Musical Vampire Mysteries of Rory Flanagan

by jlbassmaster

Rory Flanagan is a teen with the ability to read people's memories, and Sam Evans is a vampire that takes a special interest in him. Join them and their friends as they face romance, violence, death, magic, and lots of blood! Heavily inspired by the mythos of True Blood. Rated M for violence and sexuality.

11. S1, E11: War - Part 1

THE MUSICAL VAMPIRE MYSTERIES OF RORY FLANAGAN

Author's Notes: It's June 10th as I work on this revision and I am just insanely excited! Sunday is the new season of True Blood and the release of this story! Of course by the time you are actually reading these notes it will be like mid-September and True Blood will have ended. :p

Beta Credit: TVTime

Season 1, Episode 11: War, Part 1

"Is this everything?" Blaine asked, looking in the back of the large black van parked in Sam's driveway. Inside were several different types of weapons, protective armor, and various other 'adventure gear.' The driver of the van looked bored, playing a game on his cell phone and yawning.

"Yes. This is everything. What about you? Do you have everything you need to work spells and magic? I don't really know a lot about that stuff to be honest," Sam replied, staring into Blaine's eyes. While Mercedes and Kurt and even Mike usually refused to look the vampire directly in the eyes, neither Blaine nor Tina showed any signs of fear.

"Pretty much, yes. Most of it can be done with incantations, mental projection, that sort of thing. As far as actual items I may need, I have a limited supply but can manage just fine."

Sam admired the teen's willingness to help his friend. Out of everyone he had met through Rory, Blaine was the one he trusted most. Blaine was calm, rational, and insightful. His mind was open and judgment just wasn't there. He liked Tina, but shifters had an unspoken alliance with one another and if it came down to it, he feared that Tina would side with Mike if necessary. Blaine on the other hand seemed fully capable of making decisions that may not agree with Kurt, but would hold to his convictions.

"Sebastian and Santana are meeting us at the airport. They'll have the coffins, and the rest of the equipment. Maybe some more muscle if we're lucky," Sam said. He gave Blaine a pained smile, wanting desperately to show his appreciation despite how he felt at the moment.

Kurt and Mercedes were discussing something as they sat in a second black van, Mike and Tina standing in the open vehicle door, speaking only through their eyes. As Sam regarded them, he decided it might be best for 'team morale' to make some sort of speech. Blaine followed him over to the van, crawling inside to squeeze between his boyfriend and Mercedes.

Sam stood before them, Kurt, Blaine, and Mercedes all shifting in their seats to give him their attention, Mike and Tina already paying consideration to him. "I just wanted to formally thank you all. I know you aren't doing this for me; you're doing it for Rory, but thank you. You're risking your lives for your friend, and it's something that isn't often seen in my world. For vampires it's generally every man or woman for themselves. Even after only a hundred and fifty-three years I forget how different it is for humans. Rory is lucky to have each and every one of you on his side," Sam announced, swallowing back his emotions.

"Don't forget it. We're in this for him. Not for you, ever," Kurt stated flatly. Blaine gave him a reproachful glare, silencing the boy. Sam merely hung his head, hurt by the teen's harsh words. If only Rory's friends would see that he had the best of intentions.

"We better get a move on," Sam said, eager to get away for just a few minutes. The stern and angry stares from Kurt and hard expression from Mercedes were like knives scraping his flesh. Even Mike had a disapproving look on his face.

Everyone except Sam finished piling into the second van, pulling the door closed. Sam took the passenger side of the first van, staring out of the window while the driver prepared to leave.

-ooo-

Sebastian leaned up against his Bentley, Santana standing beside him, filing her nails in the typical 'annoyed and bored female sidekick' stance. She didn't even look up when the other two vehicles pulled into the bright white hangar.

Sam stepped out of one of the black vans and immediately approached Sebastian. "Everything ready?" he asked.

The sheriff smirked. "No hello? No 'how are you tonight Sebastian?' or even a 'thank you, Sebastian?'" Normally Sam would have scoffed and sarcastically come back with something, but this time he truly was in the man's debt.

"Sorry. Thank you, Sebastian. Santana. Both of you," the blonde replied dejectedly. "My crew is ready if yours is."

"Of course my team is ready. Everything is already on the plane, including coffins and nutrition for your humans," the sheriff said proudly. "Speaking of, where are they?"

As if on cue, the rest of the group emerged from their vehicle. Sebastian glanced across the entire group, a sly smile on his face. "Let's see, three humans, two shifters, and a vampire. What a motley crew."

Santana chuckled, standing up straight and then heading toward the stairwell leading inside the aircraft.

"After you, friends," Sebastian said, motioning to the humans and shifters. His sarcastic emphasis on the word 'friends' was unsettling, even to Blaine and Tina. The only thing keeping any of them from bailing was the fact that it would lessen Rory's chances for survival the fewer people they had.

Kurt reluctantly followed Blaine up the steps, never letting go of his hand as they disappeared inside. Mercedes refused to even look in Sebastian's direction, and the two shifters merely gave him courteous nods as they boarded. Finally, Sam marched up inside, followed by Sebastian. The ladder was rolled back and the door to the airplane was closed, sealing them all inside a rather ornate aircraft.

"Make yourselves at home. We'll leave as soon as the cargo hold is loaded with your additional items. Once we're in the air, feel free to partake of our food and drinks. Human food and drinks, of course," Sebastian announced to his guests. "The trip should take close to nine hours depending on the winds, so I encourage you all to use the time to rest. We have-"

"Yes, we know, a huge battle ahead of us, blah blah blah," Kurt barked.

Sebastian cocked his head and looked at the human, his face blank. "Hmm. How rude. As I was saying, we have a very tedious altercation ahead of us. Be prepared." With that, he strolled to the back of the cabin and joined Santana on a love seat, the still-annoyed vampiress filing down her nails for theatric effect.

Sam sat alone in an oversized chair, his features reflecting only worry and fear. The next several hours were going to be painfully slow. He closed his eyes and leaned his elbows on his knees, head in hands. He wished Marley were still around. Granted, if Marley were there, however, he most likely would not be in this situation at all. In fact he would never even have met Rory let alone fallen for him, which was far from what he wanted. If only Marley could somehow be there with him, now, when he needed someone's support, it would have helped immensely. The hallucination, or vision, or whatever it had been, in which Marley had appeared to him had given him a sense of peace regarding his relationship at least. What he could really use was her tender touch on his cool flesh to hold his hand and tell him everything would be all right, and that Rory would soon be back in his arms.

-ooo-

Ryder glared at Kitty as she stood over him, gloating in her victory. His body was exhausted and his mind was shredded from the succubus' mental spells. After being forced to ravage the teen on his bed, Kitty had forced Ryder to pleasure her for many more hours, or so it seemed. Kitty knew how long, of course, but not Ryder. To him, it had seemed like an eternity of agony while to her it was finally what she had been craving ever since they met.

"You're so weak, Ryder. A pathetic incubus if I ever saw one. You had to have help from a succubus to get what you wanted because you couldn't do it yourself," the woman cackled. "I bet you couldn't even have kept your dick hard if it wasn't for my magic. As it is, even I will be sore for a while. Every squeeze of my thighs will bring forth the magnificent memories of this evening," she added casually, examining her fingernails as if she had no cares in the world.

"Get. Out," Ryder hissed between clenched teeth. It was all he could do not to leap up and attack the woman, but he knew full well that in her enhanced state, and his weakened body, she would break him in half without even batting an eyelash.

"It's been a pleasure, boys, but I have things to attend to now," Kitty said, then smirked and turned on her heel, her hair and dress flowing behind her as she sauntered out of the room. Nobody would be able to tell she had just participated in an almost violent round of lustful sex; her appearance was just as flawless as when she first entered the room. Ryder mustered enough energy to get up and slam the door behind her, cursing in several languages mixed together.

Ryder crawled into the bed with his young friend, well aware of what had happened. Kitty had used her ability on him to control him, and he had brutally raped the boy he had quickly fallen in love with. From what his mind could recall, he had raped the boy not once but three times. He took him until the teen passed out from fear and pain. It didn't help Ryder's guilt knowing that not only had he done that, but he had also allowed Kitty to cut the boy and steal some of his blood, which had given her the power to control the incubus in the first place.

The man lay next to Rory, pulling him into his arms. He hoped the boy wouldn't wake up just yet because he knew Rory would be furious, hurt, scared. He would reject Ryder with hatred and disgust. That was an event Ryder knew was coming but wanted so badly to put off. Right then he merely wanted to comfort the boy, hold him and keep him safe. Bang up job you've done of that so far, Ryder. Great fucking job. I'm supposed to be watching over him, keeping him away from harm until that banshee cunt needs him, and instead I let myself be overpowered by that cackling bitch on a power high. Now look what I've done…

Ryder rocked back and forth with Rory in his arms, a grown incubus sobbing uncontrollably for a human, repeating like a mantra, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. Forgive me, I'm sorry." Kitty had been right; as an incubus he was indeed pathetic. It was not in the nature of his kind to fall in love. Incubi and succubi existed for one purpose, and that was for sexual pleasure and thrill. Rape from an incubus or succubus nearly always resulted in a very unpleasant end, not necessarily in death, but with a dramatically weakened body that could easily be classified as catatonic. Over the decades, Ryder had seduced and even raped many humans, male and female. Only once had he felt the way he felt for Rory. He felt remorse at times, pity even, for his victims, but his nature always won out, except with Rory and… a boy that Ryder refused to think about at the moment. Kitty was right. He was a failure as an incubus, and she would never let him forget it.

