Tainted But Beautiful
Part 2: The Secrets
17. Chase
Pairings: AkuZeku, Zemyx, AkuRoku, AxDem, minor onesided VexZex, XemSaix
Rated: M
Warnings: Vampires, vampires, vampires...uh, yaoi, AU-ish-ness, abuse, noncon, rape, graphic scenes, character death, overall weirdness.
Summary: Axel is a powerful vampire slayer who's captured Zexion, a vampire, as his pet. What Axel doesn't bargain on is Demyx, his former student, developing a strong attraction to Zexion...
Notes: I am so incredibly sorry for the long delay; it's just that I caught up in a ton of things, one after another, wham wham wham. I know I promised January 24th, but what I didn't realize at the time was that only a week after the SAT was the Academic Decathlon regionals tournament, so I spent that entire week cramming, and then after regionals, our team made the state tournament so we've been studying like all hell (State is March 6th to 7th, so...not very far off). Not to mention schoolwork hit me like a tornado, and, well...
I apologize deeply for the lack of updates. Seriously, it's been so long that not only have I taken the SAT, but I've gotten my scores back! Overall, I can say I'm very pleased in how I did, especially considering that I (this is what I feel at least...) barely studied.
Anyway, here's a Valentine's Day update for you, though the chapter isn't very romantic. Still, I think you'll all be pleased by the cliffhanger at the end...
Your servant has escaped.
It took a moment for the full meaning of Saix's words to hit, given that Zexion's head was still spinning, disoriented, from having been thrown across the room. When it did, though, Zexion bolted straight upright, ignoring the nauseous lurch the motion incited in his head, shouting at Saix:
"What--wait--how? How could that have--"
"Why don't you tell me?" said Saix, his tone as dispassionate as ever, brushing imaginary lint from his coat sleeve. "After all, it is your servant, and as his master, you are responsible for him."
Zexion hissed at the tone the werewolf was taking with him--the same patronizing tone all senior vampires used when speaking to incubi and succubi--but could do nothing about it. Not unless he wanted to get hit again...and as his head was still ringing from the first blow, he decided not to press the issue further. Instead, he straightened as best he could, staggering to his feet and ignoring Demyx's abortive attempts to help him. Demyx knew to keep clear of him; Zexion was sure he wouldn't have control enough to prevent from biting into the slayer if Demyx came any closer.
"I...I didn't realize..." said Zexion quietly, but realized how weak and pathetic those words were making him sound, and covering his embarrassment with a cough, amended, "How could he have escaped in the first place...? I know that boy. I made him. I know that he is too weak to ever escape from here."
"Huh? Who? What?" Demyx's voice kept a deafening stream of loud and stupid queries assaulting Zexion's ears. "What boy? What servant? Made--who? What the hell are you two yakking about!"
Zexion found it wasn't hard to tune out Demyx. He continued addressing Saix, keeping his voice level, trying not to curl his nose in disgust or--or worse--out of his instinctual hatred for the beast standing before him. "I had nothing to do with my servant's escape, if he even did escape in the first place, which I highly doubt. In fact, I'd be more than happy to clear things up with you and--and the Superior."
He couldn't help the way his voice trembled when he said the Superior's name. Despite himself...the memory of the Superior's cruelty, of the pain, was too recent to shake off.
"Don't be stubborn, incubus." Saix's voice trailed off into a low, animalistic snarl--but then again, wasn't that appropriate, given what Saix was...? "The sooner you accept reality, the easier things will be for you. Come, incubus. You are to join the search for your missing servant."
Zexion could see no way out of this situation. But he still--still--was having trouble believing it. Roxas was weak. That was the heart of the matter. As a human, he'd been weak; as a vampire, doubly so. Half-made vampires, while advantageous because they retained their human cunning, were rarely used because they were far weaker than ordinary vampires and highly volatile, their systems an unholy and unstable blend of living and undead. Zexion was already surprised at Roxas's tenacity, though doubted the boy would be able to hold on till the end of the month. And Zexion really didn't need Roxas anymore; the boy had become superfluous after killing Axel.
Killing Axel...Roxas as his servant... How could he ever explain all of this to Demyx? He doubted Demyx would understand...in fact, Demyx would probably hate him if (when) he found out. Now, though...there didn't seem to be a way out of telling Demyx what he'd done. Zexion cast a nervous glance at the blank-eyed slayer, and immediately regretted it; Demyx's scent hit him in one powerful wave, almost sending Zexion to his knees with dizzying pangs of hunger.
