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"My friend, please, hold still."
He gritted his teeth as Charles was tending to his injured wrist, swollen and twisted, and therefore pulsating with sharp shards of pain — as if somebody was meticulously sticking hot nails in the hand.
"Brocken?"
Nodding, Charles pursed his lips in a thin line, nimble fingers carefully applying bandages, white stripes quickly produced from Charles' own shirt.
"Fuck!"
He needs that hand to hold a sword, damn.
"In a week it should be fine. With your amazing healing rate…"
"We don't have a week, Charles," yeah, no time for tea and sympathy.
"We don't…" diligently echoed Charles, fixing the loose end in place and finally meeting Erik's gaze. He has also received his share of some nasty looking bruises and cuts, but nothing worse, thank gods for small mercies.
Under the moonlight, which was somber and sad as it illuminated the patch of the area previously overcrowded with raging vampires, they were sitting on the bench outside the ring-fence embracing the cemetery. Leaning on the helpful wood, Erik had been only catching his breath, when Charles started fussing over him. The battle was intense, the residual adrenaline still rushing through his bloodstream, numbing the pain together with excitement. By then, Raven and Alex have reached the mansion and reported to Charles that the laboratory in the basement was torn apart — only the red demon could get there so fast, was the first lucky guess, — several rooms have been thoroughly ravished likewise, but, anyway, it was not as awful as Erik had dreaded. Hank escaped with the flask before it started. Thankfully, he's just been doing tests in the laboratory when he noticed the suspicious glowing and vibration coming from the relic. Having a contingency plan for every happenstance is an incredibly awesome idea, darkly mused Erik. Hence, they have managed to keep the relics in their hands but for how long.
Reluctantly, he had let Charles help him to his feet which was completely unnecessary of course, but Erik didn't want to deny himself the pleasure of the other's caring touch.
"How do we get to Raven now?" grumbled Erik, straightening his legs.
His question went unanswered when Charles visibly tensed and turned around on his heels, letting go of Erik's arm.
"Hunter," the succubus was leaning against the tree, white figure making quite a striking contrast with surrounding shadows, the silver of gun steady presence in her outstretched hand, "nice meeting you again."
"And you," she playfully cocked a barrel in Charles' direction, and continued in a silkily voice, "are the walking nuisance Sebastian likes to complain about. We've met so briefly, that I didn't have a nice chance to see for myself what kind of vampire has been making Sebastian more and more twitchy. I have to say that you don't strike me as a worthy opponent, but with your kind you never know."
As Erik has suspected, she was just too willing to chat his ears off.
"What the hell do you want?" two can play at that game and besides, Erik inwardly cringed, in terms of speed and strength they have been nearly equal, and at the same time she was not that exhausted, plus the gun — risking another injury didn't seem like a good idea right now.
"Erik," his companion said in what he believed was a placating manner, "I think that the lady simply wants to talk."
"Thank you, sugar," she sounded amused. "I'm pleased to meet someone who knows what good manners are."
Erik growled for lack of better words. This is not a frigging gala or a fund-raiser party, they are on the cemetery, for fuck's sake.
She took a step closer, gracefully moving forward, every single motion of her body dripping with seduction and… Erik frowned, when he didn't feel the heat so memorable since their last meeting. Smirking at him in the all-knowing manner, she hid the gun in the purse which was as blindingly white as the rest of her attire and promptly occupied the middle of the bench. Somehow, that has made Erik feel like a fool — he and Charles were left standing of course. Damn witch!
"So," he asserted her posture with the healthy amount of caution, "spill. And do it quickly!"
Small pains and aches have finally caught up with him, the broken wrist was on fire, his head was pounding on top of that — Erik has been having the stubbornly increasing headaches since the nightmare, which didn't improve his mood in the slightest.
"Presumably, I have something you may be interested in…" drawled the succubus. Normally, Erik would use this opportunity to attack or run, if the circumstances demanded, but when he stole a glance at Charles, standing attentive and alert, he decided to bear with it for a little longer.