Hours later, when Rory finally regained consciousness, he quickly wished to pass out again. He felt agonizing pain in his rear, his entire ass on fire in a way he had never before experienced. His insides felt pummeled and his head was swimming. He was weak; he could feel it all over. He felt a sharp, stabbing pain in his inner thigh, and he remembered that had been done by a blade, by Kitty. The rest was hazy, but he did recall being roughly undressed, mounted, and penetrated by an oversized erection. He recalled begging for the man inside of him to stop, screaming in pain and agony, but it all fell on deaf ears. He remembered the final merciless thrusts inside of him and the warmth that spread as he was filled with seed. He knew he had passed out at that point, and was scared to even wonder what had happened after. Judging by the still-excessive pain in his butt, he was willing to assume at least one more rigorous sexual session, but he wouldn't be sure until Ryder woke up.

Ryder. Why is Ryder holding me? It was him. It was him who did this to me. I trusted him, and he… he did this to me. He said we were friends, and he would protect me. He lied. He lied and he raped me, without any compassion or mercy. He meant to hurt me. He meant it to be painful for me. But if that's the case, why is he holding me? Rapists don't hold their victims. I wonder if he … maybe he feels bad. Oh well, feels bad or not, I can't forgive him for this. The look he had seen in Ryder's eyes reappeared in his mind between torrents of thoughts. The dark, lustful eyes that were filled with barbaric sexual desire. He began to shudder and tears began to flow. How can I ever look at him the same? Kitty was doing something to him, but could she make him do that? I thought incubi were supposed to be powerful, like Kitty is, but he's just as weak as a human if she can control him that way. Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck! Fuck all of this! I want to go home! I want to go back to Sam's now!

"Rory…" Ryder croaked as he rejoined the boy in wakefulness. The teen shoved him off angrily, his rage suddenly taking over. Ryder could feel the stinging sensation where Rory had shoved him. The teen had already begun to charge up his power, to attack or defend, either way Rory was aggressive and ready to take care of his so called friend.

"Get away from me!" Rory shouted, leaping off the bed. He wasn't fazed by his own nudity; his anger was too strong to worry about such things as clothes. Instead he stared down at the incubus, still on one side of the bed.

"Please, let me explain! I'm sorry; you will never know how sorry I am, but let me explain!" Ryder pleaded, getting out of bed and putting his hands before himself in surrender. "I swear, you don't know what her power was like! I had no control over myself!"

Rory climbed out of bed, standing in front of Ryder, both of them nude except for streaks of blood around Ryder's groin and Rory's backside. He approached Ryder, locking eyes with him, a look of pure rage and hatred boring into the incubus.

"Answer this question, and I advise ye' to answer carefully," Rory growled. "Did. Ye'. Rape. Me?" He knew the answer but he wanted to hear the incubus say the words.

Ryder hung his head, sniffling as tears began to flow down his cheeks. He fell to his knees in front of the teen, reaching for the boy's hands and grasping them. "Please… I had no choice, I-"

Rory yanked his hands out of Ryder's grip and placed them on the man's shoulders. The heat quickly rose as he sent a surge of power through his hands, the flash bright and fast. Ryder instantly sailed backward, crashing forcefully into the wardrobe. He fell forward on his hands and knees, his back scratched up from broken wood planks of the wooden closet.

Before the man had time to recover, Rory was upon him, crouching down and gripping the man's neck. His hand was still warm, his grasp stronger than Ryder would have expected from a human. He let himself be guided onto his feet as Rory's eyes continued to dig into his own. "How dare ye'? I trusted ye', and ye' took advantage of me. I promised to break ye' out o' here with me, and this is how ye' treat me? What's wrong with ye'? What warped sense of justice and humanity do ye' 'ave? I thought ye' were supposed to be powerful too! Did ye' not want to resist? Did ye' want to go through with it?"

Ryder clawed at his throat, prying the teen's fingers away. He coughed several times, trying to catch his breath and reorient himself. "Listen to me!" Ryder bellowed, no longer in a state of submission. "I told you, I had no choice! When Kitty drank your blood, it magnified her powers on a grand scale, and she was able to work her succubi magic no matter how hard I tried to resist!" Now it was his eyes that were boring into Rory's. He put his hands around the boy's biceps and squeezed. "Now look at me. Know I am not lying to you. Think about it. I've been nice to you since you got here. I don't have to be, I choose to be. I went against my incubi nature and refused to seduce you. Do you think that was easy? Do you think I had to do that? Did you know that Rachel gave me permission to fuck you anytime I wanted, but I declined? Now stop assaulting me and realize I'm speaking the truth!"

Rory was taken aback by the sudden change in Ryder's demeanor. He was taller than Ryder, but the man was stronger and still intimidating. Ryder's words began to resonate in his head. Leprechaun blood was indeed supposed to be a power enhancer, as even Rachel herself explained. He could only assume it worked on Kitty, and if Ryder was telling the truth, then maybe he really couldn't stop himself.

Think, Rory, think! He's crying. He's got a good point. He doesn't have to be nice, but he is. Does that make it easier for him to be controlled? She was being pretty cruel, taunting him and stuff. I don't really know anything about all of this. Incubus, succubus, banshee. What are these things anyway? Something tells me that whatever they are, it isn't natural for an incubus to be crying, and he is. Rory closed his eyes and forced himself to calm down. He knew just how to find out the truth, the question was whether or not it would actually work on an incubus.

Utilizing the skin-to-skin contact of Ryder's grip, Rory was able to draw out the images in the man's head from the night before. It took a lot more concentration and effort than when he read a human; it was an act he had to force to occur even though they had made skin contact many times before. He pulled out the image of Ryder comforting him, holding onto him while Kitty cut him. The image of Ryder's argument with Kitty was very clear, but the memories of the actual rape were fuzzy. Rory assumed it had to be because of the succubus' influence, that somehow it warped memories and emotions, but he saw what he needed to. He saw Ryder refusing, and he saw Kitty work her spell. He saw it all through Ryder's eyes and it was then that he was able to begin to absolve the man of his guilt.

As the realizations hit, Rory's eyes began to water. It was easier to blame Ryder for the transgression, but knowing of his innocence complicated things. He still felt hurt and betrayed even though he knew Ryder had been under a spell. It would be difficult to forgive the man, and even more difficult to forget the incident. He may have been disoriented, but the rape itself was agonizingly vivid.

Ryder released Rory's arms and pulled him in for a tight hug as the pair of them sobbed. "I'm sorry, Rory. I'm so, so sorry. I would give up my life to take it back. Anything to take it back."

Rory said nothing as they both continued to cry in frustration, anger, fear, confusion. After several minutes they parted, the teen sitting on the side of the bed with a strong grimace. The look on the boy's face sent sharp pains through Ryder's body as all could think about was how badly his manhood had torn the boy up inside.

"Will you let me tend to you?" Ryder asked quietly. "You're hurt. I can speed the healing, and reduce the pain. I can't make your mind heal but please, let me try to make it right with your physical pain."

The leprechaun nodded, suddenly feeling very embarrassed about being nude with a bloody backside in front of this man.

"We should wash off first, to rid ourselves of the blood. I will shower with you, but only to make sure I get you clean. I won't hurt you, I promise," Ryder assured him. Rory didn't reply but instead followed the man into the bathroom. Ryder adjusted the hot water to a reasonable temperature and allowed Rory to enter first.

"Damn!" Rory cried out as the piping hot liquid flowed over him. His eyes teared up as the water traveled between his cheeks and invaded his abused orifice.

Ryder stood behind the teen with a cloth, gently washing his body. "I'm sorry. So, so, sorry," he repeated, the sounds of the teen's discomfort stabbing him like a knife. The boy's body was incredibly arousing, but the situation prevented Ryder from developing an erection. Instead he was able to function just fine, carefully parting the firm globes and with great care, ridding him of blood.

"I'm sorry! I know it hurts, but I have to make sure you're good and clean for the salve to work. Just a minute more," the incubus said.

"Just hurry, please. It feels like… like someone put me arse in a blender and ye'r pouring acid on it…"

The imagery would have made both males laugh in any other situation, but right now it was anything but humorous. Ryder stayed silent as he finished his task, then went about finishing the rest of their shower.

Once they had dried off, at Ryder's instruction Rory lay on the bed on his stomach, placing his head on a pillow and forcing himself to relax. That was easier said than done as Rory felt the man's fingers, slick with a salve, pressing between his cheeks. When Ryder carefully inserted his coated finger, Rory thought he might scream in agony, but within seconds the cream soothed his torn hindquarters.