"Come, incubus," Saix was saying, turning with a graceful, lupine motion and walking away--not even bothering to check if Zexion was following. He was so used to command that he expected anyone to follow if he ordered it, no question. Well, maybe, thought Zexion with disaste, Saix's pack would gladly follow him everywhere...but Zexion was no dog. He didn't take orders from Saix, but the Superior...
But Saix's will was the Superior's too. So, with a reluctant sigh, Zexion moved after Saix, his hands in his pockets and head lowered, still confused, still wondering--
"Hey! Wait a sec! Zexy!" Demyx's voice, loud and complaining now, snapped Zexion out of his reverie. Zexion cast a bored backwards glance at the human, who hadn't moved from his position against the back wall.
"Stay where you are, Demyx. I'll come back for you," said Zexion shortly, and turned away from Demyx again, continuing to tromp after Saix, even though the werewolf was no longer in sight. Still, Zexion could detect Saix's pungent scent well enough to follow Saix's path without having to see him.
A sudden drift of sea-salt in Zexion's direction stopped the incubus clean in his tracks. He whirled around though he knew it was pointless--he could already tell that Demyx had followed, his expression hard, eyes burning with resolve.
"Zexion, Ienzo, whatever--" Shit, he's doing that again "--I have no idea what the hell's going on. That's no surprise. But this time--I am fucking going to find out and you are NOT going to stop me. Is that clear?"
Is that clear? Just like an order.... Zexion fought against the urge to flinch, and nodded mutely, feeling mortified.
"Good. Then let's go." And without waiting for a response from Zexion, Demyx had stomped ahead, looking so determined it was almost ridiculous--just like a soldier marching off to war. Zexion choked back to urge to laugh--as well as the urge to inhale Demyx's scent--and followed a safe distance afterwards, wondering just how he was going to explain this to the Superior...
...and how he was going to explain Axel and Roxas to Demyx...
Demyx was completely lost, but when was that a surprise? He could only stand back, trying to keep a close distance from all the vampires, as they conversed in voices too low for him to hear and congregated around...
Around a giant hole in the wall. Demyx didn't see what was so interesting about the hole, but the other vampires seemed to think it was the most shocking thing they'd ever beheld. Zexion, in particular, seemed stunned into inaction as he beheld the hole, standing still as a statue, his eyes wide, skin even paler than it usually was. When he spoke, it seemed his lips were moving to form the words, "It can't be," over and over again.
Demyx might not have really comprehended what was going on, but he felt he understood some bits of it, judging by what the other vampires were saying. Some "servant" of Zexion's had managed to escape...but this just confounded Demyx more. What? Wait? What servant of Zexion's? Since when did Zexion have a servant? Come to think of it...
Why the hell was Zexion even here? Demyx had previously been too caught up in his joy at having met Zexion again to give much thought to the matter...but now he found himself forced to confront it. He highly doubted, after all, that Axel would just give Zexion permission to skip off and search for Demyx like that. It just wasn't something Axel would do...
Though Demyx supposed he had greater concerns at the moment. Such as, well...the fact that he was surrounded by vampires. Not quite surrounded, actually, since all the vampires were concregated near the hole in the wall. Still...there were so many of them. The most pureblood vampires Demyx had ever witnessed in a group before...and he was surprised by how...how similar they all looked. All so pale, their fingers long and clawed, holding themselves so haughtily. If it wasn't for Zexion's slim build and his distinctive hair, Demyx would have lost him among the crowd.
Still...a few others looked different. Their skin was rosier, like Demyx's, and seemed to warm and alive. They were all tall and heavy, with sharp golden eyes and feral looks on their faces--and were holding themselves apart from the vampires. Demyx didn't know what they could be...but he couldn't shake the feeling that they were all so very similar to Saix...
Saix was currently standing closest to the hole, bending over somewhat to examine it--and sniffing intently. He almost looked like a dog, due to the alert light to his eyes and the way he kept sniffing, over and over again, his nostrils flaring...
"Only around fifteen minutes ago," he said, straightening up, his voice as flat as always. "We may still be able to catch him."
Who? Zexion's servant? But again, why would Zexion have a servant in the first place--
For some reason, Demyx began to feel a slight prickling sensation on the back of his neck, and his heart went cold--but he wasn't sure why. Wasn't sure, at least until a horribly familiar, deep, and sadistic voice floated over to his ears:
"Well, well, what do we have here?"
