North pushed them at a brutal pace as soon as they left the village. And he had to, the big man reasoned. Even if the villagers weren't taken by anything of the supernatural variety, whatever they'd been captured for still wouldn't be good. After all, humans could be just a malicious and cruel as any of the monsters that stalked their world. Just the thought of anyone of the horrors humanity was capable of being inflicted on his family had North's stomach curling. So he pushed them; the faster they found the missing, the more likely it was that the three would find them alive.
Of course, with Aster at the front, as he was the only one who could track their lost fellow villagers, the younger man was more in charge of setting the pace than North was. It rather conflicted with North's preferred speed, which irked the man to no end. As did Aster's set schedule for daily travel.
"What do you mean we're stopping?!" He demanded.
"Ah mean we're stoppin' fer the night. It'll be dark soon," Aster explained again, meeting the older man's stare with no hesitation.
"There are hours of light left, we can keep moving!" It was the third time in as many days that they'd come to a stop with so much time left in the day. This was bordering on insanity, and North was putting his foot down.
"Not worth the risk."
""Not worth the risk? Not. Worth. The. Risk! Do not tell me is not—every day we waste is a day further ahead of us they get with my family!"
"Nick!" Aster snapped, stalking forward until the two were only a breath apart. "Stumblin' about in the dark isn't gonna help anythin'. In fact, we're likely to waltz right off the trail and that will take 'em further from us! You want any chance of getting' 'em back, then ya gotta shut up an' follow my lead!" Aster took a calming breath and gathered his wits now that North was too stunned to grip at him.
"We gotta be smart about this, North," he continued in a gentler voice, seeing from the North's defeated face that he was getting through to the elder man. "Which means we gotta stop when it gets dark. Trust me."
North exhaled slowly, form hunching forward in acceptance of the point. It wouldn't help anything to go wandering around clueless in the dark, he knew that. But that didn't quell the unease in his gut.
Three days, they had been on the move for three days. That made four days that his family had been with whatever foul things made up their captors. Four days for however had them to do all manner of things, horrible things, to his wife, his little boy or his darling baby girl. And didn't that thought just make it so he couldn't breathe.
He sank to the ground under such thoughts, feeling old, far, far too old to be doing this.
"I want them back, Aster. If something happened to them I don't, I don't know what I'll," North trailed off, hiding his face in his hands as his throat closed off.
"Ah know, me either. Yer tired, mate. Ya won' do 'em any good like this. Get some rest," the younger encouraged as he knelt to North's level and placed a hand on the bigger man's shoulder.
North nodded, mostly to himself, and settled into a more comfortable position on the ground. And tried to banish the images of his family dead or tortured from his mind. He just tried to focus on taking deep, calming breaths as he watched Aster and Sandy make the camp fire. Tried to work on regaining his strength, hoping it would soothe the painful twinge in his stomach.
It may have been the fact that he was focusing on anything other than his thoughts that North realized they'd been followed. His eyes flew open and narrowed, but he kept his body still and relaxed. Ever so slowly, he reached for his sword while his eyes scanned the area for whatever it was that was stalking them. He kept perfectly still, his grip on the hilt of his sword firm.
There! In the outcrop of rock just next to where they were making camp: a humanoid shadow. Threat identified, North drew his sword and leaped up, darting to the rocks before the shadow could even register his movement. North hit the shadowed figure in a full bodied tackle, and it gave a surprised, very feminine shriek as it was dragged to the ground. As the two rolled away from the rock and into the fire light, where North promptly pinned the figure down with a sword to the throat, he saw why. Their stalker was a woman, just a young girl, a few years younger than Aster.
The girl was a tiny thing, willowy thin with delicate features. Her big violate eyes rested over a small, petite bird like nose, all wrapped up in a pretty sun-kissed, soft, heart shaped face. Those eyes focused on his face, obviously terrified at the feel of the steel pressed against her exposed throat. North stared back, shocked and confused before he rolled off the girl with an annoyed snort. Though her name escaped him at the moment, North recognized the girl; she was a new settler to their village, arriving with her mother and hoard of little sisters hardly a month before. North kept a close eye on her as she sat up and smoothed down her hair – though there wasn't much point as her dark hair was naturally messy in a bird-feather like fashion – unable to think of a reason for the girl to have followed them.
