Subspecies: Bloodpact -- Chapter Seven, Part Three (last one!)

[memoriamvictus]

Subspecies: Bloodpact
Chapter 7/8
Author: memoriamvictus
Rating: R
Summary: Radu Vladislas may prove the lesser of two evils when Michelle is forced to attempt to undo the devil's deal Rebecca has made in a bid to save her soul.
Disclaimer: It all belongs to Charles Band, Ted Nicolaou, and other wonderful people who have provided me with a great deal of entertainment; I'm just playing around.
Wordcount: 10,110
Begin at the beginning.



Michelle could find them all, in the hot dark rush that scourged her veins, so intense and engulfing that it granted new senses merely so that it could be perceived. There were only a few of them here: some clustered towards the back of the building, perhaps planning to mount some sort of defense; a scant few cowered in the basement, hoping to hide; and one flickering life that glowed so brightly it hurt made its way across the grounds, choosing to flee rather than face the retribution that was sure to follow whether its master won or lost. But the effort of seeing them, knowing them, keeping the tangled skeins of life separate in her mind, was too much on top of everything else. She could not manage to fly, let alone soar; before she realized that she possessed feet once again, she was stumbling across the floor.

She spread her arms for balance, and was disoriented enough to be glad when someone took her hand and placed their own at the small of her back to steady her; she was so badly in need of reassurance that it did not greatly distress her when she realized that her companion could only be Radu. She squeezed his palm before easing her way free of his grasp, the tickle of his claws against her skin almost unbearable in her heightened state.

"I anticipate the explanation for this affray most ardently," he rumbled.

She nodded tightly, not trusting herself to speak. Though the taste of his substance had been as revivifying as ever, the roil of power was in its own way almost as overwhelming as the excruciating hunger that had driven her to... behave as she had. She felt woozy, excited, grieved, vengeful; she knew not what she might do, were she left to her own devices.

Fortunately, there was business to attend to.

For the first time in life or undeath, Michelle strode down the hallway with murder in her heart.

The need to rip and rend, to slaughter, to punish was a wild, wailing lust within her. Radu had not been correct. Her tenacious grip on her mortality had not been a constant source of sorrow and despair. Her connection to her sister had not brought capture and danger down upon her; Rebecca had not caused her nearly insurmountable trouble, however unwittingly she had done so. Michelle was not wrong.

It was merely this interloper, this outsider, this arrogant, presumptuous fool who had thought to interfere in her doings. Had it not been for his outrageous attempts to control her--and while some small part of her quailed at her own hubris, she could not imagine what manner of idiot thought to waylay a woman who had matched wits so successfully with Radu Vladislas himself--things would have gone according to plan. None of this would have befallen them. They would have succeeded.

And for the ruination of those dreams alone, he would die screaming.

Radu ghosted along behind her as she unerringly made her way to her opponent, a lean, hungry shadow. She could feel the thin tendrils of his anger pulsing against her skin; but what she could sense most of all was the feral, vicious glee with which he looked forward to redressing whatever insult he had suffered. So be it; on this night, she could share in it. Both of their wishes would be granted. He had sought so hard to make her accept what he insisted was her native savagery; on this night, she would not merely embrace it--she would revel in it.

Down the cluttered hall, her skirts flapping around her ankles, her fingers clenching and unclenching spasmodically, anticipating the time when they'd be wrapped around her enemy's neck. His presence was a burning, blackened mote in her mind, as sure and steady as the northern star; she would find him wherever he tried to flee. But it seemed as if he knew better than to try; whether laying a trap or simply cornered, he awaited their arrival just ahead.

She slammed through the swinging double doors behind the desk, heedless of what might be waiting for her; he had already tried his best to contain her and come up wanting. More junk crowded the walls uselessly, irrelevant save for the fact that it was in her way; she registered dimply that she was in an operating theater. But it was more than that: her night eyes took in the tiny details of stonework and sculpted moldings in the corners, the slight rise at the far end of the room. They stood now in what had once been a chapel. It was unsurprising, yet almost pitiable, that he continued to cling to the defenses that had already failed him.

"Nicolescu," she breathed, putting every ounce of implacable menace she possessed into the name.

