Disclaimer: Nothing is mine except what is. I trust by now that you should know the difference. :)
Hey all! Again, a thousand thank you's to reviewers. I really do appreciate it. Special thanks to those who've stuck around from the beginning.
I'm going to be seperated from the internet and most likely my computer in general for the next week so I figured I had to get something out before then so I didn't get quite as far with this chapter as I wanted to. All the same, here's an update for now and hope everyone's having a happy summer.
As for this story, let the war continue.
Erik could feel coolness of the cellar, dryer still from how he'd lived in the opera house but humidity was to be expected on some level when one lives next to a hidden underground lake. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he could sense Christine's boredom. Next to him, he could hear the gentle clink of Philippe's pocket watch as he yet again pulled the contraption out to check it.
"Not long until dusk." He sighed and stretched. "Might as well enjoy the quiet for now. You'd better tell me how much you value my companionship now before one of us doesn't come back."
"You're not going anywhere."
"If one of us doesn't come back, rest assured that I intend it to be you."
"Your selflessness is heartwarming," Erik shook his head.
"Would you prefer a friend who lies to your face? Or rather, half of it, I suppose. I could generate plenty of empty endearments; you just have to ask."
What little chatter there was in the cellar suddenly stopped and Erik followed Philippe's averted gaze over to Donald who stood in the midst of what looked like a vampire refugee camp and clearly wanted to say something.
He cleared his throat. "As soon as the sun sets, those that are able will fan out and feed. We will all need our strength, even though we have gained a few stragglers. Finish quickly, no time to be fancy. Half of us will fight back any threat while the other will start toward the catacombs, taking what supplies they can and helping the wounded who can be saved. Any that can't make the journey will have to stay here. This stronghold is lost; they know where to find us and how to work it to their advantage. We have our shadows in the catacombs and they will be our advantage. We will divide you into groups and you will receive further instruction."
In short order, two clusters of vampires crowded around either Donald or Aleta. Erik held back, choosing to stand near the edge of the circle and wondering vaguely why he continued to put up with this nonsense. Naturally, he was picked to fight but he scoffed at the scared faces of the vampire militia.
"For those of you who were there for the first battle, the tactics are virtually the same. Our best hope is to find the leader. If we can take care of him, the hosts will all be momentarily stunned while the sprites decide a successor. If we're lucky, we can destroy many of the host bodies. If at all possible, strike at a free sprite. There is no way to kill it while it's protected by a host. When it feels that the host is in danger, it may try to leave so that it won't be stunned when the host dies. We'll regroup on the south side of the building after feeding. Don't deviate from this plan unless I instruct you otherwise. Is everyone clear?" Donald concluded in his subtle Scottish drawl. Most of the group eagerly nodded their heads while others, Erik included, only stared on impassively.
The cluster disbanded and all its members returned to their separate areas, readying themselves physically and mentally for the night ahead.
"Erik, a word," Donald demanded in a soft voice.
Erik said nothing but stood before the care-worn vampire.
"You've had some interaction with the leader. We're counting on you to recognize it if you can. Even though all sprites are driven by some strange malevolence, they do still retain unique personalities. If you see any sign, you know what to do."
Erik continued to watch him but nodded lightly in understanding.
"In return for your compliance, a few of the Elders and myself have decided to grant some clemency for the woman you seem to hold dear…but only if you follow orders. Know that by protecting us you will be protecting her." Erik's eyebrows rose momentarily (though only one was visible) but he nodded again; some motivation was all he needed.
Donald seemed to understand Erik's new loyalty and smiled to himself, assured that his little lie was well worth it.
∞†∞
Christine rubbed her arms gently, all too aware of the drop in temperature as the sun slowly set. She just had a bad feeling that something terrible would happen before the night was over. Leaving the windows by the balcony, she crept toward the door and poked her head out, searching for evidence of a guard. When she saw none, she took a deep breath and boldly stepped out of the room. Still keeping a wary eye out for anyone, she cautiously made her way down the hallway, hoping especially not to encounter Raoul…or at least whoever that man was who looked like Raoul. Christine shuddered, remembering. She had also seen something else when she bit his palm; she saw Raoul and then something with its own brilliance probing his mind. Stranger still was the voracious need for more of the slightly bitter sustenance, rich in an oddly satisfying way. The idea still left Christine in a general sense of disquiet, knowing that she shouldn't be craving something that by slaking her hunger could destroy another human being.
Christine was drawn from her thoughts as she heard voices, their owners moving in her direction. Though perhaps not the most creative of solutions, she ducked into a closet and peaked out the door, still not entirely sure to whom the voices belonged to but she could catch what they were saying.
