Part Nine

There was a particularly large gathering at one of the public Beystadiums in the middle of town. The organisers had been planning it for weeks, and of course, Robert had heard about it.

He had written off the idea of attending, but that was before Michael's visit, and subsequent incidents at the hands of his family... and his enemy. He really had no idea how to make someone happy, but perhaps that would be a good start?

It was a rare treat for the German Beyblading community when their champion descended from his reclusive castle to mingle with the masses. It was made doubly exciting by him being in the company of an American All Star.

Gossip about their relationship was the domain of cheap magazines. The only thing their hopeful rivals cared about was if the legendary Robert would decide to battle today. He was not an approachable person at the best of times, so no one in the crowd was brave enough to ask.

The famous pair watched a few matches, and Robert could feel Michael itching to join in. As another battle ended, the younger boy couldn't hold himself back any longer. He rushed forward, and Robert was quick to grab him by his bandaged hand; his grip firm enough to show he cared, but soft enough to avoid pressure on his bruises.

"I do not want you to get hurt any more than you already are."

"I'll be okay, Dad." Michael teased. "They don't call me a switch hitter just because I-"

He stopped himself, realising the euphemism would go completely over Robert's innocent head.

"Because you what?"

"It's fine. I can shoot left-handed."

He was grinning as he pushed through the crowd, announcing himself in the absence of DJ Jazzman. The previous night, he had been the centre of attention for all the wrong reasons. Surrounded by his own people, he was in his element.

Robert would not lower himself to verse anyone he deemed unworthy, so he stood back and observed. Arms crossed and a frown creasing his brow; he was the complete opposite of Michael, who was just as excited to be there as the beginners.

The All Star laughed with the crowd, mingling with them like he wasn't American Beyblading royalty. The shameless arrogance was still there, and in this amateur environment, he had the skill to back it up.

He wasn't playing for the challenge; he was playing for the fun of it. He was definitely more show than substance, Robert noted as he watched in grim silence. Michael's opponents were too distracted by flashy moves to see just how weak his defence was.

He supposed the tactic worked on professional players as well, since Michael had earned himself such a prestigious title with so little actual talent in the dish. If he were to enter a European tournament, he would have been out in the preliminaries! There was no room for showmanship there - only quick, brutal battles.

Robert's frown softened at the realisation. Beyblading was his life, and anyone who didn't meet his standards was not worth his time, but... it was different with Michael. He loved him beyond whatever loyalty he felt toward the sport.

The All Star won most of his rounds, tying with some of the more aggressive challengers, and he never stopped smiling. Robert didn't understand it, but it didn't mean he couldn't enjoy it. He loved his boyfriend's smile - not that he would ever show just how much it made his pulse race.

With his heartbeat throbbing in his ears, the knight felt a cold presence behind him; a hand lingering just above his shoulder, as if wary to touch him. A fan with no personal space? No... someone else. Something else.

"Can you feel how fast your blood is pumping? I can hear it - the way that delicious boy affects you."

He turned around, meeting the cold stare of his nemesis - a man he had sent down a cursed path by defeating him so utterly. A remnant of his past he couldn't set right, nor escape from, it seemed. He never cared to ask what his name had once been, but he knew it well now.

"Sanguinex. You are getting bolder."

"And you are getting careless, Robert." The vampire's face made a mockery of a smile. "You are a difficult man to contact. I have stopped by your castle on numerous occasions, hoping that I might speak with you."

His teammates could come and go wherever they pleased, but his own curse was different. Sanguinex had learned certain loopholes, such as going under bodies of water instead of over them, but he had never found one for entering a property uninvited. The vampire had been kept out of Jürgens Castle's grounds with that one rule.

"I do not associate with monsters."

"How very rude! And when I've come all this way just to see how happy you are with your handsome lover."

"You are playing a dangerous game." The young lord said sourly. "And I will never lose to such an unworthy opponent."

Sanguinex bristled at the insult. "I am much stronger than I used to be."

"And still far beneath me if you need to attack someone else." Robert's bravado was so thin, he could barely hide how worried he was for Michael's safety.

He hated having a weakness! He would have to be careful.

"I am impressed, Robert. You've done well to not let him out of your sight - until last night. I have been waiting two long years to finally... meet him."

"Your quarrel is with me. Leave him out it!"

"No." Sanguinex had tried to hurt Robert himself, to no avail, but now the knight had a visible vulnerability. "Your very association with him made him part of this! You do not get to pick a fight, and then make rules when you don't like the way I play."

"If you have one shred of honour-"
"I don't." The vampire cut him off. "Not any more; you saw to that."

Even from within the crowd, Michael felt a sudden chill in the air. He broke eye contact with Trygle for a second, looking over at Robert.

He was with the strange blader from the party - his friend, but not his friend, whatever that meant. It was difficult to tell what emotion Robert was expressing, since he was always frowning, but he looked angrier than usual.

The distraction gave the All Star's unranked opponent an opportunity to attack. It was a rookie mistake, and if Judy were there, Michael would never have heard the end of it! He was quick to regain his dominance. Whatever was happening outside the dish was not his concern.

"My curse prevents me from travelling to America." Sanguinex sighed. "It is very thoughtful of you to bring a taste of it to me here."

"He is not yours to touch!"

"Next time, it won't be your name he speaks when I kiss him. He will moan for me."

"Did you...?" The knight stuttered, the next words so horrific to his mouth, he couldn't bring himself to ask it.

"Don't be so crass, Robert. It was our first date; I want to leave something for the second."

"There will be no second!"

"I want him!" The vampire demanded like a spoiled child, his eyes wide and fierce. "I will take everything from you - just as you took everything from me. Aren't you as curious as I to know if a third bite will make him mine?"

Robert lashed out, grabbing his enemy by his cravat.

"I am sure we do not have to resort to physical violence. I only want a rematch."

"This was just to challenge me?"

"Battle me!" Sanguinex insisted.

"You assault my lover, and expect me to bow to your demands?"

"Your defeat was supposed to break my curse!"

"No, our defeat - meaning all four of us. It is not my fault you do not know how your own curse works." If Robert hadn't been so angry, he might have laughed. "You are almost as pitiable a vampire as you are a blader."

"You were all defeated! Honour the terms of the curse, and release me from it!"

"Have you forgotten that Oliver has never lost?"

"If the little one loses...?" The creature was taken aback by the realisation. "You will make him lose."

"I will not sabotage Oliver!"

"Then, you had better hope he loses on his own - soon."

It was a warning that could not be argued with. Sanguinex had vanished; his final word a taunting echo in the emptiness that remained in his stead.

Robert would never resort to underhanded or dishonourable tactics, and he certainly didn't want to trick Oliver into doing something that might damage the boy's reputation, but he had to get him to compete officially against someone better than him... and there were only two people he knew who could definitely beat him - himself, and Johnny.

They weren't a team, and they had never discussed entering anything as such. He owed no one his loyalty.

The World Championships were the next scheduled event on the international Beyblading calendar. With Judy's contract sitting in his drawer, he wouldn't be able to enter without destroying the best thing that had happened to him, but Johnny still could...

Whatever he had to do. Whatever it cost him. He would protect Michael.

To be Continued...