Tainted But Beautiful

Part 3: The Renegades

27. Risk

Pairings: AkuZeku, Zemyx, AkuRoku, AxDem, minor onesided VexZex, XemSaix, Marxene, Cleon

Rated: M

Warnings: Vampires, vampires, vampires...uh, yaoi, AU-ish-ness, abuse, noncon, rape, GRAPHIC SCENES, character death, OVERALL WEIRDNESS, scads of violence

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: A belated happy new year to you all! And I bring another update.

My winter break is soon to end (boo hoo...), so I can't promise when the next chapter will come, but there's lots of meaty goodness in this one. Especially when it comes to the action scenes! I'm very proud of them; I think they may be my favorite action scenes in all the story. This chapter came out in one rush when I sat down to write it, which is pretty rare these days for me...then again, I was feeling very upset when I started seeing as I'd just lost to Vexen (second battle) on Re:CoM for what had to be the tenth time. Grrrr. I have not encountered such a broken boss since Cerberus in KH1 and Demyx in 2. Now I long to play those computer games I loved so much as a kid (y'know, Putt-Putt, Carmen Sandiego, Reader Rabbit, Pajama Sam? Someone's gotta remember those games!), they were fun and educational and didn't have scary undefeatable bosses.

Remember that I'll be updating my fictionpress more often than my fanfiction, especially Most Perfect Servant. So check that one out!

In a warehouse by the seaside, the Superior of the Coven of Thirteen resumed a conversation during which he'd been interrupted a month ago.

He strode imperiously through the halls of the gloomy base, his coat flapping around him, Luxord and Kadaj following several paces behind him, as was respectful. He was speaking to them, not bothering to turn around to look at him--after all, he could hear them just fine.

"It is abundantly clear that he has returned--"

"Who?" Kadaj said, almost sulkily. "You keep mentioning this 'he', but you haven't told us who he is."

"That's right, Superior," Luxord said. "If we're to be your allies, you ought to inform us of everything."

"Everything." Xemnas hid a snort. "Well--there is a reason that I have not spoken to you in over a month."

"I thought that was 'cause you'd forgotten about us," Kadaj said.

"Why would I have? You both offer valuable alliances," Xemnas said. "I wouldn't forget potential allies so easily."

"Is that so, then?" Luxord said, and then chuckled for some arcane reason. Xemnas had long given up trying to understand Luxord's sense of humor, however.

The hall, snaking deep into the heart of the warehouse, terminated in a metal-barred door--the door to his office. His inner sanctum and retreat, where only those who he invited could enter. Xemnas unbolted the heavy bar, letting it slide back with a loud clacking sound, and then pushed the door open, gesturing for Luxord and Kadaj to enter first.

Like the rest of the warehouse, the office was spartan and simply furnished--besides a beaten and scuffed mahogany desk in the center, and a few bulletins tacked to the walls, it was bare. Xemnas thought he saw Luxord shiver slightly when he entered, which strangely made him feel satisfied; the banker gave so few signs as to his own mortality that it was always a relief to see them. And certainly, the office was colder than the rest of the already frigid warehouse (kept that way for the vampires who enjoyed it), and its air heavier and darker. It filled Xemnas' lungs when he breathed in, resting in them with a comforting weight that the feeble air of the rest of the world did not. Then again, it wasn't as if he even needed to breathe to survive.

"Tell us," Kadaj said the instant he'd entered.

"Tell you what?" Xemnas said, raising an eyebrow. Of course, he knew exactly what Kadaj was talking about, but it gave him some level of satisfaction to watch the indignity flashing across Kadaj's face--yet there was no way he could politely express it. One of many perks of being Superior of the most powerful coven in the world...

"You know what, Superior," Luxord said with a smirk. "This mysterious 'he.' Do enlighten us."

"Ahh...well, it is a complicated tale, and not one that I am willing to go terribly in depth into," Xemnas said. By now Kadaj and Luxord had sunk into the folding chairs arranged before the desk, but Xemnas remained standing. He had more power and authority this way. "But suffice to say that one day, over a month ago--"

"Hmm, you mean the day that the little incubus from the North betrayed the Coven of Thirteen? I was wondering why you'd cut short your chase of him," Luxord said.

"His name is Ienzo, and technically he hails from the South-Central European Coven, but never matter. Yes, it has something to do with Ienzo slipping from my grasp," Xemnas said. "That night...neither of you are aware of the true events that occurred. Granted, very few are besides me and Saix."

"So what did happen?" Kadaj said, sounding definitely impatient now.

"A man with whom I had once been...ahh...acquainted...reappeared that night as I confronted Ienzo and the slayers to whom he'd defected," Xemnas said, keeping his words measured and careful--he didn't want to let slip anything that Kadaj and Luxord shouldn't know. "It came as something of a surprise to me, seeing as I had believed him dead."

"Was he a vampire?" Kadaj said. He was leaning forward and watching Xemnas wide-eyed, clearly curious. Just like a child, Xemnas thought.

"No," Xemnas said. "What he was...I am still unsure of. But he had power...so much power. Mastery over the darkness itself..."

He could still remember, even though he didn't want to--that night when the mysterious darkness had flooded the plaza, blinding him, choking all his senses. His senses. Far superior to those of a mere human's, far superior to those of even most pureblood vampires! Yet in those heart-stopping, harrowing moments he had been blind and deaf and mute and helpless as any human fetus in the womb, lost and flailing in the darkness, unable to sense Saix even.

