Log in

No account? Create an account

Previous Entry | Next Entry

were_ghost and bq_x_stain

Mun’s Note: Continuation from Nightmares From The Past (Part 1)

warning: violence and attempted rape scene

Part 2

Ghost was putting the final touches on his mate’s present. It was a small jewel box made from a solid piece of wood. The drawers were cut from the main piece and hollowed out before being fit back into the side. He hoped that René would like it. He smoothed the wood plane over the surface again and just as he lifted the tool, a creeping pain pulled at the muscles near his eye. He shook it off and laid the jewel box on the workbench while he went to find some varnish. He was pulling the can down off the shelf when the pain hit him again, but this time it was much worse. A feeling of desperation that almost crippled grabbed at his chest, and in the midst of the ache the voice of his mate cried out to him.

Ghost lost his grip on the can and dropped to his haunches. His vision blurred. Something was horribly wrong. His mate was terrified. He could feel his helplessness. The were gasped for breath as he tried to hold back his wolf and the transformation. Through the haze he could see his nails lengthening, the hair on his arm growing thicker. His wolf clawed at his insides as Ghost fought to maintain control. René needed him, but he didn’t need a berserker boyfriend covered in fur ripping the town apart. Ghost needed to assert his domination over his animal and get to his mate. The were mentally forced his wolf into submission and tethered him there; the wolf snapped and growled but stayed put. He pacified his wolf by assuring him that he would let the animal free if Ghost failed to rescue René. Now to decide the best way to get to René.

Razvan moved over to cup Jeremiah’s chin, “You’ve done well, and as promised I shall reward you. I know you have craved this one for some time; take your fill while I have mine.” The vampire moved back to René’s side, “Keep him on his back. I want to watch his face.”

Jeremiah thanked his master and got to work on pulling down René’s leather pants. Again, René tried to kick Jerry away, but his legs did not obey his commands. He was helpless and tears of frustration collected in his eyes.

René’s heart felt as if it would explode as the vampire grabbed his arm and brushed his fangs over it. He was about to sink his teeth into René’s wrist when Razvan pulled back. “You smell like wolf, have you been playing with dogs? Tsk, tsk, tsk. Naughty, naughty.” He leaned in and sniffed along René’s neck to double check. “You have been in the company of wolves, it seems.” The vampire chuckled. “Hopefully, my thrall won’t prove a disappointment. It seems you are drawn to more supernatural tastes.”

“Well, no matter, whoever you have been tramping around with is not here. Perhaps when you return to him or her, they can catch my scent and know that I have taken back what is rightfully mine,” Razvan said with a slight curl of his lip. “You’ve been naughty. I shall teach you a lesson for this.” The vampire sunk his fangs into René’s wrist, making sure the human felt the pain of his flesh being pierced.

All René could do was whimper as the pain shot up through his arm. It seemed to give Razvan pleasure, for he moaned. The vampire kept his eyes locked on René and it took immense effort for René to turn his head to look away, but the vampire just moved his head back to face him.

Still holding René’s wrist, Razvan licked the wound, but there was already a nasty bruise forming where he had been bitten. With a shark-like smile, the vampire moved up the arm, tearing the fishnet material that covered René, and sunk his teeth savagely into René’s forearm.

Again, René wanted to scream, not just because he was being drained bit by bit of blood, but because Jeremiah had now succeeded in removing his leather pants. He felt his legs pried apart by Jeremiah positioning himself between them. Jeremiah’s touch repulsed René to the point that it made his stomach churn. It was more than the fact that he was drugged and dragged here, René’s very soul called out for Ghost, and it sickened him to feel someone other than Ghost touching him.

Razvan licked the latest wound and dropped the bruised arm as if it were now trash. “Spare René no consideration, Jeremiah. His body is trained to withstand vampiric whims,” he said casually, as if René were not even in the room.

“You were so naughty for leaving Doviculus. You know the penalty for abandoning your master, don’t you?” Razvan spoke with mock sweetness, brushing the sweat-drenched hair away from René’s pretty face. “Shame that you leave me no choice. You are so deliciously beautiful.” He placed a kiss upon René’s sun tattoo.