"I'm sorry; I know that was painful. It will be awhile before you can have receptive sex again. If you try, the pain will be great, blood will return, and things will just end up a big debacle. You would be wise to wait a couple of weeks until the swelling goes down and you've had time to acclimate," Ryder explained. "When Sam arrives to rescue you, I will tell him myself about all this, and let him decide what to do with me. If he throws me back in prison or servitude, it is only fair for what I did. He deserves to hear my confession from me, not from anyone else."

"Ryder… ye' know that when Sam finds out, he'll kill ye'. I 'ave no doubts; Sam will kill ye'. More importantly, I want to tell him, when I'm ready. I can't do it yet; it's too fresh. I want him to think clearly because in all honesty, ye'r good at heart, and to lose someone else, especially a friend, would be the worst pain I could suffer. I've lost enough already."

"If he did kill me, it would be because I deserve it. What I did… it's inexcusable. Even under a spell, the deed is done, and I am responsible for the action." Ryder hung his head, fighting back more tears. "I know it seems weird that I even care about Sam and his reaction. I don't even know him, but he's important to you and…" he trailed off, preferring not to finish the conversation. "How does—uh how do you feel now?" he asked, referring to Rory's tender opening.

Rory winced slightly before answering. "It still hurts. Like a bruise that has constant pressure on it, and some burning pain. It feels like I was gutted out of me arse," he replied. He knew his description was overly graphic, but he couldn't help but lay on a little guilt.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry. You know, if it would tear me up the same way, I would let you rape me until I cried in agony, and than some. Anything if it would make it better. I would let you do whatever you wanted to dish out in retaliation and I wouldn't fight it," the incubus declared. "I wouldn't even fault you if you wanted to kill me yourself."

"Shut up with all that talk, Ryder. I'm angry at ye', but I don't want ye' dead. I'm not that kind o' person. I don't want to hurt anyone. I don't get off on causing people pain and suffering. I don't want to rape anyone, or beat them or anything. I don't even want to fight Rachel or Kitty, but I don't 'ave much choice. So just shut up with that talk," Rory scolded him, his eyes harsh. "Besides, I saw in ye'r head. It was Kitty that made ye' do it. If I want to kill anyone, it's her."

Ryder couldn't help but crack a smile. "You're a good person, Rory Flanagan. There are no better words. You're just a good person with the biggest heart I ever saw, and I've seen a lot of hearts. Literally and figuratively," he confessed.

"That's really gross. Seeing real hearts and stuff."

Ryder chuckled. "It's not the most pleasant thing but it comes with the territory," he said. They were quiet for a few more minutes as Ryder applied some more of the salve to the teen's butt, concentrating to keep from having an erection at the intimate touch. When he was finished, he made a simple request of the teen. "Can I hug you?"

"O' course," Rory replied, confused as to why it was even a question. He rolled over onto his side and sat up on his elbow as Ryder leaned in, wrapping his arms around the boy. Several more tears fell from Ryder's eyes and streaked his cheeks.

"Can I hold you? I know it sounds weird since you have Sam and all, but… after everything I did to you, I want to feel like I can protect you again. I promise it won't be sexual. Just friends, looking out for each other." The incubus asked.

Rory thought a moment, more concerned with the intimacy than worrying about sexual contact. Ryder was genuinely sorry and he could tell, especially after having seen his memories of the night before. He finally consented, the incubus sliding into the bed next to him, pulling him into his arms. It was strange at first, feeling the man's bare chest against his back, feeling Ryder's genitals brush against his sore ass, but never did Ryder get an erection nor make any move to do something sexual. He merely held onto Rory for dear life.

-ooo-

Sam stared at the television screen, the picture not really registering in his head. All he could focus on was his plan to rescue his boyfriend. He sat alone, nobody wanting to sit with him as they flew to Ireland on the airplane commissioned by the Vampire International Transportation Association, or VITA. They specialized in air travel for vampires, the bodies of the planes containing no windows whatsoever. Fiberglass coffins lined one side of the plane, while the other side had several rows of seats large enough to put first class seats on regular airlines to shame. The plane was spacious, not containing anywhere near the amount of seats as a typical aircraft due to the much smaller passenger manifests.

Blaine came up to Sam and sat down next to him. "We're going to get him out of there. We've all got your back. We're ready for this," he assured the vampire.

"I know. That's what bothers me. All of you, risking your lives. Because of me, and because of the banshee."

"How is any of this your fault, Sam? The banshee would have come regardless of whether or not you were around. At least with you, he has a chance," Blaine said. "I mean, look at you. You're a kick-ass vampire, with two other vampire friends, not to mention a powerful warlock, two shifters, and two very pissed off humans with weapons. Do you think he would have all of this on his side if it wasn't for you? No, so stop blaming yourself and get your head in the game. There's no half-assing this."

Sam let the corner of his mouth turn up in a smile. "Thank you," he said softly. "That makes me feel a little better. I just don't want anybody getting hurt."

Blaine's face was filled with resolve. "We all know the stakes and the risks. We're prepared to do what we have to do." His eyes bored into Sam's, insisting Sam trust his judgment. "Maybe you should get some rest. You're gonna need all your strength."

"You're right," the blonde replied. "We should all get some rest. We still have several hours yet." Sam stood up, stepping past the warlock and heading to one of the coffins. He paused and turned to Blaine. "Thanks again. I think that pep talk was just when I needed."

"No problem," Blaine replied with a smile. "Besides, none of us are doing this for you. We're doing it for Rory, so there's no way you can feel guilty."

Sam smiled back and lifted the lid of a coffin. He climbed in and pulled the lid closed from the inside. Within seconds he was fast asleep.

-ooo-

Kitty stood before the large mirror in her bedroom, admiring her own beauty. She could still feel the leprechaun's blood coursing through her body and it was having interesting effects on her. Kitty's eyes were brighter, more alluring with an aura of danger. Her lips were perfectly moistened, shining in the dim light of the room. Her skin took on a more porcelain look, not a single imperfection any longer visible.

She wore a translucent red gown exposing her flesh despite the covering Her long color-streaked blonde hair hung loosely around her figure in large curls. She was so busy admiring her new physical touches that she didn't notice she had a visitor until she turned around, intending to gaze at her firm rear end in the reflective surface.

"Oh, hello Ryder. Come to thank me again?" she cooed, her phony smile pasted across her face. The incubus stared at her, his eyes cold and hard, his face otherwise expressionless. "You seem a little upset."

In a flash, Ryder rushed the woman, his hand grasping her neck as he shoved her backward into the mirror. It shattered, the pieces falling to the floor, but Kitty didn't seem to notice.

The woman mewled as she reached up to unclench Ryder's fingers from her throat. No longer in his grip, she stood on her own two feet again, unbothered by the shards of reflective glass under her soles. "Nice try, sweetie. You know there is no way in hell that you can take me. Not even before the blood, and surely not after."

"You better leave him alone. Never touch him again," Ryder hissed. "He's too good for your touch."

Kitty rolled her eyes. "You're delusional. You annoy me, and if you piss me off, I may just kill you. You do know that the mistress has given me that power, right?"

"What? You're not serious!" Ryder exclaimed in surprise.

"Oh yes," the succubus said, smiling. She slowly approached him, tracing her fingertip along his chiseled chest, visible under his open shirt. "I believe her orders were to exterminate any detriment to the well being of the leprechaun or its longevity."

"Rory is not an 'it'! He's a person," Ryder insisted. "And aside from the atrocity you forced me to commit, I would never be a detriment to his well being or length of his life. You'd never be able to justify it."

The succubus grinned even wider, if it were possible at all. "You'd be dead. I could tell her anything I wanted to." She put her hands on her cheeks in a theatric expression. "Oh no! Ryder tried to rape the boy and was going to kill him so I just had to stop him! Oh, you mean I can keep the boy? I always wanted a pet!" she mocked, followed by high-pitched tittering.

Ryder rushed forward again and backhanded her, the bones in his wrist cracking loudly on contact. He cried out in pain, falling to his feet and grabbing his arm.

"Incubi. Stupid," Kitty rolled her eyes. She stooped down and grabbed Ryder by the throat and dragged him across the floor toward her door. "Just get out. I'm bored with you," she said, tossing him out like a bag of garbage. She slammed the door in his face and chuckled loudly enough for him to hear through the barrier.

Ryder trudged back to Rory's room, nursing his broken bones. Luckily for him, accelerated healing was part of the incubus power-package, so he would be fully healed up in the better part of a day. That didn't mean it would hurt any less until then. He had gone to Kitty with intent to work some of his anger out on her, even though he knew it was a stupid thing to do. He was simply so angry with her, and with himself, yet he had no outlet for his rage but he couldn't think of anything else to do.

"Are ye' okay? Ye' look like ye'r in pain," Rory observed as Ryder slumped down on the edge of the bed.

"I'll be fine by day's end. I think I made my point," Ryder replied. Yeah, my point that I'm still a rag doll compared to her.

"Maybe ye' should get some rest. I bet e'en an ink-you-bus needs his sleep to be at full strength," Rory said, over-emphasizing the syllables in 'incubus'. "Ye' can't protect me and take care o' me if ye'r too worn out."

