by Kallysten
She hadn't come to kill him however, and she wouldn't let him change her plans, going as far as to knock him down with a blow to the head so that she could tie him up to make him listen to what she had to say. She had figured out, eventually, that if she wasn't directly in front of him, in his line of sight, her words were lost to him. She had never said anything about it, never asked a question, never shown a hint of pity, but after that she had always made sure he was looking at her when she spoke. He was grateful to her more for the lack of pity than for the care she put in catching his attention.
It had only taken him seconds, once he had understood what it was all about, to agree to her proposal. He knew it would only be for a short time, knew that he wouldn't be able to save any of them, not even Catarina, but at least he'd get to see them a last time, talk to them, get a grin, maybe. A touch. A kiss. After decades of loneliness, he had started to forget their faces, their voices. Hers, too. He didn't want to, couldn't forget them. Not forget and remain sane.
To see Gabrielle, now, as she turned to Meghan, was all at once thrilling and frightening, as it had been months earlier. Because Gabrielle was the last link to Erik's past. Because she didn't give a damn that she was. And Erik couldn't let her know that he cared so much about both things.
"What do you want?"
Straight to business, then. Gabrielle was so caught up in Meghan that she didn't seem to have noticed Erik yet, even though he was only a few feet behind her. What was in her mind, to preoccupy her so?
Erik didn't need to see Meghan's lips to know what she was saying. All he needed was to watch Gabrielle's features slowly close in pain, until her eyes and fists were tightly shut. Erik had done the same, at first, had refused to hear it, so he understood Gabrielle's reaction all too well. And this was his cue to intervene. He had told the girl he would help her get Gabrielle's attention. Just her attention, nothing more. So, he pressed his horse up next to Meghan's, and tried to sound as normal as he possibly could when he said:
"How ‘bout you listen to what the child has to say before you take a nap?"
Gabrielle's eyes shot wide open, instantly looking for Erik. Surprised, obviously, to see her Childe there. But Erik couldn't see anything more than surprise—no pleasure, no annoyance either—before a light blow to his shoulder brought his attention to Meghan.
"I'm not a child, old man,” she protested with a lopsided grin.
He returned the smile, a retort already forming on his lips. After the initial fighting and tying up stage, he had come to appreciate the young woman's dry humor and realist take on life. She knew she'd never know anything other than this hellish world. She knew that, even if Erik's little trip through time fixed things, she wouldn't benefit from it at all. But she nonetheless played her part in the grand scheme of the world and did her best to help her fellow humans.
Movement on the edge of his vision drew Erik's attention back to Gabrielle in time to see her turning her horse and riding away. He frowned at that. He had expected many reactions from Gabrielle, but not this one. His eyes returned to Meghan, and he wondered what she would make of this. She had jokingly suggested that they bring rope with them. Maybe they should have.
"...don't care,” she was saying. “You turn the world into hell, you cause the death of almost every single member of your clan and—"
Erik interrupted her with a growl. “I warned you. Do not bring them into this."
Using that specific guilt wasn't playing fair, he had told her that before, and he was pissed off that she hadn't listened.
"And what do you suggest I do?” she shot back. The grin was gone, now, and her eyes were throwing daggers at him. Another thing that amused him in her, her major mood-swings without warning. It reminded him of another woman, long dead that one.
"Already told you. Tell her the facts. No need to embellish or make it hurt, there's plenty of that coming anyway."
"She would need to actually listen for me to be able to do that! What am I supposed to do when she refuses..."
These few words hit too close to home, and Erik turned his back on her, quite effectively shutting her out. She hated when he did that, and he knew it, but sometimes it was the only option she left him.
He understood, all too well, how frustrated she had to be. After all, he had been in her place, trying to talk some sense into his Sire, trying to make her see reason when he was convinced with every fiber of his being that she was wrong, that it was too dangerous to awaken ancient forces that had been dormant for ages and whose behavior was unpredictable. He had suggested that they arm the villages under their protection and teach the humans how to fight the demons that were increasingly aggressive and daring. He had even offered to do the teaching, with three more of Gabrielle's Childer who were receptive to his ideas. But Gabrielle had been completely inflexible, and had refused to even listen to his suggestions.
If he had made them before she had chased him out of her bed, he was sure she would have let him do as he pleased, and it made her refusal to listen even more difficult to accept. Had she not demanded his presence on the day of the battle, he might have left the lair with his lover days before it had happened. He disagreed with his Sire too much to continue living under her rule, and he had decided, even though it tore him apart, to ask Gabrielle's blessing in becoming a Master himself. It was tradition for a Sire to symbolically free his or her Childer when they matured enough to have a lair and Childer of their own. While he knew all that, Erik had for a long time been sure that he would remain by his Sire's side forever; she had put an end to his unvoiced dream rather abruptly.
Even now, he still didn't know what he could possibly have done to offend her, and it still hurt as much as it had that first night, when he had returned from a fight to discover his Sire had taken someone else to her bed. To what he had thought was their bed. The shock had left him numb, even more so for the fact that he hadn't expected it. Only the previous night, she had been both tender and passionate in his arms, as much as she had ever been. The change had simply been unexplainable.
