DISCLAIMER: Everything you recognise belongs to Warner Bros., Joel Schumacher, Janice Fischer, James Jeremias and Jeffrey Boam. Everything else is mine.
Rated 'M' for strong language and, well, vampire stuff.
Heathens
Remy dreamt of fire.
It surrounded her; engulfed her; consumed her from the inside out. She screamed but made no sound; her cries for help dying in her throat that had been burnt raw. She coughed at the smoke filling her lungs. It stung her eyes but she forced herself to keep them open, to see what was to come.
"Remy!"
The voice was familiar though she hadn't heard it in a long time. It was angry, desperate – fearful. It croaked with age but she could still hear the power, barely kept in check, behind it. She knew this voice, knew the face it belonged to; crows feet surrounding laughing brown eyes; dark hair turned silver with age; a prominent crooked nose from when he'd broken it as a child, before his magic kicked in. She knew this dream too, though it had been years since she last had it.
There was something heavy lying across her chest, crushing her ribs, pressing the jagged edges of bone into her lungs. She could feel the blood bubbling up the back of her throat, could taste its metallic tang. The flames still licked at her but she was starting to feel cold.
She was dying.
"Remy!"
She heard the crack of the roof above her finally giving way under the intensity of the fire, saw the flaming beams come plunging down towards her and tried not to think of the force of its impact that would surely crush her skull. But that fatal blow never came.
The fiery pine beam came to a halt a mere hairsbreadth away from her face, held aloft by some unseen force. She could feel the heat of the burning wood, could hear sizzling; it took a moment for her to recognise it as the sound of her tear stained skin singeing. She whimpered as she felt the weight ease itself off her chest. Dark eyes that had no business being that anguished appeared above her. Gentle hands hovered over her face, afraid to touch her for fear of exacerbating her injuries. The elderly man kneeling beside her practically glowed with power and his mere presence was a soothing balm.
"Äijih," she burbled weakly, squeezing her eyes against the sharp spike of pain that pierced through her chest as she tried to take in a deeper breath.
"Muu räähis nieidâ. Keččâđ mii," her grandfather ordered. Her eyes snapped open, following the magic that sparked across his fingers as he held them over her charred flesh, willing the power into her body to keep her alive. His gaze caught her own and she could practically feel the pressure of his overwhelming life force wrapping around her own.
"Ei," she breathed, trying to push him away as she realised what he was doing.
He shushed her, easily dodging her hands as he poured more of himself into her. Outside, a loud crack sounded, and an agonising cry was suddenly cut short. A chill rippled through her as Remy and her grandfather turned to look through the flames at a shadowy figure that suddenly loomed at the entrance of the burning log cabin.
"Sun adeliđ mii, puáris almai," hissed the voice that would haunt her nightmares for decades. She knew this voice but it was wrong somehow – warped, twisted – poisoned.
"Et tun väldiđ sun," barked her grandfather, rising to his feet to stand between Remy and their attacker. Energy crackled up his arms; a warning that he wasn't going to back down without a fight.
"Pâârnâš muu!" the shadow roared.
Blue flames surged forth to meet a wall of blinding white light. Remy screamed as the explosion of power threw her through a door and into the crumbling kitchen. Her broken ribs punctured her lung and she began to drown in her own blood. As she struggled to remain conscious, she watched as the shadow swept aside her grandfather's defences as if they were nothing. Its spindly, feminine arm, engulfed in tongues of blue fire, backhanded the old man with enough force to knock him off his feet. It wrapped its fingers around his throat, pressing him into the wooden floorboards.
"Keččâđ mii!" it snarled.
The last thing Remy saw was the flash of impossibly sharp teeth sinking into her grandfather's neck as his dark eyes bore into hers.
"Äijih!" Remy cried as she shot out of bed, gasping.
Her sudden movement invoked a startled scream from her kitchen and she whirled around, legs tangling in her sheets, to confront her intruder. Her arm shot forward before her sleep addled brain properly registered who was standing in her trailer. A ball of energy, sparking with defensive magic, cannoned into her kitchen cabinets, sending splinters of wood, metal chips and shards of glass and porcelain flying everywhere.
"What the hell, Remy!" shrieked Generys. The redhead stared incredulously at the spot she had been standing in mere seconds ago. "You could've killed me!"
