Author's Note:
1)This chapter will contain a moderately descriptive depiction of a sexual intercourse.
2)The chapter breaks here (excluding the first one) will be more of a change of PoVs, rather than advancement of timeline - they will all mostly overlap with one another in that regard.
With Dion driving the car, Bela and Daniela reclining in the backseats, the drive towards the nightclub should've been nothing but joyous. Yet Ethan found the atmosphere tense from his front passenger seat, as the redheaded driver asked the redheaded daughter the hard question.
"What's it like? Losing control of yourself?"
Apparently, Dion somehow learned about Daniela's condition - the uncontrollable bursts of murderous rage that would occasionally grip the kind-hearted girl, turning her into a merciless killing machine.
Ethan felt a spike of anger raising up from inside at the tone-deaf question. Bela must've shared the sentiment, as her own lips curled in ire. The eldest daughter opened her mouth, likely to tell the young man to mind his own business, perhaps even in colorful terms, yet a gentle hand on her shoulder stopped her.
"It's alright, sis… I don't wanna run away from it anymore." Daniela's voice was quiet, yet resolute.
Ethan glanced behind him to be able to see the speaker. Daniela had a thousand-yards look as she answered Dion's question, uncharacteristically for her - in a subdued, neutral tone.
"It feels like to be reduced to your most primal beginnings. To see nothing but red. To feel nothing but hunger and rage. So much hunger…Insatiable…Unrelenting...Hunger. But..."
Something changed in that moment in Daniela's gaze, as she gazed right into Ethan's eyes. Her voice had a spark of hope - hope of overcoming the inner beast, one day.
"The last time it happened - during the fight with that horrible little assassin… I didn't fight it - I embraced the beast because I wanted to tear that woman apart as much as it did. And… " the redhead nibbled on her lip, nervous. "...and it allowed me to remain in control, at least partially - I could direct its rage."
Bela gasped audibly, taking her sister into a hug, as she did so. "But that's amazing, Dani! Why have you kept that from us?"
"I was thinking about it, sis… but is it truly a good thing? Maybe it just wants me to become its mirror image - savage and vicious."
Ethan couldn't help but make an inquiry of his own, as something gnawed on the back of his mind. "That rage it feels… is it discriminate… or focused on something?"
Daniela's brows furrowed as she thought hard on it. "I think… I am not sure… but I feel like it's focused on the reason for its awakening - it wants to destroy it… to consume it utterly."
Noticing his own pondering gaze, Bela's soft tone was full of curiosity. "What are you thinking, Ethan?"
The man just shrugged, before offering an idea that was festering in his mind for a while.
"Since that creature is a part of you, I believe that you're able to influence it, Dani… but perhaps fighting it only makes it angrier...stronger… What if you were to accept it when it forces its way out of you… but instead of remaining on the sidelines, you were to think hard upon something you want it to focus on. An idea. A goal?"
"An interesting thought, Ethan…" Bela sounded intrigued, but Daniela merely giggled before noting in a once-again cheerful voice.
"I'll make sure to give it a try, next time it happens - I just hope it won't be any time soon, hah!"
"Amen to that."
"Damn, sorry for asking… didn't expect it to get this deep… welp… here we are!" Dion sounded sheepish, as he maneuvered their car into the club's parking lot.
The small company was quick to vacate their sedan, taking a glance at the establishment they were about to enter, in the process.
La Rose Noire didn't look like anything special from the outside - just a rather large, well-kept, three-story tall building. A small but quickly moving line of potential patrons was just outside the entrance, constantly being replenished by new arrivals.
Soon, the second car of their little procession had parked and its passengers disembarked. Chris had some words with Leon and John, who would be on standby, while Cassandra was swift to rejoin her sisters, making Ethan grin at the sight.
The Dimitrescu girls were dressed in nearly identical outfits - helpfully procured by Emily for the occasion - below knee dark leather boots; a two-piece black dress, consisting of a skirt - that showed just a bit of thigh, and a blouse - which hugged their curves tightly, while concealing their slender arms behind soft, semi-transparent fabric. Their graceful necks were decorated by silver necklaces - with small, tear-shaped gems of their respective favorite color - red, yellow and green.
Three pairs of familiar eyes stared back at him in amusement, now unusual in their coloration. Bela's calm and soft blue, Cassandra's fierce yet playful brown and Daniela's mischievous green.
Even though Ethan had grown to love their unique, piercing amber orbs, he couldn't help but wonder if these contact lenses mimicked their original eye color - before their rebirth as the Dimitrescu daughters.
"I think your man likes what he is seeing, sister." Cassandra's mocking voice failed to evoke any negative emotions in Ethan, this time. He couldn't help but note that he was not referred to as a 'man-thing' or even a 'human', but a relatively neutral - almost friendly - 'man'.
"He'd be a fool not to." Dion offered his own two cents, as he gaped at the three sisters himself, his own green eyes briefly glancing at Daniela's exposed thigh.
The three girls giggled in synchronicity, before their company was joined by Chris. "Shall we, ladies and gentlemen?"
"We shall." Cassandra was quick to assert, shamelessly attaching herself to Chris' side, with her slender arm snaking around his own muscular one. Bela repeated the gesture with Ethan - no hesitation whatsoever in her firm grip; while Daniela approached Dion, more shyly.
They all had to play their role as happy couples today, yet the emotions were genuine enough. Ethan couldn't suppress a small sigh of contentment as Bela's well-toned arm was intertwined with his own; while her blonde head leaned slightly on his shoulder. All kinds of warm and fuzzy feelings were racing throughout his body and mind at this wholesome contact.
Hand in hand with each other and with smiles on their faces, the gang proceeded inside.
Leaning against the car's door, Leon was puffing on a cigarette as his eyes followed the team until they vanished inside the club. Seeing the gang having passed the facial-recognition device equipped bouncer with no issues, the man let out a sigh of relief. Clearly, their little hacking scheme went off without a hitch, and just for tonight the dangerous international bioterrorists were turned into a middling group of British nobility, as well as their beautiful escorts.
