CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

As he shut the car door, his body was humming, his skin prickling, his muscles twitching. He stretched out his arms, trying to buy himself a little relief. He wasn't surprised when it made no difference. His curse was throwing its weight around, taking him into dangerous territory. If he didn't get some kind of release soon, he was going to have a serious problem. Hell, he was going to be a serious problem.

He walked down the more shadier parts of town. Looking left and right, his laser-sharp eyes penetrating the darkness. As he scanned the night, he listened for any sounds worthy of notice.

The wind blowing from the west carried the fruity decay of trash.

He passed a woman deep throating some guy in the shadows, a bum who'd collapsed in a stupor, a drug dealer arguing on a cell phone about the going price for crack.

Levi knew the moment he was followed. Just not who it was. A robber, a junkie, another hitman. He didn't care either way. He allowed himself to smile widely, opened his jacket, and took out one of his hunter knives. It's handle felt comfortable in his palm. Three ounces of death ready to hit the airwaves. With the weapon in his hand, Levi didn't change his stride, even through he wanted to rush deeper into the shadows. He was starving for a fight, and the sucker behind him had perfect fucking timing. As he drew the other man into the dense darkness, Levi's body primed for the fight, his heart pumping steadily, the muscles in his arms and thighs twitching in anticipation. His ears picked up the sound of a gun being cocked, and he triangulated the weapon's aim. It was pointed at the back of his head. In a fluid motion, he wheeled around just as the bullet exploded out of the muzzle. He ducked and threw the knife, which flashed and twirled in a deadly arc. It caught the man right in the neck, splitting his throat open before continuing on its path into the darkness. The gun dropped to the ground, clattering across the asphalt, as the man grabbed his neck with both hands and fell to his knees. Levi was a bit disappointed the fight hadn't lasted longer, but what really worked his ass was that the cocksucker had the nerve to spill all of his life juices down the gutters before Levi had the chance to suck him dry.

Deciding that it wasn't worth it to lose his cool, that he had time, he stepped in front of the man and draw another piece of gun. Composite metal, diamond hard, beautifully made by hand. No identifying manufacturer. It was your standard nine-millimeter Beretta, model 92G-SD. Real good cared for, and naturally the serial number had been etched off. He placed the muzzle on the man's forehead and pulled the trigger, the duffle swallowing up the sound. He fell like over like sandsack.

Returning to the main street, he aimed for his next goal. It was typical of 1960s-era muni-architecture. Two stories, rabling, modern for its time, with plenty of pale grey cement and lots of narrow windows. It was aging with no grace whatsoever. Black streaks ran down its flanks as if it were bleeding from a wound in the roof, and the inside looked terminal as well. Nothing but nasty, chalky green linoleum, fake-wood-paneled walls, and chipped brown trim. After fifty years of cleaning, the heartiest of dirt had moved into every crack and fissure, and the grime wasn't coming out without a spray gun or some toothbrush action. As intriguing as it was, the building's basement was what he came here for.

Levi stepped inside the club and looked around, taking in the teeming, half-naked bodies on the dance floor. It was packed tonight, full of women wearing leather and men who looked like they had advanced degrees in violent crime. Levi fit right in. Except he actually was a killer.

He spoke to one of the bartenders and took place in one of the booths. A woman wearing a mircromini, thigh-high boots, and a bustier made of white leather strips trolled by him.

"What if I told you I had a fantasy?" Her eyes glittered from behind two pounds of mascara, and she worked her walk as if her hips were double-jointed. Against the backdrop of the VIP area, she was something else, a cross between Barbie and Barbarella. Her breasts were perfect, the very best money could buy. And her smile was radiant, a promise of acts done with knee pads. It was hard to know if she was one of the club's professionals or not. She planted her hands on the tabletop and leaned in toward him. "Well, daddy?" she said over the trippy techno music. "Want to make it come true?"

Her eyes, predatory and hot, glided over him. Sure as hell, she was going to make someone very happy tonight. Probably a busload of someones. But he wasn't going to be riding that double-decker. As far as he was concerned, she put the itch in bitch.

"Sorry, you need to go taste the rainbow somewhere else." Her total lack of reaction sealed the deal on her professional status. With a vacant smile, she floated over to the next table and pulled the same lean and gleam. No, she wasn't the kind of prey he was after tonight.

Funny , Eren thought as he leaned against the wall he was hiding behind. The second time, it's not such a big deal anymore.