He had seen, then, in one horrifying flash--just how little he truly was. An undead creature, not even a proper vampire, a monster that by all means should not exist.

More than anything, Xemnas loathed doubt. Rarely had he ever had a cause for doubting himself--until that night.

"By the time the darkness dissipated," he said, speaking to take his mind off his dark thoughts, "he was gone. And Ienzo and his lot...had vanished with him. It isn't a far stretch to assume that they are connected--and that he is helping Ienzo."

"Oh, is that what you're trying to say, dear Superior?" said Luxord with another infernal laugh. "Someone has finally gotten the better of you!"

"Not for long," Xemnas said, trying to suppress his rising temper. "What do you think I have been spending the past month doing? Regrouping and redirecting our coven's efforts towards defeating him."

"So wait, you've forgotten about this incubus traitor?" said Kadaj.

"Hardly," Xemnas said. "They are working together, I know it. I am merely trying to face the greater threat of the two--an incubus is nothing, after all. Clever as he is, Ienzo is still constrained by his nature. But that man...or monster...I do not even know what he is. He is--unpredictable. An unknown factor. And that makes him dangerous."

"So what have you decided to do, Superior?" Luxord said.

Xemnas laughed dryly. "Nothing? We do not have enough information yet. That man...Saix and I have been searching, we have sent our best scouts and mages in an attempt to find a trail to that man. And we have come up with nothing. He has been incredibly good at covering up his tracks..."

"We're good trackers, my family," Kadaj piped up, looking expectantly at Xemnas. "We could help."

Xemnas saw right through a transparent attempt to curry favor with him; it was all he could do to keep himself from laughing. But help of any sort would be greatly appreciated...

He sensed something--a fleck of impatience, perhaps--from Luxord, and turned to glance at the human banker. Luxord was sitting with his usual calm aplomb, one ankle resting on the other knee and his hands clasped in his lap (apparently he didn't care about wrinkling his suit), but there seemed to be an edge of restlessness to him, like the fitful flickering of a candle inside a jar. He was clearly bursting to tell Xemnas something, but didn't want to right now...

Perhaps because Kadaj was in the room?

Xemnas glanced at the younger vampire, who glared back, looking annoyed. "What is it?" he snapped.

"You may go now, Kadaj," Xemnas said, gesturing imperiously towards the door. "Confer with my chief mage--I believe his name is Bartholomew? Of the North American Coven. He is in charge of the tracking efforts, so if you wish to assist with that, then you will go to him. Is that clear?"

Kadaj's mouth twitched as if he wanted to snap back a retort, but didn't say anything, though his expression was stormy. He stood without a sound, with the fluid grace all the House of Jenova members shared, and glided out of the room with visible annoyance. The boy had known he was being dismissed, but Xemnas liked that he hadn't verbally protested. Perhaps this alliance wouldn't be such a terrible idea after all...

"We are alone, Mr. Luxord," he said, after he sensed that Kadaj's scent was a decent distance away. "Speak your mind."

"Hmm," Luxord said, with that ingratiating sweetness that so irritated Xemnas. "Well, it truly is nothing, Superior...nothing solid, that is. I have hunches and suspicions, you could say..."

"And you know that I have long learned to trust your hunches and suspicions. When it comes to luck, Mr. Luxord, you never fail. Speak."

"Thank you for the flattery, dear Superior," Luxord said with a dry laugh. "Well...I happened to briefly attend the Slayer Society Ball a couple of days ago."

"Of course, someone of your stature in the slaying community would be expected to attend," Xemnas said smoothly. "And what did you see there?"

"Oh, nothing of worth..." Luxord said, arching an eyebrow.

"But?" Xemnas said.

"But I did happen to glimpse something particularly...interesting. Particularly to you, Superior," Luxord said. "One of the guests, you see, had brought a vampire along--"

"Ah? That's typical for vampire slayers who capture incubi and succubi as...pets." Xemnas spat the word out, infusing it with all his disgust. "They bring them so they can parade them in front of their fellows, to show off their conquests."

Vampire slayers. Xemnas loathed all mortals, true, but he loathed vampire slayers the most. What arrogance could compel humans to believe that they could slaughter and master vampires, their superior in every way? It would have been laughable if it wasn't so deplorable.

"Yes, that might be the case, but..." Luxord leaned forward slightly, a twinkle to his eye and a conspiratorial edge to his voice. "But this young incubus that I saw, he happened to match the description of a certain vampire--"

If Xemnas' heart could still beat, he knew it would be pounding with excitement; even now he was having trouble maintaining his composure, controlling his anticipation. He strode slightly closer to Luxord, not wanting to miss a word the banker was saying; Luxord's smile acquired a triumphant quality, as if he was pleased he was able to manipulate the Superior this way. Xemnas ignored it.

"The incubus was very slender in build, almost feminine, and about a head shorter than you and me. He had very dark blue eyes and sharp features, and his hair was a color I could only describe as slate. It was in a somewhat different style than he had in the wanted picture, but otherwise I'm fairly certain."

"Ienzo," Xemnas breathed, an icy and controlled rage flooding through his veins as he spoke the three syllables. "So he's sold himself to the slayers."

"It was only a brief glimpse, mind you," said Luxord, his eyes now twinkling with mad delight. "He and his human date quickly vanished out of the doors and I got accosted by a particularly irritating slayer...but all the same, it's something, is it not?"

