Disclaimer: Weiss Kreuz and its characters sadly do not belong to me.

Warnings: AU, eventual yaoi (it might take a while for me to get there)

Pairings: Eventual Ran/Ken, others are still up in the air

Author's Note: This story is set in a world that is entirely of my own making because there will eventually be elements of fantasy in it.

Blood Summons

By Rapunzel

Chapter 4

Ran's initial reaction was to recoil in horror. Jerking his hand back, he leapt to his feet, prepared to leave the body until he could find someone else to handle it. Then he paused as a realization hit him. Because the hand he'd touched had been icy cold, he had automatically assumed that the person was dead, but that might not be the case. It could be that the person was simply dead drunk, he reasoned, and therefore had not felt his kick. Vainly Ran wished that he'd thought to bring a lantern or some source of light with him so that he could see whoever it was and get a better idea of what was going on.

Reaching down once more, Ran located the body easily enough by touch and groped blindly upward, trying to find the person's shoulders. He stopped abruptly when his hand encountered some warm and viscous liquid on the body's side. Even in the dark, he could guess what that was. It felt like the blood was already congealing. Pressing a little harder, Ran felt some more of the liquid spill over his fingers. It was fresh, and the fact that the wound was still bleeding probably meant that the person was still alive.

Grabbing the body under the arms, Ran half lifted and half dragged the form out to where the alley intersected with one of the broader streets. Even there, there wasn't much light, but a few torches and lanterns were still lit, providing him with enough illumination to see the stranger. Light proved that he had found a young man. The man looked very young indeed, with his eyes closed, face very pale, and dark hair matted and plastered to his head. Ran could pick out at least two open wounds on his body just with a cursory inspection, and he wondered what had happened to cause them. A drunken fight, perhaps? But Ran'd had to bend fairly close over the body to move it, and he hadn't smelled any liquor on the man's breath.

Ran stood up and was debating whom he should inform of this to get the young man off of his hands and effectively make him someone else's responsibility, when something in the young man's hand caught his eye. What little light there was glinted off of metal, and Ran knelt again, curious, prying open the stranger's hand to remove the object. When he held it up to see it better, his breath caught in a gasp.

There, in his hand, done up in silver and gold, was the Takatori crest. Ran would have recognized it anywhere; he had spent the last six years of his life obsessing over it. It was the emblem he had painstakingly reconstructed from the small fragment of sealing wax he'd found, the one he'd copied carefully so that he could show it to others. His eyes, wide with shock, took in the wolf and hawk, then jerked back to the carrier of the unexpected find, narrowing in hatred. Takatori. The very name made his blood boil, and this wounded stranger was somehow connected to the man.

Ran knew full well that the man he'd found was not Takatori himself. He was far too young, for one thing. For a moment Ran wondered if he might be one of Takatori's sons, of whom he knew little, save that they existed. But he dismissed that notion quickly. The young man's clothes were not shabby by any means, but they were of a coarse weave and probably homespun. Takatori was a rich man, and Ran couldn't imagine him letting one of his offspring go about so poorly clothed. But if he wasn't Takatori's son, who was the wounded man, and how had he managed to get hold of what was an obviously valuable family item?

Taking the young man by the shoulders, Ran hauled him into a half sitting position. Bracing the stranger against his chest, he shook him vigorously. "Wake up!" he growled.

The man's head lolled listlessly to one side.

Ran shook him a little harder. "Wake up!" he repeated, this time a little more forcefully.

The man's eyelids twitched slightly, but other than that slight sign, he gave no indication of returning to consciousness. Finally, Ran dragged him over to where rain water ran off the eaves of one of the buildings. He stuck the man's face under the flow, and watched with mild satisfaction as his captive sputtered and thrashed weakly. When he was sure the man was at least mostly conscious, he pulled him back out of the stream of water, and hauled him up so that he could look into his face.

"Who are you?" Ran demanded.

