Author's Note: Here's your next installment—I hope you like it! You have my overwhelming thanks for all your lovely reviews, and just a reminder—not matter how much things look like they might be going in one direction, you can never be sure. Out of curiosity, I wonder what the consensus is on Tony being turned? Most of you say yes, but as you'll find out in this chapter, it isn't going to be easy for it to end up that way.
I know it's a busy weekend for most, but as always I hope you find time to drop me a few words. It's a nice affirmation after a chapter goes up. Things are going to get rough for Tony over the next few chapters, so he and I are going to need your support—lol!
Have a wonderful holiday, and don't forget to check out xenascully and sparkiebunny for convention information!
Tiny flakes of snow fluttered down in front of the frosty window, the steel grey sky showing no sign of bringing any relief from the frigid temperature. The first time Tony had seen the castle, he had been impressed by its size; now he knew he had been completely unaware of the true immensity of the structure.
His suite of rooms stood high in a tower; beneath him he could see the stretch of block and stone that rested atop what was literally the rock face of a mountain. A village made up of tiny houses rested far below. He could barely make out wisps of smoke rising steadily into the air from fireplaces keeping the native families warm and safe. Somehow the thought of those happy families sitting around a simple hearth sharing a meal or talking quietly made him so desperately lonely it was like an ache in his stomach.
If he felt this way after three days, how was he going to feel after three months or three years? He didn't think he could survive that long.
Turning from the window, he walked around the room. A small table was set with trays from his breakfast; silver platters overflowed with fruits, breads, and jellies. He picked up a pastry, broke it in half, and put it back down. Being lonely and depressed always made him lose his appetite and it was all he could do to force himself to take a bite or two of anything.
The room itself was, for lack of a better description, sumptuous. The bed was enormous, with four large carved posts and a miles high mattress covered in thick, feather-stuffed blankets. Under other circumstances he really could have fallen in love with that bed, but not here and not now. Several large, comfortable chairs were scattered around the corners of the space. A huge walk-in closet had been filled with enough clothes for him to never wear the same thing twice in a year. Every item was in his size and similar to things he would've bought himself. Most of the wardrobe was casual; khakis, jeans, sweats, sweaters, t-shirts and pullovers. There was also a tuxedo that Tony guessed must have cost an easy three thousand dollars. The odd missing items were shoes and socks.
He had mentioned the lack of footwear to Lurch, his personally assigned manservant, or keeper, or jailer, or whatever they wanted to call him, but the quiet man had merely smiled and said he would not be allowed to wear socks and shoes on Gabriel's orders. At first Tony had wondered if the sicko vampire harbored a foot fetish to go with all his other deplorable traits, but he'd quickly realized that without shoes it would be difficult for him to try and escape across such unforgiving terrain. Tony had sighed dramatically and trotted around in his cold, bare feet, grateful he had trimmed his toenails recently.
A remodeled bathroom was attached to the suite, which contained a whirlpool tub and marble lined shower along with all the other necessary modern amenities including a fluffy white robe and oversized towels. On the far side of the room was a door to a small study which was lined with dark wooden shelves and leather bound books on a variety of topics. There was a desk and a soft leather chair across from a massive fireplace. Artwork graced all the walls.
Dammit, but Gabriel had good taste.
Boredom had settled in for the normally active field agent with a vengeance, so Tony decided to try the door leading out into the hallway. It was always locked at night, but he'd found it open several times throughout the day. Jiggling the handle, he realized this time it turned easily. Usually when he roamed around no one bothered him as long as he stayed in the rooms that were open and didn't try to get in anywhere else. He knew the room he wanted to visit anyway.
It was a large and open conservatory with floor to ceiling windows that allowed the dim winter light to filter in and create patterns on the decorative floor coverings.
In the far corner stood a black baby grand piano; a small cloth upholstered stool sat in front of the instrument. Tony had traced his finger over the smooth surface of the piano for the past few days, he'd even sat on the bench, but he'd yet to play a note. Today, as he seated himself in front of the black and white keys, his isolation got the better of him. He hadn't played in years, but found he couldn't stop from stretching his long thin fingers over the keys and placing his foot on the pedals.