He lifted his head, then, and she realized that he had been in plain sight all the while; her fury had blinded her to the evidence of her own eyes. He stood before a sink at the far wall, and turned to face her, a syringe in his hands. She tensed at the sight of it, almost wishing that he'd lunge for her; but, after sparing a glance over her shoulder, he merely set it down on the lip of the counter and folded his hands. He did not seem frightened, or even angry; the weariness in his drawn, sallow face was unmistakable, and made her grit her teeth. The least he could do was cower; remorse would be even better.

"No further brave words, doctor?" Radu growled from behind her, a sneering emphasis on the title. "No more demands?"

Nicolescu sighed, his shoulders slumping; but he ignored the taunt in favor of meeting Michelle's gaze. "I can offer no excuses," he said quietly. "I can only explain."

"You meant to bargain with her. You meant to treat my fledgling like chattel."

"I chose poorly," Nicolescu agreed, his eyes never leaving Michelle. "This need not be this way. You, I think, might be able to imagine what my research could accomplish--"

"Your research?" Michelle could not believe he had the temerity to continue in that vein after everything he'd done. "Then here's a bit of data for you, doctor: you couldn't make me hurt Rebecca. No one can. And you can't get away from this."

The shock on his face seemed genuine enough to make her pause for a half a moment, but she knew that he had undoubtedly had centuries of practice at dissembling. Even as she stalked towards him, his features smoothed, and he once more assumed the character of a man awaiting the inevitable.

The brief crack of gunfire was enough to make her start and whip her head around to determine its source, but Radu was not so easily distracted. He padded forward, angling away from her; there was now no way Nicolescu would be exiting the room the way they had entered. She forced her attention back to the situation at hand, refusing to think of what might be happening elsewhere in the building. Becky was as safe as Michelle had been able to make her; if she wasn't once Michelle had finished here, there would at least be a reckoning.

She continued to approach Nicolescu, her legs so stiff it seemed as if they obeyed some one else's directive. She wanted to leap, to cross the distance between them in an inky swirl of darkness; she could almost feel his flesh tearing beneath her nails, could practically taste the corruption of his blood filling her mouth. But she could not bring herself to do it, not quite yet. She wanted him to grovel, to beg her to spare him; she wanted him to experience some measure of the terror and humiliation he had subjected her to before she granted him the mercy of oblivion. Whatever she did to him, it wouldn't take long enough.

"Perhaps we should invite him home, pretty one," Radu crooned. She was so caught up in the moment that it no longer startled her that he divined her thoughts so easily. "As he has so kindly extended his hospitality to you, it is only meet that we reciprocate."

Her lips skinned back from her teeth of their own volition. Agreement danced on the tip of her tongue; she knew that she need only speak the word, and Nicolescu would find himself the recipient of torments she could scarcely imagine. Days, weeks, perhaps even years; an experiment of their own.

Torturing him to death.

Her stomach clenched as the reality of the situation struck home. She wanted... oh, so many things; the fact that the descent into sadism so extreme she had not imagined it even in the blackest, bloodiest intensity of her fury was one of the only ones within her grasp--

--ceased to matter at all, as Becky's ringing screams tore through the pregnant stillness.

Michelle whirled on her heel, prepared to go to Becky's aid, but a guttural snarl from Radu told her that Nicolescu had attempted something once she'd taken her eyes from him. She wasted a precious moment on indecision, torn; shouts, more screams, and a shot decided her. As she hurried back to the doors, the sound of pounding footsteps came rapidly down the hallway. But even as she reached the entrance, Becky burst through the doors, her tear stained eyed wide with unspeakable panic and blood staining her forehead; a heartbeat later something else tackled her to the floor.

Michelle threw herself into the melee with a vengeance, clawing wildly at whatever it was that had dared to lay hands on her sister. She got an arm around Becky's waist, lifting her bodily away from the frenzied attacker. Becky clung to her with strength born of hysteria as she blocked the vampire with a straight-armed shove. She couldn't figure out how to defend them without disentangling herself from Becky--but then Radu was beside her, seizing it roughly and hauling it away. He wrapped a hand around the intruder's throat, twisting his neck cruelly in preparation for some further violence.

And Nicolescu laughed.

Michelle looked up, shocked at the incongruity of the sound; Radu too was startled enough to cease his attack, though he retained a firm grip on his quarry. She turned, placing herself between Becky and the other vampires as much as she could while still keeping them in view... and Nicolescu laughed. It was a rich, full-throated sound, only mildly tinged with tiredness.