The man managed to half open his eyes, lashes parting to reveal dark pupils that looked almost black in the dim light. He fixed his gaze on Ran unblinkingly without really seeming to see him, and Ran felt a stirring of unease. With his eyes half open and slightly glazed over, the man looked almost dead.

"Am I in hell then?" a soft voice whispered. The tone held such resignation that Ran was alarmed. It was almost as if the man wouldn't have cared if Ran had told him that yes, he was indeed in hell.

"No. Not yet," Ran answered quietly. He was tempted to add that he didn't think this young man was going to end up there at all, but for all he knew, that wasn't true.

"Not yet," the young man repeated vaguely. "That's good." His eye slipped closed again and his head lolled to the side, but this time Ran didn't bother to try waking him. He doubted that any attempts he made would have been successful at that point anyway. If he wanted information from this stranger, he was going to have to wait for it.

Ran's gaze strayed back to the crest, and his resolve hardened. Some things were worth waiting for.

/-/-/-/

Youji awoke to the sound of a muffled thump near the door. He sat bolt upright, throwing back the covers, tense and alert. A moment later the noise was repeated, followed by the sound of something fumbling for the handle of the door. For a moment Youji considered how quickly he could get to his weapons, which were lying in a pile along with his clothes for the next day. Then he heard the unmistakable sound of Ran cursing and he sprang out of bed to light a candle and open the door, wondering what on earth had happened to make the redhead so incapacitated that he couldn't open it himself. Was Ran drunk? Try as he might, Youji couldn't picture it. Ran just didn't seem the type.

"There you are," Youji said as he opened the door. "I was wondering when you were going to get ba..." he trailed off, voice dying in his throat as he observed the redhead and the burden he was carrying.

"Would you mind getting out of the doorway?" Ran snapped. "He's rather heavy."

Mutely, Youji stepped aside and observed in silent astonishment as his employer entered the room, staggering slightly under the weight of the unconscious young man on his back. Ran headed straight for Youji's bed, which was still in disarray from his hasty departure from it. Reaching the bed, he proceeded to dump his burden on it.

Youji decided that it was high time for him to speak up. "Who is that, why did you bring him here, and why the hell are you putting him on my bed? He's a mess."

Ran, who was bending over the young man, sent an irritated glare in Youji's direction. "I know he's a mess; that's why I brought him here. He's hurt and he needs to have his wounds treated. And I put him in your bed because I actually hope to be able to sleep in mine later. You've already had some sleep."

"Who is he?" Youji persisted.

"No idea," Ran said flatly as he bent over the young man and set to work removing the his boots and coat.

"Do you normally make a habit of picking up random hurt strangers off the street and bringing them into your living quarters for treatment?" Youji asked. "Because if you do, I think it's something I should know about."

"Of course not," Ran answered back. "But we have to get this one well enough to talk."

"Why?" Youji wanted to know.

"He was carrying this," Ran said, straightening long enough to toss something at Youji.

Catching it, Youji held it up to inspect it, his eyebrows climbing rapidly towards his hairline when he saw what it was. "This is Takatori's personal crest," he said.

"I know perfectly well what it is," Ran snapped. "What I want to know is where he got it from, and I can't ask him that until he's better. Now help me out, will you?"

Youji realized that he was gaping, and shut his mouth, moving to help Ran deal with their unexpected guest. Within a few minutes, they had him stripped of his wet clothes and were inspecting the damage, which proved to be more extensive than they'd thought. Ran already knew that the young man sported wounds of some sort on his chest and side, but he hadn't noticed the one on the shoulder until he'd taken off the man's shirt.

Youji's eyes narrowed as he inspected the gash along the young man's chest. He traced the length of it with his finger, following it upwards, and frowned. "Whoever did this meant business," he observed grimly. "He's lucky it missed his heart."

"Someone was trying to kill him," Ran agreed. "And I'll bet it had something to do with that trinket he was carrying." He too frowned, observing that the young man's lips were almost blue with cold. "Do you think it's too late to trouble the staff to ask for warm water and bandages?"