"Up until now you've been on the other side of… hmm… of the conflict," rather lamely offered Charles, his voice quieter than normal.
She shrugged in response, the corners of her lips curled upwards after she's looked Charles up and down in a way that immediately made Erik see red.
"Initially, it was my destiny to work with pleasure, the most basic and natural desires for both men and women, and the most sacred for that matter. There's no need to explain the mechanics for you, except," the succubus looked from Erik to Charles, mischief sparkling in her otherwise cold blue eyes, "you may need some tutoring, sugar. For a fellow demon, I can offer an extremely sufficient bargain."
"Me? I, n-no, thank you," gulped Charles, earning himself a tug so that Erik could drag him closer to jostle from the spell.
"Stop it!" he bellowed, the remnants of patience flying right out of the window.
"I shall," predatory smile twisted her mouth, "but you're so over each other that I couldn't refrain from testing the state of affairs — this is the art of planting discord in the depths of receptive hearts, part of habit, so to say."
"Erik!" Charles was holding his good arm in a steel grip. "Please, calm down! Erik, she's doing it on purpose."
"I know," shot back Erik. And I want to smash her face in, regardless.
"You and Raven must be related," murmured Charles, taking his hand back.
His face shifted, the vampire mask falling back into place.
"I can't exactly let you go back now," drily said Charles. "You have to understand that. Won't it be more convenient to go straight to the topic?"
"We're dropping the pretence here, I like it," her skin rippled, darkening to deep purple, eyes gleamed with bright green, hair whitened. The end of the long, darkish tail twined around her ankle and Erik's eyes has nearly popped out — he's seen the sketches in the oldest books, but this creature was something totally alien, neither human, nor demonic, mostly resembling the wet dream of every fantasy fan suddenly coming alive in all its seductive glory. Well, now he knows how a real-life succubus should look.
"I've brought this," she lifted her wrist with a massive bracelet, "to show you that my intentions are as pure as possible. It grants you the power to become invisible and untraceable and I'm going to use it to its full extent to get away from here."
To tell the truth a tiny part of Erik had harbored the hope that all Charles' hypothesizing about the descending of the most fearful demon in the history of the realm, provided by Shaw, would prove wrong, that, perhaps, the bastard is simply after the powerful magic. As if.
If past experience has taught him something — they would be facing the catastrophe twice bigger than expected.
"He needs a hunter, the descendant of the demon, to gather all relics together and open the passage," she said, staring Erik down. "And for some reason he has decided that you would make a perfect vessel, handsome."
Charles didn't appear surprised, but he, at least, had the decency to look at Erik with guilty eyes.
Erik didn't let his expression slip even a bit. The rest of the news was also fucking terrific. Emma, as she has introduced herself to them, was taking the relic and fleeing the town, because as funny as the affair has been before, she did see a lot in her lifetime and the descend of the powerful demon, the name was hissed through her teeth and Charles gasped, shocked, is the last thing on her list. From the very beginning, Shaw promised them something akin to establishing royalty in the world of demons and supernatural beings, enslaving for the humans and the throne for his beautiful queen.
How old are you — he was tempted to snarl, half a millennium behind your shoulders and you still believe in the fairy-tales. She can be young enough, observed his ever present annoying consultant, don't forget that she has started as a human, like Charles—only in her case, the metamorphosis was the conscious choice of the mortal woman once betrayed by her beloved. Or so say the legends.
As it happened, realized Erik, Shaw has become too powerful to kill him and too insane to manipulate him.
"What do you want from us? Help?"asked Erik with a warning smirk, heart hammering in his chest for a completely different reason. Later. Charles must tell him what she has meant by demonic descendant later.
