Of Blood and Brooms - Chapter Four
Of Blood and Brooms
Chapter Four
Numb was the only thing he could feel, which was good he supposed, since the alternative was a pain so deep he thought he might drown in it. He wasn’t certain if he was crying anymore, since he wasn’t sure that the human body was capable of crying constantly in the first place, but every now and again he had noticed that his eyes were dry. When he was awake he was numb, when he was asleep he would dream, something that was infinitely worse.
In dreams, Minho was always there, warm and pleasant. On a good night, he would remain that way, and Jinki would receive a few moments of peace upon awakening before reality sunk in. On a bad night, Minho would die before his eyes, savagely torn apart by something unknown, and Jinki would wake with tears running down his face.
Either way, in wakefulness or sleep, what he did never mattered. The looks of pity from family and friends who either thought Minho was simply his best friend or knew the truth didn’t help. No matter what anyone said, no matter what anyone did, nothing could make it better.
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He wasn’t supposed to be listening, that much he knew for certain, but he hardly cared what he was supposed and not supposed to do anymore. The one thing his grief had brought him had been control where he had had none. For the first time, Jinki was able to turn invisible at will and hold it as long as he chose. He didn’t know the real reason why he suddenly could do so and he honestly didn’t care to, but shortly after he discovered it, he found he could walk right through spells designed to divert prying ears and eyes or any other sort of ward his mother had used so far. Even more useful was the fact that he could turn anything he was touching invisible as well.
It was through this that Kibum and Jinki ended up standing invisibly beside the spice rack, across the kitchen from his mother as she talked with one of her friends who was also a witch.
“You are certain?” his mother asked, as if she couldn’t believe what she had been told.
“I’m certain. ChanMi is able to see what has happened. She went to the ally where the murder happened and watched the past. The young one was attacked by a vampire,” her friend answered.
“How can there be a vampire here?” Jinki’s mother asked and he could hear a hint of fear in her voice.
“I don’t know. They are crafty,” her friend answered and Jinki had heard enough. He togged at Kibum’s hand and indicated they were leaving, then led the way as the crept from the kitchen to his room. Once in the safe confines of his room, Jinki let his ability go, and they flickered back into sight.
“What are you going to do?” Kibum asked, his voice harsh with anger.
Jinki, on the other hand, was feeling the cold calculating type of anger that might be arguably more dangerous. When he spoke his voice had a hard edge to it he had never possessed before, “I’m going hunting.”
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They weren’t foolish enough to run off after a predator without carefully planning first. “A rash witch is a dead witch,” Jinki’s mother had always told him and so they had taken the time they had needed to prepare.
There wasn’t a chance that they could have kept their preparations or plans a secret from Taemin or Jonghyun, and they hadn’t bothered to try. It was nice, Jinki knew, to have friends who understood, friends who knew what he was and felt the need to act just as strongly as he did. In this, as in the games of his childhood, they were his greatest allies.
Taemin was a fountain of information on the subject and although they didn’t know what information was completely correct and they could hardly ask, he had more than enough for them to sort through. Everything from television shows he had watched to ancient looking volumes of text in the library that he had read, were dug through for information, all complied onto pieces of paper in his hand writing or Jonghyun’s.
The more ridiculous ideas, such as vampires sparkling in sunlight which seemed highly unpractical and improbable for any predator, were tossed out immediately. All others were tacked to the wall of Taemin’s study that they had turned into their home base. Taemin’s parents simply though he was off on another of his ‘supernatural flings’ as his mother called them, and even went so far as to grab him a guide to vampire hunting they found in the book store.
Kibum had become a master potion maker in short order, since although he wasn’t the best in the world, he was the only one in their group who wouldn’t kill them with what he created. From the moment they met in the morning until they went home sometime late in the evening, if they went home at all, he was working on one or multiple batches of something. Some were substances that could be consumed for various effects, speed, strength, healing, even one that claimed to make them repulsive to vampires. Others were for external use and intended to be thrown, the potions able to activate on contact. There were shields, disguises, and even one that claimed to melt vampires.
Jinki spent most of his time flitting back and forth between one group to another, helping where he could. He didn’t know if he would ever consider them ready enough to try it, but if they were ever going to, it was going to have to be soon. It had been three months since Minho had been brutally attacked and although they didn’t know much about vampires for certain, they did know that it could leave at any moment and they would never find him and that was unthinkable.
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They were ready, he knew they were. The box of potions, identical under all four of their beds, sitting directly beside a bag loaded down with every weapon that might work against their enemy, meant they could hardly do more to be prepared. Now all they had to do was wait for a good time to go vampire hunting.
Jinki tried to focus on his homework and not what he would much rather be doing, as his pencil tapped impatiently against his paper. It was as if he was trying to force his brain into a mold that it didn’t want to fit into, but his mother would hardly allow his grades to slip simply because he had decided there was something so much more important. It wasn’t as though she didn’t understand, she was familiar with grief herself, but she would never have approved of what they were planning.
The knock at his door was soft enough that he nearly didn’t hear it over his tapping, and when he turned and saw his mother’s face he wished he hadn’t. “Jinki,” she said softly. “There has been a terrible car accident. The paramedics tried, but I’m sorry they lost him.”
The pencil fell from his fingers as they froze, “Who?” he whispered.
“Taemin. I’m sorry baby,” his mother murmured. She kept talking, he could hear the sound of her voice but her words were no longer making any sense in his mind. His eyes stared blankly down at the words on his page until they began to swim with tears that he didn’t know he had left.
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He whimpered and fought to open his eyes, uncertain of where he was, but knowing where he no longer wanted to be. His mind tried to process the difference between his dreams and his memories. Both he knew were very real, but somehow he knew his memories of the past weren’t true. Taemin wasn’t dead, he had seen him, talked to him, played with him. They had been playing a game of hide and seek like kids when it had happened. Something important, he knew, but he couldn’t remember what.
The wetness against his lips was back and he knew he shouldn’t want it, shouldn’t taste it, but he parted his lips anyway, letting the liquid drip in. It came with a voice, a voice that a part of him knew would come with it, crooning softly into his mind familiar and warm, ‘Sleep.’ For that voice he would do anything, even face the dreams of his memories, and he closed his eyes letting the darkness take him again.
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They were lucky there was no one in the small park, for the rate at which Kibum was currently breaking potion bottles against a large tree would surely be dangerous. Jinki felt that perhaps he should be doing something to stop him, but instead he continued handing him a steady stream of the small glass bottles, carefully avoiding the ones that would surely make everything explode or catch things on fire.
“I can’t believe,” Kibum snarled, pausing long enough to whip a bottle forward and listen to the satisfying shattering of glass. A wisp of green smoke drifted up from its impact then nothing more. “That that bastard would rather go to some relative that he hates then come with me!”
“We’ll be in this together, he says,” Kibum threw another one that did nothing but fizz after shattering. “I’ll be there for you whenever you need me, he says,” another bottle met its end. “Don’t worry I’ll take care of you, he promises,” the next bottle missed the trunk and landed in the grass behind it and Jinki made a mental note to go retrieve it later. “Let’s fuck it will make you feel better, he tells me.” Kibum released a particularly frightening noise as he released the bottle in his hand and Jinki wondered just how safe it was to be anywhere near the witch at the moment.
“I don’t think he said that,” Jinki muttered. He knew Jonghyun better than that. If anything had happened between the pair, which given the circumstances of loosing Minho and now Taemin, he wouldn’t have been surprised if something had, it would have been mutual.
“It was implied,” Kibum held out his hand for another bottle and Jinki dutifully placed one there.
