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"You've told Hank," flatly repeated Erik, once they got out of the car.
"Hank is intelligent. He won't do such an utterly stupid thing as cooperating with the group of demons who intend to destroy the world," Charles attempted to hide his eye-roll by burying nose in the map.
"Um, I really don't understand…" sheepishly tried Hank.
"Shut up," snapped Erik and turned to Charles, "Correct me if I'm wrong. You don't want the girl you call your sister to be aware of our plan, yet, you've told the brainiac, who is also a werewolf, who also hates his natural form and will do anything to get rid of it, whom you've known for about one and a half year, only because he's smart?"
Hank sniffled behind his back.
"Hank, stop it. I'm telling the truth and you know it. Get hold of yourself, for god's sake. One more thing," Erik turned around and measured Hank with his meanest look, he's been training in front of the mirror for ages to master it to perfection, "If you betray us, I'll skin you alive. You'd make an excellent fur carpet next to the fireplace in my study."
"Erik, you don't even own a house," absently mentioned the vampire and patted Hank on the arm, where he could reach, "Don't worry, Hank. Erik is joking, he's the kindest person I know."
"You two…" Hank made helpless gesture, defeated, "All I'm trying to say for an hour is that I'd never betray you, Charles."
"I'm aware," hummed Charles, his eyes glinted with soft amusement.
Erik scowled. This is not a good cop bad cop tactic, there's too much at stake for mere games.
Since his visit to Logan and the grand hangover next morning, Erik, eerily enough, felt more cleansed than ever. He desperately needed that. An outlet. The morning after, he took the bottle of wine from the fridge — will do to nurse his headache, hesitated for a moment and then reached for one of Charles' drinks, stuffed in the lower section. Before knocking on the door of Charles' bedroom, he nearly lost all courage and run away.
Go and talk to him, grumbled Logan. He's a vampire and so what? It only means that he'll forever be a twenty-four year old kind-hearted, noble, idealistic brat, constantly studying as if he's never left the university and trying to change the world. Being turned into vampires, mused Logan, striped people of their socially adapted persona, all deeply hidden inclinations surfaced at once, aggression the top one. The darkest corners of human heart became revealed and the temptation to blend with demonic essence stood above everything. Charles, Logan shrugged, is a phenomenon in himself. He is now like he used to be when he was alive, because he's a naturally good person — no masks, no pretence. He should have become a saint, a scholar, a mighty sorcerer, but fate is a cruel bitch and who knows it better than you, Lehnsherr.
For now, decided Erik, blinded by the force of Charles' brilliant smile when he opened the door, it'll suffice, this truce, a tentative beginning of something heart-pounding and new, but his other desires awakened by Charles have to wait. Recently, he harbored the hope — the kiss in the dream, that night when he fell asleep together with Charles — what if it was real, after all. To find it out he must ask the other participant. He'd better face demon barehanded than ask Charles that.
Tonight they were searching for one of the remaining relics in the sewers. Yeah, Erik was rather hoping for a quiet, peaceful walk to the cemetery in the serene moonlight, but Charles has dug out a map which indicated the place where once stood the occult temple, destroyed by the fire. The foundations were the only thing left. Presumably, the sewers, which have been under reconstruction at that time, were the right place to look for ruins.
Charles muttered something incomprehensible, small movements of his full, tantalizing lips tempted Erik to imagine indecent things he'd like to do to those lips. Erik shook his head to make the disturbing visions go away and Hank emphatically cleared his throat next to him. Shit, he has been right here all the time.
The map migrated to Erik and Charles came up to the round concrete cover in the ground, swept the surface clean with his sleeve as he effortlessly showed the heavy lid aside, the display of power a convincing proof that his wounds have healed. Dry leaves rusted under Erik's feet, reminding him that it was almost the end of October, Raven and the others were shopping in the town for Halloween decorations, maybe have gone to the movies — so thought Charles, and maybe to the bar, darkly mused Erik —there was one underground place where they didn't ask for driving license, especially if you have supernatural creature written on your forehead in big shiny letters.
Sewers smelled not quite as terribly as he was expecting.
Hank was watching the exit and monitoring their route from the car. Erik marveled at technological equipment they had on their hands — spending Charles' enormous fortune like water — no wonder Erik was not completely on board with the fact.