"It's dark out. They'll be on the move soon."
"Yes. Don't allow them any rest."
"And the girl?" a third voice asked.
"Find her," the second voice commanded. "She can be used as leverage for either side. If we have her, it's our advantage."
Christine saw the speakers and was instantly glad for her choice to hide rather than meet the group head on. The first voice belonged to the creature that had lured her to the basement, still as handsome as ever, and would have led her to an early death if Erik hadn't been there. The commanding voice was that of Raoul though, again, it certainly didn't sound like Raoul in such a hardened tone. The last member of the group was a new face; Christine could only assume that he was another guest of the Baron's, meaning that he was with the Belmonts's group (and definitely not a servant, based on his garb).
"And the others?"
"Chances are, they'll be caught in the crossfire as it is," Christine watched as "Raoul" shrugged. "It is of little matter to us. Keep them if they amuse you."
Christine swallowed, disgusted with where the conversation was heading. They passed by the door but Christine stayed where she was. They would have no reason to think she'd hide in a closet so it was probably the safest place in the house…with the exception of Erik's arms, of course.
∞†∞
Erik wiped his mouth and settled the sheet over his victim, a young man that hadn't stirred and never would again. Another vampire, one he didn't know the name of with blonde hair trimmed short, finished off his own victim in the same household. He walked into the room where Erik still stood and waved his hand over the new corpse before pulling the sheet up; the marks on the victim's neck were scarcely visible and signs of sickness that weren't there before were obvious now. Erik looked at his new companion questioningly.
The man shrugged. "People see what they want to see. My illusions don't last long but they do come in handy, at least until they quarantine all the bodies or bury them in the same pit. With any luck, no one will be the wiser." Erik nodded in understanding. The man extended his hand: "Ben. From the Americas. Luckily I was on holiday when this whole incident began."
"Erik. Paris."
"Good thing Mother insisted that I study a few languages."
"Indeed," Erik said noncommittally.
"If you will excuse me, I've got to work my prestidigitation on quite a few more subjects tonight. We've got a lot of tracks to cover, after all. Perhaps you can tell me of the great city of Paris when we all regroup, assuming that we both survive this mess."
Erik, again, didn't answer but Ben wasn't fazed, instead nodding graciously and taking flight from the open window, off to another house. Ignoring the strange inkling in his head, Erik launched himself from the window, shifting smoothly into the form of a bat before his shape fell to the cool grass below; perhaps it was not the most subtle method for a vampire to travel but the odds were that most of the village would be dead before long. Again letting his mind wander, Erik let the air currents caress his temporary fur and whiz by enlarged ears while steering with the fragile membrane where his hands had been. Flapping gently, he landed in his full stature once more in the presence of a small gaggle of vampires that had already returned. Donald was there, of course, twirling a dagger distractedly, his mind decidedly elsewhere. Ezekiel was obviously mentally elsewhere but his presence was confusing, seeing as he was assigned to the other group; no one asked him outright, assured that he had his own reasoning.
"They won't wait much longer. I'm surprised they haven't ambushed us yet," Sebastian commented in a less than helpful tone.
"Be patient. They'll be nearly overwhelming us soon enough," a female vampire that Erik was certain he hadn't seen until that night spoke up. She looked as though she was quite accustomed to the battlefield, testing and checking the numerous weapons on her person. She caught Erik watching her and smiled. "Yes, I thought it was an odd gift for me of all people to receive but I dare you to find any who could best me at the sword, vampire or otherwise. I've had a couple decades of added practice."
She returned to her inspections and after holstering her pistol swished her sword about, readying her muscles for the oncoming battle.
"Oh, come, Carolyn, it's much more fun when you let others discover your abilities without warning."
She scoffed but gave a half-smile to another gentleman that Erik was unfamiliar with. "There isn't much time for sport, Roger. Besides, I'm sure our new comrade would be smart enough not to make any derogatory comments at a time like this." She raised an eyebrow, as if looking for confirmation before again resuming her task, stretching out in a polished lunge and skewering an invisible foe.
"As long as you don't stick me or yourself, I don't care what you do with it," Sebastian grumbled.
"Still trying to make up for what you said earlier?" Carolyn replied, "Because you're not helping yourself much. I'd be happy to force you to eat what you said an hour ago but one battle at a time is enough."
Sebastian murmured something unintelligible and Roger smirked. "I've ears like a hawk. Shall I tell the lady what you said or hold it over your head? Either way, the ordeal should prove most entertaining." Sebastian scowled and while Roger laughed, Carolyn trying to wheedle what was said out of one of them.