“He doesn’t want to hurt you,” Jinki tried.
“Then he should suck it up and come with me!” Kibum snarled.
Jinki said nothing, having heard everything it was that Kibum wasn’t saying. It was now, after the loss of not one but two of their friends, that Kibum needed one of the few people he had let in, one of the ones that was close to him with him. Not only that, but Jonghyun held a piece of the other young man that no one else could, and Jinki knew that whether Kibum wanted to admit it or not, he needed Jonghyun for more reasons than one.
He didn’t have words to comfort his friend, especially when he himself hadn’t found any comfort recently. Jinki reached into the box and deliberately reaching for one that would make a much more satisfying explosion and held it out, “Here.”
Kibum accepted the bottle, looking at it for a moment then at Jinki. Jinki didn’t say anything, just offered him a nod of permission. An animalistic snarl left Kibum’s mouth as he turned and hurled the bottle at the tree and as they watched it exploded, Jinki was saddened that this was all they could do.
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A year ago he had never thought he would be standing on a doorstep of a witch he didn’t know with all of his possessions beside him in a box and two suitcases. Then again a year ago he would have been curled up with the love of his life trying to figure out how they were going to work out spending the rest of their lives together or something equally romantic. Now he was here, nearly clear across the country standing on the doorstep of what was supposed to be a fresh start and a new look at things. Although with Kibum beside him, he wasn’t sure how well that was going to go, but at least they were together.
A ring of the doorbell and a man opened the door. He was tall, and clearly foreign, but when he spoke, his Korean was clear enough to be understood. “Come inside,” he said simply, holding the door open and standing out of the way. He didn’t offer to help and Jinki didn’t want it anyway. Together the pair gathered their things and carried them into the house.
The door clicked shut behind them with a finality that he found he hated and they followed the man through the entry way to the living room. Waiting there, was a young woman and a young man. Both looked eager with an edge of excitement, and Jinki tried to fake a smile of greeting for them, although he was certain Kibum didn’t bother.
“This is Jessica from America, and Henry from Canada,” the man introduced, gesturing to each. “I’m Hankyung. And you are?”
It was likely that he already knew who they were since he was certain his mother had talked to this man on the phone more than once. Kibum was the first to reply. “Key,” he said simply, using a name Jinki hadn’t heard in a long time. Maybe it was the use of the name that Kibum hated that spurned him to do it, but when he opened his mouth to say his name what fell from his lips was the word, “Onew.”
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Waking up was different then it had ever been. He had never been someone to sleep for a lengthy period of time, wanting to use as much of the day as possible, but he imagined if he ever had, it would have felt something like this. The grogginess wore off as he opened his eyes, but he let them take the moment they needed to focus, looking only above himself to the ceiling. Patterns danced across its surface in a way that he was certain were caused by the soft light of a few candles.
His eyes focused on them while he assessed his body. He was certain he had been asleep for a rather lengthy amount of time, but his body didn’t feel heavy as he thought it should. It felt charged and able to do anything he asked of it, which was strange given what he was fairly certain he remembered happening.
He remembered the bite, now that he was awake, yet the side of his neck didn’t hurt in the slightest. Of course he could be dead, but since he fully expected that to be a bit of an exciting experience, he rather hoped he was still alive. The dreams had been vivid, drawn from old memories replaying in his mind exactly as they had happened, but nothing recent. He had, he discovered, no indication of how long he had been wherever he was and that didn’t bother him as much as it probably should.
The longer his eyes were open, the more awake he was becoming and he realized a part of him was waiting for that soft crooning familiar voice to speak to him again. He had heard of the human mind doing all sorts of things when faced with a near death experience but this was cruelty that he was being exposed to by his own body. Some things should simply be off limits for the mind to bring up.
Onew sighed, and turned his head, hoping to see something of where ever he was and found that there, sitting beside him and watching him was who he thought his mind had made up. The strength of the jaw; the piercing eyes even if they were glowing red instead of their true color; the hair, longer then it had been, but still unmistakably his; the length of the legs, carefully arranged so they were just touching, all told him exactly who it was. Onew would have had to have lost all of his senses to have missed who it was that was on the bed with him, and even then he was certain he would have known.
“Minho,” he breathed and the eyes watched him, focusing on his face. There was something animalistic there that wasn’t a part of the Minho he knew, but somehow Onew wasn’t afraid of it.
Cold fingers closed around his wrist and began lifting it slowly. Minho’s lips parted and he saw a flash of fangs that were out of place yet still didn’t scare him as he thought they should. The process was slow, Minho’s grip unbreakable but lifting slowly, as if asking for permission although nothing else of him betrayed that idea. Onew wouldn’t have stopped him if he could, in face he would have offered his neck if asked, because it was Minho and for the man he thought to be dead, he would do anything.
The bite of fangs into his flesh hurt, but it was soothed away by a swipe of a tongue that sent tingles up his arm. He probably should be a bit more concerned about the feeling of his blood slowly leaving his body, but it was a sluggish process, no more then what a small needle would have released from him and even the vampire’s lips that continued to suck forth more, didn’t seem to bother him. They watched each other, as if unsure, and Onew didn’t know what to think.
He had imagined feeding a vampire would have to be pleasant at some point, otherwise people like Ryeowook would never sign up for it, but he didn’t feel pleasure, at least not in the intensely sexual sense. It was a bit disappointing to him to find out that fact, although he had no idea why, but at least it didn’t hurt. Onew wondered if vampire bites felt different. Perhaps if he allowed another vampire to bite him it would feel different then Minho’s.
‘Mine!’ The ferocity of the voice in his mind startled him and brought him out of his thoughts. Minho’s eyes were glowing brighter then they had been and the vampire looked angry, angrier then he had been a moment ago at least.
“Minho?” Onew questioned softly, not certain he had heard anything at all.
‘Mine,’ Minho’s voice murmured, quieter this time yet no less possessive. ‘Mine. Only.’
“I’m yours Minho,” Onew reassured him. “I’ve always been yours.” He moved to sit up and Minho’s head lifted from his wrist and he growled. Onew froze and immediately Minho began to drink again.
‘Stay,’ his voice in Onew’s mind said. It was commanding but at the same time sounded frustrated that more could not be said.
“I won’t go anywhere,” he promised, reaching out and touching Minho’s head lightly with his free hand. He felt more then heard the frustration and irritation coming from the vampire and followed by a deep need. Onew didn’t know what to do but he had to do something.
Minho pulled away from his wrist, licking at the punctures in a way that sent tingles up his spine until they stopped bleeding. When he released his wrist, Onew brought it closer so he could look at it in the dim light. The twin puncture marks were already a light pink and healing. Surprised he looked up and found Minho watching him carefully.
“It’s almost healed,” he murmured, very likely needlessly. Then, “Did you get enough?”
He couldn’t read anything from the expression Minho gave him and he couldn’t feel a thing within him from the vampire. Minho must have realized this as well because a soft growl emitted from his throat and a more familiar look fell on his face. It was distorted in some ways, but still unmistakably his look of frustration.
“I can’t hear you,” Onew mused out loud. “Do we have to be connected by blood for that?” Even when Minho had been drinking from him, he had only been able to manage words and feelings, nothing more than that. Perhaps the location of the bite mattered.
Onew sat up slowly, waiting for Minho to protest, but the vampire simply watched him as he shifted. “I want to talk to you,” Onew muttered. That wasn’t the only thing he wanted, he knew. He wanted to touch Minho, to know if he was real, to hold him and be held, but he had no idea what the vampire would put up with. He couldn’t deny this was still his Minho, but he also couldn’t deny that the man in front of him was something more than the man he remembered.
