A/N: Here's chapter forty-three! One heck of a VTMB kick, huh? Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own Bloodlines, but I do own my OCs. Also Jasper.
Waking a sleep-walker is dangerous because the jolt from being in a new location could actually shock them to death. After all, they don't know they're sleep-walking, they think they're safe in their room, under their covers, snug as a bug in a rug.
His phone buzzed in his pocket, and if his heart wasn't already dead, it would be. So immersed in a dream about driving, the stillness made him feel like he had whiplash.
Maybe it was just because he used a pillow for the first time in weeks instead of rocks.
He sat up and scrubbed a hand over his face, taking his phone out of his pocket after letting it ring a few times. New place, new furniture, new smells and feelings.
Then he remembered where he was. He picked up his phone before it stopped, "Yeah?"
He didn't expect her voice, "…K-Killian?"
His eyes closed as he sat back on the couch. Since when did cloth and stuffing feel so damn good? The fact that he was shirtless made it so much better. He opted to lay back on the couch, to feel more of the squishy cushions.
He was gonna have to leave this Phoebe chick a serious tip for letting him sleep on her heavenly couch. No less for an entire week.
"Yeah, what's up, Harper?"
He was hoping if he went in with a pleasant attitude, he'd get the same thing back, it'd be a short conversation, and he could get back to cuddling with these pillows.
"I…I just wanted to call and…make sure you were alright…"
"I'm fine."
She seemed jarred by the short response, "Where are you?"
"In a witch's cabin."
"…what? Is that…is that code for something?"
"Nah. Pretty much…straight up, witch's cabin. Hey, but she's pretty, so…I dunno, if she's gonna bake me into some ash-cookies or something, least there's that."
"…are you high?"
He snickered, "No. Look, I'm fine. You're alright? You're safe somewhere?"
"I'm in the red tower."
That got him up, "What? Shit, are you calling me on their phone?"
"I'm not that dense, sweetheart. This is my personal line."
His shoulders relaxed, "They still can't tap it?"
"No."
"You're sure."
"I mean, one can never be sure with the Nosferatu."
He rolled his eyes, pressing his thumb and index fingers against his eyes. He remembered driving that car in his dream. It was a Mustang, he was driving it along a straight road, horses galloping alongside him, the wind in his hair. It was absolute perfection, and he was pissed it couldn't be happening right now. "Nice talking to you. Bye."
"Are you safe?"
"Am I safe?" He asked, "No. I'm never safe. Night."
"Please stop trying to hang up."
"I don't want to talk." He said bluntly, "Look, I'm just not in the mood."
"Killian—"
Now his anger started to show, "Look, I don't know where the hell you got the guts to call me without an apology being the first thing out of your mouth."
A slight pause, "I'm sorry."
"Pfft." He sat back and combed his fingers through his hair, "Do you even know what you're apologizing for?" He looked up at the ceiling, observing the construction from an artist's perspective. It was neatly done and tidy, with a homely feel. It certainly felt like a witch's cabin, which was strange, because he absolutely adored the vibe. "I'm just not in the mood to put up with this, alright? Can't we just pretend this never happened?"
"What did I do…?"
"I mean, you fucked with me, when I was entirely uninterested. And, uh, hmm, let's think, ah, right, you frenzied at me."
A static-filled pause, "I'm so sorry…"
"Uh huh. Look, Harper, you seem to be a pretty nice girl under all that…those…booze-filled layers, but…I'm not interested in flings or…friends with benefits, whatever."
"I understand…"
It hurt him more that he was right about her real intentions for calling. He at least had a sliver of faith she would give another reason for calling, or at least lie. "Vanderbilt alright?" He asked eventually.
"He's fine…I…I got him in a lot of trouble…"
"Pfft, like hell you did. He's after me now too, isn't he?"
"No. I told him to leave you alone."
"Look, you can't just tell him to do something and expect he'll do it. He does his own shit. God, he's just like her in that aspect."
"Anastasia?"
"Yeah." He rubbed a temple. Why did her name sound so painful all of a sudden? Since when was that the effect?
She spoke the words he didn't want to hear, "You love her, don't you?"
It was a heavy question, it felt like it pressed on his chest, "No. It's…it's…it's complicated, alright?"
"Did you do something to her?"
