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No wonder that after the last night's adventures his dreams were full of ominous, truly terrible stuff — he was still seeing the flashes as soon as he closed his eyes. The visions have been imbedded in his mind: vivid, powerful images, threatening to leave constant imprints on his eyelids as they were unfolding before his mind's eye, unfortunately too fresh to will them away. Shaw, the strange helmet obscuring his features, standing on the edge of the abyss, holding the pendant in the outstretched hand as scarlet blood was pooling at his feet; Raven in her blue form, fighting by his side; he also has seen himself, lying motionless on the stone floor, neck twisted at an unnatural angle, blank eyes staring at nothing; Charles, hurriedly snatching the flask from Hank and gulping down the contents and again there were relentless shadows with spidery fingers and Charles, reaching out for him and turning to dust in Erik's embrace… Erik woke up with Charles' name on his lips, silent scream threatening to tear from his throat, sheets twisted round his body vine-like, pillows and duvet thrown on to the floor somewhere in the middle of his fitful, totally restless sleep.
After splashing face with icy cold water, he let his grip on the pristine surface of the sink go lax. In the moments like this, Erik hated his life, his fucking not-so-honorable-at-all destiny, secretly wishing to be someone else, but not a forever doomed fighter. The reflection in the merciless mirror calmly observed Erik with weary, tired gaze, the pallor of skin making him look like a vampire and it was nothing like Charles' complexion, which, decided Erik, was much more aristocratic than his sickly white face, currently bearing the evidence of the lingering nightmare, weariness and general lack of good rest.
Charles was nowhere to be found, so Erik strolled to the library, hoping to catch him there. The need to see him was especially consuming in the aftermath of the dream, and though Erik knew for sure that he has never had any prophetic visions before in his entire life, the persistent fear was pushing him forward in his ministrations.
Upon opening the doors he observed a peaceful picture — Raven was curled on the sofa, under the red and black afghan, carefully tucked around her sleeping form. Charles was smoothing the blanket as he turned to face Erik.
Too preoccupied with the dream, he's forgotten about the conversation they had had with Raven and Alex after coming home. Erik let Charles do the talking, trusting him to present the truth in the moderated light, because all he could say was bordering on — yeah, the demon was damn right, Shaw is immensely powerful and becoming more so, soon he will call the demon and the world will be destroyed, he had tortured and nearly killed Charles and someone of you has already known it long ago.
Charles motioned for him to be quiet, but still eagerly melted in the embrace, as soon as Erik beckoned him closer to the door to plant the series of small kisses on his lips, chin, cheekbones, along the cut on his temple, while Charles happily nuzzled up against him. Erik's suddenly got a mental image of an overly affectionate cat and appreciatively chuckled when Charles ran his hands along his chest, the firm pressure provided by the simple caress stirring a fire in the pit of his stomach.
"Erik," he murmured, barely audible, "is that your hand?"
"Obviously. Don't like it?"
"Ah, I do. I…yes, Erik. But not in here, Raven's asleep, oh — feels wonderful…"
"Sure you want me to go?"
"I want us to… good. Erik… I mean, let's go... the laboratory."
"What?" to tell the truth Erik had a different location on his mind, the one with a bed or a sofa without any relatives-shapeshifters in vicinity.
Charles stroked his hair, fond and regretful.
"Erik, my friend," he still calls me that — dumbly thought Erik, "we need to talk to Hank. Something dreadfully important has come up."
"Shaw," scowled Erik.
The bastard manages to spoil Erik's life even from afar.
"Also…" Charles closed the doors and hesitated.
"Is anything bothering you at the moment? Erik, you seem very exhausted — not that you don't have every reason to be, but… you can tell me everything. You know, you can."
Does he look that bad or is it just Charles?
No, Charles is really worried — now that Erik had mustered courage to properly hold his attentive gaze he saw it himself. How did Erik come to read the other man with such effortlessness remained a secret. He just did. Apparently, this is a two-way street.
"Just a dream."
"Ah, understood," Charles has accepted dismissal well, more prudent to wait for the right time than to pry now.
"How are you so perfect for me?"
In Charles' presence his brain once in a while switched to autopilot, hence the most embarrassing words leaving his mouth unrestrained. Charles lowered his eyes as he was clearly attempting to hide astonishment, a demure smile blossoming like a warm sunbeam and Erik was immediately drawn to him, trying to soak up that incredible light.