"North!" Aster called, rushing over at the sound of the commotion, Sandy right on his heels. They both came to a dead stop at the sight of the newcomer.
"Who's that?" Aster asked after a moment.
"Intruder. She is following us," North responded, still staring pointedly at the girl as she straightened herself out.
"Why?" the younger man question now sporting a similar look of suspicion as his elder.
"I can help you," she answered simply and confidently despite the small tremor in her voice.
"You will do no such thing. You are going straight back to village."
"I can't."
"You will," North argued back.
"I can't. I made a promise and I can't go back unless I keep it."
"What promise?" Aster cut in before North could rebuff her again. The suspicion in his eyes melted into something softer and North held back a sigh.
Violet eyes turned to focus on Aster. They sized the young, muscular man up, before they filled with tears. She brought a fist up to her trembling lips and tried to collect herself before meeting his eyes.
"They killed them," she managed with a sob. "Those men killed my family. My mother, my baby sisters; slaughtered them right in front of me. Just a group of babies, and they butchered them. Now it's just me and my last sister, we're all that's left now.
"And I promised her, I promised that I would make them pay for what they did. I am not going back to tell her that I failed."
"What is your sister's name?" North interjected, seeing as Aster was very clearly moved to her side and therefore wouldn't be the one to ask.
"What?"
"Her name, the name of the girl who is all you have."
The girl's lips thinned, insulted at the tone that clearly said he didn't believe her. Her still teary eyes flashed and burned a hole into North's.
"Taneisha. Her name is Taneisha. She's seven years old," she said defiantly.
"Then you should be with her."
"North, she's all alone. We can't send her back by herself," Aster objected, and North groaned at the obvious puppy face the younger man sent him before his dreamy stare wandered back to the girl. No, no, no, he could not deal with this. Not only was Aster taking her side, he was infatuated with the girl. Why, why him; he didn't have enough in him to put up with puppy love on top of everything else.
"I can help you. I know what you're dealing with," she hastily added when North made to contradict her again.
The bearded man froze, mouth partially open in protest. He closed his gaping mouth slowly, letting out a sigh. He sat by the fire motioning for the girl to do the same.
"What do you know?"
"Let me stay," she countered.
"Tell me, then we discuss that."
The girl sighed but nodded, sizing the man up with calculating eyes North could admire. The girl had the makings of a fine hunter, something he would keep to himself until the appropriate time, of course—namely after he had his family back. She nodded once more, settling on her heels in front of him and holding his gaze to affirm her truthfulness as she plunged forward.
-Line Break – Line Break –Line Break-
After four days of marching, the villagers were exhausted and scared beyond belief. Staying strong despite the terror, but tired. After six days, the flame of resistance was dwindling within the group of captives. By day eight, everyone was too worn down to even think of fighting or being strong.
Jack's shoulder still throbbed and burned painfully and for a time he was worried that despite the precautions the wound had still gotten infected. Luckily, after further inspection that didn't seem to be the case, but no matter the proof, Jack was worried. So was his mother and Emma, even though she was just mirroring the tension from Katherine and Jack. Children were intuitive, after all, and even if she didn't understand what had her family so afraid, it still made her uneasy.
But there was nothing to be done. By the time they'd arrived at their final destination on the eighth day, no one could spare any of their raw, grated emotions care, Jack and his family included. And their final destination seemed to be—another camp. Yes, it was a significantly bigger camp than those of their previous stops, this one with some semi-permanent buildings, but it was a camp nonetheless. In fact, had it not been for the captain's very clear announcement of their arrival, Jack wouldn't have known this was their final stop. Or cared, really. But despite its unimpressive look, it seemed this camp was, in fact, where their captors were taking them all along.