"Pfft. I did everything to her, you kidding?" He felt his body rush with fire, but not from excitement; from embarrassment, regret and anger. "I don't want to talk about it."
"I do."
He scowled, "Yeah, well, I don't give a fuck what you want to talk about. I'm not obligated to tell you anything. Just because you're horny and bored doesn't mean I'm gonna entertain you. I'm not a soap opera. You prolly got a nice box 'a chocolates in your pantry and a huge flat screen with every fucking channel on the planet in that little room of yours." He sat up, "Why don't you do me a favor, turn it on, stuff your face and stop calling? Alright?"
"There's no need for this."
"I think there is a need for this. I got a bad feeling this is gonna be a routine thing with you."
"It won't."
"Yeah, hate to break it, but if I get one vibe from you, it's obsessive."
"Obsessive?" She scoffed, "I am not obsessive."
"You've been lamenting about your dead boyfriend for like, twenty years. Don't even get me started with LaCroix."
"I'd love to see how you'd be if Anastasia died."
He grit his teeth, "If Anastasia died, I'd be the last person you should be worried about. I think your regnant would be my first concern."
"You're dodging my question."
"There wasn't a question in the first place."
"Then let me ask you one."
He raised a brow, "Alright. Shoot." His voice oozed frustration.
"Do you have any friends? Do you know what friendship is?"
He moved the phone away from his face, rubbing a hand over his forehead. Why couldn't he come up with an answer for her? Any name, just, any name to make her seem wrong. Nothing came up. His voice cracked when he said, "What the hell kind of question is that?"
"So you and I are more similar than I had thought."
He grit his teeth, "You need to get the hell out of my life."
"Killian…I'm so lonely…I know you are too. Please, we can arrange something…"
"No fucking way. Not gonna happen, bimbo."
"You seemed so happy with me when you fucked me over your dresser…or was I Anastasia that night?"
"God, you're mental. I'm hanging up."
"No, don't."
"I'm waiting for you to say something that doesn't make me want to shoot myself in the foot."
"I can give you whatever you want."
"I don't want anything to do with you, Harper."
"Why?"
"Because you're…you're skeevy!" He said, "You're shifty and you're…you're fucking toxic. You're broken as shit. You need a fucking therapist."
"A therapist." She snorted, "Precious."
"Look, I get Vanderbilt isn't the…touchy-feely type, but you need to talk to someone, and it can't be me. I got way too much shit on my plate for me to be of any use to you."
"You were very useful to me."
"Harper, I can't tell if you've noticed, but I'm just fucked in the head as you are."
"And I love it…"
"Bye, Harper."
"No, don't…" She whined.
"Night." He shut the phone and took a deep sigh, "Fucking…women…" He pinched the bridge of his nose, standing up and grabbing his shirt. He was planning to get out of Phoebe's house, out of her hair before she woke up and wasted her time entertaining him, but it seemed he was far too late for that.
She stood in the stairway, leaning against the wall, an indeterminable look on her face. Killian pulled his tee shirt over his head and started putting it back on, "So…uh…how much of that did you hear?" He tried to unwrinkled the fabric by brushing his hands over it, "And uh…I didn't mean that…that women thing…" He said with a little smile. "Women are great. And I…I uh…shit, I don't mean that in a pervy way. You get it."
"I'm not a witch."
He was relieved that was what she chose to bring up. Of course he didn't show it. He could use something like this. "You know, I didn't mean it to be offensive. There are good witches out there. Like you." He hid his smirk well behind a poker face he had worked on for forty years. His arms were crossed but he didn't look too smug.
She walked right past him, "I should get started on breakfast."
"Look, I'll just go, I was kidding. I've been here for a week."
She looked back, "You don't want to stay?"
"I don't want to get in your way. Clearly you don't feel like making breakfast…"
"…I'll make an exception, for you…"
He snickered, "Alright, I won't pass that up."
She returned to where she was headed, her tiny kitchen. She prepared a glass of blood for both of them, sitting where she sat the previous night, and setting his glass where he sat. She didn't take a sip yet, however. Their eyes met, as she waited for him to sit across from her.
He eyed her over curiously, taking a seat, "This poisoned or something?" He lifted his glass, "You're not gonna drink it until I do?"
