Fight on Undaunted: Chapter Twelve - part 2

Aug 26, 2011 23:00

Read part 1.

Kelly looked at him, confused.  “He’s a vampire.  Why... why wouldn’t you?” 
Human and animal, Eric reminded himself.  Of course she’d help out her own.
On the table beside her, the big male made a faint noise.  "No!" she gasped as the werewolf went still.  "Oh god, you killed him!"  Her sobbing became a hysterical screaming that rivalled Ginger's. 
In the cage, the teenager sat up, rubbing his head.  The first thing he saw was his dead packmate, then Kelly screaming on the table, the blood all over the floor, and finally Eric smiling coldly at him. 
"Oh fuck," he whispered.
"Sums it up perfectly," Eric agreed, bending down beside the cage, and the boy shrank back.  "Tell me your name."
"Um," the boy stammered.  "Um, um, um... Ryan.  Ryan Hanson."  Ryan had gotten as far away from Eric as the chain around his neck would let him. 
"Well Ryan Hanson, if you prove useful to me, you might live longer."  Eric had bent down low enough so he was able to look Ryan straight in the eye, even though glamouring didn't always work on shape shifters.  Easier just to threaten them.  And Ryan looks pretty threatened. 
"Tell me how many wolves came with you tonight."
Ryan looked at him in terror.  "It was just us.  Shane figured you'd know where Russell had gone.  Nobody else knew we were sneaking off."
"Shane is the one now missing his foot?"
Shane's blood covered the floor; a grim river of red had entered the cage.  Ryan touched the blood tentatively and then looked at the dead werewolf.  "I can't believe you killed him," he said.
"Believe it, Ryan.  He wasn't helping me and so I killed him." He motioned to the still screaming Kelly.  "Kelly was more useful and she's still alive."
Ryan swallowed nervously, struggling to meet Eric's fearsome gaze.  He was trembling badly.  "What do you want to know?"
"How many wolves are at Russell's house?"
"Ten stay close to the slave quarters.  The others just come back when they want to get some V," he said after thinking for a moment.  "So... maybe forty?"
"And they've all been taking this vampire's blood?"
"Yes." 
With Godric's blood running through them, they'd be incredibly strong, though that would depend on how much they'd taken.  If there were forty werewolves, they'd have to be sharing very nicely amongst themselves.  The animals had been very strong after drinking just a tiny amount of Russell's blood, but Eric didn't doubt that they would have taken a lot more from Godric.
"When did you last drink from him?"
The boy grimaced, already knowing that his answer might end his life.  "Two days ago."
Kelly abruptly stopped her screaming.  A lucky break for Ryan as Eric became distracted enough by the sudden silence to stop from ripping Ryan's head off.  That would have just added to the mess and Ryan might still prove useful.
"Forty werewolves on V around Russell's house," Pam surmised from the corner of the room.  "With Godric chained up."  She crinkled her nose.  "Too easy."
Eric looked back to Ryan.  "She has a point."  He smiled, making sure the boy could see his fangs.  "Is there something you're not telling us Ryan?"
Ryan shrugged helplessly.  "No!"
Eric considered all the information he had so far.  He already knew the layout of Russell's house and knew exactly where the slave quarters were located.  He knew how many werewolves there were and he knew how dangerous they were.  But none of these answers explained how Godric had arrived there.
"Who brought Godric to Russell's house?
The boy blinked.  "Who's Godric?"
Eric reached through the bars, snarling furiously, fully intending to rip the boy's leg off.  The boy was shrieking something and Eric had to force himself to pay attention.   
"I don't know!  I don't know, he was just...  He was just... there."
Same thing Kelly had said.  But someone must have put him there.
Russell had said something to Bill.

He is the one who is mad.  Speaking to phantoms.

Filled with dread, Eric stood up slowly.  How had he known?

You will regret this.
Maybe. But right now it feels fucking good.