Closing his eyes, he let the sounds flow through him. His friends all knew he loved music, but what they didn't know was that he could really play. It had started with instruction from knuckle cracking nuns in his youth, but at boarding school he'd been required to take music classes, and he'd continued with the piano. His teacher had believed he could be a professional and encouraged him to consider studying full-time. His father, as expected, had been less than impressed with the idea. Despite the lack of encouragement, he'd continued to take classes, even squeezing in a few every year as electives to meet fine arts credits at Ohio State.
Leaning over the keys with his eyes shut, he realized he'd forgotten what it felt like to have the small vibrations course through his fingertips and into his body. It was an emotional release he couldn't experience any other way. For a brief time he forgot where he was and what was happening to him and disappeared into the melody, his mind roaming free even though his body was still in captivity.
Aware of someone else in the room, he opened his eyes to find Gabriel staring at him from the doorway. "Don't stop," the vampire requested. "That was beautiful."
The room suddenly fell silent. "I don't play for an audience." Tony placed his hands on his lap, very conscious of the way Gabriel was watching him.
Gabriel walked casually to the piano and leaned against it. "I could order you to play for me."
Tony frowned, torn between the desire to take the smug look off the vampire's face and the knowledge that it wasn't a good idea to bait his captor. "You could do that," was all Tony said in reply.
He remembered all too well the conversation between him and the vampire the night he'd arrived here. Gabriel had sat in one of the large chairs in his room and laid out his "rules." It was ironic, Tony had every single one of Gibbs' rules memorized from number one, never let suspects stay together, to number fifty-one, sometimes, you're wrong. Those rules had never bothered him, but Gabriel's rules felt like a noose around his neck.
He was to stay in the areas of the house that were open during the day and never leave his suite at night. He was not to speak to any of the staff except for Lurch, well, his real name was Yuri, but Tony didn't care. He was to take care of himself physically; eating regular meals and showering daily-just because he was trapped in a castle didn't mean he got to be a slob. If he wanted anything; books, magazines, special foods, he was to ask. But there would be no outside communication and no television. Finally, he was to do anything Gabriel asked him to without question or complaint.
"Is that all?" Tony had commented sarcastically.
"That should be enough," Gabriel answered. "Punishment is simple. You will either be beaten or placed in the dungeon until I feel you've learned your lesson."
Of course this freaking place had a dungeon. Fortunately, the rules hadn't been pushed so far, specifically the one that would require him to do something Gabriel told him to that he didn't want to do. They both knew that wouldn't last.
As Gabriel stared down at Tony over the piano, he laughed. "It's obvious that if I tell you to play, you'll refuse simply on principal. I don't want to force your hand today, so we'll let it drop." Placing his arms on the piano, he flashed a brilliant grin. "I knew things would end up this way, that Gibbs would never turn you."
"We've gone over this. I didn't want him to," Tony stated resolutely.
"Yes, but if he'd asked, if he'd told you it was the right thing to do and what he wanted…you would've said yes. Haven't you wondered why he didn't try to convince you?"
Adrian's words echoed through Tony's mind.
"He hates being a vampire and he doesn't want that for me." Tony's voice had lost some of its confidence.
"That's true, he does hate being a vampire. He despises drinking blood. Did you know that a newly formed vampire has to be fed by his Maker every day? The fledgling won't grow his fangs for several years and in the beginning is completely dependent on his Father." He met Tony's eyes. "I took it as an honor to hunt for Adrian and feed him daily, since I knew without regular blood intake he wouldn't survive. He meant that much to me. I couldn't bear the thought of seeing him grow sick and die." He gave his long blonde hair a shake. "Gibbs would never be willing to drink every day to keep a Child alive. Now that he's older I'm sure he goes months without hunting; he can pretend he's a human that way. Why, a fledgling would be a constant reminder of what he's become. No one means that much to him."
Tony stared out the windows watching the snow fall. "Kelly would have."
"His daughter? Yes, I suppose for her, but no one else. He is a bastard."
Gabriel walked back to the door of the room. "You are quite lovely when you're lost in your music. I hope to see it again." The way Gabriel's eyes roamed his body made Tony's skin turn cold as the ice outside.