Ryder looked over at him with saddened eyes. "I couldn't protect you from myself, could I? I can't keep you safe. You see that now, right?"

"Let's not talk about what happened right now. Rest. I think I'm gonna go sit in some hot water in the tub for a bit. Might help with the aching," Rory said. He hadn't intended his remark to be mean, but maybe just a slight bit guilting. Ryder had done what he could to assist in his healing, but aches and pains didn't go away quite as easily as actual wounds and Rory was still very upset about the raping incident. He kept going back and forth in his head, unsure how much of the blame should be Ryder's. It was obvious that Kitty was at fault for everything, but just how much could Ryder have prevented or made himself stop was what had him confused. Ryder had been consistently kind to him, and protective, but he couldn't figure out if all that meant nothing now, or if it still held any weight.

-ooo-

Rory awoke to the sound of Artie's voice booming in the room. "Get up, leprechaun! Prepare and be in the throne room within the hour," he said, glaring at the teenager. "You're expected to be clean and your keeper will dress you." He gave a sneer as he said the word 'keeper.' It was obvious that he, like Kitty, felt disdain for the incubus. Not waiting for a response, he turned around and wheeled out of the room with as little fanfare as he had entered.

Ryder had woken up an hour before his charge had. He sat in the bed, watching the boy sleep, feeling nothing but extreme guilt. It was beginning to consume him. He wondered if he should explain what Kitty had meant when she said Rory resembled a previous lover of his. When Rory woke to Artie's unpleasant wake-up call, he decided it best not to mention it.

"I'm afraid it's time. I'm still a bit hurt. Would it be alright if you washed yourself and dressed without my assistance?" the incubus inquired. The injury was a cover—in reality he felt the most awkward thing in the world would be seeing Rory naked again, let alone touching him to bathe him.

"I don't mind. I won't be long," the teen replied, kicking off the covers and getting out of bed, padding to the bathroom, wiping sleep from his eyes.

"I'll ready your clothes and leave them in the bathroom for you," Ryder said. Getting up, he went over to the wardrobe, opening the doors and examining the clothing inside. He wanted to pick out something nice for the boy. He wasn't entirely sure of what Rachel had in store for him, but the least he could do was make sure Rory was comfortable and dressed well.

In the shower, Rory winced as the hot water hit his aching body yet again and trailed down between his cheeks, running over his tender opening. It stung, reminding him of the terrible event that had led to the injury, but he had turned down Ryder's offer of magical pain management. Any form of intimate contact with Ryder seemed incredibly undesirable for the time being. Even letting the man coddle him seemed uncomfortable to a degree.

The sting intensified as he washed over himself with soap, the suds burning him. He bit his bottom lip, praying that Sam would come for him soon. Sam. The only person that could truly make everything all right again.

After ten minutes, Ryder heard the water from the shower turn off. He had finally picked out an outfit that pleased him. He knocked on the bathroom door and waited for permission to enter. Rory was still toweling himself dry, but thankfully had one of the towels wrapped around his waist, preserving his dignity. Ryder said nothing but merely set the garments down on the toilet seat lid and left, forcing himself not to look.

Another ten minutes passed by before the boy emerged from the restroom, fully clothed. He wore a pair of dark blue jeans with matching denim jacket, a pale red shirt underneath. He donned a pair of brown boots, and had his hair neatly gelled. He was very handsome, and it was a shame he was about to meet a very unpleasant experience.

"Have some breakfast, and then I'll take you to the throne room," Ryder said softly, nodding toward the table with a meal of eggs and bacon, sausage links, hash browns and toast sat waiting for him. "Eat up, you will need your strength."

Rory regarded him carefully, picking up on the changed demeanor of his 'keeper.' He sat down at the table and began to eat, occasionally taking sips of orange juice. The thought crossed his mind that orange juice was good for replenishing the blood supply and he had to wonder if that was intentional. He knew in his heart he was about to be forced to part with a large amount of his life force. What scared him the most was how much she intended to take, and how she planned to take it from him.

-ooo-

Everyone on the airplane was suddenly awoken by a loud noise, something much louder than should be heard thirty-thousand feet in the air. It sounded like an explosion.

"Oh my…" Tina breathed, unable to finish her sentence. She, along with Mike, Kurt, Mercedes, and Blaine, were staring at a computer screen at the front of the aircraft, their eyes transfixed in horror at the sight before them. The left wing was on fire.

Mike gathered his wits and dashed to the side of the plane where the three coffins were stowed. He began to bang loudly on the lid of Sam's, startled when it finally opened.

"What's going on!?" Sam shouted, fully alert. "That smell!" In a flash he was in the cabin, pushing the others out of the way so he could see the fire on the screen; a bright orange flame against the night sky. "No…"

Sebastian and Santana joined him in shock, Mike having roused them quickly. Tina had sat herself down in one of the seats, her eyes heavy with tears, her face a mask of fear. Mercedes was screaming at the top of her lungs at Sam, but he was ignoring her. Kurt was interjecting his own expletives along with her. Mike was attempting to prevent Tina from hyperventilating and Blaine and Sam stared at each other, hopeless looks in their eyes.

Santana was screeching back at Mercedes and Kurt, but only Sebastian had any sense of clarity. He almost seemed bored by the entire situation.

"I don't know why everyone's so worked up. We have parachutes of course. Not to mention the shifters can simply take the form of birds and fly," the sheriff said calmly. "Even vampires will be fine as long as we don't fall on a tree. It's the damned humans that are the problem."

"How can you be so casual about this!? We're all in danger here you fucking idiot!" Sam bellowed. Surprisingly nobody was taken aback by his vulgarity or brashness in insulting his superior. In fact, Sebastian was even more amused by it than before.

"Alright, alright. We'll take the easy way then. Everyone don their parachutes and we jump. The hold in the back can be dumped so our supplies will land below us with their own parachutes. Then out we go. Simple enough for you?" Sebastian replied sarcastically. "No harm to the humans, or anyone else. Well, unless they forget to pull the cord."

"Hold up, hot shot," Santana interrupted. "I'm all fine for a little jump, but I don't think it's a great idea for Ghetto Oprah and the Porcelain Doll-boy to be on their own. Not that it would bother me if they happened to end up wedged somewhere in a mountain, but they are part of the team." She rolled her eyes and gave both humans a smirk. Blaine held Kurt back while Mike jumped up from Tina and gripped Mercedes' arm.

"She's right. We can't risk their safety any more than we have to. Kurt, you go with Tina, Mercedes with Mike, and Blaine with me. Worst-case scenario, I hear hawks have incredible strength for birds," Sam agreed.

"Enough chatter, let's get a move on," Sebastian said, still as calm as a Hindu cow. He moved to the back of the cabin and opened a cabinet, revealing parachutes. He started pulling them out, one by one and passing them along. "Just fasten these straps, tighten these lines, and the kids get latched onto mummy and daddy and the witch with Samuel, and out we go. I suggest anyone feeling the need to vomit do so now rather than in the air."

As the team began to equip their gear for their airborne escape, the entire aircraft began to shudder. It was becoming difficult to stand without falling over, and once Sebastian opened the cargo door, it was going to get a lot worse.

"The cabin's on fire!" Tina cried suddenly. Sure enough, smoke was pouring into the cabin as everyone finished securing their parachutes and moved into the cargo hold. "Go! We have to go now!"

"Calm down! Check your partner and get ready. As soon as I open this door, it'll be all we can do not to get sucked right out. As soon as we get out, try to spread out a little so we don't get caught in each other's cords!" Sebastian yelled over the increasing noise of the fire and howling coming from outside as the cargo bay door began to slowly lower.

Everyone was holding on to the walls for dear life, not one of them particularly anxious to get this under way. "Ladies first," Sebastian said coolly, motioning for Santana. The woman sauntered up to him as well as she could with the high winds and planted her lips firmly on her maker's mouth, one hand holding on to the handrail on the wall, and the other gripping his crotch and giving him a squeeze.

"See you at the bottom. Don't leave me alone with these fucktarted people, either!" Santana hissed into his ear after her kiss. She winked at him and then let go of the railing. She half-walked and was half-sucked to the opening, the supply crates having already ejected. She turned around and blew Sam a kiss, her sarcastic grin crossing her face before she dived out of the hold.

"I love her dramatics," Sebastian said with a smile. "Next?"

Mike and Mercedes were next. Mercedes was still cussing at Sebastian, damning him to every part of Hell she could think of. Dante Alighieri would be impressed as she passed the seven circles several sentences before. Mike dragged the angry woman out of the bay, praying that she would pass out from fear before they hit the ground.

Kurt was slightly less troublesome as he and Tina made their dive into the sky. He was in tears, mumbling, but otherwise nowhere near as dramatic as Mercedes.

"Well Sam, looks like just us and the witch. You gentlemen care to go first?" Sebastian asked, nodding his head.

"Not on your life. You first. Then us," Sam replied boldly. "We'll be right behind you."