"Gangrel don't have access to any blood magic that I'm aware of."
He took a sip from it, "Still have trouble believing you're a Gangrel. You seem…I dunno…I mean, I know two Gangrel, and they're a lot wilder than you are."
"I thought my ability to overtake you as a spider was sufficient proof for that."
He leaned his forearms on the table, playing the angry card, but the way she heard his voice earlier, she knew he was just teasing, "Overtake me…" He grumbled, "I bet if we did a rematch right now I'd whoop your ass. Overtake me. Sheer luck."
"I bet I could defeat you even faster than the other two times we battled."
"That's a crock 'a crap. I could beat you with my hands tied behind my back. First time you got me, I thought I was hallucinating, so that's not fair. Second time I was hungry, not fair either."
"I would enjoy tying your hands behind your back immensely."
He sat back, one of his eyes twitching, "See, when you say shit like that, you sound like a witch."
"Now I'm just learning to embrace my title."
"Uh huh, sure…" He swirled his drink around like actual wine before finishing his glass, "You gotta get bigger glasses. My old man used to have these glasses that could fit like, half a bottle."
"I've probably had those glasses since the seventeen hundreds."
"Seriously?" He looked down at them, "Now I feel like I'm at an antique store or something…"
Her shoulders dropped slowly, her eyes wavered slightly as she looked at the floor, "This entire house could qualify for that…"
He flinched, "Hey, hey, I didn't mean to…to insult you or anything…don't…get upset…"
She looked back up, her face devoid of expression once again. Back to the cold, stoic exterior it was before, "I'm not upset."
He blinked dumbly, "…alright." He said, "I still didn't mean to…call you old or anything. In any case, I'd like a refill."
She stood up and took his glass, rinsing it out and refilling it. "I am old…in a sense, very old."
"Hey, with age comes wisdom. If you do it right."
"That's why you thinking you could ever defeat me is adorable."
He rolled his eyes, "If I put my back into it, I could probably punch a hole right through you. Exoskeleton or not."
"That would be assuming that you could catch me." She said, giving him his second glass.
He stared at his glass with a bit of a grumpy look, "My Celerity's getting there, alright?" He huffed after he took a lofty swallow, "I wasn't smart like my sister, I put all my stock into Potence rather than spreading it out over all three Disciplines. At this point I'm just trying to catch up…"
She crossed her legs, "I'm sure after some time, you'll be quite formidable."
He sat back, "I can hope so. At least I'm the only one with Potence in our bunch, so I'm not completely useless."
"You're the only Brujah in your group?"
"Yeah." His group. His group who he had abandoned for a week, hiding in here, this little slice of heaven. An alternate universe. He'd been ignoring their calls and messages, staying in her cabin and sleeping, either that or drinking and finding himself lost in a strange conversation with the witch-Gangrel. "Didn't used to be that way…ever hear of Nines Rodriguez?" He spoke the name, expecting her to of course hear of him, despite the fact they were all the way out in Idaho.
She took a small sip of her drink.
He cracked a smile, "He…uh….he was a big hit back in Cali, but, guess he never really made waves out here in the no-man's-land…"
"He was killed?"
"Yeah…that's…that's why we're out here. He was the leader of our movement. I…can't say I was around too much in the end," He scratched the back of his head, "Or the beginning…my attendance was kinda spotty, but…I don't know, he saved my sorry ass more times than I'd like to count. Whenever I was there, he was coming up with some sort of plan, he was always thinking about what was best for us. From what little I saw of the last few months…I don't know, he kinda seemed depressed. Like he knew it was coming, you know? God, but at that point, he had so many powerful people aiming their guns at him, it's no wonder he stopped giving a shit."
"I see…so you were formally in California…before arriving here?"
"Yeah. New Prince, new problems…" He gave a breathy sigh.
Even some of the members of the Camarilla were stunned at best, and appalled at worst at Victor's display. Cadmus turned around and looked down, endless tears running down his face as he sobbed. Though it couldn't be heard throughout all the roaring, the battling, and the small raging fire that was beginning to start on the grass from Victor's body.
"We're sorry, alright!?" Killian roared, "We're sorry!"