"I – " Remy gasped, mouth opening and closing like a goldfish.
Generys pushed herself to her feet, dusting off the ashy remains of Remy's kitchen that clung to her. She had on a pair of aviators that had slid off her nose and now hung off her left ear. She winced as she straightened the sunglasses and pinched the bridge of her nose.
"Girl, you must've been way more wasted last night than I thought you were," she groaned. "Then again, you did go through that whiskey like it was water."
Remy closed her mouth with a snap, shook her head, and started again.
"I'm sorry, Genny – "
"I forgive you."
" – but what are you doing here?"
Generys waved her arm around in a grand gesture as if the answer was obvious.
"Uh, making my famous hangover cure, duh," she said as she flung open the fridge. "What happened to the rest of your bananas?"
"I ate them. Why couldn't you make it at your place?" asked Remy as she untangled herself from her sheets. Beltezhazzar must have carried her back last night she realised, for she was sure she had been in no shape to walk back to her trailer on her own after everything that had happened. She shot Generys a careful look, watching the physically older woman flutter around her cramped kitchen, pulling the blender out from a cupboard that hadn't been blown to smithereens.
"Blender broke. And besides, this way I can make you some too. If your head feels anything like mine you'll definitely need it. Almost makes me glad I didn't wake up next to one of the boys this morning. I would not have been nice."
Remy doubted that the Lost Boys cared about how nice their one night stands were in the morning, considering they probably wouldn't have lived to see another day. But she kept that thought to herself. She flinched as the blender whirled to life and had to physically stop herself from lashing out again. Was Generys trying to punish her? Had she messed up somehow and the other woman actually still remembered what happened last night and this was her revenge? It was highly unlikely but she couldn't think of why else Generys would be intentionally aggravating her pounding headache. At least she was pretty sure it was intentional.
"It's been a while since I've drunk enough to black out," Generys continued, half shouting over the noise of the blender. "How did we even make it back to the cirque last night?"
"No idea," Remy muttered. She raised her voice. "Why are you shouting?"
"How else would you hear me?" the redhead reasoned.
"But don't you have a headache?"
"Yeah. But misery loves company, right?" Generys grinned.
After another ten seconds, she finally switched the blender off, brandishing the plastic jug over her head like a trophy. Rummaging around for an intact glass, Generys absentmindedly reached for one of Remy's wine bottles and made to add its contents into her questionable hangover cure, but was stopped by an invisible force. She looked over her shoulder to see Remy with an arm outstretched towards her, a wide-eyed look on her face.
"What?" Generys asked with an arched brow. "Hair of the dog, am I right?"
Remy smiled shakily.
"I think we've had enough alcohol to last us at least until next month. Put it back, Genny."
Generys shrugged, returning the bottle to the rack.
"Suit yourself." She lifted the blender jug to her lips, swigging back the thick sludge. "Ugh…would've definitely been better with a splash of wine. But you're probably right. Me and Jas somehow ended up on the floor of Suz's trailer last night. Do you have any idea how terrifying it is to wake up to the twins when your brain's all scrambled?"
"Horrifying, I'm sure," Remy mumbled, swinging her legs off her bed. She frowned. She had definitely been wearing more than a thin camisole and undies last night. Belteshazzar must have changed her. "Genny, I love you, but can you please get the hell out of my trailer?"
Generys ambled over, offering her hangover cure to the girl. She perched herself on the edge of the bed and playfully ran a nail over Remy's knee.
"Relax, girl. Besides, it's nothing I haven't seen before."
Remy sighed and resisted the urge to roll her eyes.
"That's not what I meant." She accepted the plastic jug and took a sip. It did not taste any better than the last time. "I'm glad you're okay and all but I really just want to curl up under a dozen blankets and never see people again."
"Of course I'm okay. And you don't even own a dozen blankets."
Remy groaned and dropped her head onto Generys' shoulder.
"Genny!" she whined.
The other woman laughed, pushing her off her shoulder.
"All right, all right! I get when I'm not wanted. Break my heart, why doncha? But I'm taking this!"
Generys took back the jug and took an obnoxiously large swallow. She dramatically flung open the trailer door and immediately hissed at the painfully bright light.
"Maybe you were right," she groaned. "Let's never go drinking again."
"Wait!"
