This You Can Keep, 3/14. NC-17.
Title: This You Can Keep
Author: Eustacia Vye
Author's e-mail: eustacia_vye28@hotmail.com
Rating: NC-17 (language, graphic depictions of violence, noncon/dubcon and actual con)
Pairing: Ariadne/Cobb (chapter 1 only), Ariadne/Arthur/Eames
Disclaimer: Everyone here belongs to Christopher Nolan and not to me. His toys are fun to play with!
Spoilers/Warnings: Post-movie. For the
inception_kink meme prompt in round 7: Vampire!AU Ariadne is a newbie vampire hunter Cobb is training. Arthur and/or Eames are vampires.
Summary: Training with Cobb was hard, but she had expected it to be that way. Getting caught by vampires was nothing like what she expected.
Prior chapters:
One - Knowing Truth
Two - Entering The Nightmare
Ariadne was disoriented when she woke. There were two male bodies curled heavily around hers, it was dark, and she had no idea where she was.
Then everything all crashed down, and it was all she could not to scream.
Gingerly, she disentangled herself from the arms and legs wrapped around her. Arthur cracked an eye open. "What is it?"
"Bathroom?" she offered up weakly, cringing slightly. Fuck. She had hoped he would be out like a light. Or sleeping like the dead.
"Up by the kitchen," Eames muttered, face pressed into the pillow. "Need a carry up the stairs?"
"N-no, I think I'm a little better now."
"Good," Arthur murmured, his eye sliding shut again. "Come back when you're done. You keep the bed warm."
Ariadne carefully got down and out of the room, then shut the door behind her. She had to take the long way around the basement, clinging to the rough stone wall to remain upright. She wanted to weep, but her eyes remained stubbornly dry. When she reached the stairs, she really did have to use the bathroom, even if she knew that there likely wouldn't be anything much for her body to give up. The human body held approximately eight pints of blood, if she remembered correctly. They likely drained at least two pints. It was no wonder she wasn't firing at all cylinders.
She made her way to the basement doors slowly, a stubborn grip on the railing the only thing keeping her upright. She turned the handle and was blinded for a while by the bright sunlight streaming into the kitchen of the house. All the window shades were up, and it was easily the middle of the afternoon.
The bathroom was easy to find. Afterward, Ariadne found the grocery bags that Arthur must have brought up with him the night (or was that morning?) before. She started drinking from one of the bottles, cracking open the seal. At first she was afraid the vampires would come after her for not going back downstairs right away.
Then she remembered the sunlight bright all around her, and that it was the one story that was always true. Vampires couldn't stand in full sunlight without bursting into flames.
Doggedly, she headed for the back door. She knew it wasn't logical, but she kept looking over her shoulder as if she would find Eames or Arthur there. Going very slowly, the back door didn't creak as loudly as it had when she and Cobb entered the house the day before. She staggered across the porch and down the stairs, heading for the front driveway that would lead to the main road. She had left her car there, and if she could just get to it, her keys and purse should also be there.
When Ariadne got to the driveway, however, it was empty. There was no car, no support, and it was entirely too far to the open road. A choked sound escaped her throat, something like fear and desperation. She staggered forward anyway, refusing to let this overwhelm her. It was afternoon sometime. Sundown would be around six o'clock. She had a few hours to go, and perhaps she could get far enough away that they wouldn't find her. She didn't want to think about the fact that she still had her period for another two days, that they could probably just track down her scent. She refused to think about that.
She collapsed to the side of the driveway, falling face first into the tall grasses. It obscured her from the road, if anyone did in fact ever drive that way, and she wanted to cry. She couldn't even drag herself forward. Her entire body felt leaden, and it was almost like an internal command to stay put.
Unable to fight it, she slept.
***
Ariadne groaned when she was rolled over onto her back. She blinked up at Eames and Arthur's faces staring down at her in the twilight. Fuck.
"You've been a naughty, naughty girl," Eames said, picking her up.
"We've been very nice so far." Arthur tucked her arms in against Eames' chest. "Here, you've been out under the sun for hours when we had drinks and snacks and vitamins for you. Really, very careless of you."
They were chastising her like a child, and she felt a flare of anger rise within her chest. "Let me go," she said, her voice as tough as she could manage when she wanted to sink bonelessly down to the ground. "I need to go home."
"This is home for you now," Eames replied as he kicked open the back door and brought her inside. "Best to accept that sooner rather than later, really."
Arthur simply watched her lean heavily against the back of the chair Eames deposited her into. "Did you really think you could have gotten far?"