Roger's laughter was cut short and he cocked his head to one side. "They're coming," he said. He gestured to the east of where they stood. A few more vampires joined the group hastily (Ben being one of them, already appearing slightly worn from using his skill on so many bodies) as they all began to march determinately toward their foe. Scouts flew ahead and whispered their findings back, heard only by Roger's uncanny ears.
Donald nodded his head grimly. "They're sure to know we're coming so be on your guard. Good luck, everyone. We will regroup and head toward our camp an hour before sunrise in case we need to lead them in circles beforehand. Ideally, we would prefer to leave while they're stunned. If we run out of options, make for the catacombs. Once you arrive, rest; the group already there will be defending our position from whatever threats they can and they will send reinforcements when need be."
All too soon, they came to a hill. The scouts and even the stench and growls audible to everyone now further confirmed what lay just over the ridge. The group was hushed, reflective on the battle ahead. Erik couldn't help but mentally acknowledge that now would have been the opportune time for a smart-alecky and somehow entirely unhelpful comment by Philippe, had he been present; he shook his head, fully certain that Philippe was not the best of influences.
"They may be aware that we're coming but we can still surprise them," Roger spoke suddenly.
Donald raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
"Instead of this hasty, head-on tactic, we should split into two groups. Half should pretend to take the offensive but stay far back enough to use some of the ranged weapons in our limited arsenal. The other half should slip into shadow and attack from behind. The advantage may not last long but it's the best chance we've got."
Donald nodded, "Yes, let's make it so."
Erik, who had already assumed to make full use of his shadow form, stood to the side as other tactics that had already long been thrown out the window were brought up again; there just wasn't enough time nor enough knowledge of surroundings or the enemy in general to form a working plan. Erik acknowledged that Roger held some expertise in the area for whatever reason. Pity that he couldn't have arrived sooner than he had; even with Donald's command and Dane's impartiality, they still depended too much on those more skill and foresight in strategy. Or foresight in general, even when it came from someone as quirky as Ezekiel (who was tapping everyone on the shoulder and either waving and grinning or facing the individual with a questioning look as though his shoulder was the one that had been tapped). Somehow, Erik knew what was happening and wondered with a growing sense of dread which face Ezekiel would present him; Ezekiel was predicting who would survive the ordeal.
He came up to Erik last and prodded Erik's shoulder gently then grasped it as Erik turned to face him, his eyes oddly focused in their nearly colorless intensity: "Remember what Sancha told you, 'Watch out for your rival.' There is much that could go wrong. Don't believe all that you see." He closed his mouth for a second and cocked his head to the side. "All the King's horses and all the King's men," he murmured just as his eyes glazed over again and he smirked at Erik before waving genially.
The rest of the group had finally decided on a basic plan of action, though in actuality it was little better than what they had before, the free-for-all-help-others-when-you-can-hail-Mary-and-pray-we-make-it-out-of-this-alive sort of plan. Erik pushed Ezekiel's words to the back of his mind for the moment, instead focusing on the task ahead. He took a deep breath and melted into shadow, along with half of the other vampires present (too small a number, unfortunately). The shadow vampires followed in the wake of the other vampires at first, not wanting to give away too much, but if the vampire's shadow touched that of a tree limb only a keen eye could discern as the vampire enshrouded in shadow slid along.
While the fronts of two sides snarled and glared at the other (some possessed humans stood alongside the maliciously smirking beasts), many werewolves mysteriously lost their footing and pitched forward. The werewolves that didn't react quickly enough found a spike of silver embedded in its back as the shadow gained height and form. Erik watched as one wolf rolled out of the projectile but received a silver bolt from Carolyn's crossbow before he could raise much further from the ground. She took shot after shot with an accuracy that Erik had to grudgingly acknowledge as excellent. One werewolf released a blood-curdling cry as he slashed at the vampire who had tripped him, deep cuts already bleeding freely from the man's chest. The battle had begun.
Erik sank to shadow. Protected by his lack of body, he slid along the carnage, over ground and body alike. His conscious thoughts were lost in the thick of emotion and instinct. One creature sprinted after Ezekiel (who ran with an expression of one who knows he has just done something very naughty…knowing Ezekiel, Erik subconsciously mused that he'd probably pulled on the werewolf's long ears) with claws sharp and ready until Erik jerked him backwards by the neck, courtesy of a strong noose. He reeled the monster in with his vampiric strength, needing nearly every bit when it began to struggle. Erik pulled the rope tight but just before the werewolf's eyes clouded in death, a bright searing light sprung out of the its head. The monster fell limp and melted into the shape of a woman, unconscious rather than dead, and Erik dropped the scantily clothed woman unceremoniously, instead chasing after the sprite in earnest.