"Considering I am your sheriff and I have put up with most of this charade of a battle team, you sure are a smart ass," the older vampire said. "See you down below," he said, taking a stroll right off the edge as if he were walking right down the street.

Blaine looked back at Sam, his eyes heavy with dread. "I trust you, Sam. Don't get me killed," he said, giving up all attempts to sound brave.

"Don't worry. We'll be fine. It's the others I'm worried about. I guess we better get on down there," the vampire replied, his confidence shaky. "Ready when you are."

The two men stepped forward and in a joint effort, fell from the platform. The air rushed by their heads, Blaine closing his eyes and waiting for it to be over with. He could feel himself being pulled and pushed this way and that by the cold, harsh wind. He even felt dampness as they tumbled through the clouds.

"Hold on!" he heard Sam shout, but just barely as the rush of wind drowned out most sound. He quickly understood the order, however, as his entire body felt like it was being yanked upward as the parachute opened and the sky grabbed hold of it. They descended quickly as Sam struggled to maintain some semblance of direction and suddenly Blaine felt his body being slammed into the ground. Strong arms were wrapped around him, and they were rolling. He hadn't even noticed the sting of tree branches lashing out at his body when they crashed through the forest. It was those very branches, however, that slowed their descent the last little bit they needed.

When Blaine opened his eyes, he found himself staring up at the leaves and sky, his head spinning. He felt his chest loosen up as the straps around him were released and Sam gently pushed him off. "Sorry about that. Rougher landing than I meant. This is my first time at this after all," the blonde apologized.

"No worries. We didn't die. Thanks," Blaine said with a pained smiled. His whole body ached and he knew he would be feeling it for days to come. Or so he hoped, because that would mean that he had survived. "Where's everyone else?"

They didn't see anyone else right away, but they heard Mercedes screeching yet again, this time fussing that she was stuck in a tree, Mike still attached to her back. Mike was shouting at her to be quiet and stop waving her arms about. Under any other circumstances, the scene would have been hilarious.

Kurt was sitting with his back next to a tree trunk, his knees drawn up to his chest. Blaine ran over to him to check on him while Tina was busy trying to help Mike and Mercedes down from their perch. Santana and Sebastian were yet to be seen. Sam tried to listen for signs of them, but between Mercedes' yelling and Mike's orders to silence herself, all he could hear was noise. Not waiting to alert anyone else, he began to run around the immediate area in vampire speed, searching for Sebastian and the sheriff's 'daughter'.

-ooo-

"This is such bullshit, Sebastian!" Santana hissed at her maker. "We're risking our lives out here and for what? Some stupid little fairy? This whole crush was cute when it didn't involve me getting my nails broken, but now it's gotten a little obsessive!"

"Santana," Sebastian began calmly. "There are times when I greatly appreciate your opinion on things, particularly when it concerns my well being. However, this is not one of those times."

The vampiress seethed behind Sebastian's back, suddenly feeling a strong desire to push her luck and tear into him as she so often did behind closed doors. Never would either of them allow someone else to see the inner workings of their relationship, but in secret, Sebastian treated her like an equal and often valued her insight.

Santana decided to press things on anyway, despite how unwise it was. "You're in love with him, aren't you? This isn't just a little crush, you love him," she said evenly. "You-"

"You'd be wise not to continue, Santana," Sebastian said smoothly, placing his finger over her mouth. "My reasons are not anyone else's to understand, not even yours. Be smart, don't make me command you."

Defeated, the woman simply sighed and glared at him. He smirked in response before turning his attention to their current situation. "I can sense the others in that direction there," he said, pointing. "Of course I can smell Sam's scent all over the place. He's rushing around frantically trying to find us, and if I ever get hold of the CEO of Nautica, I will rip out his throat and eat it because that cologne Sam wears is way too overpowering."

Before he could continue griping about trivial matters, Sam found them. He stopped before them, looking them over to assess their status. "You two look like you made it through alright. Come on, everyone else is waiting," the blonde said, not waiting for a reply. The three vampires quickly ran to where the other team members had landed.

Santana burst into laughter when she spotted Mercedes and Mike still hanging in the tree. Despite not needing air, she fell to one knee and placed her hand on her chest as if hyperventilating from too much enjoyment. Mercedes began to swear at her but was quickly interrupted when the tether came loose, and she and Mike fell from the parachute.

Sam rushed to catch the flailing woman, doing so only out of respect for Rory and the fact that she was his friend. He really was annoyed by the way she was acting and concerned even more that she might attract attention. He could easily have glamoured her into silence, but it was a vow he had made to himself not to use his influence on people more than necessary and especially not on Rory's friends. It would be an extreme breach of trust on his part and he wasn't about to risk it, even under the circumstances.

Mercedes actually thanked Sam for catching her, her torrent of vulgarity finally stopping. Mike had landed much easier, his legs far more limber and able to absorb the impact from such a high distance. As Mercedes brushed herself off, Sam took a quick look around, again assessing the situation.

Kurt was still sitting against a tree, Blaine talking quietly to him. Sam could hear their conversation but chose to block it out, again out of respect for the humans. Santana was recovering from her fit of laughter, and Sebastian was simply standing and observing silently, slyly stealing glances in Blaine's direction and admiring his rear. Mike and Tina were talking quietly as well; another conversation he chose to ignore.

"Okay, status check. Everyone alright?" Sam asked, trying to bring things back to order. "Sorry for the crazy exit, but it was better than exploding in the plane I think. We'll take another five minutes for everyone to get themselves together and then we have to get moving. Sebastian, the GPS?"

Sebastian glanced at his wrist, a contraption strapped to it. He pressed a couple of buttons and the screen lit up, filling with information and an image. "North, about three miles. We got lucky to land so close. If we had waited any longer to jump, we might be walking a hell of a lot further than this."

-ooo-

Rachel sat on her throne in the back of the ornate room with all of the mirrors. They were all repaired, including the chandeliers and anything else that had been destroyed during the previous confrontation with the leprechaun.

Kitty sauntered in, her translucent dress flowing around her. "They've been taken care of, mistress," she said with a very wide grin. "Their aircraft was shot down from the sky, and crashed a few miles from here. There's no way any of them, even the vampires, could have survived such an explosion."

"Yes, I felt the vibrations of the blast. I'm not entirely certain they didn't escape. They're crafty, this particular group. Well, not too crafty considering they took the bait of my invite. I would have let you play with them, but I just couldn't risk something happening," Rachel said doubtfully. She was confident, but not arrogantly so. "Who made the shot?"

"Arthur. Well, you know how much he prefers Artie, but him. I must say, he has quite a knack for weaponry and mechanical things," Kitty replied. "I imagine he'd be a good fighter if he wasn't a cripple." She giggled at the use of Artie's most hated word.

Rachel let a smile cross her face. "You're cruel, Kitty. You know how much I like that." Kitty beamed proudly like a child having just been commended on a piece of artwork. "When I get the blood, my power will increase, and I can help Artie to walk again. He will be a skilled fighter, but his knowledge is vastly more important. He is as wise as any sage, and just as you said, very handy with mechanicals. I just find his bitter attitude annoying, and his insistence on wearing such drab, old fashioned clothing doesn't help."

It was Kitty's turn to giggle. "Not everyone can dress as well as Ryder when it comes to men, mistress."

Rachel let out a loud guffaw. "Kitty, you're as see-through as your dress! Your crush on that incubus is endearing to me, and incredibly obvious. It's unfortunate he prefers his own kind. Men, I mean."

The succubus frowned, her face turning to one of sorrow. Her features even seemed to lose their luster. "He hasn't been the same since that brat a couple hundred years ago. Ever since the perfect boy, that Damian, he has moped around in misery. He doesn't even seem to enjoy his conquests much anymore. It's disgusting."

"I think you're jealous. Unbecoming of a succubus, really, but understandable. I remember that Ryder was willing to offer his own life for him. It came to me in a vision that the boy would die of a horrible disease, something they've since found a cure for. I prepared to let sing my wail, my call of death, but Ryder came to me, begging me to spare him." Rachel closed her eyes as she recalled the vivid memory from so long ago. "I took pity on him. I let the boy live in exchange for Ryder's eternal service.. Too bad for him, the boy died anyway of his own accord later on."

Kitty kept the strongest poker face she could muster. She, and only she, knew the truth about Damian's death. Not even Ryder knew what had happened. Kitty had lured him to death with her own tantalizing abilities. She was beyond cruel in her torment, and by the time she was finished, the young man was in such despair that Kitty did him the favor of a merciful slaughter. And slaughter it was as she used her ability to force him to cut himself. He was bleeding badly as she walked him to the highest cliff near the shores of the ocean and gave him that final encouragement to leap. He needn't jump, however, as his weakening body collapsed, falling forward and over the edge, leaving his form broken and dead on the rocks below. There were no traces of evidence that Kitty had anything to do with it. Damian had written a classic goodbye note to Ryder, and the trail of blood led from his home to the cliff. Ryder despaired so deeply at that point that he considered committing suicide himself, but Kitty convinced him not to.