"He's sold himself to the slayers," Xemnas said again, tightening his hands into fists. "That boy...I always sensed that he was the sort who was fickle with his alliances. He'd sell himself to any side that would help him most--probably the side that would do him better in bed. Despicable. I remember why I loathe all incubi and succubi--"

"But most wouldn't have his smarts, would they?" Luxord said, almost airily--as if they weren't discussing a matter of coven-wide security. Then again, Luxord wasn't technically a part of the coven, and had no investment in it anyhow. He was just playing all sides for his own macabre amusement.

Xemnas scowled as he replied. "No, they would not. That boy has most likely given the slayers ample information already. As low in the ranks as he is, he could still spill forth something vital..."

"Ah," Luxord said, raising a finger like a teacher elaborating on a point. "About that. I also hear, from the gossip I gather amongst slayers, that a group of some of the most exclusive--Florez, Marchen, La Monte, you know the drill, along with even some werewolf hunters--are plotting something major. They won't reveal it, but all the same...these rumors only started about a month ago. After the incubus Ienzo defected."

"They are plotting a strike on us," Xemnas said, keeping his voice flat and toneless, though rage burned like a star going nova inside him. "The little traitor...he's convinced them to attack us!"

"Well, then your response is logical, is it not?"

"What are you trying to say?" Xemnas glared at Luxord.

"I mean what I say, dear Superior," Luxord said most unhelpfully. "Why wait for them to strike first? You know now they have insidious designs on you, Superior. So why not do the logical thing--"

"And strike them first." Xemnas finished Luxord's sentence, feeling light-headed and strangely euphoric with relevation. What Luxord had said...truthfully he hadn't considered it. Actively striking at the slayers...for one thing, he knew that the Coven of Thirteen wasn't strong enough, and perhaps would not be for a long while, to challenge the much better organized--and more numerous--slayers. He was not yet ready for an all-out war between vampires and slayers; he'd always planned on waiting until he'd consolidated more power.

But when was enough power enough? He already controlled all of the important covens in the world, and knew he was assured now of the House of Jenova's help. So why did he need to continue waiting? Especially when the entire Coven of Thirteen--everything he had spent the better part of two centuries building up--would soon come under attack. No, he wouldn't wait for the inevitable. It was better to strike the slayers first, when they least expected it...

After all, they would have no way of knowing. Because they did not yet know about Luxord.

"Yes," said Luxord, leaning back in his chair and looking supremely satisfied. "It is...quite a gamble, I confess. But gambles always make everything more worth it."

"Yes, I suppose it is," Xemnas said, glaring at Luxord. "What do you think?"

"Me? Why, I'm nothing, dear Superior." Luxord threw his head back and laughed sarcastically. "Just a human banker who likes watching games unfold. No, I should be asking the question of you."

He leaned forward, his eyes acquiring a glinting, serious hardness. Xemnas twitched slightly; whenever Luxord started speaking like this, he rarely said anything pleasant.

"Do you believe it's a gamble you are willing to take?" he said, smiling as he steepled his fingers. Xemnas hated many things about the man--his fickleness with loyalties, his habit of treating everything as if it was all a grand game, his sickening cologne which did nothing to hide his scent of mortal flesh and corruption--but he realized what he hated the most was Luxord's smile. There was always the hint of something condescending and mocking to it, as if Luxord never meant the words he said. He smiled so blithely, as if he was free from the usual laws that restrained mortal men.

Xemnas hated that. A mortal who didn't know his place...the world could do with fewer of those.

But the fact of the matter was that he needed Luxord. Needed Luxord far more than Luxord needed him. So he would have to tolerate the man, humor him, engage him in his silly games.

And Luxord, despite cloaking his words in gaming terms, spoke of quite sensible matters. It was either kill or be killed--and Xemnas always knew which option he would pick from those two.

"Yes," he said with all the conviction he could muster, his voice booming through the room. "It is."

As night fell on DiZ's manor, causing the snow blanketing the surrounding forest to glow preternaturally in the darkness, the strike team gathered in the main courtyard.

"All right, we're either ready now or we're not," said Axel roughly; he seemed to acting as group leader. Zexion had to confess that the tall red-haired slayer put forth almost an imposing image, clad in a long dark overcoat and sunglasses, twirling around a gun in one hand while reaching behind his shoulder to adjust the Cross of the Kingdom with the other.

The Cross of the Kingdom. Even standing at the very edge of the group as he was now, he could detect the power emanating from the cross (its tarnish all gone, due to Marluxia and Namine's efforts), a power strong enough to almost make him faint. There were the blessings for safety and the spells for strength, emitting a sharp and concentrated heat like a burst of energy from a pulsar, and then worse than that was the presence of the silver itself: dull and corrosive and all-pervasive, leaving behind a permanent metallic tang in Zexion's mouth and making his head throb. He thought his knees would have long given way if it wasn't for Demyx standing beside him, one arm wrapped comfortingly around his waist...

"I hope he gets rid of that thing soon," he said in an undertone to Demyx, glaring at the cross strapped to Axel's back.

"What? Why?" Demyx said absently, fiddling with the safety on his silver-plated gun. It didn't give off nearly as offensive a presence as the cross did, but even then Zexion could still feel it, and it was most unpleasant.

There was altogether too much silver here, he thought sourly. Axel, Demyx, Xigbar, and Roxas were all carrying around silver-plated guns which were loaded with silver bullets, and had slid extra magazines of silver bullets into their coat pockets. Leon was walking around with a ridiculous weapon that he called a "gunblade," which was also plated with silver and needed silver bullets. Cloud and Marluxia's weapons were just as ridiculous: Cloud carried an enormous sword on his back, made of the finest steel but edged with silver, as most vampire slaying swords were, and Marluxia hefted a massive scythe whose curving blade was also edged with silver. Both had refused guns.