Xaldin.
The purple-eyed vampire strode forward, his long dreadlocks swinging after him, his every step as light and graceful was the wind. He was smirking, the horrible, sadistic smile that still haunted Demyx's nightmares...the few times he'd been able to get something approximating sleep since his kidnapping, anyway. But it was enough, enough to cause Demyx's knees to go weak and his muscles to feel like jelly...he struggled violently against the urge to fall face-forward to the floor.
Fainting? C'mon, you're no damsel in distress! Do that and you know Zexy will never let you live it down!
So he stayed upright, though he couldn't help but shiver when Xaldin swept past him, leaving a slight breeze in his wake, to approach Saix.
"This is where the incubus's servant escaped from," replied Saix without preamble. "Surely even you must know about that...?"
"Indeed, the Superior detained me to help with the investigation," said Xaldin, sounding as if he couldn't be more bored by the prospect.
"It's the least you could do for your Superior and your coven," retorted Saix, a faint note of irritation sliding into his voice, as if he'd had this conversation too many times already. And judging by Saix and Xaldin's previous conversation...he had.
"Spare me the lecture," said Xaldin, rolling his eyes at the ceiling. The other vampires had parted around Xaldin, all looking somewhat nervous--though the golden-eyed...not-vampires...were merely giving Xaldin contempuous looks, much like Saix was.
"Xaldin, what are we to do?" This was one of the vampires, as pale and haughty as his companions, though he looked a bit nerdy too due to his bowl cut and Coke-bottle glasses. "About this missing half-made vampire..."
Half-made? What's that supposed to mean? thought Demyx, feeling both confused and disgruntled. Confused, because he didn't know what the vampire was talking about; disgruntled, because he knew no one was going to explain to him.
"Ask him," retorted Xaldin, his voice sharp, pointing an almost-accusing finger at Saix. "He is the one in charge, after all."
"Erm, ahh," stammered the nerdy vampire, looking nervous. He didn't look at Saix, instead turning his Coke-bottle gaze to the floor.
"You know what I would suggest," said Saix coldly. "You and I will divide into two groups, and search the city for the missing servant. We will choose at least four underlings each to accompany us."
"Ah? Is this a race?" said Xaldin, still sounding bored--in fact, he'd started picking at his sleeve cuffs, looking disinterested in all the proceedings. "Whoever finds the escaped servant first gets a reward, or something along those lines...?"
"The reward will be the Superior's favor," retorted Saix. "Something that you seem to be in desperate need of..."
"Who says I'm desperate?" Xaldin even emitted a dark little chuckle, as if to show how little he cared for the supposed "reward". "By the way, whose servant exactly is it...?"
Saix turned, and wordlessly pointed at Zexion. Still, the gesture was enough--enough to cause Zexion's slender shoulders to stiffen and for him to take a startled step back. Demyx almost wanted to step forward and drape a protective arm around Zexion's shoulders--but had enough self-control to hold back, and just stand, and wait...wait for Xaldin to turn slowly in Zexion's direction, the sadistic glimmer even more pronounced in his purple eyes.
"What is this...? An incubus? Your name?" said Xaldin, drawing his words out with exaggerated slowness as he approached Zexion, closing the distance between them with each heavy, deliberate step.
"Ienzo, sir." Zexion's answer was quiet and strained, and he did not look up to meet Xaldin's gaze, even as Xaldin was looming directly above him. Demyx was suddenly struck by how...how small Zexion appeared, in comparison to the large and powerfully-built Xaldin...he almost wanted to warn Zexion, but of what?
"Ienzo, hmm? You seem to be quite a little boy. Barely over a century, am I right...?" Xaldin bent down, somewhat, so that his gaze was almost level with Zexion's; Zexion, however, just responded by lowering his head further, his slate-colored hair hiding his eyes from scrutiny.
"A little less, sir." Again, Zexion's voice was soft and deferent, so low that Demyx could barely hear it. Demyx became aware that he wasn't the only one who was watching Zexion and Xaldin's conversation expectantly; the other vampires (and Saix's not-vampires) had turned their haughty stares to the two conversing vampires, all with anticipatory looks on their faces.
"Ahh, I see." Xaldin unleashed a long, satisfied exhalation that sounded like the wind whistling through hollow tree trunks. "Well, well, Ienzo...what a pretty little thing you are..." As he spoke, he extended a hand and tilted Zexion's face up, stroking the wide-eyed incubus's pale cheek, tracing the curve of his jaw...