She watched with numb incomprehension as Nicolescu reached into his breast pocket and removed a small cloth. "Oh, my," he chuckled, as he removed his glasses and began to polish them. Replacing them on his face, he shook his head, grinning as if utterly charmed by the ridiculousness of the situation. "Oh, Michelle, he wanted only to help," he said with a conspiratorial smile.

"What?"

"You hungered," he replied simply. "I thought that I had broken him of such things, but, well." Nicolescu shrugged, as if admitting a trifling mistake. "A fledgling will always seek to aid its master."

Becky still clung tightly to her side; she nearly sent them both tumbling to the floor as Michelle spun to regard Radu's captive. He still struggled against Radu's grip, eyes rolling wildly as his fangs snapped in futile rage; a pale, sallow thing that seemed even less human to her disbelieving than the monster that restrained it. "You're insane!" she cried.

"I found him wandering," Nicolescu continued, as if she hadn't spoken. "I thought it better to put him to work, rather than leave him to abuse the populace." He leaned back against the counter with another shrug. "You may wish to refrain from doing him any injury, if the bond remains so powerful," he added in Radu's direction.

Unable to believe what she was hearing, Michelle's gaze darted back and forth between the seemingly unperturbed doctor and the savage, frenzied thing Radu held at bay. He behaved as if he were utterly convinced Michelle was responsible for the strange vampire, which was impossible. Even if she had not yet had a chance to put it into practice, she had learned the gruesome lesson of the previous night very well; it was written on her soul in letters of acid.

But she had not always known it.

Becky became dead weight in her arms as her vision narrowed into the precise tunnel-vision of the predator, and fixed on his face. The high cheekbones, the long, curly dark hair... she gasped, choking, as the memory set her brain afire. He'd looked much better then, so fashionable, so falsely fearsome as she lured him back to the opera for an assignation he'd only thought he'd desired; she could feel the throb of the heavy metal the night club had played in her bones as the recollection unfurled. She'd thought she'd killed him, had been so sick with grief and self-loathing that she'd spewed up most of the blood she'd stolen from him; she'd been sure she'd killed him.

And yet here he was now, a broken, crazed monster that craved her approbation so fiercely he had attempted to feed her her own sister.

"You will not ransom your spawn with lies," Radu hissed, giving the hapless vampire a brutal shake in an attempt to quell his struggles.

"No lies," Nicolescu replied mildly.

Radu's lip curled in disdain, but his gaze flicked to Michelle, and his eyes narrowed at whatever he saw in her face. She knew she should say something, but could not fathom what; her tongue felt glued to the roof of her mouth, her own disgust and shock keeping her silent. His scowl deepened, but he made no comment; with a quick, precise movement, he snapped the vampire's neck.

Michelle fell to her knees as if her own spine had been severed. She had a vague sense of Becky's legs becoming entangled with her own as she collapsed, but the wrenching sensation that overwhelmed her was too enormous for physical considerations to intrude upon. She gasped, fighting desperately for air as her fingers scrabbled against the tiles. It hadn't been like this in the alley, it hadn't been like this with the other--but this was loss, this was deprivation, this was impairment, and it took everything she had to keep from drowning in it. The hunter's tunnel vision collapsed into a hazy white wall, and she ground her teeth together as her balance deserted her. The sharp pain of her fangs shredding her lower lip was a welcome intrusion, some small truth she could seize hold of.

"Don't! Oh, God!"

"Now now," Nicolescu replied, and the fact that he could be so callous with Becky when she was so obviously terrified was enough to get Michelle to raise her head. The sight of her wrapped tightly in his arms, shaking with dread, was almost enough to galvanize her into action, but her legs would not obey her; she collapsed awkwardly onto her haunches.

Radu flung the broken corpse of her progeny aside, a trifling inconvenience, and advanced a single step before Nicolescu's fingers were wrapped around Becky's throat. "I think we are all aware that hostages are only harmed when demands go unmet," the doctor said mildly.

"Then have done with it," Radu growled, but made no further move. "You will not leave here intact."

"But I am afraid I must," Nicolescu replied, easing his way cautiously along the wall. "You may never understand the importance of what I do, but I cannot forsake it to allow you your vengeance."