Victor chuckled insanely, flinging more fire at Killian, "Now…say that you will leave and you surrender to the glorious Camarilla. Leave and never come back!" He said, when there was a slightest bit of pause, he burned Anastasia again, "Say it!"
He coughed a bit, "We'll leave and never come back!" He raged, falling to his hands and knees, "We surrender to the…" He bit his tongue, beyond furious with his orders, "We surrender to the glorious Camarilla!" He spat out like the plague.
"Had to…go on my fucking hands and knees and surrender for all of us…" He smirked briefly, evident he was using it to hold back from a fit of rage or tears. "Cause everyone else was too busy…frenzying or being burnt to ash by the Tremere…God, it was a nightmare…"
"Sounds familiar."
"Familiar?" He asked, "Did something similar happen to you?" He looked up at her, she was a little taken back how expressive his face could be when he wanted it to be. "Is that why you're all the way out here by yourself?"
She looked at the table, then back up to his gaze, "Surely you're aware that the Camarilla, the Anarchs, and the Sabbat were all prevalent in the seventeen hundreds, yes?"
"Yeah, of course."
"The Jyhad was around for even longer…most likely ever since Caine himself was around." She said, "And yes…I participated in it…when I was younger…"
He took a sip from his glass, "Which side?"
"I think you already have that answer."
He paused, "Well, I'm assuming Camarilla. Considering you drink your blood out of a glass."
She sighed, "So young…so naïve…"
He snickered, "C'mon, I'm teasing. Our Den Mother used to drink blood out of a coffee mug, alright, it's not a totally foreign concept…"
"I'm so glad you think that."
"So were you an early Anarch?" He paused, "You can't be Sabbat. You have a brain. And you're a chick. And I'm not playing the sex card, but…I don't think I've ever met a single chick in the Sabbat…"
"Oh, they exist, trust me."
He paused, "…you were in the Sabbat?" He put his glass down on the table and crossed his arms, "No fucking way. It had to be way different back then er somethin'."
"What are your experiences with the Sabbat like?"
"My experiences with the Sabbat?" He asked, "I dunno, when they'd flush the streets and the seven of us would go out there and wipe out a horde of twenty or so…I don't know, it never seemed like they knew what they were doing. They just seemed to be causing mayhem for the hell of it."
"Shovelheads."
"Yeah. Shovelheads. That's all we saw. Apparently they're causing a big stink now but, I don't know much about it. I just overheard some mumbo-jumbo from one of the capes…"
"Sabbat very much love to mass-Embrace to create more soldiers." Phoebe said, "It's one of their most preferred tactics. Not that it always works."
"Shit, were you one of their…Embrace-ees?"
"No. I wasn't Embraced by the Sabbat."
He raised a brow, "…uh…alright…then…?" He trailed off, confused as to why she was telling him all these things in the first place.
"I never confirmed or denied which side I resided to, if any."
"No, you didn't. To be honest, I'm trying to follow, but I'm just having a terrible time…You're gonna have to go easy on me."
She took a long sip of her drink, putting the glass back down, "My, I'll have to hunt shortly. I'm not used to stocking blood for two."
"I could get something for you if you want. I'm gonna have to go back to camp eventually before they leave without me." He said, his mind fogged for a moment, "We were supposed to leave a week ago…Camarilla tracked us here."
"They won't find this place."
"Yeah, that's great that you're safe, but you won't let any of the others in, then there's no point. Dammit," He pounded his fist on the counter, "It's all my fucking fault, I just had to go back to California…" He downed his drink.
She paused in thought, "I…could let the others in…I…had no idea how dire the situation was…"
He shook his head, "They'll make a wreck of this place, trust me. Especially the brat…Jesus, she'll have the place stinking in two minutes."
She gave a small smile, "Well…if there ever is an emergency…you know where to find this place…"
"Yeah…" He said, his voice a little firmer, "So…how come you're being so nice to me?"
"If you want a completely honest answer, you're the first man I've spoken to in about two-hundred years."
"…how have you not gone insane? Like, don't you go crazy just…talking to yourself for two-hundred years?"
"I just…read…and hunted…" She said, chuckling eventually, "I almost forgot what my own voice sounded like…"
"I don't know how you do it…I'd lose my shit…" He stared at the table, "I'm not really too good at the whole…'independent' thing…"
"It's not for everyone."