But nothing could be more offensive and horrible than that solid slab of silver on Axels' back, pulsing with nausea-inducing spells and power. A weapon like that could easily dispatch of a powerful pureblood vampire in one hit, and it didn't even have to be a hit to the heart. What it could do to an incubus like him...he shuddered.

"Hey, you okay?" Demyx seemed to have noticed the shudder, and tightened his grip on Zexion's waist. Zexion didn't want to admit how much that simple gesture reassured him.

"I will be," Zexion snarled, "when I get an appreciable distance away from that cross."

"Ohh, that," Demyx said, glancing at the cross. "Yeah...you must be taking it pretty hard, huh? Sorry..."

"It's not your fault," Zexion grumbled, delivering Demyx's arm a squeeze. "It's mine. I don't remember what possessed me to volunteer for this mission in the first place. I'm no help in a fight--"

"Oh, come on, Zexy," Demyx said. "You're the former Coven of Thirteen member. You'll know how to guide us around the warehouse."

"That is true, I suppose..." Zexion mumbled, leaning closer to Demyx. He had to admit he appreciated more than he could put into words that Demyx had said "former," small and stupid a thing as it might be. Demyx, at the very least, had long stopped seeing him as a vampire. The others once-in-a-while would wonder aloud whether Zexion wasn't a spy planted by the Coven of Thirteen, but Demyx...Demyx trusted him entirely.

Of course he would. Because we're lovers.

That thought filled him with much more satisfaction than he would ever admit. Finally, he knew what it was he'd fought so long and hard for--and it was beautiful.

"Okay, we'll sneak in from that side entrance the vampire told us about," Axel was saying to the gathered group. "Take it quietly, okay? We want the element of surprise on our side. Soon as something approaches--shoot! Or slice, whichever suits you better. This--" He tapped the side of the Cross of the Kingdom, with an affection that sent shivers down Zexion's spine, though he couldn't say why, "This I'll save for the coup de grace. The boss himself."

"And if you don't make it...?" Marluxia raised an eyebrow.

"Then whoever's with me will take it and we'll go from there," Axel said; for some reason he exchanged a meaningful glance with Roxas. "Got it memorized? We'll have to split up, that's just the nature of a job like this, but always make sure that at least one other person's with you, all right? I've got no illusions about this--we're outnumbered and outmatched here. There's seven of us and who the hell knows how many of them."

"Seven?" a voice said from the near distance. Everyone whirled around sharply, though Zexion knew exactly who he'd see. DiZ came approaching them, his robes shockingly dark against the colorless snow, looking for all the world like a moving clot of blood.

"I don't think so," DiZ continued, his rich voice ringing across the silent grounds. "Have you forgotten about me...?"

"Whoa! What's this?" cried Xigbar, sounding like he'd been hit in the head. "Hey, are you actually gonna help us?"

"That's unexpected," Leon said sardonically.

"Of course I will help," DiZ said fiercely, not seeming to notice or care about everyone's disbelieving reactions. "I have a grudge to settle with Xemnas, after all..."

His visible eye flashed with barely suppressed rage, making Zexion (though he'd never admit it) shiver slightly. This DiZ...this harsh and vengeful man...it scared him, in a way. He'd never seen anyone so intense before, who spoke with such bitter hatred... Of course, by all means DiZ had a right and reason to feel the way he did, but all the same...

"Great! Maybe you can do that magic teleport thing and put us inside the building, we don't hafta break through--" Axel enthused.

"That would not be wise," DiZ said. "He would detect my magic in an instant, and you would lose your precious element of surprise.

"Tch." A scowl spasmed across Axel's face, but he didn't say anything--probably because he realized DiZ had a point. "Well, all right, then. As long as you help us even a little bit--"

"Rest assured," DiZ said, inclining his head in a solemn nod, "I will not be a hindrance."

"So?" Cloud said. "Are we ready?"

"Ready as we will be," Axel said. "Remember, don't bother with trying to kill as many vamps and werewolves as possible. Take out the important ones. There's the head honcho Xemnas himself, but there's also that werewolf that works with him, blue-haired one, what's his name--"

"Saix," Zexion supplied.

"Yeah, that's right. Him. And I figure that this Xaldin vamp must work with him too. Take out the tougher ones. That'll cripple the entire damn coven, mark my words. And that's our entire mission, got it memorized? Cripple the Coven of Thirteen so badly it'll never be able to recover."

Zexion heard Demyx breathe in sharply beside him; he'd gone pale and his heart was pounding like a bird trying to escape a cage. He leaned closer to Demyx, draping his arms over the slayer's warm torso to try to comfort him, even though he knew that he himself was freezing to the touch and would probably simply make Demyx all the more chillier. Even so, Demyx tightened his grip on Zexion's waist and drew him closer, as if he didn't care.

"Dammit, this is scary," Demyx mumbled, shaking his head. "I've never killed a pureblood before--"

"I know you can do it, Demyx," Zexion murmured. "You have--conviction."

"Is that so?" Demyx laughed a little bit. "All the same, I know there's one helluva risk involved with this, so I guess I just wanted to--"

"Hey! Lovebirds!" Axel's sharp voice sliced through Demyx and Zexion's moment, rudely snapping them back to reality. "Hurry up and get going, dammit! We sure as hell aren't going to sit back and watch you make out, got it memorized?"