Giving one last huff with his cigarette, the man let it fall to the ground, before stomping on it. Leon had never thought he'd pick up this particular unhealthy habit, yet the stresses of his life were many, and if a little intake of nicotine could help him get through the day in one piece - so be it.
To kill some time, Leon thought about starting a conversation with his partner for this night - John Perlman, a stoic man of few words - yet his eyes happened to glance across the side-view mirror of his car, changing his plans dramatically.
"Hey, John. Why don't you do a circle around the club, see if there are any suspicious people lurking about?"
The large Hound Wolf glanced at him with a measure of surprise, but quickly conceded to the request with a nod. John trusted Chris implicitly, and therefore if Chris trusted Leon, so would John.
A few moments after the large soldier disappeared behind the building's corner, a clicking of heels on the pavement preceded a familiar voice from sending shivers down Leon's spine - a fact that he was careful to conceal.
"Leon. Fancy running into you here. I see you're hanging back tonight."
"Perhaps I wanted to run into someone out here myself, Ada." Leon sounded far more cocky than he felt.
"Oh?" Her hot breath on his neck stretched the man's composure to its limits. "Are you implying that I've become predictable?"
Leon snickered, before finally turning his head to gaze at the woman. Clearly, Ada had not lost her love for red and black, if her today's dress was any indication.
"Nothing of the sort… yet, I'd like to think that I've learned a trick or two over the years of chasing you around."
Ada's lips curled into an amused smirk, which was mirrored by Leon's own. "So…you're here for our little friend as well, Ada?"
The striking woman took a moment to admire her nails, as she responded.
"Naturally. A high-value Connections defector is a treasure trove of compromising information. I'll have to properly thank my Chinese colleague for providing me with this tip, later."
Leon's expression hardened at that, with his voice reflecting his displeasure. "And what exactly are you going to do with that 'treasure trove'?"
Ada only scoffed, before providing the answer to the obvious question. "Do you even have to ask? We all are looking to advance our interests. The Connections got ahead, yet their competitors are many and are all looking for a way to close the gap. In the right hands, such information could be priceless."
Leon let out a scoff of his own, as he turned away from the woman, to glare at the nightclub, instead. "That's all you ever cared about, playing the big game of chess; preserving the status quo?"
The woman's own glare hardened at that, as she leveled an accusation Leon's way. "Oh? And what about you? A great hero of justice - seeking to bring an evil conglomerate down? You're still naive, Leon. Even if you manage to crush the Connections, you will solve nothing in the long term - someone else will simply fill the void left in their wake."
At her cynical outlook, Leon couldn't help but grit his teeth, before launching into a passionate tirade. "I am not stupid, Ada, I realise that. We won't win this fight by merely toppling the highest tower. Yet not only will we buy some time it takes for these scumbags to reorganize themselves, but we will also make an example - no matter how high they climb, none of them will ever be truly safe from the eventual justice."
Ada leisurely strolled around the car as Leon spoke, a slightly mocking smile never quite leaving her lips. As the man finished his little speech, she got right into his personal space, locking their gazes together, as she quietly muttered out a response, while softly caressing his cheek.
"Always so noble… my hero of justice…" Having stunned Leon into silence, the woman smirked, before offering a proposal. "I suppose I can be persuaded to let your guys have the defector…"
Regaining his wit, Leon sensually took hold of her lithe hand with his own, as his own voice took on a quiet tone. "And what would it take to persuade you?"
Ada pointed the index finger of her free hand up. "First, you'll provide me with a copy of whatever the defector decides to share with you. Knowledge is power, no matter how you swing it."
That was a tricky condition, yet by now Leon knew Ada well enough to be sure that she would not put such information to any truly sinister purposes. "Alright, I can live with that. What else?"
The woman grinned, before adjusting her position to whisper the demand right in his ear.
"A candlelight dinner in a five-star restaurant of your choice."
Leon couldn't help but feel heat creeping to his face at her sensual voice, especially with her hot breath licking his earlobe so pleasantly.
"I think… I can accommodate that request."
Ada planted a light peck on his lips at that, making the man shudder at the...not unwelcome contact.
"Excellent. I believe we have reached an accord then." Ada took several steps backwards, never taking her striking orbs of his own, even as she reached into her pocket to pull out a cellphone.
Giving Leon a playful wink, Ada swiftly dialed some number, before speaking into the cell with an authoritative voice that brooked no argument.
"Plans changed. Leave the package alone and proceed to the extraction point."
The woman ended the call just like that, not waiting for any confirmations or questions, making Leon raise a single eyebrow up. "You've got your own team now, huh?"
The woman just shrugged her graceful shoulders, before turning and starting to walk away. "Guess we've both moved up in the world, Leon. Catch you later, then!"
"Sure…"
As the striking woman in black and red faded from view, Leon's eyes returned back to the nightclub, even though his thoughts would linger on that particular person for the rest of the night.
Now inside La Rose Noire, Ethan was taken aback by the beauty and the sheer classiness of the place, as well as an energetic music that was saturating it. The colorful patrons only added to the overall upbeat atmosphere.
The club's interior was done with a no short amount of grandeur; the whole place was split into two tiers.
The large ground floor area served the majority of the guests, both as a dance floor as well as for a more relaxed, seated entertainment. Upon the slightly elevated and enclosed dance area, illuminated by a myriad of multicolored and rapidly shifting lights, the happy patrons were eagerly letting it all out. A number of private, lavishly-decorated rooms were lining the edges of the club.
Presumably acting as a VIP area, an elevated platform towered above the celebrating masses. Ornate, Corinthian-style columns supported the platform, giving it a noble vibe; several mean-looking bouncers kept careful watch on a singular glass staircase leading to the VIPs.
Ethan could only scratch his head at the apparent segregation in an already elite establishment. Assumingly, everyone present here was cream of European society. The man briefly wondered what was the criteria for separating those below from the fortunate few above. Was it closer ties to the enigmatic owner or merely relative wealth?