"Company, halt!" The captain shouted from up front, seeming to think that he was hilarious, if the laugh in his tone was anything to go by.
The line of villagers came to a stuttered stop, many of them all but collapsing in their exhaustion. While the people lay slumped, the swarm of cloaked men moved from the edges of the camp and cut them loose. Then the newly freed villagers were herded into smaller groups before they could even think to run. Not that they would have had the energy to do so anyway. Marching for days on end was certainly a good way to crush down aby fight, Jack had to admit, if a bit grimly, as he and the others of his smaller group were ushered at sword point, then forced onto their knees.
"Alright everyone: shoes off!" Another order from the captain, this one barked as the man circled Jack's group. Apparently the man just refused to leave Jack alone, which was very aggravating.
The command drew a number of confused looks, but the group did as they were told, slowly removing their various foot coverings. Jack eyed the captain while he removed his own shoes, supporting his sister as the little girl snuggled against him. Why were they taking off their shoes? Did these guys have a shoe fetish? Heh, maybe that was why they kidnapped the villagers, Jack thought with a grin.
Although, as they were forced to their feet and marched into the camp, Jack realized there was a much more practical reason. The ground was covered in barbs, broken glass and all manner of other sharp objects in a circled perimeter around the camp. Escaping with bare feet would be painful if not completely impossible. Well played, he had to admit.
Once their feet were exposed, they were marched, bare feet and all, through scorching sand and into the camp, some marched over the booby-trapped ground just to make sure the point sunk in. Then they were separated into yet another set of different groups. A number of strangers, obviously held much longer than the villagers from their battered appearances, were forced from the shabby buildings and automatically fell into lines. The new captives were forced to do the same.
Men and women pushed into isolated groups, children into another, oldest to youngest.
Despite Jack's protests, he was yanked kicking and screaming from his sister and forced to the front of the 'children' line up. Emma reached for him as she was dragged further down the line, tears streaming down her little face as she cried for her brother. And then she was out of sight. The only thing that kept him from running to his sobbing sister – he could hear her tears from further down the line – was the sword leveled at his throat. As it was, all he could do was stand there, and wait for whatever the men had in store for them next.
"Well then, welcome to headquarters," the captain announced, arms spread wide to gesture to the camp as he addressed the lines. "I realize that you must be confused and afraid; and that's not likely to change any time soon," he added with a laugh. Jack had the feeling the captain found himself utterly hilarious, and loved to hear himself talk.
"Now, let me explain why you're here, as I'm sure you're all wondering. Lot of answers to that, really. Practicality. Entertainment. Slave labor, I'm really fond of that one. But the short answer? You're here for anything we want."
Yeah, that did nothing to soothe the raging terror in the group. The implication destroyed any semblance of composure they had left, really.
He heard a woman break into sobbing tears somewhere further up the line. And for some reason, that terrified him more than the sword pressed to his throat. After all, nothing says you're royally screwed more than the adults weeping like the children.
A loud smack that cut off the woman's crying and the captain was talking again. However, Jack couldn't focus on what he was saying, even though he probably wouldn't have listened regardless. No, he couldn't think past the cold terror that took a sudden grip on his heart. It was more than just the fear from the new level of hopeless from the woman's break-down, he realized after a moment. It was different, cold and all consuming, leaving him unable to move.
He didn't know the exact cause, but something set fear into his heart more than seeing the men ready to invade his home, more than being taken by said men, more than seeing adults break into tears like babies. And he couldn't look around for the source – and he could feel the presence digging into his back, watching him—as there was a sword at his vulnerable throat. His skin crawled but unable to find the presence, Jack shoved the feeling aside. There were more pressing issues to deal with at the moment. Like the cloaked men making their way down the line.
There was only a handful of them, the captain among them, all slowly walking along the line of men and women. And, much to Jack's confusion, they each selected one of the trembling villager and dragged them off to the side. Jack's brow furrowed as he watched them. Now what did these crazy men want? His confusion melted into pure horror as one of their cloaked captors came to a stop in the children line. In front of him, to be specific.