This time he's taken the sword, the familiar weight of the blade soothing his nerves.
Charles was three steps ahead, flawlessly navigating through tunnels and speaking to Hunk in a hushed voice.
"That's the area where the signal weakens," he diligently informed Erik over his shoulder, "soon, it'll disappear and we're on our own. Hank agreed, that this phenomenon may be prompted by electromagnetic field deflection, which is sometimes caused by potent magic emanations…"
Erik listened, mesmerized, the general meaning waving him goodbye, but leaving behind smooth, rich texture of Charles' voice, literal music to Erik's ears.
"This place, the stones here used to form the foundation of the temple. Erik, look," the wall of the tunnel was radiating pale blue light, coming from disgustingly looking, pulsating clod on the wall, one look at which made Erik's stomach contract in horrible spasm.
Charles touched it before Erik could stop him.
"Slime," unnecessarily observed he.
"Do you touch everything you lay your eyes on?" the desire to drag Charles away from possible danger, strangle him for ignoring the basic precautions and hold him close were tearing Erik apart.
"No, of course not," Charles frowned in curiosity at the shimmering substance covering his fingers.
"The cursed sphere," dryly reminded Erik and in response received sourness written all over his face, "How are you so old and still so carefree!"
"Erik, the remark about my age was completely uncalled for," sulked Charles.
The urge to apologize and wipe the hurt expression from Charles' face was eating at Erik. Damn, what's wrong with him, there are more important issues to deal with. Where is the relic? The only thing which was different about this tunnel was ugly something on the wall. The demonic sporule? Alien fetus? Erik felt inclination to impale the thing on his sword, whatever it was. Better safe than sorry.
"Erik, you watch too much modern television," gently interrupted his frantic thoughts Charles.
"How did you…" Erik could swear on the memory of his mother, that he didn't utter a single word.
Your hair is a disaster, thought Erik with intent.
Charles immediately combed his clean hand through thick strands, his composure shattering into pieces.
It really worked.
Erik stared — completely at a loss.
"Have you just read my mind?" started Erik, "I was not speaking aloud, mind that."
Charles visibly gulped and looked away.
"We've found the relic," he took a step to the shimmering clod, which now grew dimmer, "To be more precise, what is left of it, look here, it leaks through the crack in the wall, the substance was probably kept in the vessel of the sort. Erik, can I borrow your flask, please?"
Erik carefully emptied the flask, making sure that no single drop of holy water was left.
Charles started filling it with sticky substance using his penlight as spatula and animatedly talking in the process:
"That's unusual! I honestly admit, I've been expected something akin to vambrace or helmet, but to think that relic can be preserved through centuries in this state. On the other hand, the pendant is obviously hand-made… Erik, do you have any ideas? Does one drink it or you just rub it on the skin? I doubt that it works like that though; I can't hear you since I wiped my hand clean. For the record, your mind is pretty structuralized, not that I can compare… Speaking of which…"
Erik froze in trepidation. Had Charles heard any other thoughts?
"What are we going to do with this mind-reading stuff? Do we hide it? Destroy it?" Charles tucked the flack in his pocket and then cracked a big, beautiful smile, "We may use it as well, as a slimy trump card, what do you say?"
Next moment they simultaneously turned to the direction they have come from as Erik swiftly unleashed the sword, taking step closer to flank Charles, should the need arise.
Light wind curled on the surface of water, tiny whirl forming exactly where Erik was standing a second ago.
"Six," informed him Charles, "Five vampires and one human. That sorcerer, Erik!"
The implications of his appearance were horrible, if only…
"Has he noticed us yet?"
"Not sure," Charles nodded at the tiny vortex, "those are the beacons. Generally weak magic meant to alert the wielder to hostile presence. And yet the element of air won't help him much in the realm of earth and water."
Erik has heard doubt in his carefully measured voice and that, more than anything else helped him to make up his mind. He won't run — not now, not ever.
All his life he was seeking vengeance; he does now, but, Erik grimly tightened his grip on the sword, maybe Logan, the asshole, was kind of right, maybe every hunter needs another, more solid reason to fight.
"I can divert their attention from you," Charles touched his shoulder, "Take the flask and go."