When he heard a muffled noise, something like a 'plong', he peeked around the corner and saw Levi coming out of the small alleyway he had just turned into. Always maintaining a generous distance not to be discovered, he followed Levi from street to street. He was aware that he wasn't doing himself any favor with what he was doing right now, but he just had to have certainty. The mere thought that Levi would cheat on him blinded him with rage and frustration. Yeah, technically they didn't have sex, but that made it even harder for Eren to understand Levi's actions. He was offering himself on a silver plate, and to be refused like that just down right hurt.

As he lurked around the corner, he saw Levi at the end of the street, entering some building.

After a few minutes, he followed and took a look in one of the house's windows. There wasn't much to see though. Nothing but a dark and empty and pretty nasty inside of a run-down condo. Eren moved to the front door and cracked it slightly open. He still didn't see anything, but the muted sound of bass beats drifted to his ears. He followed those noises until he got to some stairs leading to the basement. The sounds grew louder and as Eren opened to the at the bottom, he absently realised that it must've been a soundproof door. The basses flooded his ears on a volume level he almost had to cover his ears.

He was standing at the entrance to a gigantic room filled with masses of people and laser lights, the odour of alcohol and perfume overwriting dominating the space.

Eren put one foot in and tried to overlook the room. It dawned on him quite fast that from this angle he wasn't getting anywhere. He decided to give it another shot from small plateau to his right, which also was full of half-naked people dancing. He squeezed through the many bodies and although the smell was an assault on his nose, giving him a headache the size of a planet, he was glad. Because with all these people, Levi would never discover him spying.

As he stepped up the scaffolding, he tried getting a position at it's railing to scan place anew.

And there he spotted him.

Levi was sitting in the shadows, the pink and blue glow from the backlit liquor bottles barely illuminating him. His don't-fuck-with-me face announced loud and clear that you screwed with him at your own risk. His eyes were lethally smart, fighter-serious and… leveled on a guy who returned him a hot gaze.

Eren's body went into instant flip-out, like someone was buffing his skin to a high shine while spanking him with a two-by-four. He was instantly breathless and dizzy and flushed, but at least he forgot about his roaring headache.

Sweet Jesus, the man walked over to Levi.

Eren didn't know what to do. He wanted to run, he wanted to get to Levi before it was too late. But he couldn't move. He was glued into his spot, unable to prevent anything from happening.

He saw the man approaching the raven, and the two of them exchanged some words before Levi stood up and they disappeared from Eren's field of vision.

That couldn't be happening. Levi wasn't really preferring fucking some dirty stranger than doing him, was he?

He obviously was, but Eren just had to see it for himself to believe it. Before he knew he was moving at all he sprinted down the plateau, and run after him.

Just when he almost lost sight of them, Eren saw Levi's form disappearing behind a metal door. He hurried after, feeling like some sort of aggravation was pulling him towards the man out of nowhere, and when he opened the door, he found himself again at the foot of a staircase.

He was getting closer, and Eren knew it. He knew this sensation. It felt like thunder rattling his bones, like nighttime beneath the shrouded moon. And he knew. From around the corner, at the top of the stairs, he could already hear the muffled sounds of a man that sure as hell wasn't Levi but also sure as hell sounded as if Levi had his hands on him. Eren was on ground level again, in some alley flanking the building he just came out from. All of this felt way too familiar, as he peeked around the corner and a large pillar, stabilizing some sort of passage leading from the first floor to the building next door, blocked his view. Screwing up his courage, he turned the corner on his toes, and kneeled down behind the large column that's base started a foot away from the wall. He looked through the narrow space to get a glimpse of Levi and the other man. And succeeded.

The view he got made his headache come back at full force, so Eren redirected his eyes to the spot between his feet. But the refocusing didn't last. Two seconds later he was locked on the peep show again, not so much watching it happen as absorbing the details. The man was on his knees and Levi had his hands bunched into the man's hair. He was working his head, hips flexing and releasing as he drilled that mouth. The muted sounds were as incredible as the visual and Eren had to shift in his position, his body hardening despite feeling utterly betrayed. He should've been disgusted by all means, but instead of throwing a tantrum all he could think of was how much he wanted to be the one on his knees, led by Levi's hands. He wanted to be the one whose mouth was full. He wanted to be responsible for making Levi pant and strain. Eren took another shot at looking away. But barely one minute later the ripple of a deep moan once again brought his eyes to the -

Eren's heart stopped.

Levi held the man in front of him, the other's back pressed against his chest, their pants pooling around their ankles and the man's head leaned back on Levi's shoulder.

Levi turned his head.

And locked eyes with Eren, his icy-blueish stare flashing before Levi sank a pair of unnatural long teeth into the man's neck.

Eren screamed.