The vampire repositioned himself and turned René’s head slightly. Using his finger ring, he punctured through René’s neck, watching as the sweet blood trickled down before leaning in and drinking.

René’s body wanted to jerk as this new pain surged through him. The blade of the finger ring was cruel, and the ferocity with which the vampire drank his blood told René that Razvan was serious and meant to kill him for escaping from Doviculus.

Ghost’s stomach clutched again. He felt each of René’s pains and sensed his rising panic. The were grabbed his keys and the bike and shoved the machine into the elevator. He would turn wolf and run there except for the lack of clothes. The lift seemed to take forever to close and reach the bottom. Ghost already had the machine roaring by the time he reached the ground floor. As soon as the doors opened enough to squeeze through, Ghost was gone into the night. He followed his mate’s scent. Directions were not needed. The bike was left by the side of the house.

It didn’t take long to locate the window of the room René was in. He could smell his mate clearly and the scent of a vampire. His lip curled back in a snarl. Not willing to wait another second, the were crashed through the glass, landing in a fighting crouch on the floor. He roared his outrage, the hairs on his body bristling with barely controlled rage. His eyes flashed as he took in the scene: His mate lying on the bed half naked. That worm, Jeremiah, kneeing between his legs, and a dark creature that had to be the vampire bent over him. His arms and neck showed bites, the one on his neck still bleeding, and the terror in his mate’s eyes was more than he could bear.

The vampire jerked away from its prey, giving René a quick lick to seal the wound. It wouldn’t do to have so much precious blood wasted. The scent of the wolf reached the vampire’s nostrils and he stepped back, surprised.

Razvan ordered Jeremiah to leave the room. “This doesn’t concern you, wolf,” he said, sneering the last word as if it offended him. “This one belongs to me. Take your leave now while you still can.” It was false bravado, but Razvan would not back down from a werewolf, despite the myths that one wolf could easy destroy a vampire.

Ghost slowly rose to his full height, his muscles flexing in preparation for the coming fight. Now that the vampire was no longer feeding on his mate, he could proceed with care instead of throwing the bloodsucker up against the wall. If he did this right, there would be no doubt who René belonged to at the conclusion. "You are mistaken, bloodsucker. This one belongs to me and you have damaged him. Back off."

Razvan grabbed René by the back of his hair, causing René to shut his eyes from the pain. “Oh, you have been naughty, consorting with wolves. Tell me, do you flag for him like a bitch in heat?” He yanked René’s head back. “I should let Doviculus punish you himself for this act of defiance.” True, Razvan had picked up the scent of the wolf on him earlier, but now he was just hurting René to show dominance over the were.

Razvan narrowed his eyes. “See this tattoo here?” He pointed to the two circles on René’s left arm. “These are Doviculus, my sire’s, symbol. This one belongs to us; he has been marked. Now I will ask you one last time, fleabag, leave.”

Ghost bristled on the inside, but his outward expression calmed. The tattoo meant nothing; he and René had a connection far deeper than a than a bit of ink on skin. Hopefully, this vampire would figure that out before Ghost ended his existence. He gazed at his mate. His lover was strong; he would survive this and grow stronger. The vampire... not so much. Concentrating on his lover's face, he sent a message. 'Be strong, my love, and wait.' Ghost would get them out of this. "Your mark has no power. Your sire lost his claim the day he threw René from the window and abandoned him, and you are not your sire, vampire. Now let him go." The last was accented by a deep growl.

“Gh-oo-sst…” René strained to speak, his chest heaved as he struggled to get the word out. A tear ran down his cheek as he conveyed his thoughts to Ghost. ‘I love you, baby...no matter what happens tonight.’

“Yes, René was thrown out a window for his disobedience. It was no less than what he deserved. And Doviculus did not abandon him, he was--asked not to look for René.” Razvan said the word ‘asked’ sarcastically. “I was going to save Doviculus the trouble of punishing him, but since I found René, I shall take him back to Doviculus and see what judgement my sire shall enact on his rebellious thrall.”

“No!” René found the strength to scream that one word. To return to Doviculus was a fate worse than death. He knew Doviculus would not kill him straight away; he would torture him first. René could not endure Doviculus’s cruelty again.