Indeed, he was doomed.
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Hank opened the drawer and cautiously took out the half-burned piece of paper, his manners impressively deft and efficient as he laid the paper on the clean surface of the desk for everybody to see. Taking a single look at the illustration made Erik feel the all familiar sick twist deep inside; fate can never resist stabbing him.
"I saw it," he forced out a few words, "In my dream Shaw was already wearing it. What's this?"
The sketch showed a helmet of the curious design, the one Erik has seen so clearly, as clearly as he was able to feel blood on his hands or the very real anguish together with piercing despair — the senses chaining him to the nightmare, which, so it appears, was not a dream at all.
"You're probably right, some elements of the dream may be prophetic," Charles pinched the bridge of his nose after listening to Erik's explanation, the gesture aimed to provide him with brief relief, "Thank you for sharing, Erik."
"Everybody is concerned, so why not…" travelled he.
"The book of Elevation tells us about mighty warriors revealing the divine will…" Hank was the only one undisturbed, "The credibility of the source is doubtful though, the book is only a replica of the original tablets and who knows what else was lost to us due to translation. Either way, as a hunter, you suit the description even more now, because earlier Heaven's will has been traditionally interpreted as inclination."
Erik remembered one thing about prophecies —there were roughly two kinds of them. The first were meant as warnings, sign of impending danger or evil — those could and ought to be averted, but the second pictured the clear glimpses of the upcoming events and in this case any endeavor to stave off the future was destined to end in vain.
Charles shook his head when Erik has mentioned this.
"Although some of the elements might come to be predictions, I doubt that the whole dream counts. Well, consider it a tandem of the kind: glimpses from the future and your subconsciousness. Some parts of what you've told me don't stick together. This helmet, for instance… Hank, may I borrow that?"
"Belonged to the greatest warrior, who has died in order to defeat the demon," helpfully added Hank, offering Charles his tablet — and Erik thought back to the legend.
"It has to be a powerful asset, the protection from demonic powers."
"Do you know the place?" simply asked Erik, staring at the sketch, Hank and Charles' rationality had appeared incredibly contagious at the end.
"There's no need," Charles tapped the screen of the device, which, even to Erik, who appreciated high tech, looked like a gadget out of the futuristic movie and showed them the display. "I've just bought the lot 43, introduced as a helmet of the Roman legionary, also family heirloom, which is overpriced by at least ten thousand. Saw it the other day and decided to check the site."
Fuck, he is brilliant— woke up his inner voice.
"I hope this is the one," mentioned Hank, heedless, "Otherwise, I've run out of ideas."
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Patrolling the cemetery with Charles by his side was a leisure stroll. Patrolling with Charles, Raven and Alex was completely different, totally unlike the pleasant tryst.
"Come on, Charles, let's check the fresh graves together. Erik and Alex can pair up and search around the old witches' sepulture."
After the truth about their encounter with Shaw had been revealed, Raven has glued herself to her brother's side whenever possible. You won't understand — she told Erik the first time he asked why she's chosen to live with a vampire — what we've been through together cemented our relationship; did you know that Charles has found me on the streets and has given me everything… Erik didn't understand then, but does he now? In the way she behaved around Charles he saw not so subtle need and devotion and wondered at Charles' ability to diffuse all kinds of uncomfortable situations sprouting up from teenage girl's crush without hurting her feelings in the process. Many years of experience belonged particularly to Charles and have helped him to master that uneasy task of navigating the sea of human world. One had to learn if eager to survive. Judging by everything Erik has deduced and had been briefly told by Charles, the road to becoming his own self again for Charles as a vampire was paved with broken glass. That was Charles for you, making the impossible possible — Erik privately smiled, heart stuttering for a moment when he remembered a dream.
"Lehnsherr," Alex stepped up closer and lowered his voice, "we need to talk."
Stupid, wanted to remark Erik — at this distance, at about thirty feet away, the old vampire like Charles will certainly hear you talking. Not that it matters anyway.
"So," Erik made a meaningful pause, "how is your investigation going on, Sherlock?"
Alex scowled.
"At least I'm doing something."
"I have no doubt."
"Look, Lehnsherr," the kid sounded a bit tired, which prompted a pang of unwanted sympathy, "I want to help."