"I would've given it a good enough try," Ariadne replied stubbornly, making him smile. "What?"
"You can't get away from us now. We'll always know where you are. You're tied to us."
Ariadne frowned. "Because you've fed from me?" She hadn't heard that story.
Eames laughed. "No, love. Because you've fed from us."
Arthur's lips curled into a smile at Ariadne's shock. "Come now. You didn't think we'd let you go without a fight, did you?" She could only watch as Arthur went into the fridge. It had been empty the day before, but now she recognized the contents of her own refrigerator there. Arthur went through the motions of heating up one of her storage containers, and she could smell the leftover macaroni and cheese when he cracked the lid open. "This will do, I think," he murmured to himself. "You're not terribly hungry at the moment. Fluids are still the primary priority for you right now."
"I stocked the cabinet last night," Eames offered as Arthur put the dish into the microwave to heat up. "We should be good for a bit."
Ariadne felt like curling in on herself and hiding. "Why are you doing this?"
"You need to eat," Arthur replied, rummaging around in the cabinets looking for plates and forks. "Ah... This is where they are."
"What happened to the people that used to live here?" Ariadne asked in a small voice.
"Did we eat them, you mean?" Eames asked from behind her, sounding terribly amused.
"Well... Yes."
"No, unfortunately. There was quite the mess to clean up, actually."
Arthur set the reheated food onto the plate and pushed it in front of her, fork tucked neatly against the food. "You have quite the preconceived notions of us, don't you?"
"You're vampires. You eat people. Drink their blood," she corrected before either of them could. "Whatever. You kill. What else is there to know?"
Eames simply laughed, as if what she had said was amusing. "Oh, poppet. Who died?"
Ariadne went still in the chair. "What?"
"No one becomes a hunter without losing someone," Arthur said, leaning against the kitchen counter, his arms crossed lazily. "So who did you lose?"
"It wasn't us, I'd wager," Eames said, leaning down to hover over her shoulder. "If we did something like that, you'd be pushing to kill us, not simply leave."
"No, it wasn't the two of you," Ariadne admitted, her hands clenched into fists in her lap. "I don't want to talk about it."
"Fair enough. There are plenty of idiots out there as it is," Eames replied. He nipped at her earlobe and then started rummaging about in a cabinet to get her something to drink.
Arthur had kept a steady gaze on her face through all of this. "The man with you last night. He wasn't important to you."
Ariadne flinched. She hadn't really thought about him, except in an almost abstract way. God, she was awful.
He took a chair and spun it around. He sat down, straddling the back of the chair, his crossed arms over the back of it. He rested his chin on his crossed arms and contemplated her silence. "Not a friend, then. Not someone who lost the same people you did. Probably someone you were working with as a hunter, right? This is the one you were mad at on the phone last week?" He smiled at her surprise. "We have very good hearing, Ariadne. Senses are enhanced by the transition. Among other things." His smile broadened, and she could see the fangs in his mouth.
As if she really needed a reminder of what he was.
Eames sat beside her. "If you're too tired to handle the fork, I'll feed you," he offered helpfully. "Only fair, considering you've fed us."
Ariadne flinched again, her fists tightening in her lap. "That wasn't my choice."
He gently tucked her hair behind her ear. "So few things are anymore, isn't that right?"
She slid her eyes down to the plate on the table in front of her, refusing to look at either of them. She wanted to go home. She wanted to erase the past year and just start it over with her family intact and their stupid petty gripes about her father's hectic work schedule at the university and her sister borrowing her clothes without her permission. She didn't even realize she was crying until Eames slid an arm around her shoulders. Arthur was at her other side in an instant, his hand sliding into her lap to cover her fists. "Tell us who you lost," she heard him whisper against her ear, and it felt like an irresisitble command.
"I don't know who it was. He broke into the house and just attacked my sister," she whispered brokenly, breath hitching into a sob. "Her throat was a mess and part of her shoulder was missing. I... I think she died first. My dad must have gone after him next. I wasn't there for that part. I'd been out, and when I came home the door was open and I saw him standing there with his teeth in my mother's neck and I just started screaming. He dropped her and ran off, and I went in the house and found the others..."
Arthur rubbed her wrists gently, soothingly. He had his lips against her temple and had followed her as she hunched her shoulders and bowed her head further at the memory. Eames had his face pressed against her opposite shoulder. "I'm sorry," he said softly.
"I'll find him and kill him," Ariadne said quietly. "Someday, I will."
