Day 5

Draco was once again sitting on the rug in front of the couch, with the vampire reading a newspaper behind him. Draco had a small volume about bloodmagic opened in front of him, finally having found the courage to read deeper into the subject after Asmodeus' little speech yesterday.

To his surprise, the brief overview in the Compendium of Magicks had turned out to be far less dark than he had assumed. Sure, there was a lot of blood and pain involved, but not necessarily others' blood and pain. And as long as nobody else was involved, Draco thought, it wasn't that bad. He could even appreciate the artistry of linking all those runes together to intrinsically change the properties of something.

Of course, even though he was fascinated with the theoretical principles that were explained in a very interesting way in the book in front of him, he wasn't insane enough to try his own hand at it. First off, the risk of something going wrong was far too high in his opinion. Secondly, he liked his life as pain- and bloodless as possible, thank you very much, and thirdly, bloodmagic was a long-term project. From what he had read, having one or two stage one rituals was hardly worth the effort if one didn't continue to higher levels, and that could take years.

No, Draco rather stuck to potions, charms and transfigurations. That was much quicker, less painful, more easily reversible, and much less dangerous.

Still, reading about bloodmagic was … intriguing. He never would have thought about some of the ideas that went into the theory. But somehow, he couldn't concentrate on it today. He could feel it in his bones that there was something wrong, and this feeling had been with him for several hours.

It had started with breakfast, when Asmodeus hadn't been up yet. That in itself had been very unusual; normally, the sorcerer got up so early that he'd already finished with breakfast before Draco even woke up. The vampire had fed on him, as usual, but ever since, there had been a strange, restless energy hovering around him that made Draco fidget anxiously. And the vampire hadn't let him out of sight, insisting that Draco stayed right next to him besides the couch.

Asmodeus still hadn't come down.

The vampire was reading his newspaper in a language Draco didn't understand but thought it was Spanish. Every time the vampire turned a page, Draco almost flinched from the sudden noise, losing the place in his own book. He thought he had read the same page three times already, but he still didn't know what was written there.

Suddenly, there was another strange energy rising, coming from above. It felt mad with agony, completely lost in pain. It grew in strength, making Draco shiver down to his bones until with a sudden electric discharge, it disappeared completely. Panting slightly from the unnerving sensation, Draco looked up at the vampire to see if he had felt the second energy surge, and the vampire was looking intently at the door to the sitting room.

A few minutes later, Asmodeus came in, looking quite exhausted. Draco inhaled sharply, wondering what was responsible for his pitiful state. Beneath his somewhat groomed exterior, Asmodeus seemed tired and shaken, but still trying to hide it. Had the energy surge earlier come from him?

Asmodeus was quite pale, digging his fingers into the doorframe as if it was all that was holding him up.

"Some supporters of Voldemort attacked the Master of Paris last evening," the vampire said in lieu of a greeting.

Draco watched how Asmodeus slumped even further against the doorframe, not quite sure whether in relief or exhaustion. Mariah had told Draco some about the most basic vampire politics, and Draco knew that attacking a Master in his own territory was akin to a declaration of war. Asmodeus' relief made absolutely no sense.

"And?" Asmodeus asked. Draco wondered why Asmodeus seemed to relax more and more. Didn't he also feel the strange energy inside the room?

"He's built a new law of his own," the vampire replied. "Crimes against vampires fall under vampire law. Apparently, a vampire died – a legally existing vampire, that is. All the attackers captured – that's four wizards – will be providing a steady source of blood for his vampires."

Draco shivered. He doubted that those four wizards would be treated as well as he was. Mariah had shown him her dungeons, telling him that they had been unused for several decades, but that they were for keeping live blood-fodder. Not slaves, but those that had committed crimes against her and whose blood shouldn't be wasted by spilling. They had reminded Draco far too much of his own living conditions under the Dark Lord's care, scaring him out of his wits.

Asmodeus groaned. "Aw crap. Public outrage amongst mortals will start as soon as the paper arrives."

Yes, with the way things were going in Europe, this was bound to stir big circles. How could vampires be allowed to make their own laws? If left unchecked, what were vampires going to do next? Enslave or turn every mortal they could find? Make it mandatory for everyone to become donors? Draco shuddered at that thought, but Asmodeus seemed to be more disturbed at the potential of mortals rebelling. Didn't he think of scenarios like the one Draco had just imagined, or did he know that he'd be protected by strong vampires in such a case? Would Asmodeus even mind if vampires took over the law?