"Guess not…" He stood up and stretched, "I might head back and…try and figure something out with the others. I don't want to go too far from here."
"Very well." She nodded, then her face was stricken with what only looked like a darkened and saddened expression, "Does…does this mean I won't ever see you again?"
"Of course not. Like I said, I'm staying in the area." He grinned, "I'm not gonna just abandon the lonely witch lady who gives me free blood."
Her eyebrow twitched, "Did you forget my name already?"
"Ah, and couch privileges. Can't forget those. Hardly even got those in my own house." He headed for the door.
She smiled again, "Goodbye, Killian."
"Night, Phoebe. I'll see you real soon." He waved as he headed back to the camp.
"Are you sure you didn't want anything to drink?" Aurora asked.
"Aurora, he can't." Finely said, blowing on her cup, "He's not…"
"I wasn't sure…" She said, "Did you want anything to eat?"
Finely rubbed one of her temples, "We're fine."
"Okay." She chirped, heading back behind the counter to put her display away, then she sat at the table with them. "How's the drink?"
"Hot." Finley said.
Aurora giggled, "Good, just the way it's supposed to be."
Finely looked over to Jasper, still a little bitter with him, "What have you been up to?"
He wearily looked out the window, "Nothing much of consequence…really…"
"Where are you living?"
"Nearby."
She glared at him as she took a sip of her drink. Aurora had a cappuccino of her own, deciding to turn the conversation, "Did you need a job? I wouldn't mind having an employee."
"No. I don't need a job." He said, "I don't eat or drink, and my property was more or less seized by Natalia's force anyway. If you play your cards right as a Kindred, you hardly need a steady income."
"Where are living then?" She looked worried.
"…in my house…"
"Well…how are you paying for it? Did you want me to move in with you?"
"Aurora." Finley scolded, but Aurora ignored her.
Jasper looked surprised, "I mean…I doubt my living quarters are drastically better than yours."
"We're living above this place."
"The two of you both?" He asked, looking at the ceiling, "I had no idea there were living quarters up there."
"Mmm hmm. They're a little tiny."
"We have to share a bathroom." Finley said through a mouthful.
"It's cozy."
"It's hell."
"Hmm…I was about to say how lonely it was at my place." Jasper said, "The serpents of light have already abandoned me for segregating myself from Natalia. They cursed me out and swore vengeance."
"I could…sleep over one night and you could see whether or not you like it." Aurora offered.
"For the love of…" Finley looked away, downing a portion of her coffee.
Jasper shrugged, "These are pressing times."
"Look, I'm gonna go…let you two make out." Finley stood up, "Obviously that's needed. I'll see you…in the morning, tomorrow night, whenever." Finley finished her drink, "Thanks for the coffee."
Aurora watched Finley go behind the counter and head for the stairs, then she looked back to Jasper, "I'm sorry she can be a little rude."
"It might be a little more peaceful here without her."
"I think so."
They stared at one another for a moment or two, "Look…Aurora…I don't want to impose…or anything…"
"I don't think there's any imposing." She took another sip of her drink.
"I see." He said, "To be fair to your friend, I was a very bad man."
"You're not anymore." She played with her mug, "Right?"
"…it sort of feels like I'm just…nothing…"
"It's better that than evil."
"I suppose so."
"Did…you want to show me your house? Or…your bedroom?" She finished her cup.
"Sure." He smiled, standing up, "It's rather simple." They took a taxi down the street to his tiny blue house. There were probably five rooms in the house altogether, three downstairs, and two upstairs.
"I love it." She took a step forward, an alluring look in her eye as she smiled.
"You're too sweet." He smiled back, then it faded as he turned some lights on, wincing a little, "Unfortunately, since I am indeed a vampire, I have no food or beverages to serve you. Though, that could change." His smile returned.
"Oh, I wouldn't worry about it too much." She stepped a little closer, "If the lights hurt your eyes, you can turn them off."
"But then you won't be able to see."
"I'll see just fine."
He reluctantly turned them off, "The Followers of Set have trouble with light…it's our clan weakness."
"So, not all vampires dislike it?"
"Well, sunlight kills all vampires." He said, "So you'll never see me during the daytime, but Followers of Set have an extremely bad time with light. Even artificial light."