That train of thought was promptly stopped as a stunningly curvy brunette woman passed close by, making Ethan's eyes unwittingly drop down to gape at her barely covered, shapely rear.
The grip on his forearm suddenly tightened - almost painfully so, making the man's head shoot up and stare straight ahead.
Without any further incident, the small company proceeded towards an unoccupied leather coach at the edge of the lower tier. As they seated themselves, Ethan took a moment to glance at his companions.
Chris had a perfectly neutral expression, yet his sharp eyes were working the crowd furiously, trying in vain to locate the person of interest.
Bela, Cassandra and Dion had an excited spark in their eyes, even as they tried to maintain their composure.
Daniela, however, appeared not much different from a young child who's been taken to an amusement park for the first time in her life. The redheaded Dimitrescu's wide-open, unfamiliarly viridian orbs soaked every little detail this newest, amazing environment had to offer. With her mouth slightly open in awe, the youngest vampire sibling simply couldn't get enough of all the gorgeous dresses the women were wearing; the colorful, shifting lights; the peculiar mix of internal architecture.
Smiling gently at her youngest sister, but barely able to contain her own amazement, Bela quietly asked Chris a question that was burning on all of their minds.
"So...what now, Chris?"
The captain merely smirked, as he beheld their awe-struck expressions.
"The meeting is scheduled to take place in an hour… for now… act natural, while I wait here. Disregard that. I'll wait by the counter, instead - a better observation spot."
Having said that, Chris stood up and briskly walked towards the bar, immediately ordering an alcoholic drink of some kind.
"I suppose we should just...have fun?" Ethan attempted meekly, yet that was exactly what the rest of them were waiting for.
"Fun..?" Daniela mumbled out, as if not believing her luck.
Bela, unable to hold her own adoration for the redhead's undeniable cuteness, just cooed as she pinched her cheek, before offering advice on how to achieve that aforementioned fun.
"Perhaps it's time you put all the dancing practice you went through to an actual use, dearest sister?"
Hearing that, Dion perked up, before sheepishly addressing Daniela. "You dance, my lady?"
Not meeting his eyes, the girl snickered as she answered. "Please...just Daniela is fine… and I am not sure you can call my spastic gyrations 'dancing'… but I try my best, heh!"
"I think that description fits what the people on the dance floor are doing right now, anyway. Shoo, already, you two." Cassandra's lack of tact was somehow an endearing feature at this moment, as she could not suppress a gentle smile aimed at her sister. With a wide grin of his own, Dion offered a single hand to Daniela, which the girl shyly accepted, before following him to the dance floor.
Cassandra's amused smile shifted to a displeased frown quite fast, however. "Ugh… my throat is so dry… who I wouldn't kill for some delicious man-blood right about now..."
Bela glanced at the brunette's with mild annoyance. "Cass, not here!" Cassandra utterly ignored her older sister, instead fixing her playful glare on Ethan.
"Why don't you be a good little man-thing and bring me some tequila? I doubt they have freshly-harvested blood on the menu, after all…"
Bela glanced at Ethan in curiosity, genuinely interested in how he would react to the rude demand. Ethan himself felt the need to reassert himself, as Cassandra was bound to walk all over him, if he'd allow it. With a grin, the man made a remark in good spirits.
"And here I assumed that a daughter of esteemed Lady Dimitrescu would know some manners!"
At his playful taunt, Bela happily played along. "Apparently, not all of us do, Ethan! Daniela does call our fiery sibling Crassandra for a reason, after all…"
"You..!" Cassandra narrowed her brown eyes as she all but hissed at Bela. The blonde sister merely smirked, as a delicate digit made a waving motion at the brunette's face.
"Prove us wrong, then!"
Cassandra merely scoffed as she folded her arms and turned her face away, to gaze at some painting on a wall next to her. After a few moments of silence, the woman sighed but let out what sounded like a genuine request.
"Ethan… would you be a dear and bring me some tequila, please?"
The man smiled, satisfied. "Sure thing, Cass."
"And a glass of red wine, preferably fruity, for me, please."
"Of course."
Ethan nodded, but lingered for a moment to give a small peck to Bela's cheek, making the woman giggle in contentment.
Joining Chris at the bar counter, Ethan ordered the requested drinks, as well as some whiskey for himself. A little bit not gonna get anyone drunk and we need to keep up appearances anyway…
"We sure got ourselves into one strange mess, haven't we?"
Chris addressed Ethan, making the father let out a sigh, before answering.
"Yeah… all this bullshit cat and mouse game… can't wait for it to be over with."
Chris only smirked, before motioning with his eyes at the two sisters lounging on their coach. "I meant them."
Ethan's eyes widened as comprehension dawned on him. "Oh."
The three drinks he had ordered came up, as well as the outrageous price tag. Grumbling in annoyance, the father forked up the required cash before returning to their little table.
The girls - both of them - accepted their drinks with gratitude, making Ethan briefly muse about Cassandra's newfound manners. A quiet yet pleasant conversation ensued, yet it was soon cut short by another motion from Chris. With a gentle smile, the man went back towards the counter, yet a peculiar scene made him take a small pause to observe it.
Gripped by pure joy, Daniela was spinning Dion around - his feet lifted off the floor. As amusing as the scene was, it was also eyebrow-raising, since a slender girl lifting a bigger man, with apparently no effort, was not a common sight.
Seeing the number of fellow dancers gawking at them. Dion was quick to get Daniela to put him back on solid ground again, while laughing sheepishly and loudly making an excuse on the spot, not forgetting to use her alias for tonight.
"Damn, Diana, that weightlifting hobby of yours is really paying off!"
The gawkers quickly lost interest, while Ethan breathed a sigh of relief at the redheaded man's sharp wit as well as Daniela's choice of attire. Were her lithe arms visible, such an excuse would not have been swallowed so easily.