He thought of moving forward but before he could do so, Minho lifted his own arm and bit into it. The whole action was so quick that it startled Onew. Humans simply couldn’t move that rapidly and he was fairly certain Minho hadn’t even moved as quickly as he would be able to.
Blood beaded up from where Minho’s teeth had pierced his own skin and he carefully held his wrist towards Onew. He wasn’t certain what he was supposed to do with that, but the way the vampire looked at him made him willing to do just about anything. Onew had hated it when Minho had been angry or upset and the vampire was clearly bothered by something.
He leaned forward, trying to ignore the way his stomach flopped a bit at the sight of blood and what he was fairly certain he was supposed to do with it. His eyes closed and he found that it was a bit easier to let his tongue dart out and taste the liquid, pretending it was something other than it was. It was tangy and bitter, not unbearable, but laced with power that even a human would have felt. ‘Blood,’ Minho’s voice said carrying a note of that frustration and urging as if trying to communicate something.
Onew lifted his head and opened his eyes to look at the vampire. He wasn’t certain he wanted more than one lick of it no matter what Minho wanted him to do. “I don’t really drink blood,” Onew muttered, just in case Minho needed to be reminded.
The wrist, with the blood slowly forming red stains upon it, lifted slightly and Onew took a deep breath before swiping over Minho’s skin with his tongue. It wasn’t any worse than last time, and didn’t taste exactly like human blood did since the time when he had bit his tongue and bled for nearly a minute it had been thoroughly disgusting, but that didn’t mean he wanted to sit here and suck at it. ‘Binding.’
The word was strange and he pulled away from the wrist, wiping his lips with the back of his hand to get any of the remaining blood off. He certainly wouldn’t mind being bound to Minho, no matter what sort of creature the man was now Onew would never be able to deny the fact that he loved the man still. Somehow he didn’t think that is what Minho meant, since he was fairly certain this wasn’t the first time he had drunk the vampire’s blood. He pushed that particularly unnerving thought out of his mind as he tried to riddle out what Minho was trying to tell him.
“Binding,” he muttered, then released an exasperated noise. “You can’t talk in sentences can you?” Onew asked, more to himself then for any real answer. Minho looked as though he was getting even more irritated and Onew reached to touch him lightly. The vampire watched him as his fingers traced the familiar lines of his palm, and Onew was thankful that the blood on Minho’s wrist was barely flowing anymore.
“Remember when my mom said we didn’t love each other because of that stupid spell we did? That we just loved each other because we did?” Onew mused. There was a noise from Minho that was strange and Onew looked at him for a moment. “What? You do remember that spell don’t you?”
Minho’s hand jerked free of his hold and thrust suddenly in front of his mouth, nearly startling him backwards. Hesitantly he leaned forward and licked a bit of the blood off the vampire’s wrist. The moment his tongue touched the bitter substance he heard the deep, ‘Yes!’ that echoed through his mind.
Several things clicked at once and Onew’s eyes widened. “Blood Binding. The Blood Binding Spell. You can only talk to me through the blood.” The anger in Minho lessoned and Onew watched him. He had been able to say a word and communicate feelings when drinking Onew’s blood and the same when Onew was drinking his, but maybe they could do more if they did it at the same time. “I have an idea,” he muttered.
He could feel Minho watching him as he moved closer to the vampire. If they were going to try this, he might as well try all of his ideas at once. Onew shifted closer, careful not to move too fast around Minho, but the vampire held still and watched him until he had settled in Minho’s lap with his back to the vampire’s chest. Slowly he leaned back, putting his back against Minho’s chest and his head against the strong shoulder, leaving his neck bared as an offering to the vampire.
The sharp inhale of the creature that didn’t need to breathe was nearly as startling to him as the sudden arm that wrapped around his waist, pulling him back tighter against the vampire’s firm body. Minho didn’t need to breathe, since vampires never did, but he was panting against Onew’s neck in a way that should probably make him a bit more afraid then it was. “Bite me,” Onew offered, “and we can talk.”
Minho needed no other invitation, and fangs sank into the side of his neck. It hurt just as much as the bite to his wrist had, if not more, but just like that one, the tongue soothed away the pain. The feeling of his blood leaving his body wasn’t gone and he tried to ignore it as he lifted Minho’s bloody wrist to his mouth. He had to actually use some suction before he could taste anything but as soon as he did he could taste the tiny trickle of bitterness on his tongue.
‘So smart, my Jinki,’ Minho’s voice in his mind was proud and then followed by a surprised satisfaction.
“This is going to be annoying if I have to keep moving your arm to talk,” Onew murmured, doing just that before going back to what he had been doing.
‘Don’t talk,’ Minho told him, warm and proud. ‘Just listen.’ Onew stayed silent, indicating his willingness to do that. He was more than content to hear a voice that sounded more like the Minho he had known then what he had heard yet, and he was reluctant to give up even a moment of that. ‘Sorry you hurt. Pleasure comes with practice and I have none,’ Minho tried to explain. Onew knew that something about that wasn’t quite right, but he accepted the explanation for what it was.
‘You have questions. I will show you,’ Minho’s voice was gentle and a moment later Onew was filled with thoughts and feelings that were not his, memories that belong to Minho and he could do nothing but close his eyes and allow them to wash over him.
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“I’ll kill him,” Hankyung growled lowly.
“I would really think you were beyond the killing part of this whole thing already,” Heechul snapped.
“He’s been drinking for a half hour. He will drain him dry no matter how slow he drinks,” Hankyung responded.
“Clearly you never did a Sharing with the vampire that addicted you, although I’m not surprised,” Heechul’s expression softened for just a moment.
“What is a Sharing,” Key asked when it was clear Hankyung wasn’t going to.
“It is when a vampire can share thoughts and memories with whoever they are connected with. It takes both participants drinking at the same time if it is a lengthy one, so that the human or whomever the vampire is Sharing with does not die from loss of blood. Vampires use it to testify happenings on occasions since only the truth can be shown, but usually it is done between lovers,” Heechul explained.
Key sneered, “Vampires can’t feel love. They don’t take lovers; they just use people until they are through with them.”
“Can’t they?” Heechul asked simply.
“No,” Key reaffirmed, looking to Hankyung for confirmation. “They can only mimic emotions.”
“Our hunger is real. Our anger is real. Our drive is real. Our lust is real. Then why can our love not be real as well?” Heechul mused.
“Because nothing good can come from an abomination,” Key growled.
There was silence for a moment and then Hankyung was the one who spoke very softly, “Love isn’t always good.” Key didn’t know what to say to that, but he couldn’t stand to stay here and watch any longer. Without another word he turned and walked off deeper into the mansion.
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He could feel eyes on his back. They felt threatening, but nowhere near a predatory as they should if it was a vampire standing in his doorway. Perhaps it was a false sense of security that kept him working on his homework, or something else, but he didn’t turn around to greet the person darkening his bedroom door.
“I don’t know how you stand it here,” Key’s voice rang clearly from the doorway, confirming who he thought it had been.
“It is a bit easier when you don’t hate the people that live here,” Jonghyun replied, erasing the second half of his work to his math problem.
“Things,” Key growled.
“No. People,” Jonghyun said gently. “It is true that some may be no better than animals, I know that better then you think, but the ones here are people.”
“No they aren’t,” Key muttered, “They are just imitations of people. Poor little creatures playing at being human.”
“Damn it Kibum,” Jonghyun growled, slamming his pencil down and turning so that he could face the other teen. “What bothers you more: the fact that I am happily living right here among vampires easily accessible if you would just lower your damn pride, or the fact that you know you are wrong?”