Russell knew.  Russell had planned this; he did it, or he'd organised for someone to do this in case anything happened to him.  He's brought Godric back somehow.
Pam grabbed him by the arm and spun him around to look at her.  "Eric," she said sharply.  Shaken out of his thoughts, he gave her a confused look. 
She pushed him towards the stairs.  "Go clean up the other wolf upstairs.  I'll finish up down here."
She went back over to Kelly, and Eric heard her fangs snick out. 
He walked up the stairs and Kelly cried out.  "No, wait, you said you wouldn't hurt me!"
"I said I wouldn't hurt you," Eric said dispassionately, not bothering to look back.  "I didn't say anything about Pam hurting you."  He shut the door behind him.
Eric felt weariness tug at him.  The sun would be up soon.  His shoulders slumped, and he knew he wouldn't be able to fight it off today.  He tried to focus, willing his feet to obey his muddled mind.
He sat at a table, staring at the hand and the tattooed skin.  He reached out and traced over the black lines with his fingertip, just as he use to.  For centuries, just before daybreak, he had touched this tattoo, following the pattern just as he was now.  Eric closed his eyes, remembering, his fingers still running over the tattoo, perfectly following the lines. 
The sun was up.
He opened his eyes and found Pam watching him.  He lifted his head.
"I killed the girl," she said bluntly.  "I let the one in the cage live.  For now."  She glanced over at the remains of the werewolf, her ruined shoes beside his head.  "I see you cleaned up." 
 Eric just nodded, not really hearing her, his fingers still moving over the lines of the tattoo.  Pam continued to watch him, her lips pursed. 
She touched the bit of skin that had part of the red brand tattoo on it.  Instantly, Eric brought his hand down on her wrist, crushing the bones.  She shrieked in pain. 
A thousand years later, and it's still ingrained in me to never touch the red brand on Godric's skin.  He looked at her in alarm, realising what he'd done.  "Pam, I'm sorry, I just-"
"Buy me something really expensive tomorrow to make up for it," she interrupted, pulling her arm back painfully.  "Really expensive." 
Now that he was paying attention, she asked him flat out:  "Are we sure it's actually him?"

You will regret this.

You make me bleed, my child.

"It's Godric."
She frowned.  "Do you think Sophie-Anne was involved somehow?"
It hadn't occurred to him that Sophie-Anne might be involved.  It was possible; the vapid Queen knew a fair bit about supernatural creatures, though Eric didn't credit her with enough knowledge of magic to know a spell that could bring a dead vampire back to life. 
She’s extremely manipulative, true, but I can’t see what she would gain by having two vampires in her queendom that are older than she is.
"I think it was Russell alone," he said slowly.  "He's older, smarter... angrier."
"But how?"
He watched as her wrist mended.  "I have absolutely no idea."  She was right; it would have to be something expensive.   "I've never heard of anything like it."
“Something must have gone wrong.”  She flexed her hand, testing.  "It should be impossible."
"I know."  He looked back down at the severed hand.  “I didn’t see.... he commanded me to leave.”
Pam stared at the hand too, frowning thoughtfully.  "Okay.  You sleep, I'll organise.  We'll go at sunset."
He looked back down at the hand.  Pam pulled him away from the grim mementos, and he protested, reaching out to touch them again.
"No," she said gently.  "Wait for him."

... 
Winter.  1845 AD.  Spain.

Eric propped himself up and ran a finger along Godric's back, over one black line and then the next.  By now it was an centuries old ritual between them, but it was still as comforting as ever.  Sighing softly, Godric smiled, sleepy and content.
Even though he knew the answer, he leaned over to whisper in his Maker's ear.  "You like that?"
Godric's body shook as he chuckled.  He lifted his head slowly, his messy hair hanging in front of his eyes.  He flicked it back and gently kissed the corner of Eric's smiling mouth.  He let his forehead rest against Eric's.
"I could not get to sleep if you did not run your fingers over me, my Child."
As Godric pressed up against him, Eric marvelled at how calm and happy his Maker was.


pam, flashback, eric, violence, part 2, godric, werewolves

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