The man— one of the few without a hood shrouding his face but still just as tall, dark and creepy as the rest of them – looked Jack up and down appraisingly. His eyes glinted as a sharp smile crawled over his face, excited and perverse and the look made Jack's skin crawl and he gave a shudder of disgust and unease. The sword at his throat pressed harder against his throat in response and Jack tensed with a tiny gasp. The kidnapper holding him tightened his grip with a growl, one that didn't even sound like it should come from anything close to human and sent a jeer to the other man as he pressed the blade so hard to Jack's skin that he could feel the sharp edge prick the skin of his neck. He winced and closed his eyes tight prepared to feel his life blood spill from him as his skin was ripped apart at the jugular, but luckily the blade only gave another threatening press that just teetered on breaking the skin before retreating completely. The man holding him let go and Jack barely let out a relieved breath when he heard a barked laugh that had him tensing up again.
"Now, now; there's no need to tease, Everett," he joked with a leer over Jack's head. Then that leer was turned on him and Jack quailed under it. "You're supposed to leave that to me," he added, dragging a finger from Jack's chin to the hollow of his throat. Jack shuddered and flinched away, but the man only grabbed his shoulder in a bruising force and went to drag him forward.
The captain brought him to a halt before he took more than a step away, his own hand firm on the man's shoulder.
"No. That one's on reserve," he said simply.
Jack's stomach gave a flip at the wording. 'On reserve'. Like he was some kind of trading card. A toy.
The man's brow furrowed as he looked as his captain, first in confusion and then in anger. His grip on Jack's shoulder tightened to the point that Jack was sure his fingers were going to break skin and he pulled the teenager almost flush to his chest, making a kind of growl low in his throat. The captain responded with a similar sound and Jack was reminded eerily of wolves prepping to fight over prey. His stomach clenched and did another little dance.
"But I want him," the man whined, breaking eye contact. "He's so…" He took a deep breath threw his nose, running his tongue over his teeth, teeth that suddenly looked much too sharp, as he looked Jack over once again.
"That's the point. You know why we save those ones."
The man gave another growl but he shoved Jack away, stalking father down the line and snagging another kid –another boy, about eleven – and standing to the side with the others. The captain smiled down at Jack and giving his hair an affectionate ruffle. Jack was too shaken and cold inside to push the hand away.
"Alright everyone, we'll be taking you to your sleeping quarters now. You will be separated be age and gender. You will go without fight. Anyone who shows the slightest hint of resistance will be cut down, without exception." That last part was directed at Jack; he could tell by the stern stare the captain sent him when he paused. Jack tried to meet the stare with an icy one of his own, but he doubted it was all that effective.
And, other than twist and try to locate his sister, Jack didn't fight as he was herded away. The groups were once again divided to just a handful of people in each tiny faction. He ended holed up in a shack that served as their 'quarters' with a group of ten boys, all younger than him. He lay curled up on his tiny bed forming the tightest ball his body would allow as he tried to block out the weeping of the other boys and the how sick he felt inside.
-Line Break – Line Break – Line Break-
Being lined up in such away became the norm over the next couple of days. Every day at dawn they were jerked out of their beds. Then, any male over twelve was separated from the main group and forced to a horse drawn wagon, over the perimeter of shards and barbs and into a vast, empty field. There they labored until dusk, digging and hacking endlessly into the soil for no apparent reason; not far agriculture or architecture. Nothing other than to wear them down.
Jack didn't know what happened to the women and girls during that time.
Once the sun began to sink below the horizon, the men were herded back to the wagons and rolled back to the camp. Then they were once again forced into the lines; men and women, girls and boys, oldest to youngest. And the men, always the same ones, would wander down the line and drag a villager or older captive – the few that remained— and stand to the side. Women were grabbed for the most part, the occasional man, and once in a heart wrenching while, a child would be selected. None of them were ever seen again, and the men picked a new captive every night.
