Chapter 14: Blood

A/N: So, this chapter is a little creepy… I seem to be specializing in that lately. Sorry about that. Side note—from this chapter on, Chiaro's devotion to Cesare has increased to almost Volpe-level proportions because he's so overwhelmed by Cesare caring for him so much.

I kind of had the impression that Chiaro had never experienced much tenderness in his life, so his expectations and wants are really low. Cesare constantly needing him was always enough to keep him satisfied. Cesare actually loving him, even willing to risk his life and sacrifice things for him—that's more than he would have ever dared to ask. He has no idea what to do with it, but it's making him happier than he's ever been in his life. Ergo, he's pretty much lost all sense of self-preservation, and would gladly cut out his heart if he thought it would help Cesare, or even make him happy. Because he is an idiot.

Sigh, you know, I really thought when I started writing this that Cesare was the one who needed intensive care; now I'm starting to think it's Chiaro. He has like no self-esteem. I'm still not exactly sure how to fix that… it's something I'm working on in the editing. Anyway, sorry about the really long author's note.

"Impressive," Pisano said. "I really am very impressed." He lashed out with his sword, which was met by Cesare's. "You're very nearly a match for me, I think. A pity you don't quite measure up. One is so much stronger for fully accepting the devil's power, you know, rather than fighting it."

Cesare glared at him, eyes still resolutely black, somehow.

"You know, you really ought not to fall in love, and then send your lover off to assassinate people. Very bad form."

"I'm not in love with him. He isn't my lover." Cesare sounded like he'd had to argue this point a lot lately, and Chiaro wondered what had happened. Cesare obviously had this on the brain, from that stupid joke he'd made.

"Whatever. He might as well be for the hold he seems to have on you." He struck out again with his sword, and Cesare defended then countered the swing, but his sword was caught on Pisano's.

"Kill me, then, if you think you can," Cesare said, smiling a little in challenge. "Stop toying with me."

"My, aren't we perceptive?" Pisano said, his voice beautiful and smooth. Demonically so. "You're right. I don't want to kill you. I'd rather have you as an ally."

"I'd rather die," Cesare said, striking out, but not managing.

"But don't you see?" Pisano asked, his voice becoming more beautiful as he spoke. "I'm like you, Lord Cesare. Together, we can truly conquer the world. Not just Italy, but the whole world. Think about it. King Cesare, not only Lord. Stop resisting and join me. Everything will be so much easier when you just give in."

"You're not even slightly human, are you?" Cesare asked, but his eyes were gleaming gold. "You are the devil."

"Oh, yes. I gave him complete control. You can't kill me, even if you do win this battle. I am immortal. You can be too, if you will join me. King Cesare Borgia, immortal world conqueror. It has a certain ring to it, don't you think?"

"What are your conditions?"

"Cesa… re!" Chiaro choked, reproachfully. Cesare gave no sign that he'd even heard.

"All I'm asking is that you destroy your conscience," Pisano said, making it sound like a small matter.

"Chiaro is my conscience."

Now that was a scary thought. Chiaro was hardly perfect himself.

"Exactly," Pisano replied.

"I won't kill Chiaro!"

"Oh, no? Don't you realize, he's the one who makes you weak? If it weren't for him, you would have been all powerful by now. Stop fighting it, man. Be done with him. He's hardly done your plans any good, has he?"

"He's my friend!"

"World conquerors do not have friends. They have servants. Don't you understand? As long as you keep him around, you'll never succeed in your goals. Think about it, Cesare Borgia."

And Cesare did, clearly. He blinked and looked at Chiaro, suddenly thoughtful. Chiaro gnawed his lip. In spite of his demands that Cesare not try to rescue him, he really didn't want to die. He'd tried to resign himself to it, but it hadn't worked very well, and since Cesare had come, his desire to live and especially to stay with Cesare had increased tremendously. More than that, he didn't want to be killed by his best friend, and he didn't want Cesare to go over to the devil. Please don't. Cesare, please….

After at least a full minute and a half, Cesare suddenly turned away from him, smiling a little. "You're right," he said to Pisano. Chiaro's heart almost stopped. But Cesare continued, his voice cool, methodical, and completely ruthless. The voice of someone who truly would kill his best friend for the sake of ultimate power. "World conquerors ought not to get attached to people like Chiaro. Not if they want to be successful." He lowered his sword and moved closer to Pisano, inclining his head slightly in submission. Chiaro shook his head a little. No. He blinked hard, wanting it not to be true. No… you said…. He had a sudden vision of Cesare nestling close to him and whispering that he wanted to belong to Chiaro too, that he loved him. And only a few minutes ago, he had been desperate to save Chiaro. How could the demons twist him this far?