He sighed, grateful when the vampire finally left. Gabriel thought he was hurting Tony by telling him about Gibbs' distaste for blood and implying that was part of the reason for Gibbs not turning him, but the revelation had the opposite effect. Tony would never want to burden Gibbs with something he despised doing. He couldn't imagine forcing Gibbs to hunt every day just to drink enough blood to keep him alive. It was all the more reason he was glad Gibbs had refused to do it and he would never again ask to become a vampire no matter what Mike Franks or the Conclave said. It all made sense to him now that he knew Gibbs would basically have to take care of him like a newborn if he was turned. His boss was the last individual on earth who needed to be responsible for a forty year old child.
All of that, however, paled in comparison to Tony's more immediate concerns. He had picked up on the subtle cues Gabriel was sending; there was no way the vampire was going to leave him alone much longer. He had to figure out a way to get out of here. Tonight.
NCISNCISNCIS
Gibbs stared at the wood spread out on the workbench before taking another drink of bourbon. It had taken far too long for Vance to secure their passage to Albania. Finally, the correct paperwork had been completed and the appropriate individuals had been coerced. They could have just packed up and left, which is what Gibbs wanted to do, but Vance insisted they avoid an international incident. Gabriel might be an asshole, and Adrian might have a warrant out for his arrest in the United States, but the pair still held influence in their own country.
The team would fly out on the SecNav's Gulf Stream at 0500 the following morning. Mike Franks had ensured others would be waiting to help upon their arrival. Gabriel and Adrian had made their fair share of enemies over the years; Franks and Gibbs had an equal number of supporters. That network of vampires and humans would be necessary if they were going to have any chance to get Tony away from Gabriel.
Gibbs had thought coming down to the basement might help him relax so he could catch a few hours sleep before the flight, but it wasn't working. It had been three days since Gabriel and Adrian had left with Tony, and Gibbs had no idea what they were doing to his senior field agent.
His senior field agent. Is that really all Tony was to him? He'd spent ten years working with and protecting the younger man, and in all that time did he believe that Tony wasn't anything more? Once, years ago, he had jokingly told Tony he was irreplaceable; the statement had been far more honest than either he or Tony ever acknowledged.
He had put Tony on his team because he was a damn good investigator, and kept him close because he was a bellus, because he reminded him of his own screw-up with Adrian, and ultimately, because he was Tony. There was no one else like him, and there never would be.
Losing Shannon and Kelly had nearly killed him. It had sent him into a darkness he had never known before, but somehow over the years, he'd crawled back out of the pain and heartache and made a new life. Tony's laughter and irrepressible spirit had been a big part of that new life. Giving up on DiNozzo now was impossible to consider.
He was glad that Tony hadn't actually wanted to be a vampire; it made everything a hell of a lot easier. Oh, Tony had made those few half-hearted attempts to convince him otherwise, but it was easy to see right through that. The younger man was just trying to do what he thought was the right thing. Gibbs stared at the glass of amber colored liquid in his hand, knowing it wasn't what he needed. Before leaving, he really needed to hunt; it had been months, and if he ended up in a fight, which was highly likely, it would be best to have as much strength as possible. Even now, centuries later, he still hated drinking blood, especially when it came from a living person. But it was necessary; nothing could replace what it gave him. He shuddered at the idea of raising a vampire Child-hunting, drinking, and feeding the fledgling daily for several years—Gibbs didn't know if he could do it even if Tony had wanted him to. Thank God he hadn't.
The blue-eyed vampire drained the rest of the bourbon and steadied himself for the night.
Adrian had sought Gabriel out; his nephew had been lost long before Gibbs had refused to turn him. Gibbs wasn't a bully and didn't expect blind devotion, but he had always been over-protective and expected those he cared for to accept his authority. Adrian, for all the nurturing Gibbs had provided, refused to believe he might know best and left in a huff to prove him wrong.
Tony was completely different. He wasn't afraid to question Gibbs, or get in his face when he needed it. But at the end of the day, DiNozzo would usually acquiesce to his lead. His deference wasn't out of fear or insecurity; instead it was born of respect and complete and total trust. If Gibbs made a rule, Tony followed it unless he had a damn good reason not to. They had developed an understanding beyond boss and subordinate, and when he was alone the older man had to admit it was much more like that of a father and son. If Tony never came back, it would be much worse than when Adrian left; it would be so much more like losing his own flesh and blood, like those endless black days after Shannon and Kelly died. He knew what that felt like, and he didn't want to experience it ever again; he was fairly certain it would rip him apart in a way he might never recover from.