“I’m not wrong,” Key growled.
“Says the man who got suspended for a week for punching the bully who dared to call Onew a fag. Which are you Kibum, a knight or a troll, because you can’t be both,” Jonghyun said passionately. “And until you decide I don’t want to have a thing to do with you.”
“You won’t like my choice,” Key said darkly.
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Jonghyun snapped. “Now if you will excuse me, I have home work to do.” He turned his back to the young man standing in his doorway and pretended to get back to his work, not saying another word. It was another ten minutes until he felt Key’s presence disappear.
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A week spent in the depths of the vampire’s stronghold was more than long enough for Key to learn exactly where everything was. Heechul hadn’t seen fit to put any sort of restrictions on them, Key thought probably because he took amusement in seeing him avoid pretty much everything. Yet he had taken the time to find where everything was and he knew exactly where it was that his feet were carrying him.
When he knocked on the door he wasn’t surprised to see the vampire open the door with a curious look. “You are one of Heechul’s most powerful vampires yes?” Key asked without preamble.
“Yes,” the vampire replied, clearly amused.
“Then I have a request to make of you, but first you must promise to honor whatever I ask,” Key said firmly.
The vampire’s smile was dangerous, “Didn’t your mother teach you not to try and order around something that could kill you in an instant.”
“My mother was killed by your kind,” he replied not backing down. “Do you agree?”
“What is in it for me, witch?” the vampire said, leaning against the door frame.
“I would owe you a debt equal to that which you do for me,” Key replied instantly.
The vampire laughed. “You are not Fae. You are not required to honor any debt you incur. Tell me what it is you seek and then we will see if a bargain can be made.”
“I want you to do a Sharing with me,” Key said stubbornly.
For a moment, the vampire said nothing, simply looking him over, “Why would you ask for something like that?”
“I have questions that words cannot answer. Things that I have to know,” Key said boldly.
“And you hope me to answer them for you?”
“All I ask you to do is show me the truth about who you are.”
“Let him in Yesung,” a quiet voice called from inside and the vampire stiffened.
“Ryeowook, I wasn’t even considering it,” the vampire seemed suddenly upset.
“He is searching and needs to know,” the voice continued, “let him in.”
The vampire, named Yesung, opened the door fully and stepped aside to allow Key to enter the room. He stepped inside, the door closing softly behind him, and found the owner of the voice sitting on the large bed in the corner of the room. It was one of the students that he recognized from school, one that he knew to be a Pet to the vampires. A sheet barely covered the modesty of the young man and he seemed unbothered by his otherwise nakedness.
“You understand what you will see if you do a Sharing with Yesung?” Ryeowook asked him. Key nodded. It was easier to respond to someone who was human then to the vampire. “He can’t control what you see.”
“I’m counting on that,” Key agreed. If it couldn’t be controlled, then the vampire couldn’t pick and choose what he saw. There would be no way to cover the truth.
The vampire moved onto the bed behind Ryeowook and kissed his bare shoulder with a gentleness that almost surprised Key. The young man, consciously or not, leaned back into the vampire as he continued to watch Key. “And he will know you as well, if you choose to do a true Sharing.”
Key swallowed. “Have you done a Sharing with him?”
“Yes,” Ryeowook answered simply. “There is nothing we do not know of each other.”
“I’m sure,” Key said firmly. Ryeowook nodded and the vampire frowned.
In a communication that Key clearly could not see, Ryeowook tilted his head to the side and the vampire’s fangs sank into his neck. He sighed breathily, a sound expressing nothing but pleasure and the vampire drank deeply for a minute. When he was finished he pulled away and smoothed his tongue over the punctures until they had all but disappeared. Ryeowook turned his head and the pair shared a deep kiss that made Key feel as though he should look away.
He was acutely aware of the intimacy between the pair and the distinct lack of clothing, yet he knew he could see much more personal stuff then that during what he was asking. “Alright,” the vampire growled as he pulled his mouth away from Ryeowook’s, and Key sincerely hoped that the red on Ryeowook’s lips was just from being kissed.
“Come here,” Ryeowook said softly, beckoning him forward. Key walked forward with more courage then he thought he might actually have.
“Take off your shirt,” the vampire ordered and Key froze at the edge of the bed.
Ryeowook, likely seeing the flash of fear, scowled back to the vampire. “Your collar will get in the way. Yesung may need to drink from you for a long time and it would bother him.”
“He can drink from my wrist,” Key insisted.
“No,” Ryeowook corrected gently. “It has to be a spot closer to the brain. It has to be your neck. You can drink from his wrist since you just need his blood so that you don’t get weak from loosing yours.”
“This won’t turn me?” Key asked, narrowing his eyes.
“No, one drink does not turn you and a hundred won’t against your will. Besides you are a witch. I do not believe you could be turned,” Yesung muttered, clearly not thrilled.
“But Ryeowook could be,” Key pointed out.
Yesung looked irritated, and Key tried not to watch Ryeowook’s hand that settled on the vampire’s thigh to calm him. “Yesung doesn’t give me his blood when we do a Sharing. We never do a long enough one for him to need to, but for what you want, it could take a considerable amount of time.”
Key’s hesitation must have been the final straw for the vampire because he growled, “Do you want to do this or not?” The witch swallowed and nodded, trying to ignore the idea of having a less then happy vampire biting him, and pulled his shirt over his head as he had been told.
“Come sit between us,” Ryeowook said gently, scooting sideways a bit so that there was room on the bed for him to squeeze in. A part of him prayed that Ryeowook wouldn’t leave him alone with the vampire no matter how well feed it seemed. “It won’t hurt when he bites you,” Ryeowook said when he was settled. That was part of what Key was afraid of.
The vampire opened his mouth and Key caught a flash of fangs before they pressed in the vampire’s own wrist. Blood beaded up as soon as they were removed and the vampire held it to him. “Start drinking.”
Revolting was the nicest word that came to his mind, but Key closed his eyes and brought the wrist to his lips. He had to do this. He needed to know and he knew he would be able to trust nothing but this. This vampire and his Pet would have no reason to lie to him and show him the best of anything. He didn’t know them, and even Ryeowook hardly knew him. Although he felt less then safe, it made them the perfect choice. The first taste was strong, not completely repulsive, but certainly nothing he wanted to grow accustom to. By the second swallow he was certain he could handle it for as long as he need.
Key expected the bite to come when fangs pressed into his neck, but he didn’t expect the pleasure that shot through his body straight to his groin. He had heard stories about vampires whose bites were better than sex and the humans that sought them out simply for that fact. A strangled noise left his throat and he heard Ryeowook murmur, “It’s alright, it’s just what happens when he bites someone. He can’t turn it off but you won’t feel any of the extra things he can do after that.” Key had no idea what he was talking about, but he didn’t really want to know.
He had a moment to think of possibly how unwise this had been and then the thoughts and memories hit him, drowning him in them and he couldn’t do anything but hang on and watch them. With them, much to his surprise, came a wave of emotion, and he let it sweep over him as he tried to take it all in.
Chapter Five
Masterlist
AN: So a portion of this was not in the original plan or even the revised plot plan.... My little SHINee muses were grinning at me and I suppose that should have been enough warning for me, but then they go and pull this out on me, leaving me wondering where exactly that came from. lol. Oh well it still does what I wanted and I don't think it is a bad addition, although I will leave that up to you as readers to decide. One of my big side projects is finished and you will all be able to see that in early March I think, so that has given me a bit more time to write this again and somehow I don't think I'm going to be able to avoid this growing large on me.... why muses? why?