Zexion pulled away from Demyx in a heartbeat, trying to tell himself that a flush was most assuredly not rising in his cheeks. He felt a little bit better when he looked back at Demyx and saw that the slayer was blushing just as brightly; he looked like a street light. And he felt a small measure of smug indignity when he glanced at Axel and saw that the redhead had linked his hands tightly with Roxas's. Hypocrite... Though he really shouldn't expect better from Axel of all people.

"We ready?" called Axel, tromping to the snow side-by-side with Roxas. "Let's go!"

The night was one of those tumultuous nights that Roxas had often dreaded during his life on the street. He had never been able to explain why, and certainly did his best to hide it because Hayner and Pence would do nothing but tease him mercilessly about it, but that didn't stop him from feeling a strong foreboding during nights like these, when roiling deep purple clouds rioted in the black sky, blocking the light of the stars and the faint sliver of the moon. A night well suited for a battle, he supposed.

And this time he knew he had all the reason in the world to feel dread--because they would be entering a real fight. Very soon. Step by step, as the group clung to the edge of the wharf on which the Coven of Thirteen's warehouse was situated, they came closer and closer to a building full of vampires and werewolves. Monsters that wouldn't hesitate to kill them, dismember them, and drink and revel in their blood afterwards...

To say Roxas was nervous would be the greatest understatement of the century.

But he had to do this. Long ago he'd resolved to take out Xemnas and all those who threatened him and his friends and loved ones. He'd made his decision and he sure as hell wouldn't back down now.

Axel turned towards him, offering a grin that flashed in the darkness. He didn't say anything, but that reassuring smile was enough to lift Roxas' spirits a little. He followed after Axel, clinging tightly to the gun in his hand and ignoring the offensive bite of silver against his skin.

I'm a slayer first and a vampire second! It doesn't matter--nothing else matters--

And then the group assembled in front of the salt-scoured and graffiti-streaked warehouse wall. It stank of raw sewage and rotting fish, cut sharply with the heavy salt and oil smell of the polluted ocean lapping thickly around it. But deeper inside was a darker and heavier scent, one of blood and midnight shadows--vampires. And always the musk of werewolves...Roxas felt his nose instinctively wrinkle, and saw out of the corner of his eye Zexion scowl in disgust. Vampiric instincts were strong, no matter how much he tried to deny them.

"Hey," hissed Axel to Zexion. "Where the hell's the entrance?"

"Yeah, I don't see a door," said Xigbar in just as quiet a whisper.

"Have you stood us all up?" Marluxia said with urgent ferocity, tightening his grip on his scythe.

Zexion wordlessly shook his head and glided forward, releasing his grip on Demyx's arm. He opened a pale hand and rested it on the sludgy bricks with a strange tenderness, before tapping them in a complicated sequence that Roxas, even with his enhanced vision, couldn't entirely follow.

A great grinding issued from the bricks, astonishingly loud in the night silence; Roxas saw several members of their group flinch. Slowly, the bricks began sliding apart from each other, like a house of cards falling apart, opening and retreating back and back and back until a gaping, man-sized hole was visible in the wall. From it the scents inside the warehouse wafted out even more intensely.

Zexion stood in front of the hole and swept his arm towards it in the universal "after you" gesture.

"Hmm..." DiZ said, breaking the silence. "Fascinating. This seems to be a side entrance used largely by more lower-ranked vampires--incubi and succubi, I'd imagine--"

"Yes," Zexion said, his voice strangely strained. "We are not allowed to enter through the front, because the Superior believes our presence defiling."

He said it with a strange measure of pride and some irony as well--probably because he knew full well his intent tonight was to defile the Coven of Thirteen. Not just defile, but destroy it utterly.

Cloud and Leon exchanged glances. "Well, we'd better go in," Leon said.

"Don't get killed," Cloud told him, his voice flat and clipped, though layered with an emotion Roxas couldn't understand--no, he understood full well, and it made his heart ache, ache with sympathy for the two of them...

"I could say the same to you," Leon said, and they stepped forward, drawing their weapons as they did so.

"Show time," Xigbar mumbled, stepping forward with Marluxia, who gave his scythe an ominous and needlessly dramatic spin.

"C'mon, Rox." Axel was by Roxas' side, his warm presence a greater comfort than Roxas would ever admit. "Let's go and give them a hell of a show, all right?"

Roxas gazed up into Axel's eyes, which behind his sunglasses were as vibrant green as he remembered, and burning with that light that he had seen many times over the past month yet always took his breath away when he glimpsed it anyhow. That aching tenderness...that love. A part of him still couldn't get used to the idea of what it really was the two of them had--it almost seemed too good to be true.

But it wasn't, of course. Axel loved Roxas and Roxas loved Axel and that was the here and now. The truth. Returning Axel's smile, he reached out and gave Axel's warm hand an encouraging squeeze, before drawing his gun from the holster. Axel nodded and drew his own gun, and together, they strode towards the warehouse. Towards the battle.

Everything was wrong the instant they entered through the dark hole.

They'd intended to go in pair by pair, at controlled intervals, and then split up when they headed inside. That had rested on the expectation of a relatively empty entrance hall, which Zexion had assured them would be the case--nobody but the odd incubus or succubus would be occupying the hall, and those were easily dealt with.