"Leave it to me," Youji said, giving him a tired but confident smile. "Just don't ever tell me again that no good can come from making nice with the chamber maids."

/-/-/-/

Dawn found the Katakura household in chaos and confusion. None of the servants were doing their chores; some of them were out looking around the estate, but most were huddled in groups, wide eyed and excited as they discussed the previous night's events. The few that weren't huddled in the gossip groups, busy murmuring and whispering and exclaiming, were clustered around the door that led to their master's private study, trying as quietly and unobtrusively as possible to listen to what was occurring within. Inside, the head of the household paced agitatedly between his guest and his desk, stuttering and stammering.

"I... I don't know how this could have happened!" he repeated for what must have been at least the fifth time.

His guest, a middle aged man with graying hair and sideburns, surveyed him coldly. "I don't care how it happened, just that it did."

"Please, Lord Takatori," Katakura implored of his guest, "give me a little more time. I'm sure my men will find the thief and recover the stolen goods. Then I can pay back my debt to you in full. The payment is already late, what does it matter now if we add a little more time?"

"Your men," Takatori said scornfully, "are incompetent fools! They practically had the villain in their grasp last night, and they let him escape! I know that you have already asked a few of my own men to look into the subject as well, and you should hope for your sake that they turn something up. As for the debt, I will be paid what I am owed, irregardless of whether or not you have recovered the money. I'm sure you'll have enough if you sell off your lands and all your assets."

"But that would ruin me!" Katakura cried, wringing his hands. "You wouldn't be so cruel to one who has shown you hospitality."

"The only reason I was in need of your hospitality was to collect what you owed me," Takatori reminded him. "And if you would pay your debts on time, none of this would have happened."

Katakura looked imploringly towards his guest and opened his mouth, but whatever he had been about to say was cut off by a quick, sharp rap on the door. The person outside did not bother waiting for a reply, and the door opened to admit a man with very neat dark hair and piercing golden eyes partially concealed behind a pair of spectacles. He ignored Katakura completely, moving instead to stand in front of Takatori. He bowed slightly then stood absolutely still, as if waiting for something.

"Well," Takatori snapped impatiently, "what did you find?"

"I have found the thief, my lord," the man replied. "It appears he was in a fight and died of his wounds. I have directed Lord Katakura's men to bring the body if you wish to inspect it yourself."

"What about the money?" Katakura asked anxiously. "The jewels? My family's silver? Have you found them as well?"

The messenger only shook his head silently.

"Then how do you know that the man you found was the thief!" Katakura demanded hotly.

"This was found on his body," the other man said. He walked to the desk and placed a necklace that had a flower pattern done in diamonds on it. "That and the bag the thief left behind last night were all that was recovered."

Katakura picked it up and stared at it dismally. "This is my wife's," he said, sounding like a man condemned to death. "It must have been the thief then. You're sure there was no sign of the rest of the money?"

"None, my lord," the dark haired man said, his voice bland and without sympathy. "It's probable that he had already stashed his gains in some location unknown to us."

Katakura walked slowly to the chair behind the desk and sat down in it heavily. "You're sure there was no sign of it?" he asked, sounding almost pleading. "Did you look everywhere?"

Golden eyes regarded him coolly. "I leave the searching to your men. My appointed task was simply to locate the thief, which I have done. Unless Lord Takatori has further orders, that is all I will do."

"Well, you heard the man," Takatori said, rising from his seat. "His job is finished. I depart at noon tomorrow, and you had better have paid me my due by then, even if you must sell your house and all that is in it."

"But my family!" Katakura cried, springing to his feet again and reaching out desperately to catch Takatori by the arm. "How will I support them? What will I do for a dowry for my daughter?"