"Ah hah…" She said, brushing some hair out of her face, "So…what about garlic? And virgins?"
"Virgins?" He sat at the kitchen table, crossing his legs, "Garlic is just a myth…but what do virgins have to do with anything?"
"Oh, I don't know…" She followed after him, leaning against the table, "Something about how…virgins are attracted to them…their blood tastes fresher or something…"
"No…that sounds like Sabbat nonsense." He said, scoffing at the very idea of the Sabbat, "Some vampires act like they do in the movies. Monstrous twits…but most of us are…well…I don't really have room to talk, now, do I?"
"Maybe you should try it and see."
He smiled at her, "You want me to try your blood, hmm?" He asked, "I'd…rather not…you seem a bit too delicate to be bitten in the neck. Maybe I could try something else with you."
"Oh?" She asked, "What do you have planned…?"
He chuckled, "I don't have anything planned, if anything, it seems like you have something planned."
"You're right…it is my body…but…maybe I want to give the floor to you."
"To me, hmm?" He unfastened his cape, throwing it on his chair, "Seems we're both novices at this."
"I didn't peg you for a novice…"
He looked her up and down, standing up, "And you're one? I find that hard to believe."
"Well…I've kissed before. I've made it close."
He chuckled, "That's close?" He asked, getting closer and kissing her on the lips.
She opened her legs as he stood between them, gently holding his shoulders, "I didn't mention what I kissed, did I?" She winked.
"I suppose not." He said quietly, holding her closer and making out with her more.
Her hands held his cheeks, slowly migrating towards his hairline. Her lips moved from his to his jawline, kissing and gently biting.
His hands around her back slowly made their way to her rear, rubbing it gently, "Taking this armor off might take a while…I apologize ahead of time…"
"Well…" Her voice was a luxury to be heard right up against his ear, "You could either take it all off in one go, or slowly take parts off…whichever you'd like…"
"I wouldn't want to keep you waiting long."
"How about you take it off piece by piece?" She rubbed a hand up his chest, "Let me…acquaint myself with you slowly…"
"Of course, I'll go slowly." He rubbed a hand up her shirt, a cool hand on her stomach. Her breath hitched at the sensation of his cold hand, her teeth caught her lip as she gave a heated sigh in his ear.
He reached for his tunic, slowly peeling it off, and throwing it at the chair behind him, going right back to kissing her.
She gently tore herself away from the kiss, gawking at his chest, the abs, the pecs, the shoulders and biceps, "Are all vampires like this…?"
"Not necessarily."
She flashed a quick smile before she got off the table, "I want to go somewhere where I'll be able to taste it in comfort."
"The bedroom?"
"That sounds nice."
He led the way upstairs, trying to loosen bits of armor prematurely so that he could get them off quicker. Once they entered the bedroom, he took the rest of his armor off, followed by his pants, until he was just in his underwear, "Did you have any more preferences you wanted to voice?"
She looked him over, "No, I don't think so. I just would like a good fuck." She took off her top and bottoms, sitting on the edge of the bed.
He stared at her chest, for what felt like hours, "…um…"
"Yes?" She raised a brow, "What, you want this off?" She reached behind her back, unclasping her bra and tossing it aside.
He looked at the ground, then he sat at the edge of the bed next to her, "This…this feels so wrong…"
"What?" She asked, looking offended.
"Dalton was practically married…and…here I am…doing this…" She crossed her arms over her chest and looked away. "…now I think I have a basic idea of what Harper went through…I'm probably in the same position that she's in…"
"Did you want me to leave?" She asked, looking sympathetic.
"No…I apologize…I didn't mean to…disrupt anything…we can continue if you'd like."
"Not if you'd feel guilty."
"No…I just…I felt shallow…doing this to you…you're…you're the only person who's…treated me with kindness…recently…even when I was in the dark."
"I understand…" She smiled, standing up and putting her bra back on, then hugging him, "I think you could use a break."
His eyes widened, "A break and making love to a kindhearted supermodel fall under the same definition, yes?"
She giggled, "Yes, but my cousin's the supermodel, I'm just a barista."
"Aurora…" He squeezed her, "Just one night…I…I feel so guilty…but I don't care. If you don't like it…we don't have to…see each other like this anymore…"
She giggled, "I have a feeling I'll like it no matter what."