"Of course, love," Eames murmured against her shoulder. "That sort... Must've been new. Fledglings never can control themselves, but their sires should hold them on a tight leash for at least the first decade."
Arthur snorted. "You got a decade? I was on my own after a year."
"I'm much more likable."
"What are you talking about?" Ariadne asked, sniffling. She removed a hand to wipe at her eyes.
"Oh, where to start?" Arthur asked with a shrug. "There are certain... dynamics at work. The vampire world isn't nearly as scattered as the hunters seem to believe it is."
"Unless you're in Europe," Eames pointed out.
"Unless you're in Europe," Arthur conceded. "Which we happen to be in, but everyone thinks Miles has nominal control."
Eames snorted. "He just wants people to think he controls nothing."
"If it's him, Fischer or Saito, I choose him."
Ariadne sniffled and looked at the both of them. "What the hell are you going on about?"
"Vampire politics, love," Eames said with a shrug. "It's boring."
"We stay away from that crap," Arthur told her. "You need to eat."
She found herself reaching for the fork woodenly, like a puppet on strings. "It's cold," she complained after the first forkful.
"If you ate it when it was warm," Arthur began with a half smile. He went to reheat it in the microwave.
Eames continued leaning into her space, playing with her hair. "It won't be so bad with us, Ariadne," he murmured softly.
"Why me?"
"Dropped into our laps like a gift from the heavens," he replied cheerily. "Why not you?"
"I nearly killed you."
"Missed my heart by an inch," Eames agreed, smiling. "Obviously I'm fated for other things."
"I'll try again," Ariadne told him, feeling a sense of calm settle over her.
"Promise?"
"Enough of that," Arthur said, putting the plate back down in front of her. "You're eating, he's shutting his mouth, and I'm going to draw you a bath."
"We'll get to watch, of course," Eames said helpfully as she began to eat.
"Shut it," Arthur warned, pointing at Eames. He grinned unrepentantly, but did get up and let Ariadne eat in peace.
In the silence, it made her wonder where the car went and how the contents of her fridge wound up in this house. Her senses were dulled, so she had no idea where Arthur went to draw up a bath. Eames might have been out of sight, but she was sure he wasn't far away. She put the fork down when she was done and pushed herself up to her feet. Heart thudding dully in her chest, Ariadne glanced at the back door. She'd never make it far enough out of the house before they caught her. They moved too fast, were too strong for her and it was dark outside.
"I can almost see the gears turning in your head," Eames said, suddenly appearing in the kitchen doorway. He had a smile on his face. "Quite lovely, really."
Ariadne whirled around, startled, and nearly fell. Eames was suddenly there, catching her before she hit the floor. "What?"
"Can't go falling all over me, now," Eames laughed. He swept her up in his arms. "You're such a tiny thing." He made a big show of looking around. "Hey. Don't tell Arthur I did this."
"Did what?"
Eames shifted his grip and bit his wrist before pressing it to her mouth. She let out a cry of alarm and tried to turn away. "Sh... Drink up, love. You need this." Ariadne could taste his blood on her tongue and tried to work it past her lips. Eames stopped smiling, and his blue eyes looked almost black. "Drink."
Unable to stop herself, Ariadne parted her lips and let his blood flow across her tongue. She swallowed, holding his wrist to her mouth to keep from letting any escape. He tasted sweet, his blood flowing thick like honey. After a moment that seemed like forever, he pulled his wrist from her mouth and she watched the wound seal after a few seconds. He licked the remainder of the blood clinging to his skin. "Well now, that wasn't so bad, now was it?"
"How did you do that?"
"Do what?"
"Make me do what you wanted?"
His grin was sly. "You're mortal. I'm not." He gently lowered her so that she stood on her own two feet again. "And the more you feed from us, the more difficult it will be for you to resist us."
Ariadne skittered away from him, and found that the room stopped swaying. She was up on her own two feet, and she felt as if she could run out of the house without falling if she really needed to. Unfortunately, Eames was between her and the door, and it would be no small thing for him to catch her about the waist as she ran past. "What are you doing to me?"
Eames smirked and nodded at the doorway. "Off to your bath. Or do I need to press the issue?"
She kept her back to the wall and edged toward the doorway. She collided with Arthur, who was glaring at Eames. "Upstairs, first door on the left," he said without looking at her. "I've laid out some things for you so you don't have to wander far."
