I've been looking forward to this
Fighting for your lady in white, are you? How charming.
I'm not here for talking
A feint to the right and a block, punctuated by the sound of teeth snapping the air like a bear trap.
Obviously not for fighting either. But you can't expect much from a little California hood.
No response. Another charge, another block, but this time David's left shoulder was lowered and Lath staggered under his opponent's weight. With an expert whirl on his heel, he shifted the movement of their two bodies so he fell on top of David, bracing himself with one arm and raising the other to strike. Despite his fury, David was incredibly alert. He felt, rather than saw, the blow coming, and rolled. Lath's fist hit the ground, and the younger vampire sprang back to his feet before David could retaliate. Quick little thing. Like a snake.
David knew when he was being baited. He didn't respond, letting his senses take in every one of Lath's movements. Every breath outwards, every bead of sweat on his opponent's forehead, every twitch of every muscle was caught and analyzed behind his seething amber eyes. He was high fighting gear, like a violin tuned up to the point that its strings screamed to break, and every tiny sense was intensified. He could dimly hear struggle in the background, but it was too dark to see much. The thud of bodies, howls, grunts, the occasional death-gurgle…that was the only indication that anything was going on. His mind detached itself from the fight for a split second, wondering where Cate was. There was a slight spasm in his thoughts as he probed for her mind and felt nothing. A crazy slideshow playing at thousands of frames a minute galloped through his head – Cate fighting, Cate injured, Cate dead, Cate dying, dark hair matted with blood and spilled out around her head, her face pale and lifeless like a china doll, eyes glazed to an dull opal green, eyes that would never be able to look at him again with that look that sucked the breath right out of him although he'd never admit it to anyone, not even her - and it was that moment that Lath took advantage of his distraction.
They crashed to the ground together, teeth snapping and blows flying like a pair of street dogs brawling in the pit.
You should have heard her when we were taking her. She cried like a child, begging us to stop. Can you imagine her begging? After a while she got so used to it, she didn't fight any more. She probably even enjoyed it. I bet she likes being tied up, doesn't she? Does she let you take advantage of her? Does she like it rough?
And that was the last straw. David remained completely silent, but the roar in his head became almost deafening in his own ears. With a heave he pinned Lath to the ground, ignoring the biting wounds inflicted upon his back with his enemy's twin silver blades. He couldn't get a deep shot, not in this position. With a knee to the groin, he stifled Lath's attempt to draw his knees up and force him off. Lath drew in a painful, surprised gasp, realizing that he had gone too far. But the realization came too late as he felt a viselike grip around his neck, crushing his windpipe so hard it felt like it was being mashed up against his spine. He struggled, slashing with the knives, but it did no good. Panic was taking hold as he realized he couldn't breathe. David' face was right up against his, almost emotionless. Hard and cold, like it was carved out of slate
I want to watch you die
Lath tried to cry out but no sound could come. Unexpected. This was unexpected. You've made a mistake. The pain buzzed along his neck and into his head, and spots began to dance in front of his eyes like a tiny parade of death, millions of miniscule fireworks signaling the last few seconds of his life. He struggled but David's hold was like steel.
I'm not going to bite you. I'm not going to stab you. I'm going to hold you like this and watch you die. Look at me.
Lath's head was swimming and, if he could have drawn breath, a maniacal, forced chuckle would have escaped his lips. The insanity of knowing one was about to die.
Look at me.
He couldn't. His vision was nothing but blackness and shooting stars, and the blood pounded in his ears. His body began to spasm from lack of oxygen, and the last feeble electrical shocks in his brain only barely registered David's words. They were the last thing he heard.
"Look at me. You're going to die right here, right now, because of what you've done, and when you're gone I'm going to bury you right here and spit on the ground."
David watched as the body beneath him shuddered over and over…and then more slowly…and then stopped. The arms around his back fell, and he heard the dull clatter of the knives against hard dirt. His back was on fire with pain, but he barely felt it. He let go of Lath's neck and sat back, his eyes still locked on the now upturned whites of his kill's. He reached to either side, picking up a knife in one hand…and a rock in the other. He hesitated a moment, watching the body's muscles slowly constrict in the beginnings of rigor. But then he saw Cate. He saw her chained, saw her mouth open in silent screams as one after another after another of the pack took her, violently, until her legs could no lon ger hold her up and she hung by her wrists, limp and crying. The knife buried itself in Lath's still heart, and the rock in the other flew down witgh the scream of a hawk.