She felt him relax, "I wish I met someone like you a long time ago…"
She laughed again, then fell onto the bed and took her bra off again.
He sent blood rushing through his body once again, it felt better than he remembered to have an erection. And not having one when a tan, busty, platinum blonde was laying almost completely naked in his bed seemed a bit unrealistic. He pulled his underwear off, as well as her panties, laying his throbbing length between her legs, applying quite a bit of pressure to ease the bulging shaft.
He immediately felt her nails delve into his skin as she gasped, "Not…wasting much time, are we…?" She asked.
"I wanted to do something like this to you since I first laid eyes on you." He held onto her as best he could, "If it's too much…please, say so. That goes for anything I do."
"Nothing will be too much."
He smirked, "How interesting." He said, "At some point, when you're ready, I can go inside you." His smile grew, "Don't worry, I have quite impressive willpower."
"Oh do you?" She smoothed a few fingers down the center of his chest, "Why don't you show me?"
He nodded, biting back a groan as he entered her. He reached out and grabbed her breasts, sighing with bliss, and half-wondering how he didn't touch them earlier. It was an intense ride. The mattress seemed to barely take it, as it creaked, "My…" He grunted, "I'm surprised I can even…even…hold back…"
After the pain had slipped away, it seemed Aurora had trouble holding back as well. He felt her climax quite early on, but the fire in her eyes revealed that she was far from done with him. "I want this bed to be broken by the time you're through with me…"
"Oh…and…" His breathing hitched, "Who's going to pay for a new one…? I'll have to go shopping…"
"You can borrow mine…" She grunted out.
He pet her hair slowly, anything to distract him at this point, "That won't be necessary, dear."
She grasped his hand, "What are you thinking about?" She smiled.
"It's…it's getting bigger…" His eyes widened, the hand on her breast clamped down a bit harder. She hummed pleasantly, kissing his neck, no, biting it, clawing at him while she was at it. "Aurora…I…I…damn…I won't hold out for much longer…"
"Then don't…" She murmured in his ear.
His thrusts were relentless before, but now that he released, it was outrageously violent. For support, her legs tangled with his, their hips lining up and producing a loud sound every time they met. It paired wonderfully with her screams of ecstasy.
The bed, which had been making quite little creaks of protests, was now squealing as Aurora sunk deeper and deeper into the mattress.
Jasper couldn't bear it, the feeling of releasing his load was so great, that he bit into her neck, taking a small sip of her as he finished her off. Her eyes flew open as soon as his teeth sunk into her flesh, at first she gripped on with pain, but her nails melted away as she moaned with intense pleasure.
He pulled out slowly, staying on top of her and giving her a hug, as he situated the covers over them both, "Aurora…even your name is beautiful…"
She looked absolutely spent, "So is yours…"
"Kind…too…I…I don't know where I'd be…if it weren't for you…"
She smiled and wrapped her arms around him, "Don't think about it…let's just…recuperate…"
"Fair point…I'm…I'm thankful to have met you."
"Me too…"
The house had split in two by the time the Astrolite bombs went off. Since the four of them were so high up, the rooms shook with a quaking urgency. Delilah had been separated on one end of the house, while Dragomir and Tess were on the other side, each lifting up a side of Slade.
"You think that Tremere girl is alright?" Tess asked Dragomir nervously.
"She's fine." He said, his tone urgent, "I'd like to get in and out as quickly as possible."
One of Slade's katanas stabbed into the ground in front of Delilah, it must've flung high in the air due to the explosion. Delilah also noticed a pair of purple eyes lightning up, and in front of her, in the flaming, shaking room, was Cedric. He pulled both his scythes out, aiming them at her. She stumbled back, nearly tripping over some debris.
As she saw it, there were three options. Plan A: Run. Plan B: Try the Tremere way? Plan C: Try using a katana. She hated all of them. She grabbed the katana, very surprised by how heavy it was. That wasn't going to work. It was no good. She opted for Plan B and used Purge.
Cedric nearly fell to one knee as he threw up, blood pooling all around his mask. He seethed with rage, holding a hand out to call upon Necromancy, and coating himself in Fortitude as well. He ran at Delilah with his scythes. The closer he got, the more apparent it was that he was most likely two feet taller than her. He went to lop her head off with his blades. She screamed, her hat tumbling to the ground.
