He slipped back out onto the balcony and stood looking down at the quiet street for a while, careless of danger. The warm wind carried the dark, brown aroma of the river, mixed in with the smoky scent from the streetlights and the faintest tang of blood. He smiled. He loved Vennstein. He loved the night, he loved the little mortals playing out their petty lives for his enjoyment. In the blink of an eye, he dropped down from the balcony into the street below.
"You scoundrel!" a sharp voice behind him said. He got up from his crouch without haste.
"Good evening, Zephon," he said in a controlled manner.
"And a good evening to you, Raziel," Zephon said, peeling out of the doorway of the mansion. "Strange thing I should meet you here, at the house of the respected merchant Valent. Had some late business to discuss, perhaps?"
"Perhaps." Raziel smiled, strolling down the middle of the street. Zephon followed him.
"With his daughter?" he inquired, his voice shrill and sharp like a bird's cry.
Raziel's smile widened further.
"What are you playing at, Raziel? Valent and his family enjoy immunity, you know that!" Zephon walked beside him, his fangs bared in an annoyed snarl.
"No one is immune to death," Raziel said dreamily. "They should have known that."
Zephon stopped dead in the street. "You...!" he exclaimed, and shook his head in disbelief. "You wouldn't."
Raziel turned around to face him, a superior smile on his face. His eyes spoke of a subtle threat.
"If Kain hears it was you," Zephon started.
" -- And from whom would the general gain that information, Zephon?" Raziel interrupted. He didn't wait to hear the answer.
.
With a sudden flash of movement, he lunged at his younger brother, closed one hand around his neck and flung him around to crash into a wall. Before Zephon could recover, he was there, pressed against him, one hand wrenching his head to the side, the other pinning his arm to the wall. He bit down hard. Zephon's flesh parted with a juicy crunch and blood spilled out onto Raziel's tongue. There was a struggle, will pitted against will as Raziel tried to command Zephon's blood out into his mouth. Zephon cried out, fighting a desperate struggle against Raziel's superior strength of mind. In the end, he succumbed as he knew he must. Blood gushed out of the wound, and Raziel drank greedily, as if his last meal was three nights away rather than three minutes. Zephon's blood was rich and slightly bitter, spiced with strong ale. Raziel groaned with pleasure, and remembered rather belatedly to let his brother go.
Zephon nearly fell to his knees. He leant against the wall, weakened by the sudden blood loss. Raziel was still pressed against him; he caressed the healing wound on Zephon's neck, a wanton grin on his lips.
"Seems like you enjoyed yourself too," he said, slurring his words slightly.
Zephon sneered at him haughtily. "What's wrong, brother, can't handle your ale?"
Raziel laughed softly, then leaned even closer to breathe in Zephon's ear, "You won't tell father, will you?"
Zephon squirmed, futilely trying to break free from Raziel's grasp. "It doesn't matter if I don't," he said, coldly. "He will know. Who else would break his law so brazenly!"
Raziel smiled warmly at him. "Hmm, you're right. He will find out eventually." He grinned broadly, displaying his fangs. "And he'll forgive me."
"Whore!"
Raziel pressed his lips against Zephon's mouth, gently, and Zephon could smell his own blood on Raziel's breath. Raziel grinned and pushed himself away from the wall, releasing his brother. "Well I'm glad that's settled. I rather think we --"
He was cut off by a rough cry from the end of the street. "Who goes there?"
The watch. They both stood and stared at the bright searchlight for a second, the acrid smell of the flammable oils on the wind. Time to go.
Raziel snapped round to find Zephon was already running. Raziel fled down a different street, dashing through the familiar alleyways, leading his human hunters on a merry chase through the city.
Zephon clambered up the city wall and ran along on top of it, hastily scrambling back down the tree they used to get into the city. He looked back now, just in time to see Raziel's dark outline appear against the night sky. Instead of running for the old oak however, he simply launched himself from the top of the wall. Zephon watched with perfect horror as he sailed through the air, his arms outspread, hovering over the dark water of the moat. He landed with an elegant roll on the grassy incline and ran on into the darkness without breaking his momentum.
"God damn it, Raziel, are you trying to kill yourself?" Zephon called after him.
Raziel turned and waited in the darkness under a tall tree. "What on earth gave you that impression?" he asked when Zephon caught up to him.