But shortly after Cloud and Leon had entered, they'd heard--the unthinkable. Roars and snarls, reports from bullets, the sick wet thuds of sword meeting flesh. Battle sounds. In an instant the others had rushed in, weapons ready--

Into the midst of a violent fray.

Demyx had never been in such a chaotic fight before, and that was saying a lot seeing as he'd been in many. But nothing like this--werewolves were everywhere, snarling and snapping and leaping at him, so close that he couldn't get a good shot in; he had to smack them aside with the gun, reveling fiendishly in their howls as the silver plating slammed against their fur. And then vampiric guards, lumbering muscle-bound creatures, hurled themselves upon the invaders, slashing with their claws--Demyx shot wildly every time he saw a pale form flicker at the periphery of his vision, terrified that if he didn't react on time he would be gutted like a fish by those scalpel-like claws--

He'd lost track of his comrades, though he could still hear them--Marluxia's inarticulate roars and the snicking and swishing of his scythe, Xigbar leaping back and forth and firing incessantly with his two guns, Axel cursing as he emptied bullets into the mob, the bursts from Leon's gunblade. He had no idea where DiZ was; maybe he'd teleported himself to where Xemnas was, hell if Demyx knew or cared.

A werewolf leapt straight for his throat--Demyx raised his gun but not quick enough--the werewolf slammed into his chest and bore him to the ground with a dull thud, clawing at his chest while it lowered horribly sharp saliva-slick teeth over his exposed throat, its hot and foul breath clouding in Demyx's vision and preventing him from thinking clearly--he had to do something, anything--

A snarl that was somewhat more high-pitched than the snarls from the werewolves, and then a hiss and the sound of the werewolf roaring in pain--blood arced in the air--the werewolf's grip on him slackened and it tumbled off him, whimpering like a whipped dog.

"Demyx!" shouted Zexion, extending a hand towards the slayer on the ground. "Are you all right?"

"Y...yeah, I think," Demyx stammered, unable to take his eyes off Zexion's hand--no, not his hand, but at the shockingly crimson blood staining his claws, at the blood dripping from the corners of his smouth and smeared on his chin--

"This is disgusting," Zexion hissed as he wiped the blood from his mouth, having hauled Demyx up to a tentative standing position. "I had to bite one of them to get it off me--most unpleasant. The taste will be in my mouth for days--agghh!"

He cried out in surprise as a vampiric guard came rushing towards him, swinging a sharp-clawed hand--Demyx reacted without thinking and fired, blasting the guard's head off in a mist of red and white. He tried to ignore how the blood splattered all over Zexion's coat...

"I owed you one," he said, offering Zexion a weak smile. "C'mon, let's go!"

He could hear the sound of more fighting and struggling up ahead--which heartened him greatly. So some of them had managed to break through...

But he wondered why the hell they'd even been greeted by the wolves and guards in the first place. Wasn't the hallway supposed to be empty? Yet it almost seemed as if the coven knew that the slayers would be coming, and had set up an ambush...

More vampires were pouring into the halls, snarling and slobbering pasty-faced creatures clothed in bloodstained rags. Made vampires. Strangely, seeing them reassured Demyx somewhat--he was familiar with fighting these, not purebloods and werewolves. Immediately he fired at them, smiling in satisfaction as they fell down in blazes of red. Zexion threw himself at them as well, slicing rapidly with his claws--it seemed some sort of black flying creatues were surrounding him too, attacking the made vampires with talons and beaks and leaving behind bursts of black feathers.

Ravens? Demyx blinked, feeling strangely giddy. He thought they--the morbid and intelligent birds--were much more suitable familiars to Zexion than the typical bats.

"Nice welcoming committee ya got here!" Demyx heard Xigbar yell somewhere close by, filling him with the incongruous urge to laugh.

Xigbar, who it seemed was directly behind them, had pegged the three made vampires blocking the end of the hall on their foreheads with three neat consecutive shots. Even in his old age, he was still as skilled a shot as ever... Demyx turned to face Zexion, noting with some amusement that a raven, somewhat larger than the rest, was sitting on the incubus's shoulder.

"C'mon, before any more come," he said, gesturing down the hall.

"Right." Zexion ran after him, their steps ringing surprisingly loud against the cold concrete. It seemed this stretch of hall was empty...well, not quite. Many corpses, both of wolves and vampires (both made and guards), were sprawled on the ground, sliced and shot beyond recognition and leaking puddles of blood on the dark concrete. It seemed Cloud and Leon had been down this way.

"Shit, why'd we get a welcome wagon in the first place?" Demyx yelled. "It's like they were expecting us--"

"I do not know," Zexion said tightly. "Ah--be careful, Mephistopheles is telling me that their next line of defense is a group of mages--they will be skilled illusionists and barrier mages, I'd imagine--"

Demyx goggled at Zexion. "Mephistopheles? Couldn't you have been a little more original with naming your pets?"

"Mephistopheles is not a pet, she is my trusted familiar," Zexion snapped, patting the raven on its glossy-feathered neck.

"She?" Demyx said incredulously.

"Yes, now--ahh, we've arrived."

Indeed they had. Blocking a fork in the hallway was a small group of vampires, more slimly built and more human in appearance than the guards. At the very forefront was the nerdy vampire with the bowl cut and coke-bottle glasses, Bartholomew.

He was crouching in a circle of dark symbols that seemed to be drawn of blood, and directly in front of him was a flickering, undulating barrier of deep purple light, blocking the hallway like a screen. Demyx instantly rushed towards it--it looked flimsy as hell--but Zexion snatched him by the back of the coat and dragged him back.