Generys shot her a questioning look, one foot literally out the door of the trailer.
"Was just wondering…" Remy began, "…is…I mean are…are the others all right?"
"What do you mean?"
"Jas. Suzie. Kakra. Zesiro. How are they?"
Generys shrugged.
"Well the twins must've been partying it up last night too because everyone's got one hell of a headache. But nothing my hangover cure won't fix."
Remy nodded.
"And Angus?"
"Passed him on my way up here. Are you all right?" Generys shot her a concerned look. "You don't look too hot."
"What?" Remy shook her head. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. Just…" she smiled weakly, "last night was rough, you know?"
Generys didn't look convinced but eventually returned her smile.
"Yeah," she agreed. "So many bad choices. Let's not do that again."
"So many bad choices," Remy echoed.
The redhead stumbled out of the trailer, lifting Remy's jug in farewell. Remy watched her narrowly avoid colliding into Sylvie who was taking Dinah out on a walk. She danced around Fillin and Ignatius, laughing at something the werewolf said as she twirled past, immediately grabbing her head with regret after the spin. It was well into the afternoon and the cirque was bustling with life. The faint smile came unbidden and reluctantly, but she made no attempt to quash it. It was good to see some normalcy after the events of last night.
Last night had been a complete nightmare, and she wasn't just referring to her dream. Belteshazzar had literally torn through her mind and had forced her to do the same to the people she cared about. She could only be thankful that Leander hadn't been there for she was pretty sure she would never have been able to wipe his mind like Belteshazzar wanted, and he would have ended up killing everyone.
Remy kicked the door shut, pulling at her hair in exasperation. She was so stupid and this was so messed up. She should have been more suspicious when Belteshazzar made the cirque move to Santa Carla. She should have questioned why he was being so secretive about not letting the others know that he was a vampire, people that they were supposed to trust and consider as family. She should have fought harder when he made her spend more time with the Lost Boys, especially when they knew the vampire stalking them was powerful enough to be felt by the others. It wasn't safe in Santa Carla. It wasn't safe with Belteshazzar.
But he had saved her life. In many ways, he had saved everyone in the cirque from untimely deaths. Left on their own, many would have been persecuted, hunted down and killed; just because they didn't fit into society's definition of what was acceptably normal. But at the same time, last night had proven that Belteshazzar didn't really care if the others lived or died. They were expandable to him. What he cared about was keeping her under his thumb and – and –
And keeping them a secret from the other vampires.
Remy's arms dropped to her side as she stared unseeingly at the floor.
Belteshazzar was…afraid. He was chasing this mysterious head vampire but he was afraid. He knew who this person was but didn't want them to know that he was in town.
He was there that night. The night you should've died.
That's what Belteshazzar had said – he was there. Santa Carla's mysterious head vampire was a man. But the creature that had killed her grandparents had been female. She was pretty sure of that.
Remy scowled. Things were not adding up and she wanted answers.
David shuddered as the tourist's blood poured down his throat. The guy was straight edge and that made him taste so much sweeter – pure – clean. It was a deliciously heady experience; a nice change from the usual Santa Carla fare. Just a few feet away, Dwayne was enjoying the guy's girlfriend, viciously draining her dry. Paul and Marko showed up just as they were throwing the bodies onto a bonfire, both of them drenched in blood. None of them spoke as they flew back to the cave and cleaned themselves up in the ocean.
Things were getting complicated in Santa Carla.
Four nights ago, he and his brothers had noticed the presence of something else on the boardwalk – something ancient and malevolent. They hadn't been sure if they should report it to Max. Their relationship with their sire had definitely changed after the Emersons and it had taken a while for David to realise that it was because he wasn't so sure he trusted Max anymore.
But in the end it hadn't really mattered because Max had sensed the newcomer too. And he'd been furious that they had gone against his wishes and not only visited the boardwalk but the circus as well. His idea of discipline had incapacitated them for a couple of nights and was what really drove home the realisation that they needed to get out from under his thumb. And as if that hadn't been enough, he then had the audacity to order them to keep an eye on the circus girl and her ringmaster, backing it up with the power of a sire's command so that they couldn't refuse unless they wanted to suffer agonising pain.