Slowly, Asmodeus began to regain color and changed the subject. "Did you figure out the problem with your next ritual?"

Draco listened up. Were they talking about bloodmagic?

"Progress, but not fixed," the vampire sighed. From what Draco had already read in his book, designing rituals could be hideously complex. He had been very relieved to discover that a whole branch of blood magic relied on one's own pain and blood, making it somewhat more acceptable for Draco than the Dark Lord's tendency to torture and sacrifice whatever victim he could get his hands on.

The vampire picked up a few papers from the couch table that had been just out of Draco's line of sight. Were they the design for the ritual? He curiously watched the vampire hand them over to Asmodeus, who was studying them intently, commenting absently.

"You know, I've been thinking all you might really need is a different knife. I know you've tried everything in the Akren bloodmagic armory and just about everything your family has, perhaps it's time to look further."

From what he had read in the Compendium of Magicks, Akren set the standards for bloodmagic and several other obscure branches of magic. And, since he hadn't known what Akren was, he had looked it up in one of his the other books he had been given. To say that he had been surprised would have been an understatement. A whole school where almost nothing was taboo, which was more vicious than Durmstrang, and which allowed all species to attend? A school that was geared almost solely to combat, violence, and survival, but nonetheless brought forth standards that were unbelievably high also in non-combatative disciplines?

Why hadn't he ever heard of such a school? Not that he wanted to go there – having classes with vampires and werewolves and whatever other creatures there were around would be horrifying – but that it hadn't ever been mentioned?

Judging by the comment about the Akren bloodmagic armory, Draco was almost certain that both Asmodeus and the vampire were Akren students. He was quite certain that nobody from the outside was allowed into the school, which in turn would mean that both of them were the toughest of the tough. But surely, at their age, they couldn't be more than students, could they?

He thought back to the fight between Asmodeus and the winged creature a few days ago. He shivered. If that was the level of skill a mere student displayed, he could easily believe that anybody graduating could only be the best.

And the most ruthless, both towards others and themselves.

Some of the rituals Draco had read about actually turned his stomach; he couldn't understand how anybody could keep injuring themselves so deliberately. Draco thought he would go insane if he had to cut precise runes into his skin for eight hours or more. He especially couldn't understand how the two could go on discussing knives so calmly when there always was the knowledge that they'd actually have to use them on their own skin.

"What I need is a blade that will channel the magic it takes in through my veins," the vampire complained.

Asmodeus shrugged his shoulders. "Electricity could be channeled through your blood, and if directed by magic could cover the whole body and finish binding the magic together."

Draco barely suppressed a shudder at the thought of what that had to feel like. He looked up just in time to catch the vampire's disbelieving expression, which morphed into exaggerated pity. "Rahkesh, I hate to disillusion you, but electrocution doesn't solve all of life's problems."

Draco silently had to agree with the vampire; he had found out that Asmodeus was very fond of lightening spells, using them as often as possible. And the vampire had been on the receiving end of them more than once. Considering his affinity for electricity, Draco sometimes wondered if Asmodeus wasn't an elemental, creatures that he had only heard about but never found any real descriptions of.

"It can, if you just allow it to," Asmodeus replied, almost sulkily. Draco took care not to laugh out loud; as nice as Asmodeus usually was, Draco didn't want to find out whether he would use his electricity on a mortal, too.

"Uh huh, Thunder, whatever. You'd love to see me fry myself, wouldn't you?"

Asmodeus growled. "Thunder?"

Draco more felt than saw the vampire shrug. "Ally brought it up again."

From other conversations he had overheard, Draco was quite sure that Ally was female, and a close friend to them. Probably another Akren student. How did women survive in Akren? If it was as ruthless as he had read, they should be the first to be weeded out because of inferior physical strength. But then, Draco had to admit, the general human population should have quite a hard time surviving there, too, since both vampires and werewolves were a lot stronger than them. How did anyone survive there?

"I'll kill her."

"She'll skin you, then disembowel you with her fingernails, tear your eyes out, and make you eat them."

Draco grimaced at that vivid image. He hadn't found out yet whether Ally was human or not. But from the sound of it, she probably was a vampire, or an equally violent species. They took disproportionate pleasure in killing humans – as slowly and as painfully as possible. Shuddering slightly, he forcibly repressed his memories of his own tortures.