Chapter Four
Numb was the only thing he could feel, which was good he supposed, since the alternative was a pain so deep he thought he might drown in it. He wasn’t certain if he was crying anymore, since he wasn’t sure that the human body was capable of crying constantly in the first place, but every now and again he had noticed that his eyes were dry. When he was awake he was numb, when he was asleep he would dream, something that was infinitely worse.
In dreams, Minho was always there, warm and pleasant. On a good night, he would remain that way, and Jinki would receive a few moments of peace upon awakening before reality sunk in. On a bad night, Minho would die before his eyes, savagely torn apart by something unknown, and Jinki would wake with tears running down his face.
Either way, in wakefulness or sleep, what he did never mattered. The looks of pity from family and friends who either thought Minho was simply his best friend or knew the truth didn’t help. No matter what anyone said, no matter what anyone did, nothing could make it better.
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He wasn’t supposed to be listening, that much he knew for certain, but he hardly cared what he was supposed and not supposed to do anymore. The one thing his grief had brought him had been control where he had had none. For the first time, Jinki was able to turn invisible at will and hold it as long as he chose. He didn’t know the real reason why he suddenly could do so and he honestly didn’t care to, but shortly after he discovered it, he found he could walk right through spells designed to divert prying ears and eyes or any other sort of ward his mother had used so far. Even more useful was the fact that he could turn anything he was touching invisible as well.
It was through this that Kibum and Jinki ended up standing invisibly beside the spice rack, across the kitchen from his mother as she talked with one of her friends who was also a witch.
“You are certain?” his mother asked, as if she couldn’t believe what she had been told.
“I’m certain. ChanMi is able to see what has happened. She went to the ally where the murder happened and watched the past. The young one was attacked by a vampire,” her friend answered.
“How can there be a vampire here?” Jinki’s mother asked and he could hear a hint of fear in her voice.
“I don’t know. They are crafty,” her friend answered and Jinki had heard enough. He togged at Kibum’s hand and indicated they were leaving, then led the way as the crept from the kitchen to his room. Once in the safe confines of his room, Jinki let his ability go, and they flickered back into sight.
“What are you going to do?” Kibum asked, his voice harsh with anger.
Jinki, on the other hand, was feeling the cold calculating type of anger that might be arguably more dangerous. When he spoke his voice had a hard edge to it he had never possessed before, “I’m going hunting.”
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They weren’t foolish enough to run off after a predator without carefully planning first. “A rash witch is a dead witch,” Jinki’s mother had always told him and so they had taken the time they had needed to prepare.
There wasn’t a chance that they could have kept their preparations or plans a secret from Taemin or Jonghyun, and they hadn’t bothered to try. It was nice, Jinki knew, to have friends who understood, friends who knew what he was and felt the need to act just as strongly as he did. In this, as in the games of his childhood, they were his greatest allies.
Taemin was a fountain of information on the subject and although they didn’t know what information was completely correct and they could hardly ask, he had more than enough for them to sort through. Everything from television shows he had watched to ancient looking volumes of text in the library that he had read, were dug through for information, all complied onto pieces of paper in his hand writing or Jonghyun’s.
The more ridiculous ideas, such as vampires sparkling in sunlight which seemed highly unpractical and improbable for any predator, were tossed out immediately. All others were tacked to the wall of Taemin’s study that they had turned into their home base. Taemin’s parents simply though he was off on another of his ‘supernatural flings’ as his mother called them, and even went so far as to grab him a guide to vampire hunting they found in the book store.
Kibum had become a master potion maker in short order, since although he wasn’t the best in the world, he was the only one in their group who wouldn’t kill them with what he created. From the moment they met in the morning until they went home sometime late in the evening, if they went home at all, he was working on one or multiple batches of something. Some were substances that could be consumed for various effects, speed, strength, healing, even one that claimed to make them repulsive to vampires. Others were for external use and intended to be thrown, the potions able to activate on contact. There were shields, disguises, and even one that claimed to melt vampires.
Jinki spent most of his time flitting back and forth between one group to another, helping where he could. He didn’t know if he would ever consider them ready enough to try it, but if they were ever going to, it was going to have to be soon. It had been three months since Minho had been brutally attacked and although they didn’t know much about vampires for certain, they did know that it could leave at any moment and they would never find him and that was unthinkable.
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They were ready, he knew they were. The box of potions, identical under all four of their beds, sitting directly beside a bag loaded down with every weapon that might work against their enemy, meant they could hardly do more to be prepared. Now all they had to do was wait for a good time to go vampire hunting.
Jinki tried to focus on his homework and not what he would much rather be doing, as his pencil tapped impatiently against his paper. It was as if he was trying to force his brain into a mold that it didn’t want to fit into, but his mother would hardly allow his grades to slip simply because he had decided there was something so much more important. It wasn’t as though she didn’t understand, she was familiar with grief herself, but she would never have approved of what they were planning.
The knock at his door was soft enough that he nearly didn’t hear it over his tapping, and when he turned and saw his mother’s face he wished he hadn’t. “Jinki,” she said softly. “There has been a terrible car accident. The paramedics tried, but I’m sorry they lost him.”
The pencil fell from his fingers as they froze, “Who?” he whispered.
“Taemin. I’m sorry baby,” his mother murmured. She kept talking, he could hear the sound of her voice but her words were no longer making any sense in his mind. His eyes stared blankly down at the words on his page until they began to swim with tears that he didn’t know he had left.
▪▫▪☼▪▫▪
He whimpered and fought to open his eyes, uncertain of where he was, but knowing where he no longer wanted to be. His mind tried to process the difference between his dreams and his memories. Both he knew were very real, but somehow he knew his memories of the past weren’t true. Taemin wasn’t dead, he had seen him, talked to him, played with him. They had been playing a game of hide and seek like kids when it had happened. Something important, he knew, but he couldn’t remember what.
The wetness against his lips was back and he knew he shouldn’t want it, shouldn’t taste it, but he parted his lips anyway, letting the liquid drip in. It came with a voice, a voice that a part of him knew would come with it, crooning softly into his mind familiar and warm, ‘Sleep.’ For that voice he would do anything, even face the dreams of his memories, and he closed his eyes letting the darkness take him again.
▪▫▪☼▪▫▪
They were lucky there was no one in the small park, for the rate at which Kibum was currently breaking potion bottles against a large tree would surely be dangerous. Jinki felt that perhaps he should be doing something to stop him, but instead he continued handing him a steady stream of the small glass bottles, carefully avoiding the ones that would surely make everything explode or catch things on fire.
“I can’t believe,” Kibum snarled, pausing long enough to whip a bottle forward and listen to the satisfying shattering of glass. A wisp of green smoke drifted up from its impact then nothing more. “That that bastard would rather go to some relative that he hates then come with me!”
“We’ll be in this together, he says,” Kibum threw another one that did nothing but fizz after shattering. “I’ll be there for you whenever you need me, he says,” another bottle met its end. “Don’t worry I’ll take care of you, he promises,” the next bottle missed the trunk and landed in the grass behind it and Jinki made a mental note to go retrieve it later. “Let’s fuck it will make you feel better, he tells me.” Kibum released a particularly frightening noise as he released the bottle in his hand and Jinki wondered just how safe it was to be anywhere near the witch at the moment.
“I don’t think he said that,” Jinki muttered. He knew Jonghyun better than that. If anything had happened between the pair, which given the circumstances of loosing Minho and now Taemin, he wouldn’t have been surprised if something had, it would have been mutual.
“It was implied,” Kibum held out his hand for another bottle and Jinki dutifully placed one there.
“He doesn’t want to hurt you,” Jinki tried.