The speck of light was annoyingly agile in the field, zipping by a human and a vampire locked in mutual chokeholds and whizzing around the power struggle between another vampire struggling against the strength of the werewolf's paw to plunge a shard of silver into the beast's heart; however, Erik's feet hovered over the ground as he glided, dodging all obstacles as fluidly as possible though brushing past a few too many closer than he'd have liked. The sprite was slowly loosing speed and Erik dove after it, clasping the bit of light between his palms before screeching to a crunching halt on the hard ground, bits of dirt flying everywhere. He peeked at his prize, like a five-year-old wonders at a freshly caught lighting bug on muggy night in August. Suddenly, a high pitched shrill met his highly tuned ears and Erik was suddenly very aware of the apparent quiet around him. With a strong kick, he pushed off of the ground and held his position barely out of the werewolves' reach, trying to muffle the sprite's distress cry by covering his hands again. The other vampires recovered quickly from their astonishment as the enemy's tactics switched so drastically and resumed the attack, glad for the enemies continued distraction.
The sprite's voice cut off abruptly and Erik nearly dropped it when he felt tiny teeth sink into his finger and miniscule claws maul at his palm. The werewolves and inhabited beings stretched and jumped, trying to aid their comrade but helpless to reach Erik (who had risen to a higher level, knowing full well how high some of the werewolves could leap). Thought it was rather unsportsmanlike, Erik crushed his hands together and smothered the creature. Howls of rage rang out from below and, if it was possible, the bloodthirsty snarl darkened in the faces of his enemies.
Caught off guard, began to tumble toward the earth as a werewolf leaped up and clamped its jaws on his ankle. Instantly, Roger and Ezekiel were on the ready to defend Erik who was in certain danger from more than death and mauling at the least from vengeful possessed beings. Erik knocked the beast unconscious and watched as it slowly slunk back to the form of an ordinary man (once a farmer, by the look of the shreds) and moving the man's head away from where the vice-grip on his ankle had been before rising to his feet to face the horde, all of which were assaulting with an added frenzy as though they were somehow afraid.
Erik grinned to himself, planning to use whatever advantage he could. Since they were exposed, each would have less incentive to stay in a dying body (rather than suffer a stun and remain anonymous) especially when finding a fresh body would lead to a better chance of survival…if they could make it that far. Another squeal of protest diverted the attackers' attention once again; this time the ball of light was clasped between Ezekiel's hands, his eyes focused as he grinned ruthlessly. He mashed his hands together with a vicious grinding motion as more monstrosities bellowed in rage. Ezekiel's eyes unfocused and he waved before leading a pack of angry monsters on a chase that would have been comical in nearly any other situation…and if the beasts following closely on his tail weren't flecked with bits of rabid drool and pounding mindlessly on all fours—they even tried to be clear and cut him off but he only laughed and avoided them with a strong leap and flip over their head.
The vampires again took best advantage of the circumstances, the diversion weakening the focus of the threat. Erik made his way through several attackers and fought in closer proximity to Donald, shouting, "The leader isn't here."
"Are you certain?" he shouted back, ducking a swiping paw.
"Yes. Can't say why but I am."
Donald nodded and resumed full attention on his surroundings and the battle. Carolyn on the left was receiving a wide berth from her latest target, after finally having learned from his predecessors who lay dead on the ground that too close meant death. Sprites had zoomed from three of her kills thus far and she prayed that there were other members of her side had taken the time to chase after them, far too caught up with her present enemy to hunt it down herself.
Two more sprites were destroyed and each caused the others resort to more frantic measures, either a handful of sprites breaking rank and making a run for it or lashing out in awareness of the corner they were steadily shoved into. Erik smirked as he grappled with a man who though he had increased feral strength wasn't strong enough; the sprite leeched out of him with little hesitation and he wilted to the ground. This time, the mass of light shot straight up, faster than Erik's long wings could flap after. A new sound pierced Erik's sensitized ears, this one still rather shrill but in broken spurts.
Erik recovered quickly, shaking the droning tone and struck the sprite with an outstretched wing and a screech of his own. Though his eyes were peppered with afterimages, he continued to follow his prey. Thankfully, he pulled away just before smashing into a tall man, someone the sprite had just claimed control over. He tried to flap out of reach but the man closed his fist, painfully pinning Erik's wings. He brought the bat close to his scruffy face and sneered. Erik could smell the cheap alcohol on the man's breath but a glance at the man's various pieces of gear made him rethink his original conclusion. Shifting into a shadow, he melted through the tight grip and went to find Donald, figuring that even he should know of this new development.