The irony was those who knew him would say that, for the most part, he was a cold and emotionless individual. That perception was completely off base; in reality he was so consumed by emotions—love, anger, passion, regret—that he had to keep those feelings locked down tight and never let them out or they would consume him and anyone around him. The closest he had recently come to losing dominion over those raw feelings was after Kate died; it had taken all his willpower not to let his rage and guilt spiral out of control. Tony, whether he liked it or not, wore his heart on his sleeve. Gibbs did the opposite-he strangled his emotions in a vice-like grip until they were buried so deep inside no one even knew they existed. But right now, things were getting so far out of hand that every nerve ending in his body felt bare and exposed—he didn't think it would take much to send him over the edge. He picked up a piece of wood and ran a thumb over the rough surface; it was going to require more than sanding to smooth out the coarseness tonight.
He sat the wood down and poured another glass of bourbon, considering what needed to be done and his aversion to it. Getting shit-faced drunk was never a good idea, but slightly inebriated made it a little easier. In light of DiNozzo's disappearance his own wants and needs weren't that important anyway. Tony had asked for none of this, and Gibbs would never rest until he'd brought him home, or punished those who had taken him away.
Even if he had to embrace the things he hated most to do it.
NCISNCISNCIS
"So tell me, Lurch, why are there so many humans working here? Don't they get worried staying in a house with a bunch of blood-sucking vampires?" Tony was lying on the bed with his fingers laced behind his head.
"As I have told you every day since you arrived, my name is Yuri—not Lurch-and this is a very good job." His voice was far more cultured than Tony would have imagined it to be and contained the slightest hint of accent as he spoke in English. The giant might look like a professional wrestler, but he acted like a college professor. "Gabriel has always taken care of our community and many of our families have worked for him for generations. He only drinks the blood of those who are willing to give it."
"There are humans who volunteer to let vampires drink their blood?" Tony couldn't help but look somewhat repulsed at the idea.
"Many consider it an honor, so yes; they provide the service of their own free will." The butler collected the plates and dishes from Tony's mostly untouched lunch. "You have not been eating very much. Gabriel will not be pleased with that information since he has made it clear your well-being is very important to him."
"Not hungry. Captivity does that to me. How many vampires are here?"
Yuri narrowed his eyes at Tony. "If I did not know better I would think you are trying to gather intelligence about us. That would not be a wise thing to do."
Tony shrugged and crossed his legs at the ankle. "I'm just naturally curious. I haven't seen anyone except humans since we arrived, but I'm guessing Gabriel is keeping me away from the rest of the occupants."
"He felt it would be an unnecessary temptation. There are always between six and twelve vampires staying here at any given time; most of them are half-blood children of Gabriel or Adrian. Many of them are young and would not have the willpower to avoid drinking from you."
DiNozzo leaned up on an elbow. "What's going to happen to me? Do you know?"
Yuri sighed heavily and pushed the cart toward the door. "I cannot answer that. Is there anything else I can get for you this afternoon?"
"No, Lurch, you're dismissed." Tony moved back to his previous position on the bed. "You really should watch an episode of The Adams Family; it would make my humor a lot more relevant."
The butler shook his head with bemused agitation at his mildly uncooperative charge, quietly shutting the door and leaving Tony alone to contemplate his fate.
NCISNCISNCIS
Gibbs glanced up as he heard the front door open and shut. The bourbon wasn't helping anyway so he sat down his now empty glass to go upstairs and greet his visitors. His feet barely made it to the last step when he found a handful of Abby in his arms.
She burrowed her head into his shoulder and let out a sob. Gibbs kissed the top of her head. "Hey now, none of that."
"I know I can't come with you guys but I'm so worried. What if you don't get Tony back or what if something happens to you? I couldn't stand it!" Her words were muffled as she cried into his t-shirt. "This might be the last time I ever see you."
"There's no way you're getting rid of me that easily, Abs. Let's go sit down." He led her over to the couch.
Mike Franks planted himself in the opposite chair. "I tried to get her to calm down, but she wouldn't listen. I couldn't think of anything to do but bring her over here to you."
