by L. C. Davis
My tears, just like everything else, were for him.
Chapter 7
REMUS
As I sat there in the hotel room that had so recently served as the backdrop for a night of careless passion, Arthur's words sank deep into my heart's wounds and burned like acid. Tears streamed down my face on his behalf now that he had grown steely-eyed with the retelling of his own story. At first, I hadn't believed his story about running from the hunters, but while Victor clearly wasn't able to read Arthur's mind, his instincts were still very much intact and he had listened to the whole thing with a grave expression on his face.
More than that, something deep inside of me told me that Arthur's words were true. As much as that prospect filled me with horror, because it meant that everything he said Prentice was capable of was also true, it also filled me with hope because it meant that my friend Arthur really was more than just a fabrication. He was human, maybe even more than I ever had been.
"Arthur," I murmured once he took a pause that seemed a bit too long. His head hung down and his breathing was shallow. "Arthur, are you alright?" I put my hand on his shoulder and shook him gently, but he didn't respond.
"Victor, we have to get him help, please. Can't we leave him at a hospital?"
"If you want to hand him over to his family, sure," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "That would be the thing to do."
I gulped. "What about Clara?"
He hesitated. "He's not consciously lying, so if what he said about there being a way to kill the Patriarch is true, Ulric may grant him sanctuary. I need to make a call," he muttered, slipping out his phone. He paused on his way out the door and looked intently at Clarence. "You watch him," he ordered before leaving the room.
I got the feeling I was the "him."
I grabbed a washcloth and started cleaning the blood off of Arthur's face and neck. There was clearly more blood underneath his sweatshirt and the fabric stuck to it when I pulled it away to investigate. My eyes widened in horror when I pulled up his shirt to reveal the sharp lines carved into his chest. They appeared to follow some kind of pattern, but it was hard to tell under all the blood. "What the hell did Victor do to him?"
"Not much," said Clarence. "At least, not anything that phased him. It was like the kid was immune to torture no matter what Victor did. Guess now we know why."
"It's disgusting," I hissed. My fangs burned from a mixture of thirst and rage. Fortunately, the sight of Arthur in such rough shape disgusted me far too much for his blood to be much of a temptation.
"Isn’t that hard for you?" asked Clarence.
"Yeah, seeing someone I once considered a dear friend weak and drained from bloodletting is so incredibly appetizing," I said dryly, continuing to clean the wounds. Arthur moaned in his sleep.
"It would be for most vampires. You really believe everything he said?"
"Victor does, and that's good enough for me," I said, deciding not to tell him about my own instincts. Clarence didn't seem like he put much stock in that sort of thing. Hell, I wasn't even sure if I did.
"In that case, the hunters are more twisted than I ever gave them credit for," he said darkly. "He's just a kid."
"It's not what the hunters did that surprises me," I admitted. "It's Prentice. Turning on me is one thing, but Arthur worships the ground he walks on. I just can't believe he could do that to his own family."
"Hunters seem to have a pretty twisted definition of family to begin with," Clarence said, falling into thoughtful silence while I finished cleaning Arthur up as much as I could. A few moments later, Victor came back into the room. "Ulric will take him," he said triumphantly. "He'll stay in the dungeon, but he'll be safe from the hunters for the time being."
I leaped to my feet, grabbing a robe to drape over Arthur once Victor uncuffed him from the chair. Arthur was completely limp when Victor handed him over to Clarence.
"Let's move," said Victor.
As we left the hotel room and approached the elevator, there was an attendant standing there. It struck me as odd that there hadn't been one when Sebastian and I came to stay. He called the elevator for us and gave me an unnecessarily large smile as the doors opened and Clarence carried Arthur inside. It was even stranger that the attendant didn't say anything about what looked like--and was--a remarkably sketchy scene, which didn't give me much hope for the hotel's regular clientele.
"Going down?" he asked. Victor said yes, even though up wasn't exactly an option.
"The lobby, please," he clarified.