Demyx reacted before he could think about what he was doing. As if in a daze, he saw himself leap forward, snatch Xaldin by the arm, and (using more strength than he'd like to admit) wrench the vampire's hand away from Zexion.
"Cut it out! Don't touch him!" he shouted, his words ringing too-loud in his ears, cracking through the hush that had fallen on all the assembled vampires. In that moment, he realized just where he was, just what he was doing--standing right in the middle of a crowd of vampires--
"Ah? It's you." Xaldin raised his eyebrows slightly, looking bored and contempuous--but there was a tiny gleam in his eyes that Demyx didn't quite like. Behind Xaldin, Saix made a not-very-quiet scoffing noise, but Demyx paid no attention to Saix. His entire being was absorbed in glaring up at Xaldin's mocking purple eyes, his fists clenched into hands, and telling himself that he most definitely was not trembling like a terrified little girl...
"Demyx...ah...what are you..." Zexion blinked a couple of times, looking as confused as Demyx was feeling.
"What is this, Xaldin?" The nerdy bowl-cut vampire was speaking. "A snack?"
He turned eyes that were all too eager on Demyx...and Demyx realized, with a gulp, that every other vampire present was eyeing him the same way--as if he was the only plate of nachos (complete with steaming gloopy cheese and sliced jalapenos) in the middle of a room of starving linebackers. Which Demyx supposed he basically was, in this situation.
"Unfortunately, no," said Xaldin, the corner of his mouth turning up in a slight smirk. "This is my current...toy. I don't know his name, but that doesn't matter, now, does it? Now, toy, step aside. Ienzo and I were...ahh...sharing a moment..."
He reached past Demyx, the mere brush of his arm knocking the startled slayer back a few steps, to stroke Zexion's cheek again--but then Saix's voice, as cold and dispassionate at ever but now tinged with a distinct layer of disapproval, cut through the silence. "Enough. No more playing. Our first order of business is to locate and secure the incubus's missing servant. Ienzo?"
"Yes?" Zexion stepped lightly away from Xaldin, walking through the other vampires to approach Saix. Demyx remained rooted where he was for an instant--before he realized with a flash of panic that he was, well...right in front of Xaldin. That revelation was enough to get him to drift after Zexion (so much like he'd used to drift after Axel...), ignoring the linebacker-wants-nachos looks the other vampires were giving him...
A faint look of disapproval crossed Saix's face, as if he was irritated that Zexion had not addressed him as "sir", like he had Xaldin. But Saix let no irritation show in his voice, which was as clipped and business-like as ever. "You, Ienzo, will join me in the search for your servant. You are the one who made him, so you are the one who will secure him once we find him. Do you understand?"
Zexion didn't reply verbally to this, but just nodded, glancing down at the hole in the wall and then casting a sidelong look at Saix that didn't meet Saix's eyes. "He has a...twenty-minute head start. The boy is not very fast; average by human standards. But I don't know..."
"He has awakened," replied Saix coldly. Demyx hung back watching, hands in his pockets, pretending like he understood even though he still had no idea what everyone was yak-yakking about. The boy...escaped servant...awakened...the hell?
"What...?" Zexion whirled around to face Saix, looking alarmed. "B-but--ahh...I see. That explains...quite a bit, actually..."
He turned away from Saix again, lowering his head and wrapping one arm around his chest while he raised the other hand to his chin--a pose that Demyx had already become quite familiar with. Zexion was thinking, hard, but about what Demyx didn't know. Demyx didn't know anything anymore. He wanted answers, but he wasn't going to get any, not here while everyone behind him was staring at him as if he was more delicious than filet mignon on a Friday night. He probably was, to them...
"Er...ahh...incubus." A voice suddenly cut through the pensive (and salivating, on the part of the vampires behind Demyx) silence, and all heads whipped around to face the speaker--the nerdy vampire, who had even raised his hand like he was a student in a classroom. "Out of curiosity, err...how can you detect how far a head start the, the servant has?"
Zexion blinked, looking surprised, but then said, his voice clipped and cold, "He is my servant. I should be able to sense him, no matter what...and I have always had a particularly sharp sense of smell." He cast a meaningful look at Saix, who did not return it.
Saix had started giving imperious orders to all the assembled vampires and...not-vampires. "Ienzo, you're with me. You--whatever your name is--" He pointed at the nerdy vampire, who whined something that sounded a bit like "Bartholomew" "--go with Dilan. You and you, with me. You and you, with him. With me, with him..."