"Is everyone else still at Ducky's?"
Franks ran fingers through his unkempt hair. "Yeah. They're safe; Palmer seems to be feeling better."
Gibbs nodded before looking down at Abby, lifting her chin with his hand. "Think you can dry those up for me?" He rubbed his thumb over her tear-stained cheek.
Abby sniffled. "I wish I could go with you."
"It's going to be bad enough worrying about everybody that has to go. I don't want to worry about you, too. Stay here and start planning Tony's welcome home party, ok?"
She ducked her head and grinned sadly. "I could go with a movie theme. He'd love that."
Gibbs returned her half-hearted smile. "Exactly. Pick some of those crazy-assed movies that only he knows about."
The Goth curled her legs underneath her and pushed her body close to Gibbs. "Everything will be fine. We won't lose anybody else; not like Kate or Jenny."
"Not a chance." Gibbs peeked over her shoulder at Franks. "How'd you get that old grump wrapped around your finger so fast?"
Abby's eyes twinkled brightly. "We understand each other. Underneath all that grit and gristle Mike has a very cool soul."
Franks low chortle rumbled out loud. "I've been trying to tell probie that for years."
"You're spoiling her," Gibbs accused.
"Like you haven't already done a damn good job of that. You're just afraid she'll like me better."
Gibbs wrapped an arm around his favorite scientist. "Abby has better taste than that."
"No need to fight over me, boys." It was nice to hear some life return to her voice. "Just come back to me safe and bring Tony-boy with you."
Franks stood and placed a kiss on her forehead. "For you, Abs, anything." He frowned at Gibbs appraisingly. "You going out tonight?"
The lead agent's lips thinned. "I guess I better."
Abby scowled at him. "You could always drink from me, Gibbs. I really wouldn't mind."
The half-smile returned at the offer. "No, Abby, I've told you that I'll never do that." He picked up his jacket. "I'll be back in an hour or two."
"Keep your head in the game, probie," Franks warned. "No mistakes."
Gibbs' smile turned lethal. "Never, Mike." For the next few hours he couldn't think like a federal agent or even a human being. A predator walked out of his house and onto the streets of DC.
NCISNCISNCIS
Tony sat in the cushioned chair with his leg tossed over the side, pondering on what it felt like to be a bird in a gilded cage. It had left him with way too much time to hypothesize methods of escape. He'd considered picking the locks, but he'd never been quite as good at that as Ziva and Gibbs, plus he didn't have any tools to use and there were way too many doors he would have to pass through.
Instead, he'd watched the staff as they brought him food and clean linens. An older couple in traditional housekeeper uniforms delivered the meals and brought fresh towels; fortunately they were both human. Neither had spoken to Tony since his arrival, and he hadn't tried to talk to them, considering Gabriel's rule about not communicating with the staff. The woman kept a large key that she used to unlock the doors, and he noted the key appeared to be an older style that fit all the locks. That key was his way out.
At the end of the day, when they paid their last visit, he would have to make his move. Lurch usually didn't come with them, but waited until later to clean up and check on Tony for the night. He hated to involve the couple, and prayed it wouldn't cause them any undue harm, but procrastinating any longer was out of the question. It was a dangerous undertaking, and it was highly possible he would meet up with some of the vampires Lurch said lived here before he made it outside, but he had to try.
He pulled the sheets off the bed and painstakingly ripped them into strips, hiding them in a drawer. He positioned a heavy candlestick on a side table just in case he needed a weapon. There was barely a miniscule chance this would work, but there was no way he could ever look Gibbs in the eye and say he hadn't at least attempted to escape.
He wiggled his bare toes on the hard floor and cursed his lack of shoes. A case of frostbite wasn't something he looked forward to, but there was nothing he could do about it. Maybe there was some out of the way cabin up here he might run into; otherwise he had to try and make it all the way down the mountain to the village and pray someone there would help him. At least he was wearing a thick pair of jeans and the heaviest sweater he could find. It was the best he could manage under the circumstances.
Now all he had to do was wait for the housekeepers to arrive. To pass the time, he opened up the book he had been reading: The Life of a Bellus. Many of the people who had been born with blood like his were biographied in the book; what disturbed him was that most of the individuals described had been slaves, their lives attached to powerful vampires who used them for their blood. A few had become vampires themselves, and he found it interesting that the vampire bellus usually ended up with some type of unexpected power beyond that of a normal vampire. At least if it ever happened to him, there would be one perk to the experience.