Erik didn't have far to fly; Donald was already eyeing the newcomers with an expression that bordered on fearful.
"Reinforcements, I believe?" Erik asked, dodging a wild swing from a bleeding werewolf.
"More than you know. That looks like half the Belmont clan."
"So the sprites weren't fleeing for their lives they were aiming for new hosts, hosts that know how to deal with our kind."
"It would appear so," Donald added, hurling his silver dagger into the back of a werewolf poised to deliver a brutal strike to Ben (who flashed an "ok" symbol and a grin before returning his focus on another opponent). "Be ready. Pass the word along if you can. Try and keep your distance."
Erik ducked as a bolt from a foreign crossbow shot over his head. "That may prove difficult."
"We're going to have to start toward shelter soon. We're running out of strength as it is. And the Belmonts are renowned trackers so we need to start a few dead ends if we expect any peace." Erik nodded and turned his attention to fending off fangs glistening with someone else's blood.
Time blurred together, intermixed with blood and adrenaline, and soon Donald was signaling the retreat. A sizable amount of ground was gained but it was impossible to continue the struggle in the daylight hours. They flew in circles and they doubled back, those that could make the journey anyway. Carolyn limped along half supported by Roger, Sebastian held pressure over a gash on his arm while another cut leaked down the side of his face, Ezekiel was leading their pursuers in another direction, Ben appeared weary but otherwise not injured (unless that was an illusion he chose to put up) and countless others had been left behind. Donald refused to let the group move in shadow form, certain that the Belmonts knew a way of tracking the presence of shadows at it wasn't worth the risk.
Finally, the half that survived rejoined with the second group, virtually collapsing on the dark dirt floor of the catacombs. A few lamps (and the gift of another vampire who could create his own independent light source) made the darkness workable for those still trying to accomplish something. Erik saw Philippe lounging against the far wall and collapsed next to him in an exhausted heap.
"Where is Christine?"
"Hello and I'm glad to see you're alive, too. How the hell should I know?"
Erik raised his head and searched the vampires in the cave.
"Erik, I'm here," a voice said next to him. Her dark hair curled in a familiar fashion and her smile gave strength to his tired smile.
Erik frowned suddenly. "This isn't Christine."
"Erik, what can you mean? Of course it's me."
"Ben! Get rid of this illusion."
The face suddenly melted back to Ben with his short cropped hair. "How did you—"
"Wow, you've got to show me how to do that someday," Philippe added unhelpfully.
"Where is Christine?" Erik repeated.
"I don't know, Donald only told me to pose for a while."
"As much as I'm sure you enjoy messing with people's heads, might I ask why? Or how the hell this all came about?" Philippe put in. "Did you really expect to fool him?"
"I was just following orders."
"A likely story," Philippe mumbled. "But we found you out so get out of here."
Ben nodded and went to his own corner, Aleta meeting him to tend to his wounds.
"What's that?"
"Another werewolf bite. Listen—"
"Wait, another one? Just how many are we talking? You could be infec—"
"That's not important now. Where is Christine?" Erik pressed.
"Alright, alright, let me see if I can find out." Philippe closed his eyes, probing out from the darkness with his mind. "Give me your hand."
"Why?"
"Nothing funny, I just think that the bond will help me out here."
Erik surrendered his forearm and Philippe smiled, having come to his conclusion.
"Look's like she's still at the manor."
Erik frowned, enraged that he'd been lied to. "Then that's where I'm going."
"Are you insane? The sun's due to rise in, oh, less than an hour; you'll never make it in time. Funny as I think it might be, you might not want to reduce to a curling pile of ashes. I don't think even Christine could accept you then."
All fatigue forgotten, Erik rose to his feet and marched toward the entrance.
"Where do you think you're going?"
Erik turned at Donald's icy tone. "Christine's not here."
"You can't leave now. They'll retrace your steps and find us all."
"That's not my problem."
Donald jerked at Erik's collar but Erik was too quick for him, tossing him against the wall.
"I'm going," he announced. Donald was too stunned to say anything as he fought to recover himself and Erik had already blended into the shadows, long gone and racing to protect what was important in the abandoned stronghold.
Authoress Babble: There we go, Erik finally gave Donald a taste of his comeupance which I'd been wanting to do for quite some time. More battles to be fought, more problems to solve, and Philippe's snarky humor along the way.
So who's your favorite vampire, really?
And as always, Love it or hate it, Please let me know! (Reviewers recieve an autographed poster of all the vampire crew from this story plus a piece of Dracula's cape, courtesy of the Erik and Philippe Fan club, not to mention the limited edition Erik plushie with a light up sprite in his palm.)