It was a bit, Demyx thought, like a gym teacher dividing his class into teams for a game of dodgeball or soccer or what-have-you. Well, Demyx had never experienced such an event himself, having never gone to school...but he'd read enough books and watched enough movies to know what it was like. Even if this was a group of vampires and other supernatural beings, out hunting not for a ball but for some "escaped servant" of Zexion's (Who? WHAT???)...but still, the parallels were uncanny. And just like in the movies...Demyx was the kid who no one wanted on their team.
"Er..." he coughed, after Saix had finished dividing all assembled into two "teams"--one led by him and the other by Xaldin. Xaldin looked distinctly like he'd gotten the worse end of the deal--he was stuck with "Bartholomew" and several other weaker-looking vampires, while Saix had all the golden-eyed not-vampires, and...well, Zexion. Demyx knew instantly which team he wanted to be on.
"What is it?" Saix was poised right over the hole, looking as if he meant to jump straight out of it, five-foot drop and all. "You're still here?"
"I...er...I wanna go with you," said Demyx, suddenly aware of how stupid he sounded, just like a whining brat of a kid. "I'm going to find out what's going on. Zexion. I want to find out."
He was addressing Zexion now, who regarded Demyx expressionlessly, his face drawn. Zexion seemed troubled, though it was hard to tell, what with the way his hair was hiding his eyes from scrutiny. Saix and the others with him, by contrast, were giving Demyx glances that were definitely contempuous.
"Demyx..." Zexion spoke after a silence that felt like eternity to Demyx, but was probably less than a minute. "You're in over your head. Go. Leave. Go back to the room; I'll be with you shortly. Don't get too involved. If you do..."
He trailed off, but didn't have to say anything more; Demyx understood perfectly well what Zexion meant. And it rankled. Again, yet again, he was being condescended, treated like a child who kept pestering his parents with questions, questions the parents didn't want to answer because it was grown-up business. But he wasn't a child and he'd already explained to Zexion his resolve. Damn it, he was going to get to the bottom of this, and to hell with anyone who tried to stop him.
"I don't care. I'm getting involved and you can't stop me," snapped Demyx, trying his best not to sound like a petulant child...trying his best to ignore the stares boring into his back, especially a sadistic purple-eyed stare... "I'm coming with you. And you might wanna explain to me just what the hell is going on. Like, this 'servant' or whatever of yours, and how the hell you got here in the first place..."
Was it just Demyx's imagination, or did Zexion blanch at those words, turning even paler than his usual icy shade? Never mind that, though, because Saix had just stated, his tone bored, "Very well; your little human pet can come with us, incubus. Keep him out of trouble."
Any protest Demyx had to being referred to as a "pet" died in his throat when Saix, right before him--transformed into a wolf, a large and graceful blue-furred wolf with a cross-shaped scar on its muzzle--
--and was then followed by the other golden-eyed...people...no, not people--werewolves, Demyx realized with a flash. Four wolves leapt through the hole after Saix, all lithe and powerful, their coats colored variously, seemingly based on the hair colors of the humans they'd transformed from. Demyx watched, his head spinning, feeling his knees grow weak. Werewolves. Well, Demyx had always known about the existence of werewolves, but had never cared; werewolf hunters dealt with the wolves, he dealt with vampires. That was that and that was the way things were...
...and hadn't Axel taught him that werewolves and vampires hated each other? That they competed over resources--namely, humans--and generally tended to kill each other on sight? Then what was--why was--what the hell--
This time, the look Zexion gave Demyx was closer to exasperation. Demyx didn't feel annoyed, but in fact, let out a relieved sigh--he was much more used to this. But he didn't have time to think any further before he felt a cold hand close around his wrist, and drag him, and--
"Whoa! What the hell?" screamed Demyx as the ground flew up to meet him and the wind rushed past his ears, causing his hair to fly in his eyes--
Zexion landed gracefully, on his feet, but Demyx sagged in the vampire's grip and fell down, banging his knees on the ground and letting loose a stream of startled expletives. He stopped mid-curse, though, when Zexion laughed--a light, low sound, a sound that Demyx had only rarely ever heard from Zexion before. He sounded...happy. Genuinely happy...
"You're already in over your head, don't you think?" said Zexion, flashing Demyx a smile that, while brief, caused Demyx's heart to leap to his throat.