"Of course," said the man. "Thank you for staying at the Bergendorf." With that, he took his finger off the button that was keeping the doors open. Whether it was exhaustion or delirium I didn't know, but I could have sworn that for the instant before the doors slid closed, the attendant's eyes flashed gold. Not just the color gold, but an intense, unnatural molten color.
I staggered against the support bar in the back of the elevator and shook my head.
"You alright?" Victor asked, resting his hand on my shoulder.
"Yeah, just tired," I admitted, glancing up at him. "Haven't gotten much sleep, what with searching for you in your favorite drug dens and all."
He rolled his eyes. "I knew this was coming."
"Really? Seemed like your plan was never to tell me." I sighed. "We do need to talk about it, but not now. For now, getting Arthur to safety has to be our main priority."
He looked down at me with an arched eyebrow. "Who put you in charge?"
I shrugged. "If you'd rather talk about it now --"
"No," he said quickly. "Ulric needs to hear about all this first. Let's just hope Arthur's batshit crazy family doesn't get to him before we can make it to the Lodge."
"Let's," I murmured as the elevator opened into the lobby. We made it outside as quickly as possible and into Clarence's SUV. He loaded Arthur in the back and we all piled in.
"What about your car?" I asked, noticing it in the back of the lot. The dark cherry sports car was kind of hard to miss even amid a sea of other high-end vehicles.
"If they follow our trail here, maybe it'll buy us another few minutes," he said dismissively. Clarence pulled onto the road, checking the mirror every minute or so.
The ride back to the Lodge was a somber one, probably for different reasons for each of us. Victor instructed Clarence to take Arthur around back so he could meet Ulric by the infirmary's entrance since it was usually the least busy. Victor and I were to walk right through the front door to cause a spectacle.
Sure enough, a crowd flocked to us no sooner than we had made it over the threshold. "Where the fuck have you been?" Sarah demanded, stalking over to snatch me away from Victor. "Do you have any idea how worried your father and I were?"
"I've already contacted Ulric. Remus left to find me," said Victor, feigning deep shame. Seeing him put on such a convincing act with so little effort made me wonder how many times I had been on the receiving end of his deception.
"I'm sure he did," she hissed, baring her fangs. Foster and Brendan backed off a step. "Just like your brother. You really haven't grown up at all since you were a strung-out teenager disappearing with no regard for anyone around you."
I frowned. Why did she sound like she knew what she was talking about? "Sarah --"
Victor held up a hand to silence me. "No, she's right. I haven't changed." He glanced at the others, who were gathered in silence. "Is there something you need? Want to record the conversation so you can make a transcript later, perhaps?"
Brendan put his hand on Foster's shoulder and led him towards the stairs. "C'mon, Foster. Remus, come find me when you're done with the intervention," he said derisively.
"Honestly, I don't know why there's a contest at all between you and your brother," Sarah said, hands planted firmly on her hips as she stared Victor down. "Sebastian is clearly the better man. He was out looking for you all night and when I called to tell him about Remus leaving, he turned back immediately."
"You told Sebas
tian?" I asked, feeling the color drain from my face.
"Of course I did," she snapped. "Your father, too. Did you really think you'd get away with sneaking out? I invented teenage rebellion and you're a few years past due for yours."
"Since when do you care? You're the one who made it possible for me to sneak out in the first place," I reminded her.
"I care since I realized what a good thing you have going here," she snapped. "You cared so much about rebuilding trust only days go. Why throw all of that away on a junkie?"
I glanced at Victor and his look warned me against defending him. "You don't get it," I muttered, brushing past her to head towards the basement.
"The hell I don't," she said, stalking after me to grab my arm. Victor had already vanished. "You think I've never fallen for the bad boy? Trust me, it never ends well and I was the bad girl."
I yanked my arm away and turned on her. Desperate times... "Stop it! You don't get to waltz in here and start acting like you care about me just because you don't have anywhere else to go," I spat. "You're not my mother, Sarah. You may have given birth to me, but you will never be my mother, is that clear?"