Takatori shook his hand off impatiently. "That, sir, is your concern, not mine. Good morning, sir." So saying, he stalked out of the room, the dark haired man falling into step a pace behind him. The servants scattered before him as he flung open the study door and marched out. He paused to rather imperiously survey one of the serving maids who had not been quite quick enough in getting clear. "I'll take breakfast in my room," he told her coldly. "See to it that it is brought immediately."

"Yes, sir," she stammered, curtseying hastily before scurrying away as quickly as she could.

Takatori snorted in disgust and muttered something about meddlesome servants as he strode down the halls to his room. His companion followed silently, saying nothing until they had reached Takatori's room and the door had been shut and bolted behind them. Moving far enough into the room that he was fairly sure no one outside of it could hear them, Takatori demanded quietly, "All right, Crawford, what's really going on?"

"I have good news and bad news," Crawford said, his voice equally quiet.

"What's the good news?"

"I was able to recover some of the money."

Takatori glared at him. "Only some?" he accused.

"That would be part the bad news," Crawford said, reaching up to adjust his spectacles.

"Only part? What's the rest?"

"The thief we found was the wrong one," Crawford told him seriously. "It was the man you engaged for the job, not his partner. We found him dead on a rooftop in the village. He had managed to hide his share of the money, but we found that easily enough. Unfortunately, only about two thirds of the money was there. Presumably, his partner double crossed him and made off with the rest. Still, some is better than none, and at least this fellow won't talk."

"True," Takatori mused, scowling but remaining calm. "And the primary objective has been accomplished. Katakura already compiled all his liquid assets to pay me back; there's no way he can get me the money without selling everything he has left. He and his unfortunate family will make a lovely example of what happens to those who don't pay their debts on time." He seemed to ponder the fate of the family he was about to ruin for a moment, then shook off the thought. "What about the crest?" he asked.

"That's another part of the bad news," Crawford said. "We weren't able to find it."

"What!"

"It wasn't among the items we recovered. Schuldich is looking through the bags a second time as we speak, but I don't anticipate finding it. It was a risk you took when you agreed to let it be used as a mark to identify the thief."

"If it's not with the items you recovered, where do you suppose it is?" Takatori demanded.

Crawford shrugged. "Probably with the nameless, faceless partner who seems to have escaped."

"I want it back," Takatori said. "It's been with the family for generations. If I leave you here, can you and Schuldich find this person?"

"Given enough time, yes," Crawford answered. "But we don't have time. This arrived by courier just a few minutes ago." He reached into his coat and produced a letter, handing it to his employer. "It's from Nagi. Apparently, the girl is being troublesome again. He asks that we return immediately."

Takatori read hastily through the letter, then swore. "Then I suppose we'll have to do just that. Unless I could simply take Schuldich back with me and leave you here to find the missing thief."

Crawford shook his head. "It might not be such a good idea to have Schuldich and Farfarello together without me there to supervise."

"I suppose you're right," Takatori grumbled. "Perhaps I'll send you back to deal with this mess later. In the mean time, we have bigger things to worry about."

/-/-/-/

The ceiling was wrong.

That was the first thought that crossed Ken's mind when he cautiously opened his eyes. He'd spent plenty of sleepless nights shortly after he'd moved into the tiny loft he inhabited staring up at the ceiling, pondering his downfall. He knew every crack and shadow on that ceiling, and the one he was currently looking up at was definitely not the same. Once his tired mind made the connection, he began to wonder just where he was and how he had gotten there.

Abruptly, his memories of the previous night returned, and he was bombarded by a barrage of mental images and sensations. Kase. Gold. Betrayal. Blood. Rain. Tears. Pain. Darkness.

Ken sat up suddenly, then wished he had not as his head spun, pain flared in his shoulder and side, and his vision was eclipsed by bright blotches of color. He closed his eyes and sat perfectly still for a moment, waiting until the ringing in his ears had stopped before cautiously opening his eyes again and looking around.