It took Demyx a second to unstick his heart, which he managed with a few loud coughs and wet ahems. The wolves, who were impatiently circling the far end of the dock, turned in his direction, looking somewhat startled by the sounds. Demyx turned his attention back to Zexion, who'd released Demyx's hand and was standing a little ways off from Demyx, his hands in his pockets and watching Demyx carefully.
"Um...I don't care," Demyx said when he was able to speak--and cursed himself for sounding so stupid. "I'm coming with you, Zexion. That's final, and you can't stop me."
Just like a brat, said that quiet, sardonic voice in his head--a voice he hadn't heard for so long. Demyx almost jumped in surprise at hearing it again, but had enough self-control to not make a fool of himself like that. He instead began to follow Zexion as the incubus turned and headed the direction of the wolves. The night was cold, and a breeze that smelled of the sea--along with other unpleasant things like motor oil and sewage--carressed Demyx's face, but he found he didn't care much about his surroundings.
No, the only thing he cared about was the upcoming chase. Were the answers he was going to get from Zexion, come hell or high water.
Roxas stood in the middle of a wide, brick-paved square, feeling utterly alone in the night. During the day, this pavilion would be filled with happily chatting families and couples and strolling pedestrians, out to enjoy the fresh air and the beautiful statues and fountains littering the square, or else shopping at the many boutique stores lining the broad plaza. Axel had occasionally taken Roxas to this place, mostly to sightsee and buy food, and in Axel's case, make nasty comments about the rich ladies tottering around on heels, carrying Nordstrom bags and followed by poodles.
Now, though...in the middle of the night, the square had acquired a different feel. A darker, near-sepulchral feel... The hour was late, so late that not a single light as on, and the one security guard in the kiosk at the end of the square was fast asleep, despite reeking of stimulants and coffee. Roxas unconsciously began moving in the guard's direction, drawn by the man's scent, crossing the pavilion with slow, careful steps, aware of the darkness, the silence...
Aware of how alone he was. How small he felt all alone there under the blank stares of the towering department stores surrounding him on all sides. Still, he swallowed down his apprehension. Once he crossed the square, he'd soon be in Axel's neighborhood, and from then on...
He could find the house. Axel's house. His house. His...home.
That knowledge was enough to invigorate Roxas, and he started walking faster, lengthening his strides, anticipation pounding in his every frozen vein. Soon he'd be home again. Who cared what happened then...he could deal with it all. He still didn't know why he was going there, but it didn't matter. He'd be there, and that would be that. Maybe he would be going there to die; Roxas found he didn't mind the idea much. If he could die where Axel had died, well, that would be almost like being with Axel again.
Roxas was almost upon the central fountain in the square--an elaborate affair involving three topless dancing mermaids--when suddenly he stopped dead in his tracks, the night breeze having blown a distinct scent to him.
No, more like several--but he didn't get any time to distinguish them before a mass of fur and muscle came hurling straight at him, with all the force of a ten-ton truck. He tried to yell but the shout was stuck in his throat, coming out as more of a gurgling exhalation, but then he had no time for any other sounds before the wolf was upon him, bearing him down to the ground with a resounding crash.
Desperation and adrenaline flared through Roxas's veins, invigorating his frozen limbs, and with a feral snarl to match the wolf's, he attacked it, driving his knee into his stomach and tearing at its muzzle with his claws. It growled under his ferocious attacks, sinking its claws deeper into his shirt, but Roxas didn't care--didn't even register the pain when ice-cold blood began flowing down his chest. He didn't care--nothing mattered--nothing but getting the horrible wild dog with its reeking musky scent off--
One desperate kick connected with the wolf's side, followed by a sickening crunching sound--and the wolf flew off Roxas in an instant, letting out a high-pitched yowl of agony. Roxas yanked himself to his feet, breathing hard, no longer thinking, allowing his instincts to take care of everything for him--he glanced around, his hands curling into fists, scanning the horizon for more enemies...
Two more wolves sprang for Roxas, but he was prepared--the boy jumped on to the fountain, creating a tremendous splash of freezing water, and began scaling it, until he was near the very top. The wolves took this in stride, leaping toward the fountain as well--but scattered with startled yelps when Roxas tore the head off one of the mermaids and hurled it straight at them.
The two wolves began circling the fountain again, ducking and dodging whenever Roxas threw pieces of the fountain at them--heads, arms, he didn't care. The first wolf that had attacked Roxas was lying off to the side, breathing hard; it seemed injured. Good, he thought savagely.