“Then he should suck it up and come with me!” Kibum snarled.
Jinki said nothing, having heard everything it was that Kibum wasn’t saying. It was now, after the loss of not one but two of their friends, that Kibum needed one of the few people he had let in, one of the ones that was close to him with him. Not only that, but Jonghyun held a piece of the other young man that no one else could, and Jinki knew that whether Kibum wanted to admit it or not, he needed Jonghyun for more reasons than one.
He didn’t have words to comfort his friend, especially when he himself hadn’t found any comfort recently. Jinki reached into the box and deliberately reaching for one that would make a much more satisfying explosion and held it out, “Here.”
Kibum accepted the bottle, looking at it for a moment then at Jinki. Jinki didn’t say anything, just offered him a nod of permission. An animalistic snarl left Kibum’s mouth as he turned and hurled the bottle at the tree and as they watched it exploded, Jinki was saddened that this was all they could do.
▪▫▪☼▪▫▪
A year ago he had never thought he would be standing on a doorstep of a witch he didn’t know with all of his possessions beside him in a box and two suitcases. Then again a year ago he would have been curled up with the love of his life trying to figure out how they were going to work out spending the rest of their lives together or something equally romantic. Now he was here, nearly clear across the country standing on the doorstep of what was supposed to be a fresh start and a new look at things. Although with Kibum beside him, he wasn’t sure how well that was going to go, but at least they were together.
A ring of the doorbell and a man opened the door. He was tall, and clearly foreign, but when he spoke, his Korean was clear enough to be understood. “Come inside,” he said simply, holding the door open and standing out of the way. He didn’t offer to help and Jinki didn’t want it anyway. Together the pair gathered their things and carried them into the house.
The door clicked shut behind them with a finality that he found he hated and they followed the man through the entry way to the living room. Waiting there, was a young woman and a young man. Both looked eager with an edge of excitement, and Jinki tried to fake a smile of greeting for them, although he was certain Kibum didn’t bother.
“This is Jessica from America, and Henry from Canada,” the man introduced, gesturing to each. “I’m Hankyung. And you are?”
It was likely that he already knew who they were since he was certain his mother had talked to this man on the phone more than once. Kibum was the first to reply. “Key,” he said simply, using a name Jinki hadn’t heard in a long time. Maybe it was the use of the name that Kibum hated that spurned him to do it, but when he opened his mouth to say his name what fell from his lips was the word, “Onew.”
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Waking up was different then it had ever been. He had never been someone to sleep for a lengthy period of time, wanting to use as much of the day as possible, but he imagined if he ever had, it would have felt something like this. The grogginess wore off as he opened his eyes, but he let them take the moment they needed to focus, looking only above himself to the ceiling. Patterns danced across its surface in a way that he was certain were caused by the soft light of a few candles.
His eyes focused on them while he assessed his body. He was certain he had been asleep for a rather lengthy amount of time, but his body didn’t feel heavy as he thought it should. It felt charged and able to do anything he asked of it, which was strange given what he was fairly certain he remembered happening.
He remembered the bite, now that he was awake, yet the side of his neck didn’t hurt in the slightest. Of course he could be dead, but since he fully expected that to be a bit of an exciting experience, he rather hoped he was still alive. The dreams had been vivid, drawn from old memories replaying in his mind exactly as they had happened, but nothing recent. He had, he discovered, no indication of how long he had been wherever he was and that didn’t bother him as much as it probably should.
The longer his eyes were open, the more awake he was becoming and he realized a part of him was waiting for that soft crooning familiar voice to speak to him again. He had heard of the human mind doing all sorts of things when faced with a near death experience but this was cruelty that he was being exposed to by his own body. Some things should simply be off limits for the mind to bring up.
Onew sighed, and turned his head, hoping to see something of where ever he was and found that there, sitting beside him and watching him was who he thought his mind had made up. The strength of the jaw; the piercing eyes even if they were glowing red instead of their true color; the hair, longer then it had been, but still unmistakably his; the length of the legs, carefully arranged so they were just touching, all told him exactly who it was. Onew would have had to have lost all of his senses to have missed who it was that was on the bed with him, and even then he was certain he would have known.
“Minho,” he breathed and the eyes watched him, focusing on his face. There was something animalistic there that wasn’t a part of the Minho he knew, but somehow Onew wasn’t afraid of it.
Cold fingers closed around his wrist and began lifting it slowly. Minho’s lips parted and he saw a flash of fangs that were out of place yet still didn’t scare him as he thought they should. The process was slow, Minho’s grip unbreakable but lifting slowly, as if asking for permission although nothing else of him betrayed that idea. Onew wouldn’t have stopped him if he could, in face he would have offered his neck if asked, because it was Minho and for the man he thought to be dead, he would do anything.
The bite of fangs into his flesh hurt, but it was soothed away by a swipe of a tongue that sent tingles up his arm. He probably should be a bit more concerned about the feeling of his blood slowly leaving his body, but it was a sluggish process, no more then what a small needle would have released from him and even the vampire’s lips that continued to suck forth more, didn’t seem to bother him. They watched each other, as if unsure, and Onew didn’t know what to think.
He had imagined feeding a vampire would have to be pleasant at some point, otherwise people like Ryeowook would never sign up for it, but he didn’t feel pleasure, at least not in the intensely sexual sense. It was a bit disappointing to him to find out that fact, although he had no idea why, but at least it didn’t hurt. Onew wondered if vampire bites felt different. Perhaps if he allowed another vampire to bite him it would feel different then Minho’s.
‘Mine!’ The ferocity of the voice in his mind startled him and brought him out of his thoughts. Minho’s eyes were glowing brighter then they had been and the vampire looked angry, angrier then he had been a moment ago at least.
“Minho?” Onew questioned softly, not certain he had heard anything at all.
‘Mine,’ Minho’s voice murmured, quieter this time yet no less possessive. ‘Mine. Only.’
“I’m yours Minho,” Onew reassured him. “I’ve always been yours.” He moved to sit up and Minho’s head lifted from his wrist and he growled. Onew froze and immediately Minho began to drink again.
‘Stay,’ his voice in Onew’s mind said. It was commanding but at the same time sounded frustrated that more could not be said.
“I won’t go anywhere,” he promised, reaching out and touching Minho’s head lightly with his free hand. He felt more then heard the frustration and irritation coming from the vampire and followed by a deep need. Onew didn’t know what to do but he had to do something.
Minho pulled away from his wrist, licking at the punctures in a way that sent tingles up his spine until they stopped bleeding. When he released his wrist, Onew brought it closer so he could look at it in the dim light. The twin puncture marks were already a light pink and healing. Surprised he looked up and found Minho watching him carefully.
“It’s almost healed,” he murmured, very likely needlessly. Then, “Did you get enough?”
He couldn’t read anything from the expression Minho gave him and he couldn’t feel a thing within him from the vampire. Minho must have realized this as well because a soft growl emitted from his throat and a more familiar look fell on his face. It was distorted in some ways, but still unmistakably his look of frustration.
“I can’t hear you,” Onew mused out loud. “Do we have to be connected by blood for that?” Even when Minho had been drinking from him, he had only been able to manage words and feelings, nothing more than that. Perhaps the location of the bite mattered.
Onew sat up slowly, waiting for Minho to protest, but the vampire simply watched him as he shifted. “I want to talk to you,” Onew muttered. That wasn’t the only thing he wanted, he knew. He wanted to touch Minho, to know if he was real, to hold him and be held, but he had no idea what the vampire would put up with. He couldn’t deny this was still his Minho, but he also couldn’t deny that the man in front of him was something more than the man he remembered.