Zephon swiped an angry hand at the city walls behind them. "You think you can fly," he hissed angrily, "but you're going to fall very hard one night, my dear brother!"
Raziel chuckled, and looked up at the stars. "But not tonight..." he sang. Tonight, he was a God.
"You scoundrel!" a sharp voice behind him said. He got up from his crouch without haste.
"Good evening, Zephon," he said in a controlled manner.
"And a good evening to you, Raziel," Zephon said, peeling out of the doorway of the mansion. "Strange thing I should meet you here, at the house of the respected merchant Valent. Had some late business to discuss, perhaps?"
"Perhaps." Raziel smiled, strolling down the middle of the street. Zephon followed him.
"With his daughter?" he inquired, his voice shrill and sharp like a bird's cry.
Raziel's smile widened further.
"What are you playing at, Raziel? Valent and his family enjoy immunity, you know that!" Zephon walked beside him, his fangs bared in an annoyed snarl.
"No one is immune to death," Raziel said dreamily. "They should have known that."
Zephon stopped dead in the street. "You...!" he exclaimed, and shook his head in disbelief. "You wouldn't."
Raziel turned around to face him, a superior smile on his face. His eyes spoke of a subtle threat.
"If Kain hears it was you," Zephon started.
" -- And from whom would the general gain that information, Zephon?" Raziel interrupted. He didn't wait to hear the answer.
.
With a sudden flash of movement, he lunged at his younger brother, closed one hand around his neck and flung him around to crash into a wall. Before Zephon could recover, he was there, pressed against him, one hand wrenching his head to the side, the other pinning his arm to the wall. He bit down hard. Zephon's flesh parted with a juicy crunch and blood spilled out onto Raziel's tongue. There was a struggle, will pitted against will as Raziel tried to command Zephon's blood out into his mouth. Zephon cried out, fighting a desperate struggle against Raziel's superior strength of mind. In the end, he succumbed as he knew he must. Blood gushed out of the wound, and Raziel drank greedily, as if his last meal was three nights away rather than three minutes. Zephon's blood was rich and slightly bitter, spiced with strong ale. Raziel groaned with pleasure, and remembered rather belatedly to let his brother go.
Zephon nearly fell to his knees. He leant against the wall, weakened by the sudden blood loss. Raziel was still pressed against him; he caressed the healing wound on Zephon's neck, a wanton grin on his lips.
"Seems like you enjoyed yourself too," he said, slurring his words slightly.
Zephon sneered at him haughtily. "What's wrong, brother, can't handle your ale?"
Raziel laughed softly, then leaned even closer to breathe in Zephon's ear, "You won't tell father, will you?"
Zephon squirmed, futilely trying to break free from Raziel's grasp. "It doesn't matter if I don't," he said, coldly. "He will know. Who else would break his law so brazenly!"
Raziel smiled warmly at him. "Hmm, you're right. He will find out eventually." He grinned broadly, displaying his fangs. "And he'll forgive me."
"Whore!"
Raziel pressed his lips against Zephon's mouth, gently, and Zephon could smell his own blood on Raziel's breath. Raziel grinned and pushed himself away from the wall, releasing his brother. "Well I'm glad that's settled. I rather think we --"
He was cut off by a rough cry from the end of the street. "Who goes there?"
The watch. They both stood and stared at the bright searchlight for a second, the acrid smell of the flammable oils on the wind. Time to go.
Raziel snapped round to find Zephon was already running. Raziel fled down a different street, dashing through the familiar alleyways, leading his human hunters on a merry chase through the city.
Zephon clambered up the city wall and ran along on top of it, hastily scrambling back down the tree they used to get into the city. He looked back now, just in time to see Raziel's dark outline appear against the night sky. Instead of running for the old oak however, he simply launched himself from the top of the wall. Zephon watched with perfect horror as he sailed through the air, his arms outspread, hovering over the dark water of the moat. He landed with an elegant roll on the grassy incline and ran on into the darkness without breaking his momentum.
"God damn it, Raziel, are you trying to kill yourself?" Zephon called after him.
Raziel turned and waited in the darkness under a tall tree. "What on earth gave you that impression?" he asked when Zephon caught up to him.
Zephon swiped an angry hand at the city walls behind them. "You think you can fly," he hissed angrily, "but you're going to fall very hard one night, my dear brother!"
Raziel chuckled, and looked up at the stars. "But not tonight..." he sang. Tonight, he was a God.