Then there was what they saw last night. Actually, David wasn't quite sure what he saw last night. They'd all agreed that they had definitely seen the ringmaster's eyes flash vampire yellow. Marko swore he saw the man's teeth grow. And they certainly recognised the symptoms of a sire launching a mental assault on their sired. But what happened after…
It looked like Remy had stopped that muscle man in his tracks just by reaching her hand out to him. He had stood absolutely still, completely frozen, for a good minute or two before crumpling like a marionette that had its strings cut. That was not typically something a vampire could do to a human, let alone a half-vampire; for David was almost positive that Remy hadn't fully turned yet. He would definitely have sensed if she were a vampire. Then again, none of them had sensed that she was a half-vampire. Not only that, but the ringmaster hadn't felt right either. They struggled to read vampire off of him; in fact, they struggled to read anything off of the man, like something was blocking them from sensing him.
David shook the salt water out of his hair, popping the collars of both his jackets angrily. Even Marko jumping on Paul to dunk him back underwater failed to bring a hint of a smile to his face. Dwayne scrubbed the last of the blood out of his jacket and flung it over his shoulder, not at all keen on putting on wet leather.
"So," the brunette began, "what now?"
"Yeah," piped Paul, throwing Marko off his back. "I know Max said we're supposed to be spying on Remy and that Belt-see-whatsisname guy, but I have a bad feeling about this, man."
"Do you think the rest of the circus are vampires too?" asked Marko. "I mean; we never knew Remy was a half. Maybe the rest of them have some way of hiding the usual signs too."
"I don't know," admitted David. He kicked violently at the loose rocks that lined the shore outside the cave's entrance. "I don't know!"
"Max knew about the girl and the ringmaster," Dwayne pointed out. "He could be hiding other things from us."
"Of course he's hiding other things from us," David grumbled.
He snatched up Dwayne's jeans from where his brother had kicked them off before heading into the water and searched the pockets for his cigarettes. The others watched him carefully as he lit up, silently getting redressed. They shared in his anger and irritation at their sire, at the entire situation. They didn't like having been kept in the dark. And they were getting tired of blindly obeying him.
"It's not like he'll just give us answers if we ask him nicely," said Dwayne, voicing the thought that had been on David's mind for a while.
"What happens if we don't ask him nicely?" Paul suggested.
David's gaze slid over to meet Paul's baby blues, easily reading the growing excitement in them as the idea started to take root. A slow grin spread over Marko's face. Dwayne remained seemingly impassive, though the slight tightening of the muscles around his jaw told David that the idea appealed to him too.
"In case you guys forgot, he kicked our asses just a few nights ago," David reminded them. "And he's still our sire. All he has to do is think it and he can have us curled up on the ground, drooling and crapping our pants."
"Well, that would suck," muttered Paul.
They followed their brother as he climbed back into their cave. David used the last of his cigarette to light up the other one he'd tucked behind his ear, furiously puffing away as he tried to come up with a plan that wouldn't get them all severely injured or killed. A year ago, he would've sworn on his undead heart that Max would never intentionally do anything that would hurt them. Now, he wasn't even sure that his sire wouldn't kill one of them to set an example for the others if the fancy struck him. Max wasn't right in the head – not after the Emersons.
His brothers usually bounded ahead of him once they reached the main cavern, but tonight they trailed sedately behind him, allowing David to set the pace. Marko didn't even stray towards one of his pigeons. It didn't help, knowing that his brothers looked to him to make a decision that could affect the rest of their lives. David could almost physically feel the pressure weighing down on his shoulders.
If anyone asked, he would've sworn that was the reason why he didn't notice the intruder until it was too late.
"What the hell!" cried Paul as he suddenly found himself unable to move.
He had only made it halfway down the rubble that blocked the large cavern off from the entrance, and was precariously balanced on one foot, the other raised in the middle of taking another step. Dwayne strained fruitlessly against his invisible binds, roaring with rage when he realised he couldn't move a single muscle. Marko had been hopping up onto the fountain and was frozen with his toes just touching its edge and the other leg completely off the ground.
David stood in the middle of the cave, his cigarette raised to his lips. He breathed out a cloud of smoke and realised that he could move his head but nothing else.
"That's a pretty neat party trick," he called out, his voice deceptively calm.
The diaphanous curtains and scarves around Star's bed rippled as the intruder stepped out from behind it. He should have gotten rid of the stupid thing ages ago. It wasn't like anyone else actually slept in the bed anyway. He ignored his brothers' snarls, fixing his eyes on the circus girl as Remy revealed herself.