Razvan pulled hard on René’s hair. “I will punish you for your insolence later, René. I did not give you permission to speak.” The vampire grinned at the werewolf, daring him to do something. “It seems we are at an impasse, then. I may not be Doviculus, but I am of his house and that means René is my property, and I will not leave without him. And it seems that you will not leave without him either. Spare yourself misery, this one is not worth your effort. Surely you can find another human to entertain yourself with?” The vampire stared the were down, but it seemed the were would not back down. “Take one more step and I will rip his throat out before your eyes.” His fangs gleamed in the dim light of the room. “I am much faster than you, wolf. Think about it.” As long as he had held René like a shield, Razvan figured he would be spared any fatal blow and could make his escape.

René gave Ghost a pitiful look, his fingers moving about languidly attempting to reach out to Ghost, but the drug still coursed through his body and he remained helpless.

Ghost had a momentary doubt. Could he rush the vampire before it could tear into René's vulnerable neck? Could he do something to distract the vampire just enough to reach his mate's side? There was something he had been holding back. The vampire thought that René was only a plaything of the werewolf. He didn't know about the tie that bound them together. René would always reject another lover in his life. He was meant only for Ghost now. As he planned how to announce the fact that René was his mate, he spoke to René. 'You must move. Just a little. Wait until I strike and then use everything you have to move. You can do it.' He filled his lover with all his reassurance and love. His muscles bunched and ready, Ghost starred down the vampire. "René is no plaything, vampire. He is my mate." The last was roared. Ghost strongly urged his mate to move as he leapt for the vampire. 'Now, baby, move.' He hoped it would be enough that if the vampire struck, he would miss René 's throat or at least do less damage.

“Mate?” Razvan considered Ghost’s words, but before they could fully register, the wolf was upon him.

René used all of his remaining strength to move away from Razvan when Ghost gave the signal. Unfortunately, it was not enough to free him from the vampire’s grip, but enough that when Razvan clamped down on René with his razor sharp teeth, it hit René’s shoulder, which was guarded by the leather straps from the gothic shirt he was wearing. This time, René did scream from the pain as the fangs ripped into his shoulder and ironically enough the leather straps were giving the vampire some resistance. Better for René’s shoulder to suffer than his exposed neck; that bite would have ended him, René was certain of it.

Razvan would not release his hold on René. He would use René as a buffer between the wolf and himself. His eyes turned crimson as he hurriedly drank down René’s fresh blood.

The angle at which René found himself allowed him to survey the room better. Yes, he was in unbelievable pain and was getting weaker from the loss of blood by the second, but he wanted to do something to help Ghost, even if it was the final act he ever did.

René spotted a lighter sitting on the nightstand, with Razvan taking so much of his blood, the drug was no longer as potent. He reached out with his free arm, his fingers scrambling to grab the lighter. Once it was secure in his hand, he flicked the top open and lit it. René knew that as long as Razvan used him as a shield, his Ghost would not dare move to attack, so René had to give Ghost the edge he needed.

Razvan was so engrossed in watching Ghost that he did not notice René’s movements. René smiled wearily at his lover and then shoved the flame into the vampire’s face.

The vampire released him, as planned, but not without smacking him hard across the face first. In a movement much too fast for human eyes to follow, Razvan hurled René across the room. The cellist’s back hit the far wall and then crashed into the vanity table. René slumped onto the floor, unconscious.

Razvan held the offensive lighter in his hand and flung it out the window, all within the same few seconds it took him to fling René across the room. “I should’ve crushed your hand so that you would never play again!” he hissed over at René’s motionless form. The wound would heal in time, but now the vampire had bigger problems to worry about than his vanity, for the werewolf was almost upon him.

The vampire had moved incredibly fast. One minute it was hauling René up in front of him, and the next he was flinging the human away from him after René had managed to find a lighter. Ghost knew his mate was smart, but there was no time to congratulate him now. There was still a vampire to deal with.

Ghost switched directions. He had been in mid-leap when he declared his claim on his mate. He pushed off the side of the bed and leapt for the back of the vampire who was looming over René menacingly. His mate was obviously hurt badly, but the were need to dispatch the vampire first. Ghost let the rage take him. He loosed his hold on his wolf so that their strength was combined but strived to hold his human form. He would face this dark creature as a man and not a beast. The were landed on the vampire’s back and jerked to the side.