He thought of moving forward but before he could do so, Minho lifted his own arm and bit into it. The whole action was so quick that it startled Onew. Humans simply couldn’t move that rapidly and he was fairly certain Minho hadn’t even moved as quickly as he would be able to.
Blood beaded up from where Minho’s teeth had pierced his own skin and he carefully held his wrist towards Onew. He wasn’t certain what he was supposed to do with that, but the way the vampire looked at him made him willing to do just about anything. Onew had hated it when Minho had been angry or upset and the vampire was clearly bothered by something.
He leaned forward, trying to ignore the way his stomach flopped a bit at the sight of blood and what he was fairly certain he was supposed to do with it. His eyes closed and he found that it was a bit easier to let his tongue dart out and taste the liquid, pretending it was something other than it was. It was tangy and bitter, not unbearable, but laced with power that even a human would have felt. ‘Blood,’ Minho’s voice said carrying a note of that frustration and urging as if trying to communicate something.
Onew lifted his head and opened his eyes to look at the vampire. He wasn’t certain he wanted more than one lick of it no matter what Minho wanted him to do. “I don’t really drink blood,” Onew muttered, just in case Minho needed to be reminded.
The wrist, with the blood slowly forming red stains upon it, lifted slightly and Onew took a deep breath before swiping over Minho’s skin with his tongue. It wasn’t any worse than last time, and didn’t taste exactly like human blood did since the time when he had bit his tongue and bled for nearly a minute it had been thoroughly disgusting, but that didn’t mean he wanted to sit here and suck at it. ‘Binding.’
The word was strange and he pulled away from the wrist, wiping his lips with the back of his hand to get any of the remaining blood off. He certainly wouldn’t mind being bound to Minho, no matter what sort of creature the man was now Onew would never be able to deny the fact that he loved the man still. Somehow he didn’t think that is what Minho meant, since he was fairly certain this wasn’t the first time he had drunk the vampire’s blood. He pushed that particularly unnerving thought out of his mind as he tried to riddle out what Minho was trying to tell him.
“Binding,” he muttered, then released an exasperated noise. “You can’t talk in sentences can you?” Onew asked, more to himself then for any real answer. Minho looked as though he was getting even more irritated and Onew reached to touch him lightly. The vampire watched him as his fingers traced the familiar lines of his palm, and Onew was thankful that the blood on Minho’s wrist was barely flowing anymore.
“Remember when my mom said we didn’t love each other because of that stupid spell we did? That we just loved each other because we did?” Onew mused. There was a noise from Minho that was strange and Onew looked at him for a moment. “What? You do remember that spell don’t you?”
Minho’s hand jerked free of his hold and thrust suddenly in front of his mouth, nearly startling him backwards. Hesitantly he leaned forward and licked a bit of the blood off the vampire’s wrist. The moment his tongue touched the bitter substance he heard the deep, ‘Yes!’ that echoed through his mind.
Several things clicked at once and Onew’s eyes widened. “Blood Binding. The Blood Binding Spell. You can only talk to me through the blood.” The anger in Minho lessoned and Onew watched him. He had been able to say a word and communicate feelings when drinking Onew’s blood and the same when Onew was drinking his, but maybe they could do more if they did it at the same time. “I have an idea,” he muttered.
He could feel Minho watching him as he moved closer to the vampire. If they were going to try this, he might as well try all of his ideas at once. Onew shifted closer, careful not to move too fast around Minho, but the vampire held still and watched him until he had settled in Minho’s lap with his back to the vampire’s chest. Slowly he leaned back, putting his back against Minho’s chest and his head against the strong shoulder, leaving his neck bared as an offering to the vampire.
The sharp inhale of the creature that didn’t need to breathe was nearly as startling to him as the sudden arm that wrapped around his waist, pulling him back tighter against the vampire’s firm body. Minho didn’t need to breathe, since vampires never did, but he was panting against Onew’s neck in a way that should probably make him a bit more afraid then it was. “Bite me,” Onew offered, “and we can talk.”
Minho needed no other invitation, and fangs sank into the side of his neck. It hurt just as much as the bite to his wrist had, if not more, but just like that one, the tongue soothed away the pain. The feeling of his blood leaving his body wasn’t gone and he tried to ignore it as he lifted Minho’s bloody wrist to his mouth. He had to actually use some suction before he could taste anything but as soon as he did he could taste the tiny trickle of bitterness on his tongue.
‘So smart, my Jinki,’ Minho’s voice in his mind was proud and then followed by a surprised satisfaction.
“This is going to be annoying if I have to keep moving your arm to talk,” Onew murmured, doing just that before going back to what he had been doing.
‘Don’t talk,’ Minho told him, warm and proud. ‘Just listen.’ Onew stayed silent, indicating his willingness to do that. He was more than content to hear a voice that sounded more like the Minho he had known then what he had heard yet, and he was reluctant to give up even a moment of that. ‘Sorry you hurt. Pleasure comes with practice and I have none,’ Minho tried to explain. Onew knew that something about that wasn’t quite right, but he accepted the explanation for what it was.
‘You have questions. I will show you,’ Minho’s voice was gentle and a moment later Onew was filled with thoughts and feelings that were not his, memories that belong to Minho and he could do nothing but close his eyes and allow them to wash over him.
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“I’ll kill him,” Hankyung growled lowly.
“I would really think you were beyond the killing part of this whole thing already,” Heechul snapped.
“He’s been drinking for a half hour. He will drain him dry no matter how slow he drinks,” Hankyung responded.
“Clearly you never did a Sharing with the vampire that addicted you, although I’m not surprised,” Heechul’s expression softened for just a moment.
“What is a Sharing,” Key asked when it was clear Hankyung wasn’t going to.
“It is when a vampire can share thoughts and memories with whoever they are connected with. It takes both participants drinking at the same time if it is a lengthy one, so that the human or whomever the vampire is Sharing with does not die from loss of blood. Vampires use it to testify happenings on occasions since only the truth can be shown, but usually it is done between lovers,” Heechul explained.
Key sneered, “Vampires can’t feel love. They don’t take lovers; they just use people until they are through with them.”
“Can’t they?” Heechul asked simply.
“No,” Key reaffirmed, looking to Hankyung for confirmation. “They can only mimic emotions.”
“Our hunger is real. Our anger is real. Our drive is real. Our lust is real. Then why can our love not be real as well?” Heechul mused.
“Because nothing good can come from an abomination,” Key growled.
There was silence for a moment and then Hankyung was the one who spoke very softly, “Love isn’t always good.” Key didn’t know what to say to that, but he couldn’t stand to stay here and watch any longer. Without another word he turned and walked off deeper into the mansion.
▪▫▪☼▪▫▪
He could feel eyes on his back. They felt threatening, but nowhere near a predatory as they should if it was a vampire standing in his doorway. Perhaps it was a false sense of security that kept him working on his homework, or something else, but he didn’t turn around to greet the person darkening his bedroom door.
“I don’t know how you stand it here,” Key’s voice rang clearly from the doorway, confirming who he thought it had been.
“It is a bit easier when you don’t hate the people that live here,” Jonghyun replied, erasing the second half of his work to his math problem.
“Things,” Key growled.
“No. People,” Jonghyun said gently. “It is true that some may be no better than animals, I know that better then you think, but the ones here are people.”
“No they aren’t,” Key muttered, “They are just imitations of people. Poor little creatures playing at being human.”
“Damn it Kibum,” Jonghyun growled, slamming his pencil down and turning so that he could face the other teen. “What bothers you more: the fact that I am happily living right here among vampires easily accessible if you would just lower your damn pride, or the fact that you know you are wrong?”