Chris didn't hesitate to inconspicuously motion towards three different groups - occupying coaches in opposite corners, as Ethan approached him. The shorter man's breath got caught in his throat as he took in the details.
The first group consisted of three Caucasian, mean-looking males, exuding a sense of silent menace.
The second was made of two males and two females, all of whom appeared to be of Asian descent. They seemed somewhat less rough, yet no less deadly than the first group.
The only thing the two groups shared in common was their hawk-like gazes, directed at the VIP area.
"Our 'friends' - the Russians and the Chinese."
"Are they going to be a problem, you think?"
"Possible, yet I think it's more likely than our friend the defector is simply playing hard to get. China has been mingling with the Connections themselves and I really doubt that he is particularly eager for famous Russian hospitality. The man has to realize that his best long-term prospects lie with us."
Finally, the third group Chris motioned towards - which consisted of an interesting mix of genders and nationalities stood up after receiving a call, and headed for the exit. These people had an aura of danger, and Ethan was quite glad that they were departing without causing any trouble, yet Chris did not even mention who they were supposed to be, despite tracking their every movement with his keen eyes.
As the dangerous-looking people faded from view, a comfortable silence ensued and after a minute or two, Ethan was about to head back to the girls. Before he could do so, however, Chris' eyes narrowed, and Ethan could see why as he followed the older man's gaze.
A pair of young, objectively handsome men had approached Bela and Cassandra and were now having what appeared to be a pleasant conversation with them.
Before too long, the Dimitrescu pair stood up and followed the young men to the dance floor. As if to spite Chris and Ethan, the music changed from energetic to a more slow-paced, almost romantic song.
Chris' mouth went into a thin line as one man put his hand over Cassandra's slim waist. Ethan's fists clenched as another had his arms all over Bela's back.
Neither Chris nor Ethan missed a mischievous smirk the brunette Dimitrescu shot their way, as she swirled around with her newest suitor.
Whether by chance or design, the dancing pairs inevitably edged closer and closer towards the bar's counter, where the two grumpy men watched them with sullen expressions.
Once the girls and their dance partners were in earshot, Ethan could tell that they were conversing in fluent French - with happy smiles on their faces as they discussed topics in a language Ethan couldn't comprehend.
In an uncharacteristic fit of jealousy Ethan downed his whiskey in one go, before slamming the glass against the counter and marching right towards the blonde that had stolen his heart.
Overtaken by possessive rage, Ethan spewed out words were almost akin to growling, completely butchering the proper pronunciation.
"Excuse me, monsieur - this mademoiselle is taken for this evening!"
To his credit, the young man with slick hair done in a stylish pony-tail did not let go of his catch without a fight, as he responded with no small amount of derision in his accented English.
"Why don't you go look for someone your age, gramps?"
Fuming, Ethan was about to come with a biting retort of his own - ready to start a fight even, yet Bela's calming presence came to stand in between the two men, a gentle hand on each of their shoulders.
"Sorry, Louise - Harry is my date for the night… but maybe we can catch up later…" The blonde vampire proceeded to place a quick peck on Louise's cheek, making blood boil in Ethan's veins.
Completely befuddled - almost enraged even - by Bela's response, Ethan struggled to remember that Harry was supposed to be him for this night. Gritting his teeth in envious anger, Ethan grabbed Bela by her arm, only to drag her into an unoccupied private room.
Locking the door behind them, the man's wide brown-gray eyes were firmly upon her own blue ones.
"Catch up later? What the hell, Bela?"
The woman gazed at him with mirth, even as she spoke in a calm and composed tone.
"Louise and his friend Jules approached us themselves - both of them are local boys who frequent this place. I thought that we could get close to them to learn a little more about the club and its owner. Advance the mission, you know." With mock surprise, the woman widened her eyes even as she hid her mouth behind her palms. "Why...were you...by any chance… jealous?"
The man didn't quite buy that excuse as he could - somehow - vividly picture Cassandra leaping at the opportunity to make Chris jealous, and convincing Bela to play along. Nevertheless, Ethan's only response was to assault her delectable neck with his lips. At the sensual contact, Bela let out a small moan of delight, even as she muttered out a question. "Do you remember what I told you back on the yacht?"
The man paused in his treatment of her neck to grunt out a reply, his ill-mood from before vanishing completely. "You've told me a lot of things on that poor yacht, Bells."
"You're mine." The blonde Dimitrescu clarified, making the man shudder from the intensity of her spoken word, before she finished that thought. "But that doesn't work one way only. I am yours. No smooth-talking French youth is going to change that, Ethan."
The passion of her voice awoke the man's hunger. Not thinking clearly, Ethan slammed his lips against her own - his tongue immediately demanding entrance, which she granted.
Before too long, however, Bela broke their kiss, only to roughly shove Ethan away - once again demonstrating her superior strength as such a simple gesture made the man plop onto the leather coach.
As she gazed at him with fiery passion, the woman muttered out a sentence that sent a shiver of anticipation down Ethan's spine.
"I see you did not enjoy the sight of Louise and me together on that dance floor. Let me make it up to you."
With no hesitation or sense of modesty, Bela climbed on top of a small table in the middle of the private room, before her deft fingers set to work on her blouse - unbuttoning it and removing it in seconds. The piece of clothing was promptly sent flying right into Ethan's face, making the man take a deep breath of her perfume's fruity fragrance.
The moment he put the blouse away, his face was struck by her black bra, which was similarly discarded. Sniffing the article of clothing with unrestrained delight, Ethan's breath was caught in his throat as he beheld the majestic visage that was now open to him.
With her hand on her hip, Bela stood straight on the glass table; her chin held high as a self-satisfied smirk graced her features. Ethan could do nothing but silently - with slightly parted lips - admire the perky breasts, the well-toned midriff, the thin yet healthy waistline of the confident woman. His hungry eyes roamed all across her exposed upper body, unable to fixate on a single feature - as all of them demanded his attention.