But she was alright. She ducked just low enough. She grasped her hat and scrambled out of the way, using a series of blood strikes on him.
Cedric stumbled back, "Magic?" He asked, "She's…she's…bypassing my defenses!" He growled, "Rotten Tremere!" The Necromancy spell was finished, and dozens of zombies, skeletons, and specters cluttered the tiny room, heading right for Delilah.
She shuddered, her red eyes growing even brighter. She used Blood Strike to knock down as many as she could. The specters and skeletons remained, running (or floating) in to slash her. Cedric meanwhile switched to his crossbows, firing up Auspex to better his aim, as he shot flaming darts at her. Anytime he missed it progressed the fires around the room even more.
She yelped as she felt some of the flames consume one of her feet. She quickly battered them down, looking for some route of escape. Clearly defeating this man was just impossible, especially in his own playing field.
Cedric kept firing, while his minions crowded her and prevented many options from escaping, worse still, the battlefield seemed to be getting smaller and smaller.
She was on the verge of panic, using Purge again.
Cedric ceased fire, throwing up once again. But it failed to stop any of his minions, they began slashing her to ribbons. She cried out in pain, trying to push them away, using broken furniture if she had too—even the katana, with little hope.
Cedric aimed carefully, growling as he went for a head shot. Her pupils shrunk as she leapt out of the way, into a mass of his own army. At least she still had her head. Cedric kept a steady aim on her, honestly, the constant slight misses were nerve-wracking, in addition to that, she was running away from the small but lethal army of the undead he had left, practically going around in circles. Cedric swore silently with each miss, loading up the crossbow for another shot.
The flames ate at her hair. She screamed again, whipping the flames out. Her eyes were teary as she wondered if this would be her end. One by the Anarchs, one by the Camarilla, and the other by the Sabbat.
"I have you now, Tremere." Cedric aimed right in front of him, "Die!"
With nowhere left to turn, Delilah tipped her hat down in front of her eyes and bit her lip, hoping her death would be painless.
Delilah was struck, feeling a burning sensation in her chest and stomach as her life and un-life flashed before her eyes. There was then a sudden crumble, as both fighters fell through a few floors, all the way down to the basement. Both of them took moderate damage in the process, and Cedric was without his underworld army. Slade's katana clattered near Delilah's feet. Cedric, meanwhile, switched back to his scythes, running at her with all his might.
She grabbed the katana and blocked his blades, her breathing incredibly shaky. Cedric had the edge, the way her grip was, he could easily pull that katana out of her grip, they clashed for a few moments, and Delilah knew that even if she struck him, the blade would shatter, on account of Fortitude.
She scrambled back, using Purge again, this time trying to strike him with the very heavy blade while he was sick.
Cedric threw up, placing a hand over his mouth as his scythe fell to the ground. However, he was still able to block her with his free hand, "W-Wretched…Tremere…girl…"
She shuddered, stepping back away from him. Another Purge, another strike.
Cedric fell to his knees, throwing up more blood, "How…how dare you…" He lunged forward, hooking one of his scythes into her flesh. She gasped as it struck her leg. Her scream was anything but pretty as she reeled her blade down onto his face.
He blocked the blade with his arm, "You forget…don't you…girl…?" He cackled, as the sword began to splinter and crack, "Anything that strikes me is destroyed!"
She grimaced, dropping the blade. Blood Strike was her only option.
He fell back, and his eyes widened in pain as all of his Disciplines faded. He surrendered to an immediate frenzy, lashing out at Delilah with his gauntlets instead of his scythes, completely fallen to the beast.
She screeched in terror, scrambling back. She grasped the katana and reeled back to stab him right through the skull, down through the spine and all.
Time stopped, at least it did for Cedric. The once mighty Cappadocian, and now the Harbinger of Skulls felt the searing pain collide through his body. It was like the realization of what happened transpired through his frenzy and reached the man himself. The only emotion that could be registered in his purple eyes were sadness, as he slowly, very slowly, burnt away. The flames and ash took a while to consume him as he vanished, leaving his armor and cape behind. His mask fell last, clattering to the ground for a long while, before it finally surrendered and stayed put.