The one concern Kitty had over the leprechaun was that if he touched her, he could dig into her memory and find that very night in her head and drag it out, then spill the truth to both Ryder and Rachel. Fortunately for her, succubi and incubi had incredible control over their minds, so it would take quite the venture to drag anything out of her.

-ooo-

"Are you scared?" Ryder asked as he went to unlock the bedroom door. He refused to look at the boy, knowing that if he did, his heart would burst. They looked too much alike. They acted too much alike-the kindness, the understanding, the innocence, the bravery.

"I'd be lying if I said no," Rory replied quietly. "Do ye' really not know what's gonna happen?" He placed his hand on Ryder's bicep, pulling the man to face him. "Please, look at me. I know ye' won't lie."

Ryder sighed heavily, forcing back a tear. "I really don't know. I can tell you this much, however. I know she doesn't want to kill you. If she kills you, that's it. When the effect of your blood wears off, she has no more. She has to keep you alive, like some sort of… fountain of power. It's just that… there are some things worse than death," the incubus admitted.

Rory shuddered and hugged himself. "Why can't I fight her, Ryder? Why can't I use me power to protect meself? And.. and ye'."

"Why would you want to protect me? After what I did? If you want to fight anyone, it should be me. If you want to kill anyone, it should be me," Ryder answered, his voice quivering slightly.

"We've discussed that already. I don't want to revisit it again. I want to protect ye' because despite that incident, ye've been kind to me. Ye've looked out for me, and been a friend to me. One mistake doesn't give me the right to fight or kill a friend, even if it was a really huge mistake."

Ryder closed his eyes, trying to fight back the tears, but failing miserably. He opened them again, his vision blurry. He ran the back of his hand across the leprechaun's cheek, the soft feeling of the boy's skin bringing forth more memories.

"You're just like him," Ryder whispered. Without knowing what he was doing, he wrapped his arms around the boy, placing his hand on the back of his head, holding him to his chest. "Damian, why did you have to leave me? Why can't I come with you?"

Rory was starting to feel slightly uncomfortable, fully aware that Ryder was under some sort of emotional hallucination. At the same time he pitied the man. Falling in love so long ago and then having it taken from him had to be horrible. So he assumed anyway. Ryder had never explained himself, but Rory gathered from his few comments that apparently this boy was someone Ryder was in love with, and for some reason they were torn apart. What could he do for the man who had been so kind to him despite his nature? Could he do something to ease Ryder's despair?

Sam, forgive me, Rory thought. He released himself from Ryder's grasp, standing in front of him, their bodies inches away. He swallowed back his fear, his apprehension, and his guilt as he was about to do something he didn't want to do, but knew was the only thing he could give the man. He leaned forward and pulled Ryder closer, closer, closer. Rory closed his eyes and let his lips press against the other man's.

Rory's lips, plus his hands on Ryder's biceps were more than enough tactile contact to do what he needed to do. While their lips continued to touch, he dug his mind into the incubus. He let himself walk through the memories, centuries of memories. Some were horrible, some were good, and some were simply blank space, a void. "Damian!?" he called out mentally. "Please! Come out!" No reply, so he dug deeper into the incubus' head. It was the farthest he had ever gone into another person's mind, and it was scary. Finally he saw a faint glimmer ahead. A glimmer that magnified into a human form, a form that looked eerily enough like Rory himself. There were slight differences, but for the most part it was like looking into a mirror. A mental mirror. "Come with me," his mind instructed. The boy, Damian, took his lead and followed forward, back through the centuries of memories, back through the horrors and the voids. Finally they were at the front of Ryder's mind.

"This is where ye' stay. The strongest memory he has," Rory thought. He felt himself slam back into his own head, their lips parting, his hands falling to his sides-the tactile tether gone. He felt a sudden headache and could detect something running from his nose. He brought up his finger and wiped across his upper lip, and when he pulled back, it was red with blood.

Unsure of exactly what to do next as Ryder fell to his knees in tears, Rory turned and walked away to the bathroom. He wiped his nose clean of blood, his headache still strong. He had never before dug so deeply, and never before tried to actually make some sort of contact with a memory. It was like reaching into a movie and touching the actors, dragging them away from the scene. It was something he hadn't been entirely sure he could do, but somehow he had, and now he was paying for it with a very bad headache and a bloody nose.

I'm so sorry, Sam. I had to. For his kindness. The guilt was settling in, the knowledge that he had willingly kissed a man other than Sam weighing in on him. He prayed that Sam would understand, that he wouldn't be angry with him. It wasn't a kiss of passion, or a kiss of infidelity. It was a means to an end that was what he hoped was the right thing to do. Whatever the case, it was something he would have to confess to the vampire at a later time, when all of this was over.

When he walked back into the bedroom, Ryder was still on his knees, his head in his hands. "Damian… It's all so clear. It's like you were here with me just yesterday." He stopped and looked up at Rory. "What did you do to me?"

Rory smiled and knelt down, looking the incubus in the eyes, seeing the faintest teal glow appearing there. "I found ye'r memories o' him. I brought them back, so ye' could see them clearly again. I tried to make them stay there. I hope it works." Ryder began to smile, his eyes watering again. "I can't bring him back, but maybe the memories will help ye'."

"Yeah, I think they will. After all this time, things were getting hazy, starting to fade no matter how hard I tried to hold on to the memories. Thank you, Rory. I don't deserve your compassion. You are so much like him. He would have done the same thing. Damian was so kind, so selfless."

"I know. Ye' told me. When I was in ye'r head I mean. The memories I saw o' him as I pulled him out. And he could sing. When I was in ye'r head, all I could hear in there was the sound o' a young man's voice singing. It was an echo that got stronger the closer I got," Rory explained.

"It's so unfair. It's so unfair that I have to take you to her, to let her do whatever she plans to do with you. You have to believe I don't want to," Ryder pleaded. "This would all be so much easier if you hated me."

"It's not in me nature to hate people. I'm afraid of what's going to happen. I'm terrified. I don't want to go through that door right now and I don't want to go in her throne room and take whate'er she has in mind. Me last hope is Sam. If he comes, help him. That's all I ask."

Ryder stood up. "I'm sorry. We have to go now." He turned around and unlatched the door, escorting his young friend down the hall. They walked in silence until they finally stood before the large door to Rachel's throne room. He placed his hand on the handle but paused, turning his head to the frightened teen. "When he comes, I'll help him. I promise. I have to confess, I think… I think I love you."

Rory smiled. "No, ye' love Damian. Only him. Ye' just see me as his memory. That's what ye' love. It's always been him, and it always will be. Alive or dead, he's ye'r soul mate and someday, somehow ye'll be together again."

Ryder offered a pained grin before turning back to face the door. He pushed the latch and opened it, revealing the beautiful throne room. Rachel sat in the middle, dressed in a regal gown of translucent fabrics that billowed around her motionless form. Kitty stood at her side, equally beautiful but with the pleasured sneer of a spoiled child on her lips.

It was time to get this over with.

-ooo-

It took slightly longer for Sam and the others to travel three miles than it should have, only because Kurt and Mercedes were constantly complaining about the trek. Their endurance and stamina for physical exertion was vastly different from their non-human counterparts. Blaine seemed to be just fine, but he also spent time at the gym that his friends did not.

They arrived at the gates to the fortress, expecting some sort of opposition but seeing none. From the outside, the entire building was every bit the stereotypical castle of olden days, albeit with numerous modern conveniences such as lighting and electronic gates. It boasted towers complete with glassless windows. It appeared to be several stories high, with an otherwise flat roof. Elaborate stonework decorated the walls, tall columns outlining the main entrance. One odd addition to the ancient-looking castle was a visible satellite dish flanked by what appeared to be spotlights and strobes. It was garish and just the sort of thing a self-absorbed songstress would have on her stage of a home.

"Now how the hell are we gonna get inside? It's got walls all around it and a huge gate!" Mercedes questioned, putting her hands on her hips. "I hope you don't think I'm going to climb over that big-ass iron fence!"

"Calm down, Rambo Barbie," Santana said harshly. "Nobody expects you to you haul your fat ass over that fence. You can wait right out here and be ready to run. You should know all about running away from a crime scene," she added, cackling.

"Oh hells no, this bitch did not just make that racist-ass comment!" Mercedes howled. "You better hope I don't get hold of a stake because I doubt anyone would miss your sarcastic ass."

"Oh please, I would snap your neck before you even got a chance to get a splinter. I've killed hundreds of humans far more threatening than you," Santana stated, sneering.

"Enough!" Sam bellowed over them. "We don't have time for this! Put your energy into this mission, not bickering with each other, otherwise you'll both end up dead during the first fight," he said, glaring at both women.

Sebastian giggled as his subject scolded the arguing pair. "Now children, don't make me turn this rag-tag team around and go home. There will be no dessert tonight if you can't behave yourselves," he teased. He decided it best not to call bullshit on his progeny's declaration of multiple human homicides, lest the argument amplify once again.

Ignoring both Mercedes' and Santana's harsh eyes, he went on to answer the original question of entry. "Anyhow, there's a way in. Unless it's been changed," Sebastian said matter-of-factly. "Don't look at me like that. I have been here ages ago, but I sure didn't meet a crazy banshee." Everyone was staring. It was the first any of them, including Santana, had heard of Sebastian's visit to this god-forsaken place.