"Truly," Cesare continued, "I've known all along that being so close to Chiaro has made me increasingly less ruthless, and I must be ruthless to succeed in my goals, but I convinced myself that I was imagining it, because I wished to keep him at my side."

"An understandable desire, in its place," Pisano said, his voice smooth and understanding.

"Indeed," Cesare said, moving alarmingly close to Pisano. "But due to your council and the council of my other manservant, I now understand the truth. I know now that if I am serious about my desire to conquer the world, I must sever all ties with Chiaro and accept my destiny as the child chosen by the darkness."

"A wise decision," Pisano replied.

Chiaro wondered if his heartbeat was audible to the two men standing in front of him. Would Cesare really kill him? No, he mentally pleaded. No. I want to live. I want to stay with you. "Cesare…" he whispered, trying in vain to get to his feet so he could… do what? Hold Cesare to send the demons away when Cesare intended to kill him and let the demons take over? Plead for his life? Offer his life to Cesare's sword, as Cesare wanted? He blinked back sudden tears. Maybe he should just stay where he was.

"I didn't say anything about a decision," Cesare said, putting the point of his sword to Pisano's throat in one swift motion. Pisano raised his eyebrows. "I think you underestimate just how deep this attachment goes. I've become so attached that I would actually rather keep him with me than conquer the world." Within a second, his sword had slit Pisano's throat and sent him to the ground. His eyes, now black again, burned with fury. "And I would rather die than join you."

"Cesare…." Chiaro smiled. He felt like laughing.

Cesare turned to smile at him, his eyes warm and gentle. "Did you really think I'd choose him over you?" he asked, his voice gently scolding. He began to come closer, but then Pisano started to get up.

"Behind you!" Chiaro shouted, and Cesare whirled around to catch Pisano's sword, staring.

"I told you," Pisano said, his neck unblemished. "You can't kill me."

A second later, they were at each other. The battle seemed to go on forever. Pisano seemed to go into full demon form, eyes glowing, flashing first here, then there, then disappearing entirely only to reappear directly behind Cesare. Cesare held his own, barely, but he couldn't mark Pisano. Somehow—somehow—Cesare was not using his demonic powers, or else the demons had abandoned him. He was a man fighting the devil, and Chiaro knew who would win. He tried to get up, to join the battle, but it was too fast for him. He didn't have the strength. Please, he prayed, wondering if God would intercede on behalf of his beloved master. Please.

Pisano's sword ran through Cesare's shoulder in a movement that was so fast, it was almost invisible. Cesare cried out in pain, staggering backwards. For a moment, his face blanched, true terror in his eyes.

"What?" Pisano asked. "Don't want to die? They won't protect you anymore, not now. Not unless you join me."

Cesare breathed hard, then stole a glance back at Chiaro. "No," he said. "I can't die."

"Oh, can't you?" He swung his sword again, and Cesare caught it.

"No," Cesare said. "I can't." He swung his sword, but Pisano disappeared, only to come from above him, then behind him again.

God, please! Chiaro prayed with all his strength. At least make it a fair fight.

All of a sudden, Pisano stopped, as if startled, though he managed to catch Cesare's sword a moment later. "What?" he said, and looked around as he held back Cesare's sword. There seemed to be a shield of light around him, holding back much of the darkness he'd been using to fight Cesare. Cesare obviously noticed it too, and quickly pressed his advantage. Pisano seemed like he'd been rooted to his body now, but he was still more than a match for Cesare, and Cesare was wounded and becoming exhausted.

Suddenly the door opened from above, and seconds later someone had barreled down, cutting off Pisano's arm before he could strike a killing blow. Volpe! Chiaro felt a sudden surge of gratitude for his rival.

"Fool!" Pisano said, turning on Volpe. "That will do nothing!" His arm grew back, making Volpe start backwards, and he picked up his sword. Volpe backed away, but then rushed forward, striking at Pisano like a madman, to be joined a second later by Cesare. Chiaro managed to get to his feet. Perhaps he couldn't fight, but…. Cesare managed now to cut off Pisano's other arm at the same time Volpe ran him through the throat. Pisano staggered backwards, but grinned all the while. Chiaro rushed forward and put his arms around Pisano just as his arm started growing back. Pisano gasped out in anguish, the growth arrested. He whirled around with his sword, aiming for Chiaro's neck, but gashing him across the chest instead before dropping his sword.