Razvan felt the weight of the were hit him from behind, and he fell face flat onto the wooden floor. The vampire bucked and used his superhuman strength to get the wolf off him; lucky for him that he had just fed off René and had a little extra energy.

Razvan quickly assessed the situation. One wolf should not be that difficult to tackle, despite what the myths claimed. “Your mate, you claim? That little slut? There isn’t a vampire in Manhattan that didn’t derive pleasure from his flesh. Myself included. René is such an eager, submissive lover, is he not?” The vampire was enjoying his taunting with the werewolf. Razvan smiled a crooked grin, his fingernails grew as sharp as talons, and he lunged for the werewolf with superhuman speed.

Ghost was old enough not to be bothered by any of the vampire’s slurs. He knew about his mate’s past before they joined and it didn’t matter. René belonged to Ghost and no one would take him away. Not while the werewolf lived. Ghost positioned himself between the rampaging vampire and his unconscious mate. He would not allow René to be hurt further. “You have no idea who he is. He is too good for the likes of you.”

The wolf inside him snarled and growled at the presumptuous bloodsucker. He paced frantically, wanting nothing more than to rip the creature’s throat out. The vampire was fast, maybe a bit faster than Ghost, but the were had speed too. What he also had was power, and a lot of it. He tried to follow the dark creature, and as they met Ghost went low and lifted the vampire off his feet and tossed him across the room as he had done to René. “I can keep this up all night and into tomorrow. How about you?” He could see that the vampire had his claws out. One had caught at his shirt. If that is the way he wanted to play it, Ghost would assure him that he had the right equipment and a raw animal spirit to back it up.

The vampire replied with a snarl of its own and gracefully lifted himself to his feet. “I’m afraid my days are spoken for, so we will have to end this tonight. As for René, you are mistaken. It is you who do not know who he truly is, what he is capable of, and what he has done to keep his master’s favor. So desperate for attention, that one was, but Doviculus loved René best when René cried. So pretty were René’s tears.” Razvan swiped at the were with his claws, but it seemed the wolf had fast moves of his own. “I shall enjoy seeing his tears once I kill his ‘mate’.”

Ghost danced away from the razor-sharp talons, his moves taking them further away from René. “I care not what René did in the past. He is bond to me now and that’s all that matters.” Ghost came at the vampire from the side, knocking him into a nightstand and hopefully smacking his head against the wall. “I care for René’s tears too, but I want to wipe them all away. I care for his happiness as much as his pain, but I find that he is more beautiful when he smiles.”

Razvan did hit his head on the wall as his body connected to the nightstand. The shove from the werewolf was strong enough to leave a mark. Anger brewed up in Razvan. “You know nothing,” he exclaimed as he lunged once more for the were, fangs out, claws extended. His razor-sharp fingertips sliced through the air, connecting with Ghost’s bicep. The vampire was pleased to have injured the wolf, and a smug smile curved his otherwise cruel mouth. “I think it’s time we ended this,” he said, spotting a silver tray over by the dresser.

The vampire did not play fair. He used his speed to gather up the silver tray and make his way back toward Ghost to hit him on his back with the offensive metal. “Time for you to die, fleabag.” He raised the tray again, this time aiming for the werewolf’s head and hopefully striking his temple where it would do the most damage. Once he had the werewolf down, Razvan could easily defeat his enemy.

Ghost hissed at the cut but didn’t stop his advance. He would be careful of those nails. The strike from the tray bothered him, though less so because it didn’t make contact with his skin. The second strike, the were avoided by staying low and knocking the vampire off his feet.

The vampire did have the right of it. This must end. Ghost needed to see to René. Ghost straightened and glanced quickly around the room. The bed had short thin posts on the foot board. The were ripped one off and plunged it straight in his vampire’s chest as he made to rise. Finally freeing his own claws, he struck out across the creature’s throat.

The vampire’s dark eyes widened. He had not expected the werewolf to outsmart him. Razvan opened his mouth as if to speak, but no words came out. He slumped forward after the makeshift stake pierced him through the heart, his body reverting back into that of a dried corpse. By the time Ghost slashed Razvan’s throat, he had already suffered the true death.