He stopped that train of thought immediately. Gibbs would never make him a vampire and he would never ask, for a variety of reasons now, so there was no sense contemplating what might happen. He didn't want it and Gibbs wouldn't give it. Instead he had to focus on reality and doing everything possible to escape. A scrape outside the door alerted him to the fact the time to make his move had come. He placed the book on the floor beside his chair.
He watched as the older woman entered, pushing the tray of food and towels. The older man, he assumed her husband by the way they interacted with each other, followed close behind. Internally, Tony sighed. They looked like a nice couple; he wished there was some other way to do this.
The plump woman flicked a gaze at him but didn't speak, apparently following the same orders that he had been. She arranged dishes and lifted covers off trays while the tall, thin man took some towels off the cart and walked into the bathroom. Tony stood and moved closer to the food, casually looking to see what had been delivered. The maid shifted nervously, uncomfortable with his proximity.
Quickly, Tony lashed out and grabbed the woman, turning her away from him and locking his arm around her neck. She gasped, but the pressure from Tony's bicep kept her from making any noise. He whispered in her ear. "I'm going to reach in your pocket and take the key. Just hold still; I don't want to hurt you."
DiNozzo couldn't tell if she even knew what he was saying, but after a few seconds she nodded. Tony fished for the key with one hand and stuffed it in his pocket. The man stepped from the bathroom and froze, face covered in fear.
There was no backing down now, and Tony had to go all the way; he squeezed harder, forcing the woman to pry at his arm with her fingertips. The man locked eyes with her in some form of silent communication.
"Open that drawer and take out the strips; tie her feet together," Tony ordered. The man hesitated, clearly not sure what to do. Tony squeezed tighter and prayed for forgiveness; the woman whimpered and gasped as he cut off her air supply. "Don't make me choke her to death," he threatened.
The old man moved quickly, taking out the strips and leaning down to wrap them around her feet. "Sit on the floor and tie your own." The old man knelt down and complied, his eyes never leaving those of his terrified wife.
"We're going to bend down," he told his hostage. "Now." They carefully went to the floor. "Hand her the strips." With shaking hands, the man handed them over, his fingers brushing her fingertips. "Tie his hands behind his back," Tony ordered, loosening his grip on her neck just enough to allow her to move. "Tight."
Once the old man was bound, Tony reached up and grabbed the heavy candlestick, sitting it within easy reach. "I'm going to finish tying you," he said firmly. "If you try to run I'll bash his head in. Do you understand?" He wouldn't actually do it, but the housekeeper didn't know that. The woman bit her lip and nodded mutely. Tony took more of the fabric to wind around her wrists. Balling up some of the rags, he made gags for them both, ensuring they couldn't yell once he left. He helped move first the woman, then the man, against the wall, letting them lean against each other. He bent in front of the couple, their eyes wide and fearful. He was disgusted at what he'd done to them, but couldn't see where he had a choice.
"I'm sorry," he said gently. He looked directly at the frightened old woman, noticing the red marks on her neck from where he had choked her and felt a pang of self-loathing. "I hope I didn't hurt you. This is the only way I can think of to get out of here, please try to understand. Gabriel, he….I don't know what he's going to do to me, and I don't want to wait around and find out. Sorry."
Tony didn't know if he fully explained to them how desperate he was to get away, and he didn't have time to try harder. Lurch could come back any minute. Grasping the key in his hand, he went to the door, reluctantly leaving the old couple sitting alone.
The hallway was quiet and empty. Based on his previous explorations, he went straight to the first set of doors he knew were locked. His breath stopped for a few minutes as he tried the key, afraid his actions had been for nothing and the lock wouldn't open; relief spread through him when the door swung wide.
He kept to the shadows and continued to move toward the front of the house, checking occasionally out the windows to confirm his movements. Any time there was a set of stairs leading down, he took those, too. Whenever he used the key to unlock a door he had to settle his racing heart and wipe the wetness from his sweaty hands since there was no way to predict if someone might be standing on the other side.