"Are you insane? That's a hellfire barrier of the fifth degree. You'll be scorched alive."

"Greetings, traitor," said Bartholomew unhappily. "It's a shame someone pretty as you chose to betray us--I was thinking of taking you to my bed myself--"

"The only bed I foresee taking you to is your deathbed," Zexion said--which Demyx thought was a pretty decent one-liner, if Zexion hadn't delivered it in an utter monotone. He raised a hand, and Demyx sensed the familiar rush of darkness that was signature of the vampire using his powers.

But all Zexion could do was cast illusions. How was he going to break through this supposedly impenetrable barrier?

"You're actually going to challenge us, incubus?" shouted a tall female vampire with a particularly bitchy look to her. Maybe because Demyx had dated a lot of girls that looked like her. "With your weak powers? Bartholomew, let's destroy them the way we destroyed that lot--"

That lot? At first, Demyx had no idea what she was talking about--but then realized with a chill that she must have meant Cloud and Leon. He didn't see them around, after all...

"Oh, shit, no," he breathed, his hand flying to his gun--but what use would that have on vampiric mages? They weren't the most physically strong, he knew, but with their magic they were practically unbeatable unless you knew a little magic yourself. All Axel had bothered teaching him were a few basic blessings and spells intended to ensure that weapons lasted longer and were more accurate.

"Right you are, Liesel," Bartholomew said. "Ready?"

The female vampire and several of the other vampires beside her worked at once, their hands flying in imperceptible motions as they sketched dark circles and markings--out of their own blood, Demyx realized with a sick sensation--on the concrete.

Mephistopheles cawed a warning and Zexion snatched Demyx by the arm, dragging him backwards. His face was whiter than Demyx had ever seen it before, and his eyes were wide with genuine terror.

"That's a high-level spell--an eleventh-degree damnation working--we must get out of the way unless you wish to be sent to one of the lowest levels of hell--"

"Huh? What? Hell?" Demyx squawked. "Hey, you can't be sent to a place that doesn't exist--"

"Well, not technically the Christian hell, it's more a breeding place for demons and--why am I telling you this, get back get back!"

"There's no escape!" cried Bartholomew, as Liesel and the other vampires chanted behind him, in a language that sounded like shattering glass and roaring fires. "We're going to direct all our force right to the middle of you, traitor--"

"You think so, huh?"

Demyx goggled at the two figures that had appeared in front of him in a burst of blinding light, light that sent the vampires (Zexion included) reeling back and howling in surprised pain. Cloud and Leon stood there, Cloud looking grim and determined, his sword drawn, and Leon looking very much like he'd stepped off the Twilight Zone Tower of Terror.

"What--what was that?" he gasped at Cloud.

"A taste of Hell," Cloud said with a noncommittal shrug. He turned towards the vampires again, pointing his massive sword at them in warning. For some reason, he seemed to be glowing with a light of his own, a light Demyx couldn't explain yet he liked it; it was soft and gentle, yet fierce and crackling at the same time. The vampires seemed to hate it, however, for they were drawing back and hissing like a nest of snakes; even Zexion was stumbling back, an arm flung before his face as if Cloud's gentle radiance was blinding.

"I'm a member of the Strife family of vampire slayers," Cloud declared, striding forward. "You might have heard about us. We've been melded with the blood of angels."

"No--no!" cried Bartholomew, waving his arms frantically. "No--stay back, stay back!"

"That means that none of your unholy magic will have any effect on me," Cloud continued, his tone measured but fierce. "Now step aside."

"No! We won't!" Bartholomew roared, leaping forward; he'd lost his coke-bottle glasses, and without them looked horribly wild and deranged--the monstrous creature of the night he really was, beneath the teacher's pet exterior. "Liesel--everyone--prepare the spell again--"

"It won't work," said Cloud, and he stepped forward--right through the barrier.

Zexion gasped and his hands flew to his mouth; he looked full well as if he expected Cloud to be incinerated on the spot. Which, given the way Zexion had described the barrier, was probably supposed to have happened. But it didn't. Instead, Cloud stepped through it like it was a silk curtain, too flimsy to hope to hold him back. He was standing only inches from Bartholomew, who cowered and screamed and whined all at once.

"No--no no no, I won't let you, I won't let, I won't aughh--"

Cloud sliced through him in a single swift and dispassionate motion, cutting Bartholomew clean in half. Bartholomew's torso fell to the ground, writhing like a crab on its back; his legs buckled and folded and fell forward, kicking like a drunken tap dancer. Blood sprayed from both his severed halves, a veritable fountain that drenched the surrounding vampires and Cloud, though Cloud was handling it much better than the screaming vampires were.

"Well," Leon said almost sardonically. "Seems like maybe I've underestimated you."

Cloud responded with a very gay, yet very fitting, flip of his hair.

With Bartholomew's death, the purple barrier had fizzled out of existence; Cloud and Leon seized on the opening immediately and fell upon the vampires, hacking and stabbing and shooting and raising up bursts of icy blood. Demyx stood there, dumbfounded, for a second, before Zexion's hand closed in a vise grip around his arm and dragged him forward.

"Let's go!" he shouted, rather needlessly, since he was already running.

Demyx didn't hesitate to obey, dashing after Zexion and through the struggling vampires and slayers. He wanted to call a thanks to Cloud and Leon--Cloud especially--but before he knew it he and Zexion had rounded a corner and the two were gone from his vision, though he could still hear them fight.