As if not yet satisfied with the level of attention the man was paying her, with a slow, sensual motion, Bela initiated a dance that got Ethan nether region hardened from the sheer sexiness of it.
In this moment of time, absolutely nothing else existed for Ethan in the whole wide world. Not the Connections, or his own status as an international criminal. Not Mia and the potential happy life they could've led. Not his numerous wounds that still ached or innumerable life-threatening situations he got into. Not the uncertain future, full of peril. Only Bela.
With bated breath, Ethan observed the sensual dance Bela was performing - just for him. His starved eyes were glued to her bouncing breasts, as she knelt only to stand up straight again, only to repeat the motion. When the woman shifted her movements to a more horizontal style - with graceful, full-body rotations, Ethan couldn't get enough of her slender yet well-toned arms, so delicate in their erotic motions.
It took more than a single moment for his lust-crazed brain to process a husky question, directed his way. It took several more for him to realize that she was addressing him.
"Are you enjoying the view, Mr. Hastings?"
"Very much so, Ms. Taylor."
Pleased at his wit, the woman continued the mesmerizing dance.
Suddenly, a familiar presence appeared in the back of Ethan's head - a light buzzing of a sort.
Daddy, I've been thinking hard and that Anna woman is really sus. Could you do me a favor and…
Making an annoyed grimace that made Bela's own eyebrows raise in surprise, Ethan thought back at the ghost who disturbed him at such an inopportune time.
Not now, Eveline! You and Rose should both be asleep now!
But...
No buts! Sleep. NOW!
Fine, I'll just handle it on my own!
The buzzing receded, leaving Ethan and Bela alone in the private room, once again. The perceptive woman on the table leveled a questioning gaze his way, making Ethan scratch his head as he tried to come with an excuse. After a few moments, the father merely sighed and went with the truth.
"Ugh… it was Eveline… she wanted something, but I just told her to go to sleep."
Bela's mouth adopted that cute 'O' shape. After pondering on that response for a bit, the woman inquired further. "It wasn't something important?"
Ethan waved his hand, dismissing her concerns. "Nah, Evie just got trust issues - which makes perfect sense if you know her history… still, she will have to learn to trust people one day, might as well start now."
Bela hummed, conceding the point, before kneeling on the table - getting on the same eye-level as Ethan, crawling a bit forward and slamming her lips tight against his own.
With both of them now lost in throes of lust, the duo managed to rearrange themselves on the soft leather coach of the private room, never breaking their frenzied make out session.
Seeing the desire in his eyes, Bela did not question the wisdom of performing this most intimate of acts in such an inappropriate place. Her own body betrayed her rational mind, with her core growing hotter by the second in its lust for his presence inside of it.
They were both desperate to continue where they had left it off on the ship - before it blew up.
Breaking their kiss, Ethan mumbled out a simple sentence that nevertheless made Bela's black heart skip a beat.
"I love you, Bela Dimitrescu."
A beat of silence passed, as the woman's tongue betrayed her; her mind in a daze from the stupefying sentence.
How was it possible that she - a monster who had slain countless innocent people - was loved by anyone from beyond her family? By an outsider who was to be their next victim on that fateful day, so long ago now - no less. The very idea that she was worthy of being loved appeared ridiculous to her logical mind. Yet Ethan's words had not a speck of dishonesty in them, as his loving, beautiful eyes gazed at her with nothing but warmth and affection.
And her heart returned all the feelings the man had for her, in kind. For this brave, kind-hearted man who had evoked the best in her sisters, as well as in herself. For this foolhardy human who never met a challenge he would not dare to face when the fate of his loved ones was on the line. Her own words mirrored the conviction of his declaration.
"And I love you, Ethan Winters."
That was all the affirmation Ethan needed and he was swift to rearrange their bodies once again, with Bela ending up laying on the soft leather sofa as she nibbled her lip and watched his every move.
Giving the gorgeous woman another loving peck, Ethan's hands worked on sliding her skirt down her well-toned legs. His own hungry eyes did not miss any details as they desperately attempted to take in all of her majestic body.
As her own hands worked on unbuckling his belt, Ethan could not resist the temptation of exploring the bountiful expanse of her pale flesh before him with his mouth.
The innocent peck at her foundation-covered forehead was succeeded by a passionate kiss on her lovely nose, only to morph into a series of kisses down her delicious neck. Going further down, giving the delicate shoulder blade the attention it deserved, the man lingered at her right breast - his mouth eager to taste the perky nipple, before letting his tongue explore the areola. Bela's shuddering body implied that she was quite a fan of this activity.
Giving the perfect mound of flesh one more passionate kiss, Ethan went down still, now trailing pecks down her well-toned midriff; giving her navel a lick and a puff, making the blonde woman let out a giggle.
The giggles quickly gave way to moans of pleasure, as Ethan's famished mouth reached her crotch.
As his lips graced the most intimate place of Bela with several tender kisses, the man noted her soaking wetness - which mirrored his own eagerness completely.
Letting out almost a beastial growl, Ethan's teeth bit into the offending fabric of her undergarments, only to drag them down her long legs.
The sight of Bela's glistering-wet womanhood, as well as her whimpers of impatience send the man over the edge.
Taking down his own pants and getting his manly tool out, Ethan smirked with satisfaction at the undeniable hunger that sparked in Bela's eyes at its sight. Yet there was a hint of uncertainty in her gaze. It made the man pause to ask the big question.
"Are you sure you want to do this, Bells?"
Bela nibbled on her lip for a bit before answering, with a shaky voice - she wanted it, badly, yet something caused her to hesitate.
"Yes! But…"
The contradictory statement brought nothing but confusion. The way she held her body, the lip gnawing, the fear in her eyes. Bela was afraid, but of what? Of being a subpar lover? The very notion was laughable. Was she afraid that he would hurt her?
Realization dawned on Ethan. Looking down at the huddled form of his lover, he understood that it was quite possibly a long time ago since she had last had sex with a man. Perhaps, a very long time. He could now finish the rest of her unspoken sentence. Something she could not say herself, for showing weakness was not the Dimitrescu way, even now.