“I’m not wrong,” Key growled.
“Says the man who got suspended for a week for punching the bully who dared to call Onew a fag. Which are you Kibum, a knight or a troll, because you can’t be both,” Jonghyun said passionately. “And until you decide I don’t want to have a thing to do with you.”
“You won’t like my choice,” Key said darkly.
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Jonghyun snapped. “Now if you will excuse me, I have home work to do.” He turned his back to the young man standing in his doorway and pretended to get back to his work, not saying another word. It was another ten minutes until he felt Key’s presence disappear.
▪▫▪☼▪▫▪
A week spent in the depths of the vampire’s stronghold was more than long enough for Key to learn exactly where everything was. Heechul hadn’t seen fit to put any sort of restrictions on them, Key thought probably because he took amusement in seeing him avoid pretty much everything. Yet he had taken the time to find where everything was and he knew exactly where it was that his feet were carrying him.
When he knocked on the door he wasn’t surprised to see the vampire open the door with a curious look. “You are one of Heechul’s most powerful vampires yes?” Key asked without preamble.
“Yes,” the vampire replied, clearly amused.
“Then I have a request to make of you, but first you must promise to honor whatever I ask,” Key said firmly.
The vampire’s smile was dangerous, “Didn’t your mother teach you not to try and order around something that could kill you in an instant.”
“My mother was killed by your kind,” he replied not backing down. “Do you agree?”
“What is in it for me, witch?” the vampire said, leaning against the door frame.
“I would owe you a debt equal to that which you do for me,” Key replied instantly.
The vampire laughed. “You are not Fae. You are not required to honor any debt you incur. Tell me what it is you seek and then we will see if a bargain can be made.”
“I want you to do a Sharing with me,” Key said stubbornly.
For a moment, the vampire said nothing, simply looking him over, “Why would you ask for something like that?”
“I have questions that words cannot answer. Things that I have to know,” Key said boldly.
“And you hope me to answer them for you?”
“All I ask you to do is show me the truth about who you are.”
“Let him in Yesung,” a quiet voice called from inside and the vampire stiffened.
“Ryeowook, I wasn’t even considering it,” the vampire seemed suddenly upset.
“He is searching and needs to know,” the voice continued, “let him in.”
The vampire, named Yesung, opened the door fully and stepped aside to allow Key to enter the room. He stepped inside, the door closing softly behind him, and found the owner of the voice sitting on the large bed in the corner of the room. It was one of the students that he recognized from school, one that he knew to be a Pet to the vampires. A sheet barely covered the modesty of the young man and he seemed unbothered by his otherwise nakedness.
“You understand what you will see if you do a Sharing with Yesung?” Ryeowook asked him. Key nodded. It was easier to respond to someone who was human then to the vampire. “He can’t control what you see.”
“I’m counting on that,” Key agreed. If it couldn’t be controlled, then the vampire couldn’t pick and choose what he saw. There would be no way to cover the truth.
The vampire moved onto the bed behind Ryeowook and kissed his bare shoulder with a gentleness that almost surprised Key. The young man, consciously or not, leaned back into the vampire as he continued to watch Key. “And he will know you as well, if you choose to do a true Sharing.”
Key swallowed. “Have you done a Sharing with him?”
“Yes,” Ryeowook answered simply. “There is nothing we do not know of each other.”
“I’m sure,” Key said firmly. Ryeowook nodded and the vampire frowned.
In a communication that Key clearly could not see, Ryeowook tilted his head to the side and the vampire’s fangs sank into his neck. He sighed breathily, a sound expressing nothing but pleasure and the vampire drank deeply for a minute. When he was finished he pulled away and smoothed his tongue over the punctures until they had all but disappeared. Ryeowook turned his head and the pair shared a deep kiss that made Key feel as though he should look away.
He was acutely aware of the intimacy between the pair and the distinct lack of clothing, yet he knew he could see much more personal stuff then that during what he was asking. “Alright,” the vampire growled as he pulled his mouth away from Ryeowook’s, and Key sincerely hoped that the red on Ryeowook’s lips was just from being kissed.
“Come here,” Ryeowook said softly, beckoning him forward. Key walked forward with more courage then he thought he might actually have.
“Take off your shirt,” the vampire ordered and Key froze at the edge of the bed.
Ryeowook, likely seeing the flash of fear, scowled back to the vampire. “Your collar will get in the way. Yesung may need to drink from you for a long time and it would bother him.”
“He can drink from my wrist,” Key insisted.
“No,” Ryeowook corrected gently. “It has to be a spot closer to the brain. It has to be your neck. You can drink from his wrist since you just need his blood so that you don’t get weak from loosing yours.”
“This won’t turn me?” Key asked, narrowing his eyes.
“No, one drink does not turn you and a hundred won’t against your will. Besides you are a witch. I do not believe you could be turned,” Yesung muttered, clearly not thrilled.
“But Ryeowook could be,” Key pointed out.
Yesung looked irritated, and Key tried not to watch Ryeowook’s hand that settled on the vampire’s thigh to calm him. “Yesung doesn’t give me his blood when we do a Sharing. We never do a long enough one for him to need to, but for what you want, it could take a considerable amount of time.”
Key’s hesitation must have been the final straw for the vampire because he growled, “Do you want to do this or not?” The witch swallowed and nodded, trying to ignore the idea of having a less then happy vampire biting him, and pulled his shirt over his head as he had been told.
“Come sit between us,” Ryeowook said gently, scooting sideways a bit so that there was room on the bed for him to squeeze in. A part of him prayed that Ryeowook wouldn’t leave him alone with the vampire no matter how well feed it seemed. “It won’t hurt when he bites you,” Ryeowook said when he was settled. That was part of what Key was afraid of.
The vampire opened his mouth and Key caught a flash of fangs before they pressed in the vampire’s own wrist. Blood beaded up as soon as they were removed and the vampire held it to him. “Start drinking.”
Revolting was the nicest word that came to his mind, but Key closed his eyes and brought the wrist to his lips. He had to do this. He needed to know and he knew he would be able to trust nothing but this. This vampire and his Pet would have no reason to lie to him and show him the best of anything. He didn’t know them, and even Ryeowook hardly knew him. Although he felt less then safe, it made them the perfect choice. The first taste was strong, not completely repulsive, but certainly nothing he wanted to grow accustom to. By the second swallow he was certain he could handle it for as long as he need.
Key expected the bite to come when fangs pressed into his neck, but he didn’t expect the pleasure that shot through his body straight to his groin. He had heard stories about vampires whose bites were better than sex and the humans that sought them out simply for that fact. A strangled noise left his throat and he heard Ryeowook murmur, “It’s alright, it’s just what happens when he bites someone. He can’t turn it off but you won’t feel any of the extra things he can do after that.” Key had no idea what he was talking about, but he didn’t really want to know.
He had a moment to think of possibly how unwise this had been and then the thoughts and memories hit him, drowning him in them and he couldn’t do anything but hang on and watch them. With them, much to his surprise, came a wave of emotion, and he let it sweep over him as he tried to take it all in.
Chapter Five
Masterlist
AN: So a portion of this was not in the original plan or even the revised plot plan.... My little SHINee muses were grinning at me and I suppose that should have been enough warning for me, but then they go and pull this out on me, leaving me wondering where exactly that came from. lol. Oh well it still does what I wanted and I don't think it is a bad addition, although I will leave that up to you as readers to decide. One of my big side projects is finished and you will all be able to see that in early March I think, so that has given me a bit more time to write this again and somehow I don't think I'm going to be able to avoid this growing large on me.... why muses? why?