"C'mon, have at me, you nasty mutts," he snarled in a feral voice that was not his own, so twisted with rage-from-adrenaline it was. "C'mon, what are you waiting for, what are you doing, whimpering like whipped dogs, pathetic--"
But then a new presence floated to Roxas's senses--and he stiffened, feeling his insides constrict with a horrible cold gripping sensation, as if a freezing hand had just reached inside his chest and squeezed, hard.
A vampire was striding towards Roxas, a vampire whose darkness-and-blood, moonlight-and-violets, scent was horrifically familiar to Roxas. It was...it was...the scent of his master.
He hated to think of it that way, but it was true. He knew it instantly, with a quivering in his blood that went beyond mere thought. He knew that if his master commanded...he would have to obey. Without question. No matter what the order was--after all, Roxas needed no further confirmation of the vampire Zexion's power over him after he'd been commanded to kill his very own mentor...
...the man he loved...
"Come down from there, Roxas." Zexion's voice was sharp, clear, and cold--like ice. He seemed to be almost glowing in the night, his pale hair and skin and shirt standing out starkly against the darkness. The vampire approached with slow, but confident, steps, a beckoning hand held out in front of him, his dark eyes hard and commanding... "Come down. That's good. Come down. Come, Roxas."
Roxas hissed, biting the inside of his cheek and not caring when he drew his own foul blood. Despite himself, despite all of his best efforts...Zexion's orders were working. Against his will, he slowly unlatched his hands from the sides of the headless mermaid he'd been clutching, hating himself as his legs began moving downwards, carrying him back down to where Zexion was standing at the base of the fountain, hand still oustretched, while the two wolves continued to circle and snarl...
Roxas had never hated himself more than when he took Zexion's oustretched hand, feeling the vampire's slim and ice-cold fingers tighten around his own. Zexion was smiling now, a soft, insidiously pleased little half-smile that caused something to burn within Roxas--something horrible, something furious--
But he could do nothing about it. With the greatest reluctance, he stepped down from the fountain, still clutching Zexion's hand, his master's hand...
And then a scent drifted towards Roxas that cleared his head of all hatred of the vampire standing before him, and caused his mind to swim in utter bewilderment.
"Zexy! Damn it, what the hell are you doing, just leaving me be--what the fuck? Holy...what the hell is...Roxas!"
The man's voice was high-pitched with astonishment, his bright blue eyes wide as saucers, his face pale. But Roxas immediately recognized the messy blonde hair, the eyes, the build, the face that was usually in a cheerful smile, not stricken by shock as it was now...and the scent, the smell of sea-salt and a gentle ocean breeze...
Demyx.
Roxas felt a million things--startled and horrified and relieved and concerned and mortified and more than a little sick...but above all, he just felt overwhelmed. He was aware that he was still holding Zexion's hand, but couldn't find any initiative within himself to let go. He just wanted to sink to the floor, sink there and die from everything, everything that was happening, he'd never meant for any of it...
"I don't--Zexion--what is--what the hell--Roxas--is he--wait...oh my God Zexion you did not!" Demyx's voice had become near-hysterical, and he kept glancing wildly around, back and forth, from Zexion to Roxas to Zexion again, looking even more overwhelmed than Roxas felt. Suddenly, the dominating emotion within Roxas became pity; he felt awful that Demyx was seeing this. Was seeing him like this...
"Demyx, you would be amazed at the things I have done for you," said Zexion, his voice quiet. He had released Roxas's hand by down, and had turned to the side, lowering his head so that his hair hid his eyes. But he couldn't hide the faint trembling that had arrested his entire body, nor could he hide how he'd gone paler, whiter than snow, upon Demyx's words.
"Zexion! What is--what the fuck--what did you do to Roxas!" screeched Demyx, now turning his gaze to Roxas. No doubt, Roxas thought bitterly, drinking in his new pallidness...the claws on his hands...the fangs that he was sure were protruding even though he'd clamped his mouth tightly shut...
"I'll explain later. Not now. Later." Zexion still sounded quiet, still sounded strained beyond imagination. Roxas stared at the vampire--his master--with something akin to pained helplessness. He was startled that he was...feeling bad...for Zexion. Why the hell should he? The vampire had ruined his life, had turned him, had made him kill Axel...but nonetheless Roxas couldn't quash the sudden feeling of sympathy that had risen within him when he saw how abject Zexion was, how he kept trying to avoid Demyx's gaze, how he was trembling harder than ever before...
