Underhand Tactics

Raphael POV:

It got worse by the hour, this addiction to her. And that was the bloody awful thing – it had been just that, a few hours and most of them spent sleeping. He was a vampire, he had centuries ahead of him, all of time, yet in a few measly hours he had become obsessed with the girl.

He watched her without giving a single hint of his interest, taking in her red curls and her vivid green eyes, growing duller by the second. It was underhand, Clary would surely tell him later, but the first little drug was actually a sleeping pill. Her eyes closed and she smiled at him tenderly, unseeing.

"Damn, you were right. I am tired," she said, stroking her face with the tip of one finger. She sighed, a sweet, exhausted sound. "Thanks for everything…"

He smiled at her, safe in the knowledge that she was already drifting into Morpheus' Realm, and sat next to her on the couch. Her eyes flickered towards him before closing again, and she leaned her weight against him. "That's okay, darlin'. It's no problem to look after you."

She made no answer but a soft sound in the back of her throat, sleeping peacefully against him. Struck by a sudden desire for human comfort, he pulled her into his arms.

What now? He asked himself, and his first thought was as immediate as it was painful. Use her. Whilst she didn't love him by any means, only a fool would miss the heated looks, the way her eyes lingered on his face, and the ease she had around him. But at the same time… he would never said he couldn't, because he could damn well do anything, but the idea of hurting her was bland in his mouth, unpleasant on his tongue and was a burn in his throat that he didn't recognise. Whatever gain there could be in stealing a hero's girlfriend – which was pretty much nothing – was over shadowed by her fiery hair and the sweet laugh and her 'I still don't trust you' that was bollocks because he saw the trust in every glance. She was his lullaby and he wasn't ready for the song to end.

Suddenly feeling watched and hunted he tenderly picked her up in his arms and led her to the bedroom where he lay her down, sliding the covers over her. He caressed her face, kissed her hair and slipped his hand out of her surprisingly tight grip, half horrified and half exasperated to hear himself making nonsense sounds to keep her calm.

Fondly he went to his desk and scribbled a note that he thought summed everything up easily: drugged you last night, painkillers on the desk, you'll be drained dry if you leave this room. He slipped it under a glass of water and, after one last look at her sleeping face, he locked the door behind him and headed to the main hall. An old clock nicked from a museum by a friend of his chimed – five am, just approaching sunrise. He knew he should sleep but it had been a long while since he'd felt so alive, so confident. If anything what he needed was a drink, and not the alcoholic kind.

Mind made up he rounded the corner, heading towards the main stores. His best bottles were in his fridge but there was some decent stuff in the main store-

The girl screamed just as he rounded another corner, the crowd cheering as the larger male ripped into her. A brawl in his corridor. Without a second fought he pushed through the crowd, throwing them out of his way.

"What the fuck are you doing? What the fuck?" He roared, slamming his elbow into the girl's gut before spinning, grasping old timer Michael's arm and snapping it. Michael howled but he could already see Bethany, the girl, getting up again and he slammed his foot down as an anchor, turning, pouncing and biting Bethany in one slick movement. The blood rushed into his mouth, sating him and exciting him at the same time and he took a long drag before forcing himself to not drink her dry. She whimpered but he dropped her without kissing the wound closed, letting her fall at his feet. The crowd which had been so eagerly cheering them on showed their true colours – all but one ran like bats out of hell.

Jodie gave him a big smile and rocked on the balls of her feet. He had often wondered why she would devote her life to healing, till he came to the conclusion that she got off from holding the power of life and death, and she enjoyed being a part of every fight and scuffle without lifting a finger. For a sick freak like Jodie, nothing was better than being praised for sticking around to watch a punishment.

He dealt with Michael first, hauling the shaking young man up and throwing him at the wall. Before he had time to think Raphael was on him, grabbing the curly mop of hair and using it to slam the attached head against the wallpaper. To his credit he took it in silence, and that was enough to refrain Raphael from doing more – a forced blood taking was a favourite of his, but the humiliation in the older ones was never forgotten. He punched him in the gut twice more though.

"Well? You got something to say for yourself? Fighting in my house, under my roof? You utter piece of shit. You're not worth the ground you walk on." Michael opened his mouth for a moment before closing it, hanging his head so much so that Raphael couldn't see a whisper of expression. He dragged his nails into the flesh of his coven member, making him let out a sharp shriek. "You going to say what this was about, hey Mikey? Or am I gonna find a nice sunny spot for you and your little friend to take a walk in?"

Michael shuddered from the threat and glanced up before hiding in fright again. The look was enough though and Raphael dropped him, determined to try his luck on the youngling. She cowered, clearly terrified as he shoved himself up against her. A part of him cried out at his treating a woman that way, at what his body language clearly stated to Bethany, but the other part was remembering the sweltering hells of Egpyt and the bloody mess the old coven had been like before he took over. Yes this was wrong, but it was also necessary.

"Tell me. Tell me what the fuck you know or it won't be pretty for you," he growled at her, sickened at her cry of fear. Sickened at himself for doing this. She whimpered and he pressed her harder into the wall, listening to it creak in protest.

"Please… please…" She glanced at Michael, who just knelt there on the floor like the coward he was. Not that Raphael blamed him. "I- I saw Michael coming back from- from out of the city. I was curious… so I- I asked where he had gone. And he told me to- to…"

Oh. This wasn't what he thought it was, but he could hear sincerity in her voice. Michael was pulling himself up, his eyes so wide with fright they were like saucers. No sooner had he moved to run than Jodie was pinning him, her sharp little fingers digging into his neck even as she twisted her wrist to press her bracelet into his cheek. He howled as the silver crucifix scarred his skin.

Raphael pulled back from Bethany, wiping away the remaining blood his earlier bite had caused. Gently he lowered her to ground, touching the top of her head in a blessing and an apology.

"The Transformation room. Now." Without waiting for a reply he strode down the corridor, leaving Jodie and Michael to catch up. There were so many reasons Michael could have went out of the city without permission, but two things were for certain. It wasn't good, and Michael was going to really regret his mistake.

A/N: I am so, so sorry! I've been revising for mocks and it just takes forever.

Task: How many little mistakes are there in this? Low, medium or high?