Trust Charles to interrupt his inner encouragement speech by his ridiculous schemes.
"You're impossible," muttered Erik, unable to find it in his heart to scold Charles for presuming that Erik will leave him alone.
"We are together in this. Besides, I have the magic resilient relic, the sacred sword and the elderly vampire by my side," smirked Erik, satisfied with Charles' indignant protest, and added, with steel determination which surprised him as well, "Retreat is not an option. Not for a hunter and certainly not for me."
Charles took it as his final word as he stuffed the flask back into his pocket, his movements once again sharp and efficient.
"Flashlights have to go, I'll guide you from now on," his eyes glinted with familiar yellow light one last time before Erik was wrapped in the blackness from head to toe.
"Don't worry, Erik, darkness is my faithful ally. Take my hand."
His hand met Charles' without hesitation.
They passed the turn which, by Erik's observations had to lead to exit, but he didn't question Charles. Soon he heard them too, just around the corner. Nearby.
Erik tugged the vampire closer when the sudden realization struck him, he reached for the dagger he always kept on his person and firmly clasped Charles' fingers round the hilt. Charles didn't take any weapon tonight; Erik is going to have a word with him later. He imagined Charles' grateful smile and couldn't help squeezing him tighter, his disobedient arms going around Charles' shoulders as his cheek rested on the soft strands of hair.
The splash of water made Erik drop his hands as Charles slipped away and the ferocious roar of the first dying vampire set everything in motion.
No need to be discreet any longer — Erik immediately rushed into the battle. The sorcerer so very handy created some sort of light-ball for illumination. He slashed through the body next to him with perfect aim, vampire evaporating in the cloud of dust and noticed Charles from the corner of his eye doing the same. Two to go. And the sorcerer. Erik dodged the attack and quickly looked back in time to see the bastard turning his gaze to Charles — evidently deemed him more dangerous between the two of them. Erik blindly punched the attacking vampire in the face, forgetting about his sword, about everything, as he dashed to the Charles' side.
The wave of pure energy came to nothing around them, Charles' grip on his forearm relaxed and Erik smiled in grim satisfaction. He turned to face the enemy, regretful to let go of Charles, but he needed to finish it quickly. The magical attack eliminated the remaining vampire and the three of them stood in the tunnel in oppressive silence, the rings in the water the only sign of what had happened.
Never before had he the chance to closely examine man's pale features, dark longish hair and shrewd eyes. He was human and he cooperated with Shaw. There must be coercion involved, and if so, Erik could offer…
The words which have fallen from the man's lips meant nothing to Erik, but Charles gasped and forcefully tugged his arm, dashing back in the tunnel they came from.
"Erik, the relic won't help. He's going to tear down the walls!"
Shit, the bastard's decided to bury them alive.
Powerful rumble blanketed all his thoughts.
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"There's no place to be but the nice, quiet cemetery, after you've nearly died under the debris," Erik wiped the sweat and dust from his forehead and sat on the ground next to Charles, who smiled like a loon, happy and addictive, a beautiful vision adorned with autumn foliage, pale colours twisted by the moonlight.
"That was close," said Charles, looking up at Erik from there he was stretched on the withered grass, teasing spark in his gaze, "Is this infamous hunter's luck?"
"Shut up," Erik closed his eyes, taking in the distinctive smell of fading leaves and enjoying the light cold breeze on his face. They were lucky that Charles has memorized the route and possible ways of retreat, they were lucky that the exit was so close and they nearly died when… Stop it. Does it matter if this is finally over?
He had spread himself too thin recently: constantly on the move, fighting, struggling…
The inner voice is eerily silent, not that Erik listens to its nonsense anyway.
It just happened that their lips met halfway. Erik, absolutely sure that he was the one to lean down for a kiss, and Charles, later pointing out that he himself reached for Erik.
It was cold at first, cold and simple press of lips, lacking effort, but something inside Erik growled in triumph and the kiss became openmouthed, all passion poured in the deliberate caress.
"That was not a dream," whispered Charles, when Erik slowly drew back to catch a breath, "Erik, do you remember? I thought, oh my…"
"Likewise," Erik put his hand on Charles' chest and gently pushed him back onto the leaves, effectively cutting off any further needless words with his mouth.
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