"Then what were you doing here, Sebastian?" Sam demanded. Everyone shifted their eyes from one man to the other and back, waiting to see how much the confrontation would escalate. Neither man cared for each other, and the fact Sebastian had been at this very location once before didn't exactly instill confidence in anyone, especially when two other teammates had nearly been at blows only seconds before.

Sebastian scoffed. "Oh calm down, Samuel. I came back here with an incubus a couple centuries ago and we had quite a nice time for a few days."

"They fucked each other's brains out," Santana verified. Her maker looked at her, surprised. "Well what else would you mean? A riveting weekend of drinking tea and playing board games?"

Satisfied that she was unaware of his past tryst and merely expounding on his speech, he went on.

"Yes, we fucked like rabbits for days on end. It was exhausting but the best sex I had ever had up to that point. Of course, I never knew this was where that batshit banshee lived, and I don't even know if that incubus still lives here. He may be long gone. It's not like we kept in touch. They didn't have e-mail or cell phones back then you know," the sheriff pointed out harshly.

Still skeptical, Sam brought up his next point. "If he brought you back so willingly, then why do you know about a back door? Shouldn't he have just taken you in the front? Or did he forget his keys?" he asked sarcastically.

"Trust me, I got well acquainted with his back door," Sebastian answered with a smirk, motioning for the others to follow him. "This isn't really hidden, it's just accessed through the gardens. Typical hedge maze. You can simply squeeze through the bushes. It really isn't that hard, nor is it the best security system, either."

Sam's and Sebastian's enhanced hearing heard Santana comment under her breath, "The rest of us can squeeze through, but chunk-style over there might not fit." Luckily the woman in question did not hear, and neither Sam nor Sebastian felt it necessary to make an issue of the insult.

Sure enough, they turned the corner and saw the large growth of the hedge garden. Sebastian approached one of the shrubbery walls and dug his hands inside, then ripped them apart, the crackling of branches and falling of leaves accompanying his invasion.

"How did you know you could get in this way?" Sam asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Simple. I had seen it. Despite what you might believe, we had a lot of sex, but we did spend some time not fucking. One night we strolled through the gardens until we decided to move on to other things in the farther corners of the maze. Pure logic would tell you that a hedge could simply be cut open. You really should try to keep up, Sam," the sheriff replied smugly.

"Fine. Sebastian, you go in first. Mike next, and then Santana and I will bring up the rear after the rest of you. When you get on the other side, stay put, don't run off without us," Sam ordered.

"You don't have to talk to us like we're twelve," Kurt barked back. "We're perfectly capable of-"

The teen was interrupted abruptly as Sam turned on him, the vampire's finger in his face, his fangs extended. "Look, I didn't ask you to come. You insisted. You have no powers, you're vulnerable and at the moment a real burden, so how about you remember that you're under our protection and just do what I tell you to without a bunch of crap?" he hissed. He normally didn't get that aggressive or talk to people that way, but Kurt and Mercedes were both getting on his nerves and were more of a detriment than an asset with their constant complaining and sarcastic commentary. If they were to stay safe and be of use, they needed to be quiet and do what they were told. Santana was working his nerves as well, but with her vampire abilities she was still an asset and she would not be so easy to intimidate.

Sebastian and Santana watched as Sam finished his harsh words, the pair of them smiling smugly. "About time someone shut those brats up," Santana whispered to her maker. The pair of them giggled, visibly annoying Kurt and Mercedes.

"Sam, calm down," Blaine said sternly, putting his hand on the man's still extended finger and pushing down. "They'll stay in line, right guys?" he asked, looking to his friends in a plea for agreement.

"Y-yeah. Sure thing," Kurt mumbled. Mercedes merely nodded, neither human taking their eyes off of Sam's sharp teeth.

"We're this close to Rory. Keep a cool head and we can get him back home, safe and sound," Blaine said to Sam, staring him in the eyes. "Now let's get through those shrubs and save our friend."

Sam nodded and gave Blaine a slight smile. He was right, Sam needed to keep a cool head and calm himself down if he was going to succeed. "Thanks," he said softly. "You might be what gets us through this."

"Those two have a serious bromance going on," Santana whispered to Sebastian. "They just need to go ahead and fuck already and get it over with before we get the boy. Hey, maybe they'll go for a foursome, Seb."

Sebastian cut his eyes at the younger vampire, silencing her jovial mocking. "Just focus and do what I order you," he said. "I guess since I opened the door, I'll go through first. I'll see you all on the other side," he added, raising his voice to an authoritative level.

"Wait," Mike spoke up for the first time since arriving at the castle. "Let me and Tina go first. We'll shift into birds and get a better view of what we might be up against. We have no idea what's on the other side of that hedge."

Sebastian raised an eyebrow and looked around at the others. "You have a valid point. How embarrassing that I didn't think of it first," he said. "Very well. The pair of you go first. We'll hold your clothing here for when you return."

Saying nothing, Mike and Tina nodded at each other and quickly disrobed. The three humans all blushed and turned away, not expecting to ever see their friends in the nude. Neither shifter was fazed by it, however.

"Fascinating," the sheriff commented as he and the other vampires watched as the two shifters began to take on different forms, shrinking down, arms turning to wings, legs to talons, faces to beaks. Where two people once stood, now two blackbirds perched atop heaps of clothing.

The two blackbirds began to flap their wings, taking off into the sky to investigate. The rest of the team quietly waited for them to return. Blaine was standing with Kurt, talking softly to him. Mercedes was sitting on the ground, seemingly pouting at her earlier reprimand. Santana was leaning up against the hedge, this time buffing her nails.

"Does she ever stop messing with her fingernails?" Sam inquired.

"She's sharpening them. One thing Santana is good at is a catfight. Her nails are razor sharp and I can guarantee they could shred even a Kevlar vest," Sebastian explained proudly.

Sam smiled at the cleverness of the woman. He strongly disliked her, but he had to admit she was smart. He never would have thought to do such a thing. He and Sebastian stood in silence, everyone waiting impatiently for the return of their scouts.

What had to be twenty minutes later, the two blackbirds returned, shifting back into human form as they landed. Again the three humans averted their eyes as the shifters pulled their attire back on as they explained their findings.

"Not exactly a lot out there," Mike said. "A simple hedge maze as you said, and not a guard in sight. The back entrance is mostly glass. I don't know who did the designing around here, but someone needs to tell her you don't mix contemporary, modern, Greek, and medieval architecture in one building."

"That's his critical side coming out," Tina explained. "He's right though. Any enhancements to the structure seem incredibly out of place, but lucky for us, that tacky glass entrance is our ticket for an easy way inside."

"Excellent. Then we proceed as planned," Sebastian stated, nodding toward the two supernatural beings. Not waiting for a response from anyone, he slid through the hole in the brush, stepping out into the maze itself.

The others followed suit, Sam the last one to come through. All around them were nothing but plants. High hedges, flowers, everything. Under any other circumstances, it would have been beautiful, but for now it just looked creepy.

"Well, genius, where to now?" Santana asked, rolling her eyes toward her maker.

"We're splitting up," Sebastian stated. Mercedes looked like she was going to open her mouth but Kurt quickly nudged her, reminding her of Sam's reaction at their previous outburst. "Look, this place is huge; there's a lot of ground to cover. Rory could be anywhere, as could the banshee, the succubus, and whatever other crazies she has working for her. The best way to get through this place is to split into groups."

"I'll take the direct route in," Sam announced, walking past Sebastian. The sheriff grabbed his arm, halting him abruptly.

"No, you won't," the elder said firmly, staring Sam in the eyes, challenging him. "If they're expecting us, and they most likely are, they'll be ready to take you out in a heart beat."

Sam huffed but relented, knowing the older man was right. A direct intrusion would be easily thwarted. "Alright, what do you suggest then?"

Smirking, Sebastian paused a moment before replying, eyeing each of the members of their team one by one as if mentally surveying each one's effectiveness in combat. After a few minutes, his plan was formed.

-ooo-

"Bring him forward," Rachel announced, her voice echoing through the chamber. She was going for theatrics again, speaking in a regal tone of voice. Steeling himself, Rory stepped forward, Ryder at his side.

"It'll be okay," Ryder whispered as they came to a halt in front of the throne. He stepped back and off to the side, crossing his arms in front of him and watching.

Rachel stood and approached the tall leprechaun hybrid, her eyes roving him up and down. "Last time we had some rather… unpleasantness in our conversation," she cooed. "You look to have healed up quite nicely."

"Ryder helped me with that," Rory said flatly. "He's been taking good care o' me. Much better than ye'."

The banshee raised her arm as if to slap him, but instead straightened her hair. "He's had proper training. I'm a free spirit. He is enslaved to me. I tell him to take care of you, and he does. I hope you don't think he's doing it out of the kindness of his heart," she teased, smiling and batting her eyes.