"I'll be gentle."
Ethan mumbled out that sentence with so much affection that Bela eased her tense body immediately, as she nodded her head, slightly - giving her permission. "Thank you…"
Just as he promised, Ethan entered her waiting folds slowly, tenderly - merely testing the waters with his first thrusts.
Even with this tender pace, it felt absolutely divine to finally be within her. Despite never speaking about it, the man briefly entertained that very concept in his mind after their very first meeting - when she was nothing but a bloodsoaked, cannibalistic bug-monster that held him captive. That errant, alien thought was repulsive at the time, and he was disgusted with himself for even considering it, but now…
...now Ethan was in heaven.
Yet his throbbing organ wanted even more pleasure. It demanded for him to intensify the pace, to thrust deeper and harder. Nevertheless, fighting through his desire to fuck her like a wild animal, the man watched her face carefully - for her pleasure was just as important to Ethan as his own.
Bela's ethereal visage betrayed the depth of her own euphoria from the long-awaited act she denied to herself for so long. Gone was the stress and the worry that marred her porcelain face minutes ago - only rapture remained.
Emboldened by the sight, Ethan accelerated his motions just a bit, and her audible moans as well as his own amplified pleasure was the reward. The man briefly thought about how fortunate they were that the music in the main club area was once again loud and energetic - doing a splendid job of concealing their activity.
The feeling of her nails digging into his back as she held onto him as if for dear life made the man go faster yet. The start of her contractions was mirrored by her breathless pleading: "Don't stop…"
The man grinned, feeling his own orgasm close by and forehead sweaty. With a final, powerful thrust, they both came - nearly at the same time.
"Bela…"
"Ethan!"
The intensity of that orgasm made the man's breath leave his lungs and strength abandon his limbs. With his member still inside of her, the man plopped right on top of Bela; with their foreheads touching, the man could only gaze into her orbs. The love he felt for this strange, mutated woman in this moment was something he struggled to put into thoughts, but it was an avalanche of emotions. In this very instant, the man made himself a mental promise.
No matter what, I will protect you, Bela. With everything I have. With every single fiber of my being. I will protect you and yours.
The dreamy gaze Bela graced him in return implied a similar mental process going through that bright blonde head of hers.
Suddenly, the two lovers were interrupted by a loud bang against the private room's door, followed by Cassandra's frustrated voice. "We are done here, lovebirds! Let's get going!"
Ethan sighed as he tenderly caressed Bela's cheek with his right hand. Giving the woman's full lips one more loving kiss - which she returned eagerly, Ethan and Bela started their preparations to take the plunge right back into that uncaring cold world of theirs.
Seeing Ethan so unceremoniously drag Bela into a private room made Chris grin, yet he did not hurry to repeat the procedure with Cassandra. Even though his hands itched to forcefully separate the pompous-looking frenchman from his woman, the captain's rational mind reminded him that she was no such thing.
As much as he enjoyed his flings with her, and as much as he was sure that she enjoyed them herself, they were not a couple. Friends with benefits, perhaps. Regardless, he was not going to dictate whom she could embrace with. If she wanted to try her luck with some young punk, he's not going to be in her way.
Relaxing his tense posture somewhat, the large man attempted to enjoy his drink and several minutes went in relative peace and quiet. It did not last for too long, however, as Cassandra whispered something into her suitor's ear. The French man responded with a chuckle, as well as by squeezing her tight ass. Seeing the punk's vulgar gesture, followed by a taunting glare from Cassandra - directed right Chris' way - made the captain grit his teeth in silent fury.
Suddenly, a sound of cracking glass, followed by a spike of pain in his hand made him glance towards the appendage in question. Chris could only stifle a curse upon seeing the glass crushed in his deathly grip, with some fragments now embedded in his skin - drawing specks of blood.
Scoffing in both irritation and frustration, the captain made a motion to remove the shards as a presence came to tower over him, with a gruff voice to match the hulking frame.
"Richard Hastings?"
It took a moment too long for Chris' liking to recall that this was his name for the evening. Either he was finally going rusty or a certain brunette's mindgames were getting to him. Goddamn Cassandra…
Mentally cursing himself for allowing that woman to get to him, while on the job - no less, Chris turned his gaze towards the mountain of a man that was glaring down on him. A bouncer, if the brute's uniform was any indication. Despite the likely enormous difference in muscle mass between them - indeed, Chris was not sure that he could take on this goliath in terms of raw power even during his prime - the captain's tone was one of bored curiosity, not meek submission the bouncer was likely used to.
"That's right. Is there a problem?"
The bouncer struggled to speak in English, so Chris wasn't worried about him figuring out that his own accent was distinctly not British.
"No problem at all. Monsieur Dubois would like to speak with you, however."
Chris wasn't sure about what to think at hearing the club owner's name. Yet the invitation-bearer imposing bulk, as well as several other bouncers now glaring right at him implied that refusal might not go over too well with the locals.
With a resigned sigh, the captain nodded and followed the brute to the VIP area. Passing the dancers, Chris noted that Cassandra glanced at him with worry and apparently was about to make a motion to rejoin him - completely forgetting about her newest suitor. Chris dissuaded her from doing so with a shake of his head. The brunette Dimitrescu frowned, yet returned her attention back to the young man at her side - with remarkably less mirth in her eyes.
The lavish opulence of the VIP area - filled with expensive works of arts, was lost on the hardened B.S.A.A. captain, who took note of positioning of guards, instead.
Before long, Chris came to stand before a tall, well-built, middle-aged man with a chiseled jaw and piercing grey eyes. The owner of the club - Gerard Dubois glared at Chris with open derision, before scoffing and speaking in perfect English.
"Mr. Hastings… I see you've gained some weight over the years since the last time I've had the pleasure of your distinguished company. As well as 20 or so centimeters of height...impressive.