When she had made her first Childe after him, Erik had been worried to lose his place as favored Childe, but when after ten more of them he had still remained her favorite, he had figured out that his place in her bed and at her side was secure. The awakening had been painful, and even Catarina, as delightful as she had been, had never completely healed this wound.
Chapter 11
+ Two hundred years earlier
Since the night he had awakened a vampire, Erik had fed after his Sire, always waiting for her to be done before he took his own share of the blood offerings. She had never requested it from him, never encouraged or discouraged him either way, but it had simply been one of the many ways he told her each day that she mattered more to him than anything else in the world.
Even now, more than a year after she had cast him aside, he continued to show respect to her that way. He doubted she was even aware of it, but it mattered to him to keep on with his decades-old tradition.
Every day, villagers came from the almost two dozens villages that had formed a Pact with Gabrielle and her clan. Those coming from the nearest village came by foot; the ones who came from farther away, by horse. They arrived at the lair from the middle of the morning to the middle of the afternoon, and offered their wrists and blood to whatever vampire wanted it. Only a few mouthfuls, not enough to hurt the human but sufficient to satisfy a vampire's hunger when combined with the demon blood they drank every so often. Fledglings had to be monitored, they often had trouble stopping once they started feeding, but as a whole it was a simple matter, and although accidental deaths were an unfortunate part of the Pact that humans were supposed to accept, no one who had come to bring a blood offering had ever died in Gabrielle's lair. She had always made it clear, to every one of her Childer, that she would not tolerate mishaps.
Aside from Erik's personal choice to only feed after his Sire, there was no set rule as to the order in which the members of the
clan fed. Whoever was awake when humans first arrived would feed then, and late risers would feed later on. Some of them had preferences, and would feed exclusively from men or women; others, usually the youngest ones, refused to feed from people who had come from the village they had lived in as humans. And then, some vampires developed affinities with particular humans, so that whenever it was that human's turn to give an offering for a village, other vampires would know to leave the human alone. Sexual encounters between vampires and humans were not unheard of, but since villages rotated their gift bearers and few humans came to the lair more often than once every two or three months, affairs were usually brief and quickly forgotten.
From where he lounged in an armchair in the common room, Erik was watching Gabrielle. She had come out of her room a few minutes earlier, and examined the handful of waiting humans before making her choice. She was feeding from a young man who couldn't have been more than the fifteen years required for gift bearers; Erik couldn't remember having ever seen the child before. It would be an honor for him to go back to his village and announce that he had been chosen by Mistress Gabrielle herself on his first trip to the lair. Erik wondered if the child would also brag about coming in his breeches at the touch of her mouth.
"She's finished,” a soft woman's voice said next to him, startling Erik so that his gaze left Gabrielle as she retreated from the common room to her chambers. “Would you feed from me, now?"
Frowning, he looked at the young woman standing by his side; taller than most, she was dressed in finer robes than the usual gift bearers wore. A merchant's daughter, maybe. Her hair was woven in a long braid that she had pulled over her shoulder, and the red ribbon that held it together hung between her full breasts. She looked amused, for some reason, and her smile lit her whole face, putting a sparkle in her brown eyes.
Erik remembered Gabrielle looking at him in this exact same way, usually before pulling him into bed. He shifted uncomfortably on his chair, trying to conceal the way his cock was filling with blood at the memory.
"You're the only one who ever waits for her to be done before you feed,” the girl continued, now thoughtful. “Why is that?"
"I don't know what you are talking about,” Erik grumbled as he sat up, hiding his shock that anyone, let alone a human who was only in the lair a few days a year, would have noticed his personal ritual.
"You are a liar,” the girl informed him primly even as she extended her arm to him.
"And you are insolent,” he replied coldly. “Show a little respect or you will be sent back without presenting your village's offering."
Her smile wavered, and she dropped her gaze to the floor. “I apologize,” she murmured, clearly chastised.
Nodding absently, he motioned for her to sit down on the stool next to the armchair. She settled down and looked up at him again, her eyes almost hopeful when she presented her wrist to him once more. He took it gently in his hand and ran a thumb over the tanned skin. No merchant's daughter would work out in the sun as she clearly did.
"Whose dress did your borrow, child?” he asked, wanting to show her that he, too, could notice things. She blushed brightly, but her voice was steady when she answered.
"A friend's."
Turning her wrist in his hand, he realized that it was clear of scars. It couldn't possibly be her first time offering blood, so she had to be giving him her unmarked arm on purpose.
"Why?"
Her blush only intensified as she misinterpreted his incomplete question. “Because I thought you might notice me if I looked prettier."
She finished in a rush, her voice no louder than a murmur, and Erik stopped himself before he could ask why she wasn't asking him to bite over the marks she already bore; she had just answered his question, if indirectly.