I had intended for my words to anger her, but instead she looked stunned. Devastated, even. She took a step back and her heel wobbled for a moment before she caught herself. "Perfectly," she said quietly. I thought she was going to say something else, but she simply turned and walked away.
Guilt assailed me before I could even make it to the stairs, but my words had served their purpose of freeing me from her and that was all that mattered at the moment. Besides, there was no way Sarah could really be hurt. At least, that's what I told myself.
As soon as I opened the basement stairwell, I collided with Victor. He caught me and from the way he was avoiding eye contact, I knew something was wrong. "You heard, didn't you?"
"Kind of hard not to," he admitted, leading me down the stairs. "I know that must have been difficult, but you did the right thing. The less any of them know about Arthur, the easier it will be to keep them safe."
"Is that why you're letting everyone think you've relapsed?" I asked.
He went silent.
"Have you?"
"Ulric said room three would be open," he announced, entering his key code in the door. I wasn't about to let him hear the end of it, but he was right that we had more pressing concerns for the moment. I watched Victor closely to see if he looked uncomfortable now that we were in what had once been his cell, but if he was he didn't show it.
Arthur was in the bed in the next room over, the one Victor had been moved to after Sebastian had attacked him. Clarence had already set him up with an oxygen mask and removed his bloody clothes. They were in a pile on the floor and a fresh white blanket covered him.
"Is Clara coming?" I asked hopefully.
"Not yet."
Ulric's voice gave me a start. I turned around to find him watching me with a stern gaze and a disheartening yet understandable amount of disappointment. "I thought we had progressed past you running away."
"This time, it wasn't his fault," said Victor. "I called him."
Ulric's stony expression flickered in surprise before melting into disappointment. "You? I must say, Victor, I expected more from you. Running off on your own is one thing, but to involve one of your brothers?" He nodded to Clarence, who was deeply interested in some imaginary flaw in Arthur's bed railing.
I didn't miss the implication that he expected less from me than he did from Victor. Victor swallowed hard as he accepted the declaration with more sobriety than any punishment would have caused.
"I understand, Sir. But the responsibility for this is mine alone."
"We'll see," said Ulric, looking past us into the room. "Now, would someone care to tell me why there's a fledgling hunter in my dungeon?"
Chapter 8
REMUS
Victor gave Ulric the abridged version of what Arthur had told us, but it still took a solid hour. He left out a few crucial details, but knowing Victor it was hard to tell if it was deception or efficiency. Ulric took the whole thing in stride and, unlike the rest of us, didn't seem the least bit surprised as to what the hunters had done to one of their own.
"The hunters are a finite race who survive only by keeping their ranks close and interbreeding. To manage that, they have to adhere to a high standard of perfection, or at least perfection as determined by their almighty Patriarch," he explained coolly. "Anything they perceive as a flaw or weakness to the collective--being gay, for instance--is a vice that needs to be stamped out. After all, you can't make more hunters if they won't breed."
"Okay, so they're crazy fundamentalists, but that doesn't explain the torture chamber," I said.
"Doesn't it? I suppose we can always ask Arthur when he wakes up."
"If he wakes up," I said pointedly. "And if he doesn't, there's always the risk that he'll turn into a homicidal supernatural killing machine."
"Is there a type of killing machine that isn't homicidal?" asked Clarence.
Ulric sighed, waving his hand. "Clarence, please go find Clara and be discrete about it."
He nodded and seemed eager to leave. Once Ulric, Victor and I were alone, silence along with the weight of disappointment fell heavily upon me.
"You're quite sure he's telling the truth, Victor?"
"I can't go deep into his mind and I wouldn't dare to try after what I saw in the lobby," he replied. "But I can read the surface of his thoughts and his body language enough to know that he's not lying. He doesn't want to become one of them and we have the one thing he desperately needs to make sure that doesn't happen."