Eventually his luck ran out, as he predicted it would. Halfway down a corridor, voices approached. Making a split second decision, he ducked in an open room and pressed himself to the wall behind the door.
The voices came closer; years of experience tracking down criminals helped him stay calm and take only the shallowest of breaths, willing his body to remain still and silent.
"What's that smell?" one of the voices asked, loud and clear, obviously stopped on the other side of Tony's hiding place. He chewed his lip and glanced around for something to use as a weapon, wishing he had brought the candlestick. He couldn't see anything within reach, and moving would give away his location.
Another voice answered. "I don't know, but it smells….damn, that's good. Wherever that's coming from, it has to be around here somewhere."
He heard footsteps coming closer, and the first voice spoke again. "I can tell you this much, if I get my fangs in it, I don't think I'll be able to stop until I've taken every drop."
Tony sucked in a breath, beads of perspiration popping out on his forehead. He seriously doubted he could do much against two vampires when he was unarmed. They'd bleed him dry before anyone else in the house had a clue what was happening.
The heavy sounds were just outside the door when another person entered the conversation. "What are you two doing?" Recognizing the deep timbre of Lurch's voice, Tony felt a twinge of hope. At least if the butler found him he might not get slaughtered.
"There's some kind of weird smell in that room, we were going to check it out."
There was a long pause. "You boys better leave well enough alone and get out of here before someone else catches you snooping where you don't belong. Come on, I'll go with you."
There were shuffled footsteps moving away and down the corridor. Tony strained to hear the rest of the discussion. "Is it true that Gabriel has a bellus here? I thought maybe that was the smell."
He heard Yuri laugh. "I can assure you that if Gabriel does have a bellus he won't be roaming around on his own with the likes of you around."
The sounds died away and Tony leaned over, allowing himself to breathe again. He waited to make sure they were gone, then inched out of the room and back into the hallway, once again cautiously searching for any way to get outside.
A short time later his efforts were rewarded. He turned the key in a heavy wooden door and felt a rush of bitterly cold air against his face. It was a side entrance leading down a long flight of stairs to the ground. Seeing no one around, Tony didn't wait another second; crouching low he bounded down the steps and hugged the castle wall, scooting along the stones to make himself as invisible as possible.
A guard came around a corner without warning; Tony had no time to think but merely reacted. He grabbed the startled man's arm and twisted, turning his back to his opponent and flipping him to the ground. The guard landed with a grunt and before he could recover Tony had straddled his chest and punched him directly in the jaw. The man was dazed; Tony grasped his hair and lifted his head, slamming it heavily into the frozen earth. The guard's eyes closed and his head lolled instantly.
A thicket of dense forest stood across an open field. Tony took off running in that direction, his only thought to get away before anyone else saw him. The sun was setting quickly, and as he dashed headlong into the undergrowth, a blanket of darkness surrounded him. Not knowing which way to go, he raced forward, conscious only of the fact he couldn't stop until he was so far away no one could find him.
NCISNCISNCIS
Gibbs sat back on his knees and tilted his head toward the black sky; a warm trickle of liquid flowed down his throat. He could already feel the heady rush of adrenaline and renewed strength that came after drinking from a living being.
For some it was addictive; for him it was anything but. It was a necessary evil, something he was driven to do and had absolutely no choice in the matter. He had come to think of it as much like a chronic illness as possible, similar to taking insulin or some other type of medication to survive. Reducing it to that level was the only way he could stand to stay in his own skin.
For the first few years he had vomited every single time he drank from a person. Franks had just about given up on him ever getting over his distaste for it. When he'd finally managed to accept that drinking blood was always going to be a part of his survival, he had at least made the vow to never, ever enjoy it.
The man beneath him groaned; Gibbs looked down at his scruffy face. He tended to stick with the homeless and drifters, people not a part of the tightly woven fabric of society. They were easier to isolate, and their minds were willing to accept the haze of his suggestions as easily as they did the numbing effects of drugs or alcohol. He knew that the gaze from his blue eyes was legendary, but there was a reason for that; he could easily mesmerize humans with a lengthy stare. He had never understood the ability that all vampires possessed; perhaps it was some type of survival technique that allowed them to alter the memories of their victims so they wouldn't recall the attack except in formless bits and pieces. Whatever it was, he used it to his advantage.