"Chiaro!" Cesare cried, rushing toward him.

"Wait… don't… touch him," Chiaro gasped. "He… won't die… unless… unless I… do this." If Cesare's blood was poisonous, it was nothing in comparison to the blood beginning to flow from Pisano's wounds. It burned, especially where it got into Chiaro's chest wound. Chiaro tried to get out of the path of the flow, fighting to keep hold of the struggling Pisano. Chiaro's light was poisonous to him. It was killing him. Come to think of it, he never did touch me.

Pisano began to gasp for breath, unable to scream. His body began to shrivel in Chiaro's grasp, and within two minutes, all that remained of him was a skeleton. Chiaro staggered to his feet, soaked in blood, and then everything went black and he felt himself collapse into strong arms that were somehow there to catch him.

…

Volpe watched his master catch Chiaro and cradle him as he knelt. "Chiaro?" Cesare's voice shook. The scene was too pitiful for Volpe to feel jealous. "Chiaro…." Cesare's face looked suddenly fragile, desperate, and very, very young. He pressed his cloak against the gash that crossed Chiaro's chest, trying to stop the bleeding.

"Let me see." Volpe moved aside Cesare's hand and examined the wound. "He won't die from that."

Cesare met his eyes. "Tagio." He looked again like the child he was when Volpe had first decided to serve him, and Volpe was a little disturbed that only hours earlier he'd tried to seduce this master whose heart was so very young.

"Yes. I'm sorry I was late. It took me about half an hour to come to my senses."

Cesare shook his head. "You came. I'm grateful. Please, help me. Get water, quickly, so we can wash this off him before he dies. Water and… and bandages."

"But your shoulder…."

"Please, Tagio." His eyes pleaded. "I'm counting on you."

Volpe made a slight bow and made his way quickly up the stairs. He managed to find water and a towel and went back as quickly as he could without spilling it. Cesare was still cradling Chiaro when he got back. "Thank you," Cesare said. His hands were shaking as he, with Volpe's help, poured the first of the two buckets of water over Chiaro, washing away a large amount of blood, both Pisano's and Chiaro's. Chiaro's skin was red where Pisano's blood had been and looked like it was burned. Chiaro gasped and began to shake. Cesare used the other bucket with the towel to wipe the rest of the blood off, and then bandaged Chiaro's wound tightly. He sucked the blood off his hands when he was finished, then stopped, looking embarrassed.

Chiaro seemed to wake a little, and he blinked his eyes at Volpe. "It's… you," he said. "Thanks." He looked at Cesare. "Hey… you're… bleeding. Shouldn't… you be… worrying… 'bout that… 'stead of… giving… me… a bath?"

Cesare started to laugh, but there were tears in his eyes. "Are you seriously trying to argue with me?"

"No," Chiaro said, smiling and closing his eyes. He sat up a little. "Vol… pe… have you… got… a bandage?" Volpe nodded and wrapped a strip of cloth around Cesare's shoulder, ignoring Cesare's protests that his blood was poisonous. Chiaro obviously wasn't in a state to bandage Cesare himself. He washed his hands in the bucket of water.

"Can we… go home?" Chiaro asked, leaning back against Cesare.

"Yes. Can you walk?" Cesare asked.

"Um…." Chiaro tried to will his muscles into kneeling. "I… don't… think so."

"Tagio, will you carry him? I can't."

"Of course."

Chiaro smirked a little as Volpe lifted him into his arms. "This is… unex…pected."

"If you're that hurt, stop talking," Volpe said shortly. "Hold onto me. Your shoulders are dislocated, but I can't fix them until we're safe. I have no doubt we're not entirely out of danger."

Chiaro didn't respond, thankfully. He could be so irritating sometimes. Why use so much of his energy arguing, making jokes, and stating the obvious?

"Do you think he'll be all right?" Cesare asked, coming beside them as they walked.

"If he has so much energy to make smart remarks, I'm sure he'll be fine."

Chiaro smiled a little. "No… defi… nitely not. In fact… I think… I'm… approa…ching… Death's… door. See?" he said as they crossed the doorway of the palace.