"Michelle," Becky whimpered, pleading. Nicolescu's fingers tightened on her throat; Michelle staggered upright at the choked grunt her sister made in response, but stumbled to one knee.

"Only let me leave," Nicolescu continued. "I have no further use for her. She will be set free as soon as I am secure; but she must accompany me."

"You," Michelle grated, barely able to force the words past her aching jaws. "You act as if you serve some higher cause, but you're no better than a trapped rat once you're cornered."

"Even so," the doctor agreed. He had made it slightly past the middle of the room, despite Becky's feeble efforts to drag her feet. Michelle's vision swam once more as she tried to judge the distance; she could see the red prints his fingers made on Becky's neck. She was fast, but she didn't think anything was fast enough to do what needed to be done; nevertheless she gathered herself, hoping against hope that she could fly faster than Nicolescu could crush her sister's throat.

"While you indulge in distressing my fledgling," Radu interrupted, "you overlook the fact that I care not what becomes of the woman." Folding his arms behind his back, fangs bared in threat and promise, he stepped around a wheeled cart and once more began to approach.

"No!" Michelle cried, unable to countenance such betrayal; she could not have chosen a poorer savior.

"Even now, your child cries out for her," Nicolescu said, a nervous tremble in his voice. "You would see her own flesh and blood slain before her very eyes?"

"Even so," Radu repeated, his grin widening obscenely; his pace never slowed.

"Master, please!" She stretched out a hand in supplication, beseeching him with every fiber of her being. "Master..."

"Be still," he told her quietly, his eyes never leaving Nicolescu. "You are young yet, to fear such a one as this; one who could never have held you had you not been delivered unto him." Another pace; Nicolescu cringed, his grip tightening around Becky. "Some of us are weak, my pretty one; some of us are cowards, that need hide behind holy walls, lest their sins seek them out." He stopped, his chin lifting with imperious disdain. "Some of us," he hissed, "would never dare not to yield their prey to their betters."

Nicolescu's mouth hung slack; it was impossible to guess at what expression the sunglasses hid, but he faced Radu like a snake fascinated by a mongoose. Michelle watched him carefully as the moment lengthened; his fingers still dug into Becky's throat, his arm pinning her against tightly against his body. She sagged against him, dead weight, but Michelle had the unhappy suspicion that it was more sheer exhaustion than an attempt to hinder him. She shifted fractionally, gathering herself as best she could without doing anything to disturb the moment. Radu seemed to hold Nicolescu spellbound, both of them locked in some private contest whose rules she could not fathom.

It didn't matter. Nicolescu was enrapt, entirely focused on Radu... and, as Michelle watched, his grip on Becky loosened.

She lunged forward like hell unleashed, half in shadow as she flickered across the distance that separated. She distantly registered the cry of "Be still!" as her nails sank into Nicolescu's wrists, the force of her charge driving all three of them back against the wall. She did not even have time to pray that she was doing the right thing as she wrenched Nicolescu's arms apart. Becky staggered against her with a strangled croak, and Michelle could do nothing but shove her aside as Nicolescu fought back, howling in pain and rage.

He scrambled upright, trying to shove her away; her hands tightened on his wrists until she could feel the bones creak, his flesh shredding beneath her nails, but it was all she could do to hold him back. He hissed, exposing yellowed fangs, and snapped viciously at her face. She flinched away instinctively, and the shift in her balance allowed him to thrust her away.

She stumbled back, her feet tangling on something she ardently hoped wasn't Becky, but she managed to retain her grip on one of his wrists. She yanked his arm savagely, hauling him back; she scarcely knew what to do now that battle was joined, but she would be damned before she'd see him escape. But he spun with the force of her efforts, slashing her with his nails, and the sharp, raw, agony of her shoulder drove any further considerations from her mind.

She pounced on him, her weight and the strength of her leap bearing him to the floor in an unruly tangle of limbs. They thrashed wildly, both fighting for purchase, for leverage to use against the other. He dug his fingers into her injured shoulder, the exquisite torment almost too much to bear, but the purity of her rage and hatred drove her relentlessly. A swipe of her hand sent his glasses flying and laid his cheek open to the bone. She straddled him, holding him flat to the floor with one hand as she took a moment to savor the sight of his rotten eyes, the paralyzing, excruciating knowledge of impending death that disfigured his face.