It was on night three of their stay at the camp that Jack felt something change. Something in the air and in the routine of the day. The line of men only stood to the side instead of making their way down the lines, hands clasped in front of them respectfully. Jack eyed the suspiciously out of the corner of his eye, but kept his head down. He'd taken to doing that lately: keeping his head down. Avoiding the jeering gazes of his captors, not causing trouble or pushing limits as he normally would, not fighting. Staying docile. Controlled.
It grated at his pride, but he was just so tired—it was getting harder to fight them. Looking back at it, he supposed that was what they were waiting for. They must have been waiting for his will to fight to crack. That must have been why things changed.
Whispering broke out down the line and the older 'residents', as the men called them, fell to their knees. After a moment's hesitation, many of the villages followed suit, having learned the best way for survival by following the oldest survivors, so they did so without question. Only a handful remained on their feet, Jack included. And as such, he could see the cause of the stir.
It was a carriage, a gilded one, like the ones of ancient royalty Jack had read about in his story books his father prided himself on bringing him. It was obviously quite valuable and therefore whoever behind it quite important. It was made of dark material, wood or stone, Jack couldn't tell, and embroiled by high valued dark jewels. Draped over the top and down the sides a long, dark veil. Dark, dark, dark: everything about it was dark. Just like everything else in this horrid place. And behind the veiled opening, Jack could see a thin shadow, holding itself rigid and regal.
The captain strolled over, throwing Jack a blank, chilling look as he leaned in to whisper to the shadow. Jack had only a moment to think that maybe he should have just sunk to the ground like everyone else – even if it would have made him sick – when whatever conversation between the captain and the shadow figure was done and the captain straightened. And sent a cruel, triumphant look to Jack. The teenager's heart froze in his chest, but before he could fight, or run, both his arms were seized and he was dragged, kicking and screaming, away from the others.
"NO!" was all he could think to say, or do. He struggled. He flailed about. He clawed and bit at the men restraining him, but it did no good. Just like the night he was captured with his village, there was nothing Jack could do against these men but scream and hopelessly fight, yelling a mantra of 'no!' all the way. He vaguely heard his mother and sister call for him over his own hysteria, but he couldn't see them and they had no hope of reaching him.
The men dragged him down the camp, to the center building. Then he was dragged to a large room and promptly tossed in and locked inside. He landed in a heap of limbs and spared half a second for panicked hyperventilation on the floor before bolting to the door. There he spent quite a bit more time in a panic, pounding on the door. He slammed his meager body weight at the frame in attempts to break it down, clumsily fiddle with the lock and just desperately clawed at it in frantic attempts to get out before he finally managed to gather himself. Jack took a shaky breath, chided himself for stupidity, and rested his forehead against the wood of the doo as he forced himself calm. Only when his breath was steady did he glance around the room. And the sight almost sent him back into a panic.
He was in a bedroom. A huge black satin bed was one of the few features in the room, along with a vanity and handful of old, expensive decorations. And the damn thing took up half the room! Shock followed on the heels of panic and instantly, both were snuffed out by anger.
Was this what they were trying to 'reserve' him for? His 'higher purpose'? Oh. Hell. No. Jack may not have known what happened to the captives who were never seen again, but he could give a some-what educated guess. He'd heard what these kind of men – pirates and the likes – were known to do with their captives. Generally their female captives, but he also knew that kind of thing wasn't always based on sexual attraction. It could happen to men to, he knew. But, damn it, that was not. Going. To Happen. To Him. Not if he had anything to say about it.
Resolve set, Jack tore through the room. A weapon, he needed a weapon. He tried at the decorations hanging on the wall first as a number of them were antique swords and daggers, but they were all too heavy and well mounted for him to lift. So he tore the bed apart, because anyone this evil had to sleep with a knife under his pillow, right? And when that yielded no such luck, he went to the vanity, desperate to find any means to defend himself before the shadow figure came for him. Finally, to his great relief, he found one. A small jeweled dagger, a letter opener, really. Not much, but it would work.