Well, that could be one way of survival – excessive violence and taking one's opponent by surprise. Draco would bet quite a bit that anybody surviving Akren would be as paranoid as Madeye Moody.

Preoccupied with his own thoughts, Draco didn't quite hear the next few phrases, only catching Rahkesh's curses again.

"De-fang you! And it doesn't suit me."

"They'd just grow back, and it certainly does suit you, perfectly, oh thunderbird. Grandmother liked it, and so did Namach, and no trying to intimidate Silas out of it this time."

Vampires' teeth grew back? And he'd heard of Silas, too. Another vampire?

"What the fuck? It's a conspiracy!" Asmodeus growled angrily, and as if to prove that his earlier claims of not being obsessed were incorrect, he sent a bolt of lightening at the vampire.

Draco hastily ducked in order to not get hit, seeing that the lightening reflected off some kind of shield around the vampire, who was cackling madly. Luckily it didn't go anywhere near him, because Draco was sure it would have hurt quite a bit. So far, he had gotten off without being fried, and he wanted to keep it that way.

Draco stared after Asmodeus who had stalked off towards the kitchen, probably to get himself some breakfast – or, rather, early lunch judging by the time. The vampire was still chuckling while reclining back onto the couch, taking up the newspaper once again. "That, my dear slave," he commented, highly self-satisfied, "is how you take revenge."

For about the thirtieth time since he had been brought to that cottage, Draco wondered if anyone in here was actually sane. And since when did vampires have grandmothers?

__________

Sitting on his bed in his room, Draco looked up from his volume on bloodmagic which he had spent his afternoon with. Despite being quite thoroughly put off by the idea of carving runes into his skin, he somehow couldn't help his morbid curiosity. He didn't know why, but it sounded interesting in the same way that he liked reading about really dark spells. Pure genius to come up with all those ideas and runic patterns, but pure insanity to actually implement them. One of the first warnings in the book had been that almost fifty percent of all aspiring Blood Mages managed to kill themselves with some kind of ritual.

But hadn't he just heard the front door of the cottage open? They had left after lunch, telling him to behave himself. Asmodeus hadn't added the 'or else', but it had been clear in the vampire's gaze. It was already dark, so had they finally come back after leaving him alone for more than ten hours already? Or was it someone else?

And he didn't have his wand or any other way to defend himself.

On the other hand, an intruder wouldn't have made a noise that could be heard up to the third floor.

Cautiously, he snuck out of his room to the staircase, trying to see who had come in. Downstairs was illuminated brightly, and he could hear voices. After a brief moment, he recognized both Asmodeus and the vampire talking to each other, but he couldn't make out what they were saying.

What had they been doing the whole day? And why had they left at different hours?

Asmodeus had left right after his breakfast-lunch, still incensed about being called Thunder. The vampire had left some time in the afternoon, once again advising Draco to behave or else. It had been the first time that they had left Draco completely alone in the cottage.

Gathering his courage, he slipped down the stairs until he was able to make out words.

"You think … more around?" That was the vampire.

"… quite sure. … strange dream… morning." Asmodeus.

"So that's … reason … bad?"

"You're … right one to talk … projecting enough magic to … even Draco felt it."

"Didn't… see how nicely… he was?"

"… vampires… disgusting."

There was a lull in the conversation that Draco used to think about what he had just heard. Asmodeus had looked that bad in the morning because of a strange dream, which somehow was an indication whether more – something – was around.

Draco shivered, not wanting to imagine what could scare Asmodeus that badly. And what had Asmodeus meant by projecting enough magic that even Draco could feel it? Had the vampire been responsible for the oppressing presence in the sitting room that morning? Or was it something else? An object? And what did it mean that even he felt it? Did Asmodeus and the vampire always feel magical presences? That certainly would explain a lot…

And that also meant that they probably could detect Draco's presence on the stairs. He didn't think that spying on them made a good impression.

Biting his lip, he barely convinced himself not to run away, slowly making his way to the sitting room instead. Turning the doorknob, he chastised himself for being insane, but something made him carry on.

"Hm. I was wondering whether he'd actually have the courage to come in. Seems that I owe you one, Rahkesh."

Draco blushed at the vampire's comment, knowing for certain now that they could feel his presence. Hesitatingly, he made his way to the couch, sitting down in front of it without ever looking straight at Asmodeus or the Vampire.

"You see, he's not as broken as you thought," Asmodeus smirked.