"And what is that?" asked Ulric.
"Sanctuary from the Family."
Ulric sighed, leaning back in his chair. "When I said I wanted this place to be a sanctuary for young LGBT supernaturals with nowhere else to go, this isn't exactly what I had in mind."
Victor smirked. "Come on, he's a baby hunter. He can't be any more trouble than Sebastian and I were."
"That's not saying much," he grumbled.
"Hey, we took Clarence in when he didn't even know who he was or what was coming after him," said Victor. "At least we know what Arthur's deal is. The hunters are coming after us one way or another. This gives us leverage."
Clara came downstairs a moment later and Sebastian followed close on her heels. Clarence was nowhere to be found. "Where's the patient?" she demanded.
Ulric stood to escort her into the room.
Sebastian stalked towards me. I had barely stood to greet him before he grabbed me by the shoulders and held me at arms' length, turning me around and examining my limbs for any signs of damage. "Are you hurt?" he asked gruffly.
"No, but I --"
"Good," he said, putting me aside.
He turned and immediately threw a punch that connected with Victor's nose before I could stop him. Blood sprayed the wall and when Victor doubled over, covering his face, crimson streamed through his fingers.
"Sebastian!" I cried, grabbing his arm to keep him from landing a second blow. It was of no use. I might as well have been trying to hold a giant down. For all intents and purposes, I was.
"That was the last straw, you fucking asshole. Run away all you want, this is the last time I bother to come looking for your sorry ass," he seethed. "The next time you put him in danger, I'll fucking kill you."
"Sebastian, stop it," I pleaded.
Victor staggered back to his feet, still covering his face. "No, he's perfectly right," he said in a stuffy voice. "I put you at risk and there's no excuse."
"You're damn right there's not," Sebastian snarled, seemingly confused by his brother's agreement.
"He doesn't know the circumstances," I snapped. "Stop being a context martyr."
"Yeah, Victor," Sebastian said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Context matters."
I knew the remark was in reference to whatever Victor, Ulric and Sebastian were keeping from me, but I didn't care. I grabbed a towel fr
om the supply room and held it to Victor's face. Clara was busy with more urgent matters and it wasn't like this was the first time Victor's nose had been broken.
Sebastian turned around and paid a little too much attention to what was going on in the room. He squinted. "Is that...Arthur?"
"Um, yeah," I said warily. "I can explain."
He stalked towards the room and I lunged to stop him, but Clarence was the one who blocked the door. When I saw the swelling forming around his right eye, I realized that Sebastian hadn't gotten downstairs without a fight.
"Move," Sebastian snarled. "Or I'll move you myself."
"Sorry, brother," Clarence said, calm but firm. "You're not touching that kid."
"The hell I'm not. He's one of them and he tried to kill us all," he snapped, giving Clarence a disgusted once-over. "I wonder what Hunter would think if he knew you were defending one of the sons of bitches who killed his family."
"If he knew this kid was also his only hope of making their deaths mean something, I think he'd be standing right alongside me blocking your ass," said Clarence.
Sebastian frowned and looked less ready to rip Clarence apart, but he certainly wasn't backing down. "What the fuck is going on?"
"Oh for the love of the moon, shut up already!" Clara screamed. Silence fell over the room again and I breathed a sigh of relief. "I'm as confused as anyone but I'm still going to do my job and to do that I need a little quiet, please."
Ulric nodded and Sebastian backed off grudgingly. He watched in disgust as Clara examined Arthur and cleaned the rest of the blood from his wounds. She finally turned back to Victor and I. "I don't understand, Clarence said he was wounded."
I jumped to my feet and brushed past Sebastian. He put an arm out that kept me from going any further than the doorway and I frowned at the sight of Arthur's perfectly healed chest. Aside from the fact that he was about forty pounds lighter than he had been before he left, everything about him was ordinary. "That's not possible. There were cuts all over his body, deep ones. Victor tortured him, there's no way he could be healed that fast."