Roxas was so distracted by his own confused feelings for Zexion that he didn't notice the two wolves approaching them--at least not until they dove dove straight at him, knocking him over and slamming him face-down to the ground.
"What--what the hell!" yelled Roxas, or maybe Demyx or even Zexion; he wasn't quite sure. All that mattered to him, was fighting, struggling to throw off the overwhelming weight of the two werewolves atop him, scratching, snarling--he felt a sharp flare of pain near his shoulder and realized with a flash of panic that one of the wolves had just bitten him, bitten and not let go--
"Get off! Off!" This was Zexion's voice now, though near unrecognizable with panic and anger. "Get off! We've found him! There's no need for--for this! Off of him! Now!"
The wolves wouldn't listen, though, attacking Roxas even more relentlessly--both were biting him now, snapping their horrible jaws and working their sharp canines into his flesh--he wanted to scream, to just curl up in a ball and scream so hard his lungs burst--it hurt, it hurt, and he couldn't do anything about it, he was dying, he was being killed--
Then three shots sounded in the distance, ringing in Roxas's numb ears like cannon fire--
--and then one wolf fell off Roxas's body with a prolonged yowl of agony, and the other followed soon after. They crumpled into the ground around Roxas, trembling in the throes of death, their slick blood flowing forth from beneath their prone bodies and staining the bricks. Blood that had come from bullet holes, two in the first wolf and one in the second, the bullets still visible and glinting silver...
A scent then hit Roxas's nostrils--a scent that almost sent him falling face-down to the ground in shock. It was a scent that he'd never smelled before but knew immediately, with something beyond knowledge, with something beyond instinct; a scent he recognized--a scent like smoke, like fire, like spice and shadows--
No. No. This can't be. I'm...I'm dreaming. That's it. I'm dreaming. I have to be. I'm dreaming, I'm dreaming, I'm dreaming...
But when he dared to look up, at Zexion and Demyx, he saw with a cold jolt that they, too, were staring--Demyx with just another look of stupid shock on his face, and Zexion whiter than Roxas thought a person could be, his mouth hanging wide open and his eyes huge with something close to horror, looking...
Looking exactly like he was seeing a ghost.
Roxas knew what he would see, even before he turned around with a stiff, near-reluctant, slowness. Knew it, even before the voice--the voice that had whispered in his ears so many times these past days, encouraging him, lecturing him, admonishing him--floated through the silence to greet him. Knew it, knew everything, even if it defied what he'd seen, what he'd done; even if it defied logic itself--
"Remember, Roxas, werewolves are as weak to silver bullets as vampires are, if not more so. Got it memorized?"
At the far end of the plaza, striding steadily towards him, a gun casually slung over one shoulder and a familiar confident smirk on his face, one hand in his pockets, his eyes glinting green and amused--
--was Axel.
HA HA HA HA. I'll leave you all to process that cliffhanger for a while...
The eighteenth chapter, "Slayer", is one of my favorites so far, not the least because it's the most plot oriented and we finally get some answers to some major questions (in particular....why Axel's alive and well). Plus, it's got a wonderful Zemyx moment, so yeah. Preview here:
"Z-Zexy, oh God, Zexy, Ienzo, oh God, oh God, Ienzo, Zexion, oh God..." Senselessly, over and over again, Demyx whispered Zexion's name, shaking in Zexion's gentle but strong embrace. Somehow, being able to say the vampire's name, all of his names, comforted Demyx. Helped him stay fixed to the spot, helped anchor him to the earth, helped ground him. He even felt that as long as he could do this, as long as he could cling to Zexion and speak Zexion's name, everything would be all right. He could face anything. He could live through this, he could survive the brutal destruction of all his hopes and dreams...
I hope (no promises, though...) that I can update once more, around Monday-ish (since I don't have school that day), but after that...well, I feel awful for saying this, but I don't expect that I can majorly update this story until late April. I know!!! That's awful, but...what can you do...I myself had no idea junior year would be so...rrrgh. So demanding. But around April is when I get the ACT and the AP tests done with (as well as the NCTE writing contest; I'm not sure though), so hopefully I should be able to get some major updating done then. Because I do plan on finishing this story; I'm not going to orphan it, this I swear.
Until next time, and keep reviewing, I love you all my wonderful reviewers!