The girl still had on her stage makeup, but she had obviously taken the time to change out of whatever costume she'd worn that night. Her clothes were practical but tight, and her hair had been tied back into a bun – nothing flowing, nothing loose; nothing that could be grabbed at in the middle of a fight – smart.
"Evening, Remy," David drawled. "Why don't you let us get some light going? Make it nice and cosy. Then you can tell us what the hell you're doing here."
The girl stared at him and it pissed him off that he couldn't tell what she was thinking. One by one, she met the gaze of each of his brothers, silently measuring them up, assessing them. When her eyes returned to him, they narrowed slightly and something behind them hardened. She snapped her fingers and the metal oil drums and candles they kept scattered around the cave flared into life. David had to physically stop himself from flinching at the sudden eruption of fire. Behind him, he could hear Paul and Marko swearing up a storm at the unexpected display of power.
"What are you?" asked David carefully.
"Does it really matter?" Remy replied.
"Are you here to kill us?" he shot back.
"If I were, you'd already be dead."
David wasn't sure if she was telling the truth. But the girl wasn't anything they had ever faced before. She hadn't hurt them. And they were still alive. That was a good start.
"How did you find us?" barked Paul.
Her lips curled in the barest hint of a smile before she smoothed over her features again.
"Made friends with a couple of vampire hunters. They were very helpful. Even gave me these when I let slip that I wanted to take a look at your lair." She pulled out a wooden stake she had tucked away in her back pocket and showed them the canteen she had slung over her shoulder. David was willing to bet his left nut that the plastic bottle was filled with holy water. "I have to say, I'm surprised that you guys didn't clear out after what happened."
Her eyes shot towards David at the snarl he let slip at that.
"Yes. They told me what happened. Must have been excruciatingly painful, what you guys went through." She threw the stake into the ground with enough force that it quivered when it impaled the hard-packed earth. Letting the canteen slip carelessly from her fingers, she dropped herself into David's wheelchair, never once taking her eyes off of them. "Have to say, I probably wouldn't have put up with a sire who let that happen to me; who put outsiders over family."
His brothers were practically chomping at the bit now. David didn't need to turn around to know that they had all vamped out. He was barely holding back the turn himself. Right now, he wanted nothing more than to wrap his hands around the girl's skinny neck and watch her eyes glass over as he squeezed the life out of her.
"What do you want?" he ground out.
"What I want is a face to face with Max." She ignored the rage filled hissing that her mention of the name seemed to prompt. "I'm told he is your sire."
"And who told you that?" David snapped.
"Like I said, I made new friends."
The Froggies – he should have killed them the moment he and his brothers regained their strength. Hell, it's what Paul had been saying they should do for a while now but he was being cautious, reluctant to risk losing his brothers again. And now his decision had come back to bite him in the ass.
David's cigarette had burnt low and was threatening to burn his fingers if he didn't move them soon. But Remy made no offer to let them loose and he refused to show weakness by asking. Not just yet anyway.
"Why don't you ask your new friends where to find him? Since they seem to know so much."
The girl shrugged, nonchalantly.
"Of course I asked them. But no one at the video store knew anything and his old house is empty."
"How do you know they weren't lying to you?" he challenged.
Remy smiled lazily, probably intending it to be disarming and reassuring.
"I have my ways," she said, enigmatically.
"Can you read our minds?" Paul yelped.
Her smile curled wider – toothier.
"Don't worry, your secrets are safe with me, Paul."
David narrowed his eyes suspiciously. If the girl could read minds, why didn't she just pluck the information she wanted out of their heads? What wasn't he seeing here?
"Where's your sire?" he demanded.
If Remy was surprised by him turning the tables on her, she hid it well. She made no attempt to deny that she might be a vampire. She didn't even hesitate in her reply.
"Back at the cirque."
"Getting you to do his dirty work?" David scoffed.
"He doesn't know I'm here," she admitted. "At least not why anyways."
The stench of burning flesh reached his nose but his fingers refused to drop the cigarette butt. The girl must have smelt it too for her eyes darted to his hand and, for the first time that night, he saw something flicker behind them. He watched her as she stared at his fingers, seemingly lost in thought. David frowned. Things didn't add up.