Jack tested the weight of the dagger in his hand and faced the door, tensed and ready for a fight. Whoever Mister Shadow Form was, he was going to lose his fucking dick if he so much as came near Jack. The grim though had only just formed and the idea to conceal himself following it when a deep, throaty chuckle had the teenager whipping around to face the shadows in the back of the room.
"Well now, there is something about you that deserves interest, it seems. And I was beginning to think you were just going to be another utter bore after that little scene. That would have been such a disappointment after how Onyx boasted over finding you. I do enjoy being wrong, every once in a while."
The voice came from somewhere in the shadows, but Jack couldn't find a face to go with it. Jack didn't like that voice.
Jack identified the drawl as British easily, many of the people in his village migrated from that area. But the voice didn't have the pleasant intonation of his fellow villagers. It was slimy, dark, dangerous. It scared him. Determined to hide that fact, Jack made a show of his dagger as he faced the shadows.
"Where are you?" he demanded, getting only another chuckle in return.
"Feisty. I think this will truly prove to be a treat."
Jack caught movement out of the corner of his eye just by the enormous bed. He turned just in time to see a man emerge from the shadows!
Tall, Jack noted numbly, his mind still trying to wrap around that emerge from the shadows bit. Jack observed the man, backing away as his mind cleared. Not only was he tall, the man was dark, not that should have been much of a shock by that point. And there was his snark, good sign to have that back. Jack snapped out of his self-congratulation when his eyes wandered to meet the man's, a good two feet above his own line of sight.
Those eyes were an otherworldly, sickly yellow with flecks of silver, staring out at him from a grey face. Grey! Who had grey skin? He'd never seen anything like it, or those eyes. They held his gaze, seeming liked they glowed, boring intensely into his soul. Bringing a cold terror unlike anything he'd felt…. Once! Once before, the day he was brought here. This man had been watching him!
Any anger Jack would have felt over that was lost in the glow holding his focus. He was frozen by it. Then the man chuckled and broke eye contact, and Jack came back to himself. He brought the knife back up as the man circled him, coming closer with each pass.
"Stay back!" He warned, trying to sound intimidating. It came off as more of a frightened whisper.
"No need to be so afraid."
"I'm not afraid."
"You are," He countered, still circling him. "Afraid of what I want you for. Afraid of why I have you in my room."
Jack flinched at that and back away. The man leered in response.
"But fear not. I have no interest in your body."
"Excuse me if I don't believe you," Jack snarled, taking a swipe at the circling man who just danced out of his way with a laugh.
"Such spirit!" The dark man crowed, staying just out of range of Jack's knife as the boy continuously slashed at him. "I like that," he added, really contradicting the 'not-interested-in-you-like-that' statement.
Jack snarled and dashed forward, intent on driving his dagger into the man's stomach. All he got for his effort was to have his wrist was seized in a tight grip that almost broke the bone. Then he was pulled flush to the man's chilled body, the man's other hand clamping down on Jack's shoulder. He yelled and flailed, realizing his mistake too late. But his wrist was trapped in an iron grip and he was totally defenseless, oh god this was not happening!
"It adds an extra spice to the flavor," the man finally finished.
Jack stopped his struggling when he noticed the man was still talking, and looked up to try and riddle out that last comment. He was once again trapped in that glowing gaze and the man smiled. And his teeth! No, those weren't teeth. Those were fangs. Sharp, long fangs where his canines should have been, and they only seemed to get longer and sharper the wider the man's smile grew.
Realization sunk into his stomach and Jack screamed. The man darted forward, cutting off the boy's high pitched shriek of terror as he clamped his jaw around Jack's neck and sank his teeth – fangs! – into the skin of his throat.
-Line Break – Line Break – Line Break –
The four sat silently around the fire, letting the information hang heavily in the air. Ahead of them, Jack was huddled with his mother and sister as they listened to the screams of yet another family that they would never see again come morning and as they awaited the next day's march to where the nightmares really began. The men blinked dumbly at the girl who stared back steadily.
"Eh… pardon?" North finally heard himself asking.