"That is not something to joke about," Cesare said, glaring, but a bit of color had returned to his face.

Chiaro just gave a laugh. "…sare… lighten… up…."

Cesare rolled his eyes. Was this why Chiaro kept making jokes? To distract Cesare so he wouldn't worry? Volpe sighed a little. So what if it was a kind gesture? It was still irritating. Within another ten minutes, they had obtained new horses from the stables, and Volpe passed Chiaro up to Cesare to sit behind him.

…

Cesare monitored Chiaro carefully as they rode, gentler than he had before but still quickly. Chiaro was wrapped in Cesare's cloak, and he kept drifting in and out of consciousness, which made Cesare nervous. But his light was as strong as ever.

"Hey," Chiaro whispered at one point.

"Yes?"

"Were you… really… thinking… of killing… me?"

"No."

Chiaro smiled. "You sure… took your… time saying so," he said, falling asleep again.

Cesare hadn't been thinking of killing Chiaro. But he had realized at that time that the two greatest desires of his heart were incompatible. That devil had been right. Cesare had been avoiding the thought for a while now, but he couldn't anymore. He could not be both Chiaro's best friend and a world conqueror, and he knew which one he wanted more. But he could hardly just abandon the effort, could he? He had set too many things in motion that needed someone to carry them through.

Cesare looked thoughtfully at Volpe riding beside him. Practical, politic Volpe, who was more ruthless these days than he was, and probably had enough charisma to draw the masses. Perhaps he couldn't abandon the effort… but maybe he could pass it to someone else. Cesare was surprised by the sense of peace this idea brought him, even if it was accompanied by disappointment. The idea of being Prince Cesare Borgia did appeal to him, he couldn't deny it. And he did want to see a united Italy. And yet….

But what would he do instead? Was he really fit for anything else? He certainly didn't make a very good cardinal. He supposed he had enough money that he could probably simply retire, but that sounded so boring. Cesare couldn't imagine a life in which he wasn't trying to conquer something, or engaging in some sort of exciting, usually violent battle. Sad, really. Was there some way to keep Chiaro at his side, keep the demons from taking over his body and soul, and still be a conqueror?

"Cesare?"

Cesare almost laughed at how sleepy Chiaro sounded. He slowed the horse and looked round. "Yes?"

Chiaro smiled, eyes still closed. "Just… making… sure." In a moment, he was asleep again, still smiling. So trusting. Cesare shook his head a little, wishing Chiaro wasn't such an idiot but eternally grateful that he was. But it was all right. He would figure out some way to make this work. He had some time to think about what he was going to do, right? There were more pressing matters at hand. He and both of his men were seriously injured, Chiaro more than either he or Volpe, and his hands needed to be dealt with in some way, though he wasn't sure if Chiaro could do anything for them. He'd been soaking in Chiaro's light now for more than half an hour, and it hadn't done them any good. Really… would the demons take him over regardless of whether he conquered Italy? Was he hopeless?

"How are you, Cesare?" Volpe asked quietly.

"I'm fine," Cesare replied. "Chiaro feels too warm. I think he has a fever."

"That doesn't surprise me. Perhaps we should stop somewhere and stay for a while before going back to Rome. If people are after you, they'll be waiting there for you."

"True. Do you know of any villages that might be conducive?"

"There's a small one about half a mile from here, where I changed my horse."

"Very well, lead the way." Cesare was feeling much more comfortable with Volpe now that Chiaro was back and Volpe wasn't trying to seduce him. Had it not been for Volpe, both he and Chiaro would probably be dead right now. "You will be rewarded for your loyalty, Tagio."

"I do not require a reward, but I am grateful for your affirmation."

"You're a lot like me, you know," Cesare told him.

"Thank you, my lord."

"In fact, you might make a better world conqueror than I would."

"I have no intention of vying with you for power."

"That wasn't what I meant," Cesare replied. They finally arrived at the village and found a small inn where they ordered two rooms. Volpe, who was the least wounded, tended to Cesare's wounds first, allowed Cesare to bandage him, then went to go find a doctor, leaving Chiaro to Cesare. Cesare methodically applied suave to his burns and bandages to his wounds, hoping Chiaro wouldn't have too many scars. His hands made it a little difficult, but he was determined.

At some point, Chiaro woke up. "Hi," he said.