That was another reason to drink from degenerates; no one would believe them if for some reason they came away with more memories than intended. They were the type of people generally written off as crazy or delusional.
Taking care to not wake the man, Gibbs pillowed his dirty hands under his head and pulled his torn jacket snugly around him. Tugging some money out of his own jeans, he stuffed several twenties into the man's pocket. It was a little bit twisted, almost like paying for the blood, but he had discovered it made him feel better to know the person he'd used had enough cash for a hot meal or several bottles of booze, whichever gave them the most comfort.
Sighing, Gibbs pulled his coat collar higher around his neck and face and made his way out of the alley, taking care to ensure there were no witnesses to his leaving. When he was relatively certain he was alone, the vampire darted away, using his renewed strength to add an extra burst of speed. If he was fast enough, he could still get a few hours sleep before they left to find DiNozzo and bring him home.
NCISNCISNCIS
Tony didn't know how long he had been running, having lost track of time soon after entering the woods. What he did know was that his feet felt like he was stepping on shards of glass with every step. At first the pain had come from all the twigs, sticks, and rocks that had jabbed and sliced into his soles. That had been replaced by a numb fire which he presumed resulted from the fact he was freezing; several inches of snow covered the icy ground and the flakes continued to fall. The curtain of white had whipped up into a blinding fury fueled by a bitter wind.
The burning in his feet was matched only by the burning in his lungs; he was aware he needed to rest, but was afraid if he stopped moving he'd never start again. That debate was ended when his uncooperative foot got caught in a hole and he tumbled over, landing with a hard thud on the cold ground. He laid there, momentarily stunned and unable to move, until a frigid wetness seeped into his clothes. With a groan he pushed himself up until he was sitting on his frozen butt.
Icicles hung from every tree branch; glistening faintly in the light of the full moon. There was an insane beauty about the scenery, even though he realized being out here much longer would more than likely kill him.
Given his alternatives and the way Gabriel had been looking at him with slightly crazy and lust filled eyes, Tony decided this might be the best way to go. He remembered a story from eighth grade lit class about a man who got trapped outside and was unable to build a fire. He eventually lay down and went to sleep, knowing he'd never wake up again. In the grand scheme of things, that might not be so bad. It wasn't as exciting as saving someone's life, or going out in a hail of gunfire, but there was something poetic about it. And at least it would be on his own terms.
He pulled his knees in and wrapped his arms around his legs, shivering miserably. Ziva would have told him this was a stupid plan anyway, and McGee would have never gone for it without a GPS to tell him which way to go. Ducky would've personally known someone who died of exposure and Abby, well she could have probably started a fire with some muddy sticks and a piece of string, just like MacGyver. Gibbs would have given him a headslap from hell for his own lack of self-preservation.
God he missed them.
What happened next went by so fast it was a blur. He was lost in his musings and didn't hear the sounds until they were crashing all around him. Branches splintered and broke, and then something was pounding into the ground, hurtling straight toward him. His head snapped up and he searched frantically through the dark night and whipping snow for what was coming. A wild snarl and growl caught his attention right before the creature hurled itself at him, knocking him backward with its heavy weight.
Wet, matted fur shoved against his face and into his nose, choking him with its reeking odor. He pushed and shoved at the solid chest but the thing didn't budge, grunting and lunging with enormous teeth emerging from a gaping and slobbering mouth. He used both hands to hold the head of the beast away from him, but it jerked free and plunged down again, reaching in with its muzzle to rip and tear at his skin. He bent his elbow and jammed it into the animal's snout, knocking the raging monster back for a second.
Tony flipped over and scrambled to his hands and knees, trying to crawl away, his fingers scrabbling against the soggy ground. He had barely gone a few feet when a white hot pain tore into his ankle, and he turned to see pointed claws latched onto his leg, dragging him backward toward razor-like jaws.
He kicked at the animal with his free leg but it didn't help; he was pulled ever closer to the creature. When the claws dug deeper, he finally screamed but just as quickly fell silent and immobile, as the animal slowly prowled up his body, sniffing, until its hot, humid breath was puffing in his face and all he could see were its bright red eyes.
Gibbs was right again. Werewolves were real, and he really wished he could still say he'd never, ever met one.