A sickening crunch echoed through the darkness and it connected with Lath's lifeless head, crushing bone, brain, and muscle. Hot, coppery liquid spattered across David face, but his hunger was not as powerful as his hatred. He didn't bother to drink, didn't even bother to wipe his face. The rock came down again, now slippery with flesh and fluid. The slimy feel of brain splattered again against David's face. He still felt nothing. Again. And again. And again. He wished it wasn't dark. He wanted to see the mangled heap of that sneering face, the face that had taunted him, the face that he had seen in Cate's dreams, when she woke him up in the middle of the night, twitching and crying, and he saw what she saw. That face leering at her, deriving an almost orgasmic pleasure merely from her agony.
The rock kept coming down, over and over. The sounds of battle around him were growing quieter, but he wasn't paying attention. All he wanted was to destroy everything, everything that he hated, everything that had hurt Cate, and turn it into nothing.
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….…………….
Dwayne was right. It had been quick.
She saw it as he was sleeping. Ironically, he was sleeping as soundly as he ever had. Part of her was in shock at the ruthlessness. But the other part was strangely exultant, almost delighted. She had probed as deeply as she could, trying to feel the rock in her own hands, feel the fading pulse of the vein in the neck between her clenched hands, tasting the blood. But he turned and made a small noise, and she didn't want to wake him. The tiger, done for the day with killing and now a sleeping kitten, lying up against her with one arm draped gently around her shoulders. The same arms that had choked the life out of the one thing that had tormented her more than anything else in her entire time on this earth.
She snatched back her mind as David grunted and opened one eye sleepily. "Hey."
"Hey."
"What time is it?"
"Pushing six."
He opened his other eye and stretched under the sheets, growling contentedly as his joints cracked. "Six."
"I want to come to Santa Carla with you."
David propped himself up on one elbow, and raised one dark blonde eyebrow thoughtfully. "Hmm. You do."
"I do."
"How did you know I was hoping you'd say that?"
"A hunch, I guess."
He leaned in a sneaked a quick kiss and nip below her ear. "Good."
"How will your boys take it?"
"I wouldn't care. But they like you, so it's not a problem."
"One thing…if I come along, I'm still not killing real people."
"Real people? As in non-scumbags?"
"Right. And I expect you, and them, to do the same."
David's eyes opened wide and he lay back down, snickering to himself, only half-confidently. Well, this was it. "Wow. You drive a hard bargain, there."
"That's my one condition."
"Cate, don't be stupid. You know what you are, and what we are. Do you seriously expect us to do that? Give me a break." But in reality, he knew that he'd do it anyway. If she had told him he could only drink blood from orange tabby cars with three legs for the rest of his life, he'd do it.
"You did it before."
"Yeah, but that was just me. Try convincing the rest of them."
"I think I could already."
"And how is that, pray tell?"
"You think you own Santa Carla, don't you? Well, you don't." She ignored the questioning, slightly angry look in his eyes. "The thugs do. The lowlifes do. The kind of people that snatch little girls off the street and turn them into drug mules, the kind of people that kill each other's family over a few dollars. Instead of just thinking it isn't your problem…."
"What, you want us to be superheros? I don't care about the morals of Santa Carla. I care about eating." David sniggered.
"No. I'm just giving you a challenge. Make the city really and truly yours."
"And what about when all the scum's been wiped away?"
"Scum is never wholly wiped away. Trust me."
"Interesting, I'll give you that. Interesting idea."
"Think they'll go for it?"
"They just might. Appeal to ego, and you can get everything."
……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….
Adrian had already left by the time the five had gotten packed up and ready to go. Cate understood why…goodbyes were never his strong point. True to his word, he had left his bike. David graciously didn't accept, but passed the bike on to Dwayne, who agreed incredulously. So, with Marko and Paul squashed on to one, David and Cate on the second, and Dwayne on the third, they headed out for California as soon as the sun was down. The other three had accepted Cate's offer. Paul and Marko had been thrilled to actually have a plan, a goal, almost a game, and were arguing over superhero names. Dwayne seemed thankful in a strange way. Despite his ability to kill without a second thought, Cate knew that he had never been entirely pleased with the idea of innocent death. And David, well, he was doing it for her. Plain and simple. He may not like it, but the idea of losing her took precedence. She hugged her arms around his waist as they made the turn onto the highway, and realized she didn't feel like she was leaving home. She felt like she was going home.
She hugged his waist harder and heard a low vibration of pleasure in his chest and throat, just under the growl of the motorcycle.
Thank you for this.
No need for thanks. I love you. You know that's why.
I love you too. Now let's get out of here.