"Hello."

"We need… to fix… your hands."

"I'd hardly say that's priority at the moment."

"Yes… I had… an idea."

Cesare gently lifted Chiaro and pulled him close so he could work on his back. He knew he could just have Chiaro turn over, but this was nicer. "Did you?" Might as well humor him now, that they were safe.

"Yes. You saw… I'm poison… to the… demons. So… I killed… but you're… partly human… so maybe… you'd be fine."

"But what are you planning on doing? I've been touching you this whole time, almost."

"I thought… maybe… you should… drink… my blood."

Cesare stiffened, his hand pausing in applying the suave. "What?" He had to have heard wrong.

"Since… that way you… might be… able to… purge them."

"I'm not drinking your blood!" Cesare said, appalled.

"You were… licking it…."

"That doesn't mean I want to drink it." Regardless of how it tasted, if Chiaro lost much more blood, he would die.

"I'm just… worried," Chiaro said, "that it… might kill you. But I don't… think it will… and… it might make you… healthier… for a long time." He started coughing.

"Would you stop talking? You'll make yourself worse." Cesare shook his head. "No. You've already lost enough blood because of being tortured and fighting for me when you were wounded. Besides, didn't you say I shouldn't align myself with the devil by giving into my taste for blood?"

"I think… if it's me… it'll be different. And it's better to… do it soon. Here… this wound… I think… it's still bleeding." He pulled the bandage from the gash across his chest, which immediately began to bleed again.

"Chiaro…!"

"Unless… you're worried… it'll kill you."

"I'm worried it will kill you!"

"I'll be… fine. Drink."

"No."

"Please… Cesare!" Chiaro's eyes pleaded. "It's all… I can think of." He looked desperate, like there was much more at stake here than Cesare's hands. "I want… to help you."

Cesare put a hand over his eyes. He was beginning to have serious doubts about Chiaro's mental health. Then he looked at the hand. He knew without a shadow of a doubt that this transformation would only continue if left unchecked, and along with his hands it would consume his heart. Already, he was terrified of how thoroughly the demons had commanded his thoughts and actions when he had come to rescue Chiaro. He'd wanted to consume Chiaro, to absorb him, to ravish him. He'd had to fight down and suppress a dozen impulses before he'd trusted himself to approach Chiaro… and then Chiaro had looked so confused when he promised not to hurt him. Was he actually this naïve? If Cesare got a taste for Chiaro's blood, wouldn't that make the temptation even worse the next time the demons attacked him? Or would the blood be enough to stop the attack? "You're practically dancing in the fire," Cesare said.

"I'll take… my chances."

"Idiot." Slowly, Cesare bent to Chiaro's chest wound, and began to suck blood from it. Chiaro gave a slight grunt, but otherwise made no move to stop him. His blood tasted like liquid light and made Cesare half mad with the desire for more, but he managed to stop himself after a few swallows. He pulled away, licking his lips and wiping the excess blood off his cheeks.

"Tastes… good?" Chiaro asked, looking curious and not alarmed in the least.

Cesare sighed. Why don't you ever react the way you're supposed to? "Like fine wine," he replied. "What are you doing, trying to get me more addicted to you than I already am?" He quickly cleaned the wound and wrapped a bandage around it again so it wouldn't tempt him. Then suddenly his body convulsed, and his stomach was in agony. He narrowly managed to keep himself from vomiting.

"Cesare?"

"They… don't… like it," Cesare gasped, beginning to sweat. No, he would not vomit. He would not. This was the only thing that might cure him. He felt another wave of pain and dizziness.

"Come here," Chiaro said, beginning to draw him close. Cesare let himself be drawn until he was in Chiaro's arms. "Stay… it's okay."

Cesare gasped, clinging to Chiaro. "Don't… let Volpe see… he'll panic." Then his vision faded and turned dark. All he was aware of was the light burning inside him and the light surrounding him to comfort him in the agony this caused. I don't want to be Pisano. Let it heal me. Please.

A/N 2: I'm sorry! I didn't mean for it to be another cliffy, honestly I didn't. Well, maybe kind of sort of, but there wasn't really another good breaking point that was interesting. I'll try not to make another cliffy. Only trouble is, the story is quite a lot of cliffies from here on out.

By the way, Chiaro and Cesare are both wrong about Chiaro's blood being the only thing that can cure him. But there will be more on that later. ;-)