He didn't say another word before he gently sank his fangs into her flesh, but he held her eyes as he did so. It had been some time since anyone had shown a real interest in him, and he wanted to enjoy that feeling fully. The girl let out a small gasp as he bit, and she immediately caught her bottom lip between her teeth. He took her blood in long, slow sips, and he could feel her shudder with every one of them. He could have believed it was pain that made her tremble so, but the growing scent of arousal rising from her told another story altogether. Erik usually didn't play with humans like this, and did nothing more than feed from them. But this child had come for more, and it didn't hurt him to oblige. It didn't hurt her either, obviously.
Having taken enough of her blood, he started running his tongue over the wounds, closing them slowly. All the while, he kept eye contact with her, and reveled in the effect he had on her. When he finally released her wrist after having placed a small kiss over the tender flesh, she was breathing hard and her cheeks were flushed again.
"Thank you, child,” he said formally as was the custom, but she didn't reply as tradition demanded. Instead, she shook her head.
"I am no child, Master Erik. And my name is Catarina."
Smiling bitterly, he reached for the end of her braid and tugged the ribbon loose.
"I am no Master, Catarina. Just Erik. And I think I shall keep this until we next meet."
She looked pleased at his words, and he only realized with her grin that he had all but promised to feed from her again the next time she would come.
"In seventy three days,” she murmured as she stood and curtsied. “I will be counting."
As he watched her leave, Erik played with the short ribbon in his hand, replaying the whole encounter in his mind. She was an interesting human, full of a fire that was almost familiar to him as it resembled Gabrielle's. It was with some surprise that he realized that he, too, would be counting the days until she returned.
It was only after their fourth meeting that he took her to bed; she had been hinting at it since their second encounter. He had been reluctant because he had no interest in satisfying a child's fantasy for an affair with a vampire, but she managed to show him that she saw more than fangs when she looked at him. He grew fond of her, very much so; she had wit, humor, and a bit of a temper that he didn't dislike. But even so, he wouldn't have made her his lover if she hadn't reminded him so much of Gabrielle. He never told her as much, and, after a few more months, his fondness started growing into more than that, until he asked her to move to the closest village so she could be near him. Already, deep down, he was thinking of making her his Childe. Maybe, then, she would completely erase his Sire in his heart. Maybe, then, he would stop hurting so much.
Chapter 12
For a long moment, Erik relived his memories of happier times. Even after all these years, he still thought of Catarina very fondly; he was sure she would have made a beautiful, strong vampire, had she survived the battle. When finally a fleeting touch to his shoulder requested his attention, he gave it back without a second thought.
"What do we do, now?” Meghan asked, clearly calmer.
He shrugged, gave her a half smile. “Either forget about her completely and trust me to do the job by myself, or give her a little while to calm down and then go to her and try again. But in the end, all you can do is give her a choice. You can't force her hand. The more you push her, the more she'll resist. She was always like that."
Meghan looked uncomfortable suddenly, but before he could ask her what was wrong she said: “It's not about not trusting you, you know that, right? It's just so important..."
He nodded. “I know. No offense taken. But because it's so important, you can't decide for her, and it's not fair for you to make it hurt."
She shook her head, and he knew what she thought, for they had discussed the topic at length on their way to Gabrielle. Meghan was extremely critical of Gabrielle's decision to summon the Primal Forces without consulting other Masters or requesting the help of human warlocks more experienced with strong magic than her Childer had been. Traditionally, vampires stayed away from magic and left its art to humans; it was only one more of the rules Gabrielle had transgressed two centurie
s earlier. Erik had tried to explain Gabrielle's reasoning, even though he had disagreed with it himself, but he and Meghan had needed in the end to agree to disagree. This time though, judging by the slight shift in her shoulders, Meghan would follow his request and stop arguing.
"So, how do I find her?” she asked with a sigh.
He took her for a trek around the closest villages to give Gabrielle some time to go home and get a grip on herself. They found a couple of demons to kill, and Meghan looked, clearly caught between fascination and horror, as he fed from them. It wasn't the first time she'd seen him feed, but the act never seemed to lose her interest. She had offered him her wrist, once; he had looked at the unblemished skin, and declined with a sad smile.
He eventually led her to Gabrielle's home in the woods and made Meghan promise that she would give her the facts, only the facts, and accept her answer whatever it would be.
"You're not staying with me?” she asked, surprised.
"No. I don't think my presence would help."
As a matter of fact, he was rather sure that his presence would cause Gabrielle to refuse to listen as she had earlier, but he was in no mood to explain all of it to the human.
He hesitated for a second before riding away, though. Something in him couldn't help wishing that maybe...
"If she asks where I am,” he said quietly, refusing to meet Meghan's gaze, “tell her where to find me, would you?"
He noticed the tight pinch of her lips as she nodded, but she didn't comment. Giving her a nod of thanks, he turned his horse away and rode on, wondering what would happen, what Gabrielle would say in the end. He couldn't help hoping that his Sire would agree. As much as he wanted it, it was going to be difficult to see his clan and Catarina again and not do a thing to save them. Having someone to go through this with him would certainly help. But, as he had told Meghan, they couldn't force Gabrielle to do it. It was her choice. Just like it had been her choice to leave Erik alone in those ruins, her choice, again, to let him leave without a word a few months earlier.