"He follows ye'r orders, but I've seen in his head. There's humanity there. He's a good person," Rory declared confidently. "It's ye'r Kitty that has no humanity in her, and I don't need to see in her head to know that."

The banshee tittered a high-pitched laugh. "Oh silly boy, Kitty does indeed have a soul. It's damned, but she has one. She has hundreds, really. Every soul she has sucked out of her victims is locked inside of her somewhere. Her mind is a darkness that even Satan would be proud of. However, I chose Ryder to be your caretaker for very specific reasons, and since he's done such a good job, he'll continue to be your caretaker. That said, you will be owing him a great deal of thanks when we're done and he once again takes care of you."

"What do ye' want with me? Ye' want me blood? Fine, I'll give ye' some. Get a needle like normal people, or e'en an IV. Ye' don't 'ave to go with the crazy stuff," the teen informed her.

"But see, I like the crazy stuff. I like causing pain and suffering to get what I want. I need that blood, and I'll take it how I want to," the woman said sternly. "Now, I have tired of your chatter. Last time there was too much talk, not enough blood for my liking. If you just cooperate, the pain will be much easier on you." She tittered again and then sighed. "Oh who am I kidding, child? It's going to be your worst nightmare no matter what. It will be legendary even in Hell."

Rory's body began to quiver as Rachel's words sent chills up and down his spine. There was no reasoning with her. There was no bargaining. She was insane, and she had every intention of making him suffer, particularly since she knew Ryder would be taking care of his wounds after she was finished with him.

"It's time to go downstairs. Ryder, bring the boy. Kitty, bring up the rear. I don't want them getting any ideas," Rachel ordered. She glided effortlessly to the back of the room where she pressed gently against one of the glass panels. It slid away to reveal a hidden doorway. She continued through it, followed by Rory, Ryder, and Kitty. The door closed behind them, locking them in darkness.

After a while, Rachel stopped, seeming to have hit a wall. She pressed into another panel that slid away, revealing a spiral staircase. The stairwell was lit by electric sconces on the walls. She began to descend, the other three slowly following her. Aside from their footsteps, the only other noise was a slight giggling coming from Kitty as she danced her way behind them. Neither Rory nor Ryder knew who was more insane—Kitty, or Rachel.

When they arrived at the bottom of the stairwell, they passed through an archway and down a short passage before yet another slide-away panel. Rory had to wonder why they bothered with the panels at all since there seemed to be no security whatsoever to them. The hall opened out into a large room that was lit by harsh white lights. Stainless steel tables stood on one side, a cloth covering one of them. The cloth was lumpy, obviously hiding something underneath. At the back of the room were shackles on the wall.

"Ryder, remove all but his underwear. I don't want his nicer clothes getting blood on them," Rachel ordered casually. Reluctantly, Ryder led Rory up to the nearest table, meeting eyes with him.

"I'm so sorry," the incubus said softly, reaching forward to unbutton the boy's shirt. His upper body exposed, Ryder picked him up and sat him on the edge of the table. Rory felt like he was at the doctor's office, preparing for an examination. His caretaker removed his shoes and socks, then reached forward to unbutton the boy's pants. He shuffled them off and then neatly folded everything and set the items up on the table. He steeled his jaw shut, trying not to show the emotions he was feeling, but his tears betrayed him.

"Good. Now, I want him against the wall," the banshee instructed. Without waiting for Ryder to encourage him, Rory stepped up to the wall and leaned against it, shivering at the cold metal against his bare skin. Ryder took one of the teen's wrists and lifted it, pulling a shackle from the wall and latching him in place. He did the same with the other wrist, and then he knelt down before him. Ryder adjusted Rory's feet so they were spaced about a foot apart and latched his ankles to the wall as well. It looked like a bastardization of the crucifixion.

"Ryder, you'll be sitting in the chair over there," Rachel said, pointing to a large chair off to the side. The incubus didn't argue but merely sat down, allowing Kitty to strap his wrists and ankles in as well. "I don't need you trying to interfere."

"Just wait Ryder, this is going to be so much fun to watch," Kitty cooed in his ear as she pulled the last buckle closed. "His blood will pour and his screams will be music to our ears. My loins quiver just thinking about it!"

A troll of a man, entered the room as if on cue. He was balding with deep olive skin and a doctor's uniform, except it was a shade of brown rather than white. He stopped at the table with the cloth and then faced his mistress.

"Ah, Figgins. Perfect. I expect everything is as I asked?" the banshee inquired, addressing the man.

"Yes, ma'am. Everything is laid out for your enjoyment as requested. I also have the proper cleanup tools for when you are finished. I will see to it that nothing is left unclean," the trollish man answered in a thick Indian accent.

Rachel merely smiled and stepped forward to the table. She pulled the cloth away to reveal various implements, most of them sharp. Her eyes gleamed at the sight of the items. The first item she picked up resembled a horse's bit without the strap. She took it in her hand and approached her captive.

Kitty sat on the edge of the empty table across from the one holding implements, her eyes bright and her smile inhumanly excitable. She was already running her hands over her body, obviously aroused by the scene.

"Here. Bite on this, you'll be thankful for it momentarily," Rachel cooed, placing it between Rory's teeth. She returned to the table where she gazed over the various tools, dragging out the dread the most she could. She would only get this satisfaction once – the fear of the entire episode beginning. Once she started, the anxiety would dissipate and become pure terror.

Ryder was again in tears when he saw Rachel pick up a knife. It was small, the size of a pocket knife, but much sharper and shinier, with a smooth edge as opposed to serrated. Rory gulped, his eyes transfixed on the blade she held in her fingertips.

"Don't do this," he pleaded between the bit and his teeth. The woman showed no emotion as she placed the tip of the blade in the palm of his right hand. He tried to summon forth any bit of energy he could into his hands, but something was subduing his abilities. He deduced that it must have been something in his food, a dampening agent like he had been given upon his arrival—most likely added by the wheelchaired man, Kitty, or Rachel herself. Had it been Ryder, he would have seen it in his mind earlier.

Rachel licked her lips and then slowly dragged the edge of the blade across his palm, a bright red line forming and beginning to ooze quickly.

Rory bit down on the bite so hard he thought it might break in his mouth. The growl escaping his throat was primal and angry, scared and hurt. The pain seemed to magnify as the woman before him licked the wound, the blood flowing down her throat and into her stomach.

"Mmm, it's like… like liquid gold," the woman cooed, closing her eyes and savoring the taste. "Perfection." Satisfied, she moved to the other side, making an equal cut in his other palm, eliciting a slightly weaker yet still primal sound from the boy. Again, she licked the wound, the heat of the life force traveling to her insides.

Rachel stepped back, observing her victim. Streaks of red covered his palms, but the blood wasn't flowing freely. Not the way it soon would be. She returned to the table, making her next decision. When she turned around and revealed the chosen implement, Rory's eyes widened in newfound horror, his body sweating and heart pounding harder than ever as she approached him.

Rory's screams echoed through the entire room and into the hallway, up the stairwell, and into the main chamber. It didn't take long before the bit dropped from his mouth and he was crying out in agony, begging the woman to stop. His vision was hazy, tears streaming down his cheeks. Blood ran from various places on his body, every new wound another source for the insane banshee to imbibe from.

The screams of the leprechaun were soon joined by the orgasmic squeals of Kitty as she plied her supple breasts, popping them out of her dress. While one hand worked the tender flesh of her nipples, the other tended to her wet orifice between her legs. Just seeing the very act was enough to make Ryder want to vomit. Even in his worst days never did he find arousal by torture, and witnessing Kitty in a sexual frenzy as she gazed at the scene was infuriating and disgusting all at once.

Shock finally took over and allowed Rory to pass out just as Rachel finished her final cut. Figgins handed her a handkerchief for the woman to wipe her mouth daintily as if she were merely leaving a tea party. "Clean this up," she said simply, dropping the fabric napkin into Figgins' outstretched hands. "Come, Kitty," she added. The woman and her assistant strolled out of the room, Kitty giggling like a schoolgirl.

Just as Figgins removed the latches from around Ryder's limbs, the man stood up and shoved the little troll backward. "Fuck off, Figgy," Ryder hissed angrily. "I have work to do."

Figgins snarled at him but left the room willingly, ready to return when the human was taken back to his holding room.

As soon as Kitty and Rachel re-entered the throne room, they heard the sound of a loud boom and felt the shaking of the room. A bomb.

"Mistress?" Kitty asked worriedly.

"They've survived and come for him,' Rachel said casually. "You know what to do. See to it that everything is taken care of. Since somebody didn't die in that crash, we'll have a little fun with them. Kill whom you must, but keep Sam alive. I want him to see his broken toy before I end him right in front of the boy's eyes. After all, since he's here I may as well get some unexpected fun out of the deal."

Kitty beamed happily. "As you wish!" she cheered, practically dancing out of the room. Rachel watched her leave before sitting down on her throne. It was only then that she allowed a look of slight concern to cross her features. The blood she had drunk was warm inside of her, tingling throughout her body, but she wasn't feeling the exact sensations she had expected. It worried her, and now was definitely not the best time for things to not be going as planned.