Ariadne fled up the stairs away from them. Her ability to remain upright seemed to make Arthur angry, but she didn't pause to figure out why. She shut the bathroom door and turned the lock, even if they could easily break down the door. It was the spirit of the thing, really. She sank down on the edge of the tub, breathing heavily. She had her head bowed and eyes closed, hands clenched around the edge of the tub. She didn't even look at what Arthur had set out for her to wear. She was being treated like a silly child again, as if this was all something ordinary and she was freaking out for no reason.
Her hands slowly loosened from the edge of the tub. She felt grimy and awful, as if she had to strip her skin and scrub herself down to the bone. With stiff fingers, she undressed and left everything scattered across the floor. She sank down into the warm water, watching it rise up to her chin. She crossed her arms over her chest beneath the water and leaned back against the edge of the tub. She idly thought of praying, but didn't think that would help. These two didn't seem to be the type affected by prayer or holy water.
The taste of Eames' blood still lay thick on her tongue. Despite the warmth of the water, she wanted to shiver. Cobb hadn't mentioned any stories about what would happen if a human swallowed vampire blood. Was it going to change her? Was she going to turn into one of them? No one was entirely sure about the process of turning a human into a vampire, though draining the human completely of blood seemed to be commonly held as vital.
She was startled by a knock at the door. "Can I come in?" Arthur asked.
Ariadne sat up abruptly, water sloshing over the side of the tub. It was cooler than she remembered; she must have dozed off. "What if I say no?"
"I'll stay out here, but I'd really appreciate it if you let me in."
"I locked the door."
"Ah." The lock on the door flipped over. "There. Can I come in?"
She couldn't breathe. "What do you want?"
"You're upset now, aren't you?"
You think? she thought acidly. She lowered her head so that her cheek rested against the side of the tub. "Does it matter?"
"I just want to talk."
Ariadne let out a gusty breath. "Fine."
Arthur came into the bathroom and sat down on the closed toilet seat across from her. "I'm sorry about what happened."
"Are you really?" Arthur simply shrugged, and Ariadne frowned. "Did you kill him?"
"Eames? For that stunt?" Arthur asked in surprise. "You really think we kill everything?"
"Don't you? Isn't that what you do?" Ariadne asked, looking at him. She held the edge of the tub in a white knuckled grip, as if it was any kind of protection against him. "You can do whatever you want, can't you?" she asked, her voice taking on an almost hysterical edge. "Even opening locks without touching them."
"Well, I cheated on that one," Arthur replied with a grin, digging into his pocket for the strip of metal he had used to pop the lock on the bathroom door.
"Mind control, then."
"It's a question of willpower, and most mortals simply don't have it."
Ariadne scowled in response and resisted the urge to stick her tongue out at him. "Why are you really here talking to me?" she asked tiredly. She dropped her chin to the edge of the tub and looked at him evenly. "Or is this where you tell me you're tired of me already and you'll kill me after all?"
He was in front of her within the blink of an eye, his hand cupping the back of her skull almost gently. "You're afraid. You think I've lied to you."
"Haven't you?"
"Not at all. Well... Not much, anyway."
"I'm going to kill you, too, someday," Ariadne said, her voice even and her gaze level with his. Arthur merely smiled at her. "You don't believe me."
"Oh, I believe you'll try. It'll certainly stave off the boredom when you do. Forever isn't always what it's cracked up to be."
Before she could ask what he meant by that, Arthur leaned in and kissed her. He must have dragged his teeth across his tongue to slice it open, because Ariadne could taste blood in her mouth again and she knew it wasn't her own. Arthur's hand was firm at the back of her head, keeping her from moving away from him. His mouth firmly fixed to hers, there was nothing left to do but swallow the blood sliding across her tongue. It was thick and sweet as well, but it was slightly different, as if spiced subtly. Arthur slid his other hand beneath the water line to trace the curve of her back, making her shiver.
Arthur broke the kiss when the blood stopped flowing and the wound on his tongue sealed. He moved to kiss her throat, the hand at her back moving to trace the edge of her arm. She was still clutching the edge of the tub as if it could stop him from what he obviously intended to do. "If he's not dead, what's your friend going to say about this?"
"He'd watch," Arthur murmured against her throat. "Then he'll join in." He moved both of his hands to grasp her shoulders firmly, lifting her effortlessly up and out of the tub. He pulled her against him, and Ariadne tried to push against his chest. "Is that a problem?" he asked, eyebrow arched at her. His expression was otherwise bland.
"Yes. You're dead."
"You say that like it's a bad thing," Arthur replied with a smirk.
There was a snort from the doorway and Ariadne looked up in alarm. Eames was there, looking as unrepentantly lascivious as ever. He grabbed the clothes that Arthur had set out. "Let's muss the master bedroom. There's hours yet before we need to retire."