Chris smirked, not missing a beat with his response.
"I've been eating my veggies."
The owner tsked at Chris, before turning away to admire a painting, talking at him all the while.
"Ah, you Americans and your crass humor. I hope you do realize that the only reason I am not having your body disposed of in Paillon is our mutual acquaintance."
"I've figured as much."
Dubois turned back to glare at him with undisguised malice, asking a question Redfield knew he had to answer to go anywhere further.
"That last part can still happen at a single word from me." The sound of knuckle cracking, coming from the huge bouncer from behind Chris underlined the threat. "What happened to the real Hastings and his brothers?"
Chris eagerly provided the answer to that question.
"They are perfectly fine, if a bit frustrated, since their driver just keeps getting 'lost'."
Dubois made a mocking clapping motion, as if to say well played, yet spoke nothing further on the matter, instead he ended the clapping with a dramatic wave.
At that sign, an unassuming man stood up from his coach in a corner of the VIP lounge, before briskly moving right next to the captain, while offering his hand for a greeting.
"Thanks, Gerard. We are even now."
Gerard Dubois scoffed, waving them both away. "After this night is done, I'd advise either of you against ever showing your faces again around these parts."
The perfectly-average, boring-looking man simply smirked at the thinly-veiled threat, before fully turning his attention to the captain.
"James Sallow, a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Redfield."
The captain gave the shorter man a genuine smile, while accepting the handshake, happy to be done with the charade.
"Likewise, Mr. Sallow. Shall we get down to business?"
The defector nodded, a peculiar spark of grim determination in his eyes.
"Indeed. Time is against us, I believe. Gather your people and let us depart - there is much for us to discuss. I trust you have my money?"
"The briefcase waits for you in our car."
As they took the staircase down from the VIP area, Chris felt slight discomfort at the glares he received from the Russian and Chinese party - clearly, the foreign agents recognized him, as well as his partner as their prize. The captain only hoped that they were not sore losers and would not try anything rash right here. To their credit - they apparently weren't, as both groups merely stood up and briskly walked towards the exit. Still, Chris couldn't help but ponder aloud.
"What is really necessary for you to reach out to them, as well?"
James answered without missing a beat.
"Naturally. A man needs to have options, especially in a job as perilous as mine. I am not going to put all my eggs in one basket - not until I see that it takes me seriously."
Chris smirked at that, before noting the obvious. "I take it you were impressed by our little party here?"
The smaller man shuddered slightly, before responding. "Oh yes… The Dimitrescus and Mr. Winters were an...unexpected yet welcome addition to what I imagined the Americans would send. They have...proved their mettle in my eyes, so to speak."
At that point, Cassandra, who now stood at the edge of the club by herself - her suitor nowhere in sight - spotted both Chris and James and promptly rushed to join them. As the brunette Dimitrescu approached the pair, her sharp senses could not have possibly missed the bloodied hand the captain now sported.
Hilariously to Chris himself, the intimidating woman's stomach rumbled in hunger as her nostrils twitched at the likely-delicious scent of his vital fluid. A bit less amusing was the fact that Cassandra proceeded to unceremoniously grab his palm before having her mouth all over it, making sure to lick off every single speck of, mostly dried by now, blood.
Bemused, Chris questioned the whereabouts of her newest suitor. Cassandra responded in between her aggressive licking, even as she glared daggers at his own newest companion.
"Gone. Got scared after I showed him some pictures on my phone, I guess. These weren't even that bloody."
Before the captain could go into a heartfelt laughter at that revelation, Cassandra left his, now pristinely clean hand, alone, only to stomp towards James. Standing up to her full, impressive height, the fearsome woman glared down at the shorter man with nothing but malice.
The threatening tirade that followed made even Chris gulp.
"Look here, you little fucking rat. Since I can see from your beady little eyes that you know who I am, I am gonna skip the pleasantries. I don't care who the fuck you think you are, but know this - if you betray us like you did your previous owners, I will find you no matter where you hide. I will hang you by your own intestines as I'll drain your body dry, while stuffing your slit throat full of flesh-eating worms. And the kicker? I know how to keep you alive and screaming all throughout that wonderful procedure."
James visibly paled at her vivid descriptions, delivered in a hissing tone. To his credit, however, he stood his ground and his response was done in a mostly composed tone.
"As long as my demands are being met, none of you will have any troubles from me, Miss Dimitrescu."
Clearly not satisfied with that response, Cassandra's eyes widened in fury at the man's lack of submission. Before the situation could escalate further, Chris intervened.
"Everything is going according to plan, Cass. Go get your sisters and the men attached to them and let's get back to the cars."
Chris's calming tone had a truly magical effect on the fiery brunette, who immediately relaxed her tense, aggressive posture and went to do as told. Soon, the gang was reunited, though nobody could miss neither Bela and Ethan's flushed faces, nor Daniela and Dion's glowing ones. Chris was genuinely happy that at least his friends apparently had a hell of an evening.
As their company left the club without an incident and drove on its way towards the villa, Chris felt a sense of unease from his front passenger seat, even as he beheld the glorious sight that was provided by driving through the midnight Nice.
Everything is going smooth… perhaps too smooth? Nah… I am just thinking too hard about that.
Dismissing the unwarranted concerns, Chris relaxed into his comfy passenger seat as he felt firm yet gentle hands tenderly massaging his broad shoulders. Letting out a soft moan of pleasure from the caressing motions of the backseat passenger, Chris felt his worries melt.
Cassandra can be surprisingly considerate and even...dare I say… nice, when she wants to be…
The rest of their ride back to the safehouse proceeded in relative peace and quiet; with Chris spending it pondering upon the apparently bright future. Once they brought down The Connections and their benefactors, he was bound for a nice and long vacation...somewhere warm - maybe Hawaii? Perhaps even with a partner at his side…
"Wake up, Rosie."
"Mhmm… go away Evie, I am tired…"
"Wake up, sleepyhead! Our good-for-nothing daddy doesn't wanna help me, so we have to take it into our own hands!"