"I want you to stop him," the succubus stood up and glowered at him. "A young man like yourself shouldn't be so grumpy," suddenly she looked up at the moon and shrugged, "as I have mentioned before you interrupted me, my business is mainly pleasure, and there will be no pleasure in the realm absorbed by the darkness itself. He will descend and swallow the entire world… the ultimate nightmare, the hell master, the one who is darker than the darkness…"
Before his mind's eye he's seen the tendrils of the dark matter, crawling to him, to devour him alive, to swallow his flesh and his soul, to make him disappear completely.
"Thank you, Emma," a mix of quiet respect and ruefulness filtered through Charles' eyes. "But, I do have one more question if you can spare a minute."
"Everything for you, sugar."
"Tell us, how he knew about…"
"Oh, that?" she has approached Charles and leaned to whisper something in his ear, too close for Erik's liking.
Charles tensed, then nodded and after that shuddered and clasped her hand.
"Hey, get away from him!" time to end this shit, Erik's irritation has hit the highest point.
"There's no need to worry about your paramour's virtue," nevertheless, she quickly stepped aside, the tail instantly slipping from Charles' thigh, and smirked, before disappearing on the spot, no warnings and goodbyes in order. This one had a thing for theatrics, scowled Erik. The perfect companion for Shaw.
They both had been silent for a while, for different reasons, until Charles sighed and slowly, uncertainly, as if not daring, all the more terrified for that, approached him and calmly looked up, the dark pupils completely obscuring the irises and making him look even more outworldly than before.
"Erik," he was ready to plead, noticed Erik, as he's considered himself guilty for some reason. He can't watch Charles do it.
"You can't!"
"I wanted to tell you… What?"
"Fuck, I mean, I don't blame you for concealing the dreadfully important information concerning myself… It sounds terrible," he huffed out a breath. "Okay, I'm angry, but not too much. You'd better tell me everything right now and I won't be angry any more. Deal?"
"Yes, that will do… I, thank you, Erik, this is a bit unusual but, ah, I'm glad, thanks! So I didn't fully realize it the first time I attempted the translation. Later, I couldn't help but wonder that something was probably amiss, so then I started checking all the references and soon the picture was more or less clear. Let's assume, that the mages, sealing the demon's spirit, had committed a crime, you must remember that the demon couldn't be killed by the hand of the mortal. In the search of power they attempted villainy unheard of, and thus sealed the part of the spirit in the body of the mightiest man, who could withstand the weight of it and serve the mages, fighting for the realm. The hero, the first hunter…" the desolation was spilling from his every word, guilt, shame and regret. "Sometimes it feels as if I have been there and have seen it with my own eyes, I don't know why, but I am somehow able to see it so clearly, like the burden is mine to carry…"
He calmed down in Erik's arms, hands tightly wound round Erik's waist as Charles has been holding for dear life.
Persistently bright visions were unfolding before Erik's eyes again.
"I know what dream I'm seeing next, then," he chuckled, slightly despising himself for yielding to his weakness.
"The strength, the speed, the healing abilities and the sense of incoming danger are more than outstanding for ordinary people," said Charles. "If it was just a genetical quirk, a mutation, when why is it so selective. The right answer is that every hunter has a part of the demon, sealed within, thus all the benefits..."
"Demon? I'm not even surprised," Erik closed his eyes — how long was Shaw searching for the information, how many hunters did he kill, everyone from the Inner Circle and now it makes sense. Somebody in the Brotherhood must know the truth, and Erik was never been considered mature enough to be trusted with this, but this is his life… what else does he not know about himself.
"You are you, Erik. First and foremost, you're my hero," beatific smile blossomed on Charles' face. "My love," he whispered, a touch shyly, "my dear friend…"
"What was she doing with that tail, Charles? You've been squirming," embarrassed, he clumsily attempted to change the topic.
Come on, say it at last, you fucking chicken. A couple of short, simple words can't be that hard to pronounce — inner voice was bitching more than ever, damn.
Oblivious Charles has let himself be distracted from the issue in the way which involved a lot of kissing and touching, Erik's one-handedness making it a little awkward but soon not bothering them anymore.
What are you doing, man? Do you have no place to be right now? The world is ending.
Shut the fuck up.
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