"What do you want with Max?"
The girl had to drag her eyes away from his hand. It took a couple more seconds for her to shake off the faraway look and register his question. Instead of answering, she flicked her fingers, as if shooing away a fly, and he felt himself regain control of his body.
"Act of good fai – " she began, but was cut off as David launched himself at her, sending the both of them crashing into the dusty ground.
His hands circled her throat, squeezing hard enough to cause her to gasp. He straddled her waist, his knees trapping her arms beneath him. His brothers closed in on them, hungry for blood. He leaned down close enough that he could count every single eyelash framing her eyes. He breathed in deeply and jerked back sharply, roaring in anger. Her scent hadn't changed at all. There wasn't even the slightest hint of fear on her.
A flash of metal out of the corner of his eyes told him that Dwayne had drawn his switchblade. He should sic them on her; let Dwayne slice her into ribbons, let Paul pluck her eyes from her skull, let Marko rip her entrails from her body. Remy lay underneath him; her breath composed and even, still as a statue.
David frowned. Why wasn't she fighting back?
"What do you want with Max?" he repeated, squeezing tighter.
"I just want to talk," she insisted.
Remy winced as David pressed down on her; not hard enough to crush her windpipe, but enough to let her known that he wouldn't hesitate if he didn't like her answer. Yet she met his gaze head on, eerily calm. Did the girl have a death wish?
She wasn't human, that much was certain. She was a vampire, or at least a half, and had powers that he had never seen before. She could freeze them in her tracks, create fire, and apparently read minds. And yet she was letting him sit on and strangle her. Either the girl was playing with them, or there was something else she wanted. Maybe he could spin this to their advantage. What was that old saying? The enemy of my enemy is my friend? It was a stupid proverb; a sure-fire way to get yourself killed quickly. But, for the moment…
"What do we get if we tell you where he is?" David asked.
Dwayne stopped rolling his switchblade in his hand. Paul and Marko looked at him briefly in surprise. But none of them questioned him.
Even with his hands around her throat, Remy managed to tilt her head, curiously.
"What do you want?"
David reached out to his brothers through their mental bond, opening himself up to them so they could see the plan taking shape in his mind. The wave of excitement and agitation that crashed into him threatened to overwhelm him. He could see himself reflected in Remy's eyes, could see the red rims of his own yellow irises, could feel the drool clinging to his fangs. And still her scent did not change.
"If we tell you where to find Max," he growled, bringing his face so close to hers that the tips of his fangs scratched across her porcelain smooth cheek, "we need you to help us kill him."
A low rumbled of approval rippled through his brothers. Remy's eyes searched his.
"Let me get this straight: you want me to help you kill your sire?"
Paul nodded vigorously over his shoulder. She looked at each of them in turn, a lazy, predatory smile spreading across her full lips.
"Deal."
A/N: A huge thank you goes out to Gabriel Minuit Noire, arienna89, Kristin, jgood27 and alicia7788 for their reviews.
Inari Sami is one of the Sami languages that's spoken in Finland. It's a minority language compared to Northern Sami but I think it's what Remy and her family would've spoken considering that they lived along the Ivalo (or Avveel in Sami). I know nothing about the language besides what I've found on the internet. So I apologise in advance for the grammar or completely erroneous use of vocabulary. All mistakes are my own.
Here are the sites I used in my feeble attempt to translate Inari Sami (just remove the spaces and change the 'dot' to an actual dot):
: / / people. uta. fi /~km56049 /same /inarinsaame . html
: / / saanih. oahpa. no /fin /sm n/
: / / glosbe dot com / sm n /en
Inari Sami translations
Äijih: Grandfather
Muu: my
Räähis: love, dear (adj.)
Nieidâ: girl
Keččâđ mii: Look at me
Ei: No, don't (I think it's the same in Finnish)
Sun adeliđ mii: Give her to me (lit. Her to give me)
Puáris: old
Almai: man
Et tun väldiđ sun: You cannot have her (lit. You cannot to take her)
Pâârnâš muu: The child is mine (lit. Child mine)
It's probably all wrong! Sorry!
As always, I love hearing from you guys! It's what inspires me to continue writing. Thanks for sticking it out through the long updating periods. I'm trying to be better about that.
Love,
Scribbles