Then she struck.

Her fangs tore the wizened flesh of his throat as easily as ancient parchment. He screamed as best he could, a gurgling, indistinct shout of denial as she burrowed against his neck, widening the wounds with a feral joy. His blood was as vile as she had anticipated; fever hot, yet unlike anything human, the burning copper of it coated her mouth with foulness. She forced herself to choke it down, regardless; foul as it was, this was the taste of victory.

His claws raked her back, tearing her dress and the skin beneath it to ribbons, but she paid it no heed as she savored his defeat. If this was what it meant to be a vampire, there were compensations; he would never harm her, harm Becky, harm anyone ever again, and his increasingly feeble attempts to resist were a more ample compensation than any of his other victims had ever received. Yet there was no joy in the conquest; not even the hot, revivifying rush of sustenance. Digging her elbows into his ribs, she slowly worked her hands up to his neck, fighting him every inch of the way. Never releasing the grip with her teeth, her fingers found the wrinkled flesh, wedging their way around his throat.

When his neck came apart like wet tissue, it was almost anticlimactic.

Michelle straightened slowly, blinking her eyes furiously. Her head swam, and she put a hand down to brace herself against the floor. Nicolescu's body still twitched, but only with aftershocks; dumb meat too stupid to realize yet that it was dead.

She looked down at his gore-streaked corpse, and felt nothing. No pride in the kill; no disgust at what she'd done to him; no sorrow for his passing; no pleasure in his defeat. She had simply handled things; he had pushed and pushed until she had had no other options to pursue. She regretted dimly that it had come to this, but only insofar as it was an inconvenience, a danger. She had slaughtered and devoured a creature that was so old she could scarcely comprehend it, and the only feeling she could muster was a disaffected weariness.

But she had saved Becky.

Michelle rose to her feet in a single, graceful movement, and closed her eyes at the frightened gasp from behind her. She was still hyper-aware, and that pathetic little noise sounded almost too much like the cry of her next victim to be borne. She glanced briefly at Radu, who stood motionless, his face set in grim, unreadable lines; she knew better than to look for help from that direction.

Carefully, exercising every ounce of control she possessed to make sure her movements were as weak and human as she could make them, she stepped away from Nicolescu's corpse and turned. Becky sprawled on the floor where Michelle had thrown her, propped up on her elbows; her mouth moved spasmodically, as if she struggled desperately to speak, but could not. It was all Michelle could do not to close her eyes against the sight of her sister so reduced. "It's okay now," she said quietly. Becky flinched, and Michelle reached out a hand to comfort her, but she scrambled backwards a few ungainly inches.

"It's okay now," she repeated, taking a cautious step forward. Becky scrambled away more violently this time, using the wall to haul herself upright. She crouched, her hands raised defensively, and Michelle could have wept. She stopped, her head lowered. "You're safe now, Becky," she said, but could not resist another glance at Radu as she said the words. "No one's going to hurt you."

"No! No, I--" Becky's eyes were wide and terrified, her gaze flicking around the room with frantic intensity. "I--Michelle, I--I h-have to go now," she said weakly, edging away. "I just--I have to be going."

"Okay," Michelle responded soothingly. "Okay. Let's get out of here," she said, unnerved by the blank incomprehension in Becky's eyes. "We'll go together." She extended a hand once more; Rebecca screamed, covering her head with her arms. Michelle frowned, increasingly uncertain how to proceed; it was obvious that Becky was in shock, but she could not see how to lead her to safety if she was so skittish and fearful. The she caught sight of her own wrist, and knew why Becky screamed.

Nicolescu's blood gleamed black in the moonlight, and Michelle was covered in it, greasy against her skin. Becky saw that; had seen how Michelle had gotten that way. Had their positions been reversed... had she had to watch her own sister eat someone...

...she wouldn't have screamed. Not any more; she no longer possessed the luxury of that kind of innocence. But Becky did; or had. Michelle backed away from her, grieved beyond measure that Becky finally acknowledged her as a threat.

"I had to protect you, Becky," she pleaded. "He was going to hurt you." Becky merely cowered. "It was the only way."

"Th-thanks, Michelle," Becky responded brightly, peeking out from behind her arms; there was no sanity in that voice. "But I'm, um. I'm just going to get out of here, okay?"