With an annoyed grunt, the tiny girl opened her tired eyes, only to beheld Eveline, standing near her bed.
"Mmm… what do you want?"
"A favor…"
Seeing her normally joyful friend adopt a serious, somber expression, Rosie stood up from her bed, giving the ghost her full attention - sleep quickly leaving her eyes.
"What favor?"
Eveline inspected the floor panels carefully as she meekly mumbled out a most peculiar and unnerving request.
"Go to the kitchen, please."
"Okay…"
Rose went down, as instructed. On their way to the kitchen, the duo passed the living room, where Lady Dimitrescu was completely absorbed into an ornate book of some kind.
With her tiny feet not making any sound, the girl got to the kitchen undetected; the few remaining adults in the safehouse were either asleep or on watch elsewhere.
"What now?"
Eveline sighed, before pointing towards the items of interest.
"Take a glass and a knife."
Again, the youngest Winters simply obeyed. It was a bit tricky to gather the items with her diminutive stature, but after some careful stool manipulation, the smart girl managed to achieve her goal. The next command sent chills running down her spine, however.
"Cut your wrist - right here," Eveline demonstrated where, exactly "And try to collect the blood into the glass."
"What? I am not doing that…" Rose gaped at Eveline in horror, suddenly uncomfortable from holding the sharp tool. The ghostly sister scoffed, before explaining the situation.
"Look. That Anna servant is super odd. There is something definitely wrong with her. Your blood - which carries my cells - will allow me to poke in her head a little bit. And don't worry - any cut you'll inflict on yourself - I'll heal it in moments."
"You wanna infect Anya… but daddy said that's a very bad thing to do!"
Again, Eveline just scoffed, as she folded her arms. "Not infect… at least not for long. If she is innocent, she will be fine, believe me! The worst that's gonna happen to her is a teensy fever as her body forces me out on itself."
Rose was still unconvinced, with her tiny mouth set in a thin, angry line. Eveline upped her game. "Look, nobody gonna get hurt if I am wrong… but if I am right, daddy will call us heroes! We will be the ones to save the day!"
The blonde daughter started to yield to her elder's logic, yet demanded one more reassurance. "You promise that you won't hurt her?"
The ghostly girl stepped forward, offering a single pinky finger.
"Pinky promise."
With some hesitation, Rose wrapped her own respective digit around Evie's pinky, conceding to the taller girl's demands.
Done with that ritual and with understandable anxiety, Rose brought the knife right next to her wrist. Eveline was quick to offer another reassurance, in a gentle, sisterly voice.
"It's alright, Rosie, I won't let you get really hurt, I swear it."
"Okay…"
With a wince, Rose made a shallow cut and the precious crimson liquid was quick to trickle down into the cup the girl was holding, though some of it dripped down on the floor.
Whimpering in pain, Rosie waited until Eveline decided that enough Winters blood had been spilled and sealed the small wound. It still hurt…
"You're a true hero, Rosie… I won't betray your trust! But...we are not done yet…"
Teary-eyed, Rose looked back at Eveline, who was quick to continue.
"I have just an idea about how we are going to get that blood inside Anna now...we will need to enlist outside assistance for that… Grandma Alcina should help us."
"Lady Dimitresqua is scary…" Rose found the noblewoman quite intimidating, naturally. Eveline would have none of it, however.
"Nonsense! Gran is a softy on the inside, I know it!"
With a resigned sigh, the poor girl proceeded towards the living room. Approaching Lady Dimitrescu slowly and cautiously, the girl greeted her meekly.
"Lady Dimitresqua… I am sorry, but we need your help."
"Shouldn't you be in bed like a good girl? Also, It's Dimitrescu, dear…" Alcina glanced from her book to behold Rose's sorry state. "Oh my!"
There was nothing but surprise in her wide amber orbs as she took in the child's frame: the bare feet in her nightgown, the bloodied arm clutching a knife, a glass of blood and swollen eyes.
"What has happened to you, child? Did you… cut yourself!?"
Alcina disregarded her book in a heartbeat, before hovering over Rose - inspecting her for damage, even as she awaited a response.
"I am fine, Lady Dimitrescu...but we need your help! Me and Eveline...she says it's very important…"
Taking the knife from Rose's unresisting fingers, Alcina could only demand clarification. "Help you with what, pray tell?"
Eveline was quick to propose her plan, which Rose faithfully repeated.
"Eveline thinks that Anna is a bad person who wants to do us harm, and so she wants to find out for sure - by using my blood to 'poke around in her head'. Could you...please mix this blood with some wine and offer it to her? She won't refuse you, for sure!"
Inspecting Rosie's arm and finding nothing but scar tissue there, Alcina cursed under her breath as she muttered something about already having enough inane plots of her daughters, yet gave in, in the end.
"Will that get you back into your bed, where you're supposed to be at this hour, young lady?"
"Yes!"
"Fine then."
With a resigned sigh, Alcina took the offered cup of blood, before escorting Rosie back to her bed, tucking her in and closing the door to the child's room.
Winters better be grateful to me for this!
Swallowing the indignity of acting as a servant for a servant, Alcina browsed through the villa's modest assortment of wine bottles - there were only two of them, in fact. Scoffing at the plebeian beverages and bemoaning the lack of her own Sanguis Virginis, Alcina selected the bottle.
Mixing the blood with wine, the Dimitrescu matriarch couldn't help but wonder at this most ironic and peculiar twist of fate, even as she marched towards the servant's room.
Author's Note:
So this was a pretty lengthy chapter, and a lengthier yet delay, yet I am quite happy with how it came out, in the end!
I'd love to hear your thoughts on it - feel free to comment on which part you liked the most, or the one you felt was lacking!
As always, I appreciate any kind of feedback, and if you have some suggestions or opinions to share, be my guest :)
Hopefully the next chapter will take me faster to write, but regardless of that, I wish everyone a great week! Stay safe out there!