"Oh God what was that?" he gasped.

Zexion didn't seem to be paying attention. "Angel blood," he said, his manner perfunctory; he was focusing more on Mephistopheles, now resting on his oustretched wrist. "Ah, so he's chosen to hole himself up...of course. Befitting of him...but what's this? You say DiZ is with him. Hmm...fascinating. Well, I suppose we should leave him to DiZ and Axel, we shall go find Saix next, I presume..."

Mephistopheles flapped back to her perch on his shoulder; he turned around to fix Demyx with an expectant look that Demyx wouldn't dream of contesting.

They rounded another corner; the halls were surprisingly empty now, though streaks of blood on the walls implied that struggles had gone on. The instant they entered the new hall, though, Demyx gasped in mixed horror and wonder.

Vines were growing all over the walls, thick around as tree trunks and pulsing and dripping with sap and so very alive. Massive thorns the size of kitchen knifes were growing from the vines, and many of them had wrapped around the limp or faintly struggling bodies of vampires and werewolves, impaling them through and constricting until they'd crushed bones. Blood splattered the floor and the vines, rendering the hallway in a shocking tableau of green and red. Christmas colors, a ridiculous part of Demyx thought.

"Where the hell'd these plants come from?" he gasped in wonder.

"Marluxia, it seems," Zexion said. "Ahh, that makes sense. His blood is melded with that of the wood fey."

"Wow," Demyx gurgled. So this--this was the difference between a pureblood slayer and a puny human like himself. The ability to come back to life...the ability to resist vampiric magic...the ability to command such violent plants. He began feeling very insignificant and useless.

"I won't be able to do anything half as cool, huh?" he sighed.

"That is not true." Zexion gave him a stern look. "You may not be able to fight as flashily as they do, but if we take out one of Xemnas's top lieutenants--or even Xemnas himself--then that does not matter. We will have done something far greater."

"Yeah, that's true," Demyx said, "but the operating word is if. So, we're going for Saix now...?"

"Yes...what's that? Axel is closer to him?" Zexion was speaking to Mephistopheles again. "Ah, well, Axel's task is to take care of Xemnas, not Saix, so we might as well take the wolf for ourselves--oh!"

He lurched back almost as if he'd been hit, clinging to the walls for support, his face even whiter than it usually was and his knees shaking. Demyx rounded on him, concerned; ever since they'd entered the fray, Zexion hadn't come this close to losing his control. Clearly, something dangerous was around the corner...

Mephistopheles was flapping around her master, cawing warnings and beating her wings in panic, which only wound Demyx's own panic to a higher pitch. Just what the hell was going on? "What's going on, Zexy?" he shouted, his voice strained beyond belief. "Tell me, dammit--"

"H-he's approaching--" Zexion gasped, pressing his back further against the wall. "Oh no, oh no, he's coming--"

"Who? Who?" screamed Demyx, feeling ready to murder someone in frustration. "Xemnas? Saix?"

"N-no." Zexion shook his head violently. "Not them--"

"Great, then what do we have to worry about? C'mon, Zexy, let's go--" Demyx extended a hand towards his panicking lover--

And then let it drop down to his side again, stiff with horror, as steps rang down the vine-choked hall and a figure appeared on the far end, coming closer and closer to them with every light yet powerful stride. It was a strongly built and tall figure, heavily-muscled yet graceful, with a chiseled face surrounded by a nimbus of dreadlocks blowing in a small breeze that only it could feel.

A sadistic smile spread across the vampire's face and glimmered in his purple eyes as he approached.

Xaldin.

DUN DUN! Cliffhanger time! And since I'm having issues with the next chapter (really, I haven't plotted the end of the story out at all!)...you'll have to endure this cliffie for a very long time!

Next chapter, I believe is called "Axel," and is the first time Axel's POV will appear in this story. In my current plans, it's more character-driven and more of a character study than the rest of the story, but who knows? A lot is subject to change at this point.

Preview, if the chapter actually stays that way:

And then one early morning he finds himself lying side by side with Demyx, both stark naked and sweat-soaked and the sheets a tangled mess around them. He can't even think to regret anything, can't think at all--when he tries to grasp what happened it slips from his mind like sand from an open hand. No, not slips, but rather...he's afraid to face it. The enormity of it all. How could he have done that? Yet here he is, lying by his student after a passionate night together and he doesn't feel anything, particularly, except for a strange contentment that he can't explain. Nor does he really want to. Slowly he turns to face Demyx, taking in the boy's sweet and content face, his tan skin so unlike Axel's own pallor, blond strands drifting in front of closed eyes. He's dreaming, and they seem to be happy dreams.

Axel wouldn't dare disturb those dreams, so he turns to the side and glances out the window. "I guess what matters," he says in a whisper, "is that you're here and I'm here and that's all that matters."

This is subject to a lot of change, so don't expect these exact paragraphs to show up in that chapter. Most likely the general idea will be there but not the phrasing, if I keep the Axel-centric chapter at all.

Note that I've thought about turning the universe of Tainted into an original vampire story--just change a few names and it pretty much is an original story already. Even though it has a shitty plot right now (seriously, am I the only one who noticed the timeline implosions around the time that Zexion "killed" Axel and Demyx got captured by Xaldin? Am I?). If you're interested in what a non-KH Tainted would look like, do check out my lj! The link is on my profile.

Remember to review, and now excuse me as I try beating Vexen again. Or rather, I go play Putt-Putt Travels Through Time.