"Alright," Erik could give him a chance, he felt no need to fret over bunch of occasionally rebellious, foolish teenagers, that was Charles' prerogative and Charles never overdid it as well.
"Darwin has agreed to help us," inspired by his nod Alex sped up, "that makes six of us: you, me, Raven, Charles, Hank and him. Angel and Sean are out of the question for now, and since you've practically burned down the left wing of the school, we suddenly have prolonged holidays."
"I've always thought that they were also leaving in the mansion," muttered Erik and eyed Alex.
"No, of course not!" he raised both eyebrows on Erik, thinking something uncomplimentary — he could bet his sword on it. "Sean's parents are constantly travelling around the country, so he stays with us most of the time and everyone's used to this. Angel's mother usually doesn't give a damn…"
That was it — Charles, implying that there may be consequences for kids, refusing to believe that the betrayal can be consensual. Did he mean their respective families? More than that, Charles purposefully renditioned all of them from the equation. Have finally realized what kind of evil are they fighting this time…
"I'll find out who did this," firmly stated Alex, "rest assured, Lehnsherr."
"Have fun," Erik couldn't be less sincere — after all, not every day you find a traitor in your so-to-say-family; that must be thrilling. It's not that Erik didn't care for the kids, but that would never compare with how much he cared for Charles.
Regrettably for Erik and Alex the trip to the sepulture was a waste of time, the leaves around the stone structure undisturbed. No vampire in sight, which was definitely unusual for the cemetery situated straight on the hellhole.
"All clear!" Alex dutifully nodded, "Okay. I'll tell him. Fuck, the signal is no good. Yes, the eastern gates."
"Are they done?"
"Yes, that's all for tonight. Strangely quiet, isn't it?"
I have a really bad feeling about this, thought Erik wearily as he watched Alex's unusually haggard and drawn face. The odds are not in their favor, not at all. They quickly approached the exit, Charles and Raven waiting for them outside. The moon was obscured by a thick grey cloud, the shape of a dragon, as Erik's eyes have followed the shadow running on the ground until it caught up with their little group and cloaked everything in dark. The air of mysteriousness has lingered and at the same time dread stirred in Erik's heart.
Alex gasped and nearly doubled, clutching his chest as he swayed on his feet.
"Magic," he shook his head when Erik took a step in his direction, "don't, don't come closer…"
"Alex!" Charles appeared at his side in a flash, "Where?"
"Everywhere, I, fuck, I don't know," he panted.
Suddenly, Erik felt a slight vibration — his shocked expression was not left unnoticed by Charles. He slowly pulled out the pendant, which was now emitting a dull blue glow. Oh fuck, he dumbly stared at Charles like a drowning man must look at an approaching lifeboat, all hope concentrating in those calm blue eyes turned yellow, which bore into his own with burning intensity.
"Shaw has found the location of the pendant and the flask, I believe," observed Charles, reserved.
The vampire in him always spoke in the way which sent shivers down Erik's spine, making him excited for no particular reason. Gods, this is not the time to think those thoughts. Shit!
"Here they come," Alex's voice carried the certainty with a hint of poorly concealed dread.
The first vampire came into the view when they reached the gates. Raven performed a well placed kick in the stomach and swiftly drove the stake through the creature's chest in mid motion, her movements fluid and deadly.
"Alex, we don't have time for this!"
"Okay," breathed out the boy and the two approaching bloodsuckers were swept to the side by the blazing wave of energy.
"Raven," she caught the keys in midair as Charles quickly bit out, "you're driving."
Erik knew where it was going this time.
"I'm staying with you," after all as a hunter he couldn't let the vampires run around unattended, and had to do his job.
Alex attempted to say something, but Charles has apparently read his mind.
"Alex, I need you in the mansion."
"Erik," Charles leaned to kiss him so unexpectedly, that Erik didn't manage to react in a proper way — he pulled away too soon.
Raven whistled behind his shoulder and forcibly dragged slack-jawed Alex into the car.
"Of course you stay," smiled Charles, mischief alight in his non-human eyes as the vampires emerged from the shadows. So many, thought Erik, his mind registering the squeal of tyres — Raven's gonna burn the rubber like that, and the roar of the first vampire, stabbed by Charles.
Okay, he grinned. He's dancing with death again tonight — child's play.
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