Chapter 28

Grimmjow merely cocked a brow when the garganta opened in his room and spat out Vellena. He'd wondered where she'd gotten to. Upon spotting him, her long ears twitched. A flash of inner disquiet passed through her features – it would have been unnoticeable to anyone else, but Grimmjow had spent a hell of a lot of time with this woman over the last month. It vanished almost as fast as it had appeared, and he almost thought he imagined it.

"You're back," Vellena said mildly, sliding gracefully into the armchair across from where he sprawled on the couch. "How was the meeting?"

"Che." Grimmjow frowned, trying to banish the memory of Aizen forcing him to his knees with that terrible reiatsu. That bastard always had to hold him down. He wanted that kid's blood, that kid's death at his hands – that would be good for Aizen, wouldn't it? So why was he forced to sit here while the damn kid ran amuck?

"Not well, I take it?" Vellena asked, interrupting his angry train of thoughts.

"Kurosaki and his pals have invaded Hueco Mundo." Grimmjow said. At Vellena's raised eyebrow, he continued. "We've been ordered not to attack him."

"Ah." That breathed syllable carried a tone of sympathetic understanding. Vellena knew how badly he wanted to kill the kid. "So what now?"

"Now we fucking wait around until he gets here. When that happens, I'm gonna hang him with his own guts."

"When will they arrive?"

"No clue. They're really far away. Might be a day or two. Fuck." He grumbled, feeling frustrated. "So where were you?" he changed the subject.

"Wandering the halls. This place is huge. A month, and I still don't know it." She replied easily. Again, he thought he caught that little flash.

"Yeah there's parts I haven't even been to." He agreed. "Gods, I hate waiting." He fumed.

"We could go spar…" Vellena suggested.

"No." he wasn't in the mood for that. He didn't want some bloodless bout that ended with no casualties; he wanted to kill. And as bloodthirsty as he was, he didn't want to kill Vellena. That would be upsetting, more upsetting than his fraccións dying; he realized with a slight flash of concern. He shouldn't be having that kind of thought. He would be king; other people were just things to use, things to rule. He wrenched his thoughts onto another course, one more comfortable. "So if you lost your mace yesterday, how was it you almost killed that captain?"

Vellena shifted uncomfortably. "Sanguiferrous." She stated. The way she said the name, it sounded like she was naming a zanpakutō.

"Is that the big red sword?" he asked. She nodded, looking a little bit uncomfortable. Why wouldn't someone want to use their own zanpakutō? "Why don't you use it more often?"

"Because it has a tendency to take over my body when I fight for too long." She said. "The best way to keep it from taking over is not to use it. Sometimes it is the only choice, however."

"What makes it so different from your other weapons?"

She was quiet for a moment. "It's a Runesword. The others are weapons that I have added runes to. Sanguiferrous is extremely old, semi-intelligent, and very powerful. It is the reason I am the way I am now. Arthas ended my life and brought me back as one of his Scourge; Sanguiferrous made me a Death Knight."

Like a zanpakutō, yet still different, then. He thought about Pantera. The blade was part of what made him what he was – arrancar as opposed to just adjuchas. Pantera too, had a will, a form of intelligence. But it couldn't take him over. What did that involve? "So what happens when it takes over?" What did it matter, if it made her a better fighter?

"After a while I can no longer tell friend from foe. I just kill everything in sight until the blade is physically taken away from me. It's rather… inconvenient." Yeah, he guessed that might be. She continued, "It's a powerful weapon, though. When I use it, I'm stronger, faster, more lethal, and I can survive things that would otherwise destroy me. Sometimes the risk is worth it."

The mental image of Vellena on a bloodthirsty killing rage was kind of appealing. He bet she would look pretty hot like that. He gave a wry grin. Unfortunately, he could see her point – it would be inconvenient at the best and a damned disaster at the worst for her to embark on a mindless rampage. Immensely entertaining, no doubt, but definitely inconvenient. "I see."

They were silent a while. Then, "Shit I'm bored." Grimmjow complained. Vellena looked as though she might agree.

"Well," she said after a moment, meeting his eyes with a mischievous twinkle in her own, "There's other ways to pass the time."

"Huh?" He watched as she rose and walked a few calm steps away, turning to look at him over her shoulder on the way to the bedroom. He rose with a grin, following her. He fancied seeing her tied up again.

Three days. Three days spent pretty much entirely in bed with Vellena. It kept Grimmjow's mind off the kid, whom he could feel getting closer and closer, kept him pleasantly distracted. However, when the shinigami and his pals finally broached the citadel, sex was no longer enough to distract him. He was restless, short tempered. He started pacing in the room. He felt like a caged animal.

Vellena eyed him with annoyance, but he didn't care. Finally, she sighed, pulled out her bags, and started the familiar ritual of preparing her weapons. He had seen her do this many times before – it was what she did instead of pacing.

After a while, he stopped, huffing. She paused in her ministrations to look up at him. "I'm going for a walk." He stated abruptly.

"Ok." She replied. She didn't say 'be careful', or 'stay out of trouble', or anything like that. Vellena wasn't like that, thank the gods. She didn't nag; she didn't gripe, moan or bitch. She was only submissive in the bedroom (which he liked a lot), but her lack of subservience never bothered him outside of it. He could always rely on her not to piss him off. Like right now.

He left his apartments, roaming the halls, tracking the brat's progress with his senses. The invasion party had split up, but he didn't care. He felt it when Aaroniro died, but he didn't care. He only cared about Kurosaki. He ground his teeth when he felt the boy's reiatsu clashing with that of that Privaron, Dordonii. When Kurosaki's reiatsu emerged victorious, he smiled. No one else was going to kill that kid; Grimmjow would do it or kill anyone who dared steal his prey.

When he felt Ulquiorra's reiatsu confront Kurosaki, he froze in his tracks, rage burning through every fibre of his being. When he felt Kurosaki fall, he howled his anger at the empty hall. How dare Ulquiorra?! Bad enough that the tear-faced bastard stopped him from killing Kurosaki once already; how dare the little fucker steal Kurosaki's death too! He paused momentarily, thinking. The girl! The girl could heal Kurosaki back to normal, and then… then he would have his fight.

Finding the girl was no problem. He was a little surprised to discover the reiatsu of those foolish whores, Loly and Menoly, in her room. He blew the door in contemptuously. The girls froze in their beat-down of Orihime, giving him looks of abject fear.

"G…Grimmjow!" one stammered. He grinned, wide and hungry.

"Oi! Scampering in and having a little fun while Ulquiorra's away, are we?" The terror in their eyes pleased him immensely, but it wouldn't be enough to save them. He shut up Loly with his boot, and effortlessly blocked Menoly's idiotic attack. Methodically, he reduced them to broken, blasted heaps of flesh. Loly was dead.

There, that was repayment for his left arm, wasn't it? Now he had a job for her. Reluctantly, he sat through the healing of Loly and Menoly – he didn't really appreciate his handiwork being undone, but if it would get her to cooperate, so be it. Then he bound her, gagged her, and slung her over his shoulder. He had a brat to destroy.