"You know, bloodsuckers? The undead? They who walk the night?"
"Yes, we know what vampires are!" Aster snapped. "It's just, they're supposed ta be myths," he added in a gentler voice. The girl let out a snorted laugh and shook her head.
"You guys have fought all manner of nasty monsters since you settled in your village, and this you have a hard time believing?" She asked incredulously.
"How do you know of them?" North questioned, still trying to wrap his mind around the information.
"There are, special hunters who deal with vampires. My father was one," she admitted after a moment.
"And where is he?"
"Dead," she replied with no hesitation, though it clearly saddened her. And how could it not, when she'd lost so much to there monsters, "He went to destroy a nest, and he never came back."
"Nest?" Aster questioned after a moment of silence.
"This nest, to be specific," she continued, either missing the real point to Aster's question or ignoring it. "I recognized them."
"How?" North pressed.
"They tried this with my village, too. It's a pattern of this nest – they target villages with vampire specialized hunters. They'll lure hunters away on some kind of goose chase, leaving the families vulnerable." North flinched at that, remembering the report of a monster that they spent three days looking for and could never find. "After that," she went on, "they round up those who remain in the village. It's the best way to break down a strong hunting group. The old, 'hit-'em-where-it-hurts-most' ploy.
"Luckily, our village was comprised almost entirely of hunters; we were able to fight them off long enough for my father to return with the other men."
"What do they do ta the ones that're taken?" Aster asked, uneasy of the answer.
"They're vampires; take a guess."
Aster let out as small curse, hiding his face in his hands for a moment. North felt like doing the same – hiding seemed such a good option in light of all this – but he kept his gaze on the girl. She met the stare steadily. He studied her. She studied him right back before nodding, seeming to come to a well though decision.
"I'm going to help you," she declared.
The three men gave a start, and shared a look. Sandy cocked an eyebrow and stared, perfectly conveying the question on all of their minds. Say whaaa?
The girl shrugged, still confident in her verdict.
"I'm the only one who really knows what you're up against. Unless you want to die, or act like dogs chasing your tails for the next couple of days while the nest gets even farther ahead with your family, you'll let me come with you. If you think I'm risking suck perfect, snow touched incisors, you've got another thing coming!" She added in a rush when North opened his mouth to speak. All traces of the cold-headed woman were gone and in her place was and over-excited, gushing child. The whiplash left North blinking in confusion as he tried to decipher that last bit.
"Huh?" was all he could say as a genius response.
The girl blushed and smiled shyly, obviously embarrassed by her outburst. "Your son has beautiful teeth," she muttered in explanation, doing nothing to relieve North's confusion.
"Ya realize we're ta save all of Jackie, not just 'is teeth, yeah?" Aster pointed out tersely, although the girl's clear interest in Jack, even if it was only his teeth, clearly irked the man.
Oh, heaven above give him the strength to deal with this! North sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as the girl babbled assurances to Aster, gushing that she understood perfectly well the seriousness of the situation and of course Jack needed to be intact to keep his perfect teeth safe! Give him lots of strength, he added with an upward glance before he focused back on the girl.
"What is your name?" He asked, drawing the girl's attention from Aster, who looked like he was getting quite the headache.
"Tooth," she replied quickly. "Well, Toothiana," she amended at North's raise brow, "but everyone calls me Tooth because, well,"
"Of the obsession?" Aster offered.
"They really are beautiful."
"Tooth," North acknowledged, stopping another bot of babbling about teeth. "We are, in fact in uncharted territory with this hunt. With all that is on the line, we cannot afford to go forth without a guide. And so, for the sake of my family and our fellow villagers, you're expertise is welcome. You're in," he declared.
Tooth grinned, almost feral, and North really hoped he was doing the right thing. It was his family's, and his village's, only hope.
Okay, so who saw the vampires coming? ;) And be honest, I want to know how well I hinted at it earlier.
Sorry for the delay, college started up and my muse decided to leave me. But here ya go, and it's extra-long. And the gangs all together, isn't that great?! Let me know what you thought.