene, who, despite her desire to stand guard, had fallen asleep in the chair opposite the door. Even in sleep she looked coolly in control. Michael smiled sadly as he gently lifted her onto the bed. Intellectually, he knew that she couldn't feel the cold like he did, but he covered her with the blanket nonetheless.
There was only one window in the room, and it faced the darkened street two floors below, ideal for viewing passers-by and keeping watch for any who might wish them harm. Michael turned the chair to face the narrow window and sat down, watching the rain drizzle down.
He was deeply disturbed by his dreams. The visions of Lucien and Sonja he knew to be true, actual flashes of their past together…but the dreams of Marcus, the slumbering Elder? It seemed impossible. Although he didn't know much about vampires, he had never seen any evidence to suggest that they were telepathic. And yet he had dreamed in such perfect detail, it had not felt at all like a dream. If he closed his eyes, he could still see the blood-soaked seal in his mind. It hadn't felt like a dream, but it hadn't felt like a memory either. However, if it had happened, and there was another hybrid in the world, Michael would soon have a powerful ally…or an unbeatable enemy.
Michael knew they couldn't hide in this place forever, constantly watching their backs, and he was slowly coming to the realization of what that meant for him. Sometimes he could almost hear Lucien in his mind, pressuring him to lead. Fine, he thought forcefully at the mental apparition. You want me to take control? I'll start with this damn dream.
It was nearly daylight, a time when most of Ordoghaz slept, avoiding the deadly sun. Perhaps he could find a way inside.
He looked regretfully at the sleeping vampires. She's be pissed when she found out he'd gone off alone. Fuck it. It was time he started running his life again, instead of running for it. Throwing on his days old, still damp clothing, Michael silently slipped from the safe house, taking care not to awaken Selene. Good thing I learned to drive a stick, he thought as he hopped into the new Jag and sped off toward the Devil's House.