"Oh, but I think that's where you're wrong," the vampire purred, "it's a good slave's duty to feel their master's need and come to provide."

Draco's blush quickly faded into paleness that could have rivaled the vampire's. That was definitely not why he had come inside. And hadn't the vampire already fed on him twice today? Granted, the second time had been very short, but the vampire had never fed on him more often before. Was there a reason he needed to?

The expected cool hand on his neck still came like a shock, but he managed to restrain himself to merely flinching. Thankfully the vampire didn't punish him, letting the obscuring haze of relaxation take all pain away. He felt quite faint when the vampire finally finished, meaning that the vampire had drunk a lot. Which meant, in turn, that the vampire had needed the third feeding.

What in the world had happened this afternoon?

A human hand with a vial of blood replenisher appeared in front of Draco's face without comment, and he accepted it thankfully. His involuntary eye contact with Asmodeus almost made him forget the potion though. Asmodeus looked bad. Really bad. The 'I'm suppressing a headache the size of Hogwarts' bad, combined with the 'I've just been through a magical wringer and still am not sure whether I all my limbs have been reattached in their original positions' bad. Even the bat that was hanging from the chandelier seemed exhausted.

Where had they been to get that roughed up?

Finally, Asmodeus sighed and heaved himself out of the armchair. "I'm going to my room; my mindmagics are still somewhat ripped apart from trying to contact you. If it doesn't become better by tomorrow, I might have to visit Akren for some time. And, please, Daray, don't do anything tonight. I'm too tired to pick up the pieces should everything fall apart. Good night."

Draco automatically replied in kind, while his thoughts were in a whirlwind. Something had happened that had forced Asmodeus, who apparently was also practicing mindmagic, to contact the vampire. Draco almost sighed. Something else he'd have to look up – he had no idea what exactly mindmagic was, its limitations, and how difficult it was. But he would bet everything he had that it was the reason Asmodeus had a headache.

And by getting up, Asmodeus had also revealed that he must have some recently healed physical injuries which were still tender. Draco didn't want to think about how severe they were compared to the fight with the strange creature. Asmodeus hadn't shown any sign of exhaustion then. Just what the hell had happened this afternoon?

"Don't worry, my little Happymeal," the vampire purred right into Draco's ear, looking after Asmodeus' retreating form over Draco's shoulder. "He has survived worse. Much worse."

Draco shivered, actually believing the vampire. And only now did he become aware of the fact that he was alone with the vampire, it was evening, and the vampire was already purring into his ear…

"Well, you are lucky tonight, my tasty, little slave, since Rahkesh has asked me so nicely, I won't have my wicked, wicked way with you." Draco's shivers grew more pronounced at the almost whispered promise. When the vampire drew back without doing anything, Draco thanked every god he could think of. "How about a nicely invigorating chess match?"

Without waiting for an answer, the vampire conjured the same chess set they had been using every evening now, and once again moved his black pawn.

Draco took a deep breath and settled on the other side of the small couch table, already trying to plan out as many strategies as possible to defeat the vampire. Tonight though, the vampire seemed distracted, more often than once not taking advantage of weaknesses in Draco's play. After two and a half hours, Draco was closer to winning than ever before, when the vampire finally managed to corner him in a check mate.

The vampire gave him a long look, and Draco grew more and more nervous. It was finally coming back to Draco that this was a vampire, and not just a chess opponent. He could see how something moved behind the vampire's eyes, looking at him with a predatory gaze that didn't promise anything good at all.

In the end, the vampire merely nodded. "You may go to your room."

Draco didn't hesitate and fled. Swallowing thickly, he tried not to think of how close to being raped he had gotten today.

A/N: Thanks for all the encouragement. To address a few things I've been asked:

- I will keep it completely in line with Miranda Flairgold's storyline. That means that Draco won't find out Daray's a demon, Harry/Rahkesh won't reveal his identity to Draco, and Draco won't find out on his own.

- I've asked her permission to post this story, but that's all the contact I've had with Miranda Flairgold. Asking me to tell her to update won't help you any more than asking her that yourself…

- mountainelements pointed out a mistake in Day 0: In CiaToW, Daray observes Draco through the window after he's sent outside by Mariah. I merely sent Draco out into the hallway, where Daray rightfully shouldn't have been able to observe him. Sorry about that.

Sakiku

P.S.: mountainelements pointed out another mistake in this chapter - fixed as of 11/19/08