Before she had a chance to respond, Becky darted towards the door. Out of the corner of her eye, Michelle saw Radu tense, the instinct to chase gripping him; she turned, preparing to tackle him if he gave in to it, for all the good it might do, but his feet remained planted. She turned back to Becky's staggering flight just in time to see Nicolescu's hand snake out and encircle her ankle.

"No!" Michelle screamed, but was almost drowned out by Becky's despairing wail as she crashed to the floor. Almost too fast for the eye to follow, Nicolescu rolled on top of her, obscuring her thrashing body with his own. Michelle was already moving, her fingers curved into claws; but even as she reached out to sink them into Nicolescu's back, Radu interposed himself.

He seized Nicolescu with his left hand; Becky moaned softly, and went abruptly still as Radu hoisted Nicolescu into the air. The doctor's limbs twitched, spasms that might have been a feeble attempt at self-defense; Radu paid them no heed as he set about his gory, precise task. His long, thin fingers burrowed into what was left of Nicolescu's neck, digging, searching despite the liquid gurgles of protest. His hand clenched as he finally found what he sought; with a quick, smooth jerk, a few segments of Nicolescu's spine were unreeled, gleaming wet and gristly. Radu worked a thumbnail laboriously between two of the vertebrae; with one last, sharp squeeze, the doctor's movements stilled.

Michelle scarcely noticed; the instant she was certain she could move without interfering, she was at Becky's side, crouching beside her. "Becky? Becky, come on, talk to me!" Her head lolled loosely on her neck as Michelle slid a hand beneath her shoulders and lifted her into her lap, but her rapid, thready heartbeat gave testament that she still lived. She muttered indistinctly as Michelle stroked her face; she must have hit her head when she fell. But she quailed when she felt the wet, sticky warmth along her sister's jawline; could not stifle a horrified, heartbroken moan when her fingers found the ragged, gaping wounds in Becky's neck, Nicolescu's last ditch grab for sustenance.

"Come."

She wished she could kill him again. She wished she could kill them all. She wished she'd killed herself when she had the chance.

"Come."

Nothing would ever pay for this. Nothing would ever make it right. Becky had only wanted to help. Nothing, nothing, would ever be good enough.

"Come."

The rough jerk on her arm finally broke through her reverie; she snatched her hand back and snarled, clutching Becky protectively to her chest. Radu's lip curled, baring a fang in annoyance, but he let her be. "This is unsafe."

"Radu, he bit her!"

"Would you leave her to burn?" Shocked by the suggestion, Michelle gaped up at him. He met her stare for stare until she finally dropped her gaze, reaching up to stroke Becky's bangs. She looked almost peaceful, if one ignored the blood staining her face; something Michelle had recently had a great deal of practice in.

But Nicolescu had bitten her.

She flinched at the crash of glass as Radu turned and swept the contents of one of the counters onto the floor, but merely huddled around Becky more tightly as he proceeded to do the same service for the rest of the room. How was she going to explain this? What would happen once Becky came to? Her chin sank down against her chest. For the first time in the nights that had followed her death, she longed for the timeless oblivion of daylight; no thoughts, no emotions, no awareness. Anything. Anything had to be better than this.

The sharp smell of bleach burned her nostrils, and she finally glanced up from Becky's face. The room was a wreck of broken glassware and equipment, the floor stained with puddles of unidentifiable liquids. As she watched, Radu finished shoving Nicolescu's corpse into the center of the room, beside that of her poor, mad offspring. He met her gaze commandingly; she nodded, unable to do anything else once she realized what he meant to accomplish.

"C'mon, Becky, we're gonna get out of here, just like you wanted," she whispered, a failed attempt to disguise the catch in her voice. She slipped an arm beneath Becky's knees, and lifted her gently into her arms; Becky made no sound, not the slightest indication of wakefulness. Michelle couldn't remember what it had been like, save for the inescapable tyranny of dawn; perhaps this was perfectly normal, and she had merely been insensible while she experienced it.

Maybe.

She picked her way over to Radu, Becky no burden at all, and stood beside him, unable to look at his face; she did not think she could stand to see any expression there. She did not see how the spark was struck, but she felt the first bellowing gust of heat wash against her face as the flames leapt up, devouring the remains of the carnage; a moment later, they were gone, as if they had never been.