He was in a fairly good sized room which was furnished with a small writing table, a screen, behind which a wash basin most probably stood, and two beds, one of which he was lying in. The other bed was occupied by another person, of whom all Ken could see was the top of a head. Red hair spilled out from under the blankets, the rest of the person completely hidden by the bedclothes. Presumably, whoever the person was, he or she was asleep. A further inspection of the room revealed that there was, in fact, one more occupant. A tall young man with shoulder length golden-brown hair was stretched out on the floor at the foot of the bed, also asleep. The man looked vaguely uncomfortable, sprawled there without even a pillow, and Ken sympathized. He'd spent a fair share of his nights sleeping on the floor just after he'd lost his job, and he knew how it felt.

Seeing the man on the floor brought up several questions which had been buzzing vaguely in the back of Ken's mind since he'd awakened. Obviously, the man was on the floor because Ken had usurped his bed. But why was Ken there anyway? How had he gotten there? Who were these people he was sharing a room with? Had they brought him there, and if so, why?

And how long had he been there anyway? Looking through the small window of the room, Ken observed that it was light outside. However, since the light was bright and he didn't know which way the window faced, he was unable to determine what time of day it was. For all he knew, it could be early morning or mid afternoon.

A shiver passed through Ken, and looking down, he realized that he had on significantly less clothing than he had the previous night (assuming that it had been the previous night; he had no idea how long he had been asleep). His shirt was gone, and clean bandages were wrapped around most of his chest and side, looping around to encompass his left shoulder. Even his pants had been removed, although they had mercifully been replaced, albeit with a pair that weren't his. The borrowed pair didn't fit him well, they were too tight around the hips and too long in the legs, but they were better than nothing.

Moving cautiously, mindful of his injuries, Ken slid his legs off the bed and slowly stood up. Whatever was going on, he couldn't afford to stay here. He had no idea why he had been brought to this room, but he wasn't sure he wanted to find out. They might have figured out what he had been doing the previous night. They might even have seen him when he and Kase... His mind shied away from the thought. Whatever they had or had not seen, it was probably not a good idea to remain here.

Ken kept his eyes fixed on the man lying on the floor. This stranger was partially blocking his path to the door, and he would have to be quiet if he wanted to slip out unnoticed. He tried to make his way across the room as unobtrusively as possible, but luck was not with him. He managed to step on one of his overlong pant legs and fell rather heavily against the other bed. Cautiously, he glanced at the man on the floor to see if the blunder had managed to wake him up. It hadn't, and he breathed a faint sigh of relief, only to catch his breath again in surprise upon looking back at the bed he'd landed against.

A pair of hard violet eyes regarded him back. Evidently, at least one of his captors was now awake.

Tbc...

Author's Notes: I know its been a long time since I've updated, and I did leave off on kind of a cliff hanger. My excuses are: 1) I've been going crazy with lab reports and finals 2) My beta reader is almost as busy as I am, and 3) My disc died, and it took a while before I could get back to my home computer. Besides, I notice that more people comment when I leave cliff hangers (yes, I know that's evil, but it's true).

The Invisible Fan: Well, now you know whose body it was. I realize that was a totally horrible place to leave off, but I have written more! Thanks for commenting!

kasugai gummie: I know, that was a horrible place to put the chapter break, and I'm sorry for leaving it at that point for so long. I'm glad you like the story so far, and I hope you liked the other things of mine that you read. Thanks for commenting!

NekoAnime: Yes, you were right about Kase. He makes a very convenient villain when it comes to Ken. As for the crest, any questions about that have hopefully been answered. Thanks for commenting!

HeatherR: No, Ran isn't really the type who would just pick up a random stranger and take him back with him. Good thing he had a little extra incentive in this case though. As for Omi, he will appear, though it may be a while. But don't worry, my beta reader is a big Omi fan, and she'll make sure I get him in there eventually. Thanks for commenting!

keishin: I'm glad you liked this chapter. I imagine it was a shock for Ran to trip over a body. Thanks for commenting!