There was a sort of commotion by the door and it flung open, allowing Monica and her thrall, Alfonso, to walk in. She surveyed the room and ordered Alfonso to lock the door behind them.

“What in God’s name happened here? What happened here, Stefan?” Monica asked, stepping over the broken glass. “I felt that my child was in trouble and I--” She stopped and gasped as she saw René lying on the floor motionless. She immediately knelt by his side and brushed the stray curls away from his face with a trembling hand. “My poor René, what happened to him? Did that one there do this to him?” She motioned toward the husk that was once Razvan.

Ghost straightened and wiped his hands on his jeans. He would rather not have anything of the dead vampire on him, but better that than leave the evidence in the room. "He meant to take revenge on René for leaving his master." He moved to his mate's side and carefully lifted him in his arms. "The vampire took a lot of blood from him."

“He what?! René was under my protection! This--this thing had no right to--attack my son!” Monica stood up, her brown eyes sparkling with fury. She placed a hand on René’s cheek and her expression softened. “Does René require my help? Or can you manage?” She was offering her blood to mend René, but she had learned that Ghost was something permanent in René’s life now and seeing how Ghost just easily destroyed one vampire, she was not about to rile him up by making demands.

Ghost didn't want to lose René, but he loathed the idea of Monica giving him anymore blood than was necessary. "He is weak but his heart rate is getting stronger. I need to remove him from this place and that...." indicating Razvan's corpse, "needs to be dealt with." Ghost knew that René was not ready to see his mother. The were would tell him of the occasions when Monica came to his rescue when his young human was ready. It might help to bridge the gap between them, but first he would have one more horrific memory to overcome. René was liable to stumble back a step or two after this evening. "I will care for him, and if he needs anything I can't provide, I will find help or seek your assistance." He held René close and nuzzled his damp curls. "It means a lot that there is someone else out there that is as attuned to my mate as I am."

Monica bit her lip, looking hesitant, and Alfonso placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Mistress, all due respect, Mr. Volkov is correct. René needs to be taken from here. He’s had quite a traumatic experience and if he were to wake and see you...” He let his voice trail off. “Let Mr. Volkov take René home and tend to him.” Alfonso spoke in his usual southern drawl and gentlemanly manner, but it was obvious his words carried more than just general concern. It seemed he cared a great deal for Monica.

She nodded absently and tentatively touched René’s good shoulder before stepping back. “Stefan, just call me later to let me know if he’s--how he is doing. I will worry to death if you don’t.” Monica made her way over to Razvan’s corpse. The deceased vampire seemed familiar but she could not place him. “As for this mess here, I will take care of it. Go now - I glamored the students so they won’t pay much attention to this room, but it won’t last forever.” Her heels clicked lightly on the wooden floor as she walked back over to Ghost. With a small smile, she gently reached out to touch Ghost’s arm, taking note he was injured. “Don’t forget to take care of yourself as well... and thank you, Stefan. You saved my son’s life tonight. I shall not forget this.”

Ghost dipped his head in respect to his mate's mother. He seemed to always do that. There was something about this woman, though she be vampire, that deserved respect. It could be that she was the one who kept his René alive, or maybe it was the connection, though strained, between the young man in his arms and the elegant lady vamp. "I will take care of him and inform you of his condition." Looking at what was left of the bloodsucker on the floor, Ghost remembered something. "René said Razvan, if that means anything." With that, he carried his cherished burden carefully out the door. No need to use the window this time and risk jarring René any more. The loft was far from perfect but the bedroom was finished. He would take his lover there and come back for the bike later.

Razvan! Monica’s eyes widened as did her thrall’s, Alfonso. The name was familiar and now Monica recalled exactly where she had seen this son of a bitch. It was when Paris and she had paid Doviculus a visit; this was his child. She crossed her arms angrily. Oh, Doviculus would not get away with this. And while she was still a young vampire and had little influence, Doviculus had broken his vow to Paris, who was an ancient. This would not bode well.

“Get Paris on the phone. I need to speak to him at once,” she instructed as she glanced over at the lifeless body of Razvan.




Latest Month

December 2013
Powered by LiveJournal.com