Ariadne didn't like the way they both looked at her. She was the main course on their menu, and she was powerless to stop it.
Arthur moved so that his lips were next to her ear. "I could make you play with us, but where's the fun in that, hm? I want you to play of your own volition."
"Then you'll wait a long time," Ariadne retorted.
He slid one hand along her breast, and Ariadne sucked in a breath. "Will I really?"
"Yes," Ariadne said with a voice that was firmer than she felt. She needed to escape. She needed to get out of here, though they would probably never let her go.
"Close your eyes," Eames said, looking more like a python poised to strike. "He's going to move fast, isn't he? Wouldn't want you to get dizzy."
"What?"
The world spun around her, and she found herself clutching Arthur tight as he picked her up faster than she could even blink. They were in what had to be the master bedroom, though she hadn't paid much attention during her impromptu search the week before. She was deposited in the center of the massive bed, headboard banging into the wall behind it. "Ah. That must've woken the children," Eames said, a pleased note to his voice.
"Seriously?" Arthur asked, lofting an eyebrow at him. Eames merely grinned at him and left Ariadne's clothes on top of the dresser, in front of the mirror.
"At least our pet's bruises are gone. Stepping up the timetable was a good idea, admit it."
Arthur practically growled at Eames, and Ariadne couldn't figure out who was the boss in the relationship, or who was the older of the two. Stories held that older vampires were stronger, faster and harder to kill, with more immunities to common means of killing them. Perhaps that was why the silver bullets hadn't worked well. Maybe they only worked on fledgling vampires.
Eames grasped her ankle and slid his hand up her calf, the motion slicked by the water still clinging to her skin. "I'll be nice for a change, Arthur," he said, eyes starting to turn from blue to black. Ariadne shivered, not just from the cold. "You can take your time."
When he ran his fangs along her instep, all she could think of was Eames sinking his teeth into Cobb's leg. She nearly sobbed, but then Arthur was hovering above her. His mouth claimed hers, a hand curling around her jaw in a surprisingly tender caress. She could almost close her eyes and pretend she was with someone that cared about her, someone she actually gave a fuck about. He touched his tongue to the seam of her lips, gently asking permission to enter, and she parted them slowly. Arthur's tongue slid into her mouth to stroke hers languidly, his thumb stroking her chin slowly. She could feel her nipples pebbling against his chest, though she told herself it was simply the chill from water evaporating off of her skin. It had nothing to do with Arthur's tongue in her mouth, Eames stroking her ankle with his fangs and lips and fingers, or Arthur's thighs on either side of one of hers.
Arthur swallowed her choked breath and moved his hand down along the smooth column of her throat to the rise of her chest. He abraded her nipple with the heel of his hand, and Ariadne bucked up against him with a startled sound of pleasure. He still kissed her, as if he could do this until the end of time. Eames started working his way upward, his attention on the leg not currently trapped between Arthur's. He licked a stripe up the side of her calf muscle, then along the side of her knee. "So beautiful," he murmured, his voice soft and almost reverent.
She had no idea which side of either vampire was the real one. She was almost ready to give up trying to figure it out.
Eames blew a breath along the inside of her thigh, watching her shiver at the contact. His soft lips followed his breath, then he dragged the edge of a fang against her skin. It felt like the scrape of fingernails along the inside of her thigh. Coupled with Arthur's mouth over hers and his hand on her breast, Ariadne twisted between them, moaning low in her throat. Eames moved up to the juncture of her thighs, lips and tongue insistent against her sensitive flesh. There was the drag of teeth and fang across her folds, slowly and delicately. The flare of terror was there, but buried beneath the heady pleasure in their touch.
Arthur broke his kiss to feather some across her jaw and neck, and it almost sounded as if he was murmuring things against her skin. It sounded like "waited so long for this," but her harsh breathing made it hard for her to tell. Ariadne grasped his shoulder with one hand, and had the coverlet caught tight in her fist in the other. Eames sucked on her clit, making her buck against his mouth as he slid his fingers inside of her. She could feel the pleasure shoot through her, and all she could do was writhe beneath them and gasp for breath. Eames coaxed an orgasm out of her, then sat back and sucked on his bloody fingers as Arthur pulled back long enough to strip off his own clothing. He slid inside her in one swift motion, making Ariadne keen in pleasure and arch up against him. Arthur bent over her, balancing on one arm as he used his other to lift one leg high up around his hips. "Hold onto me," he growled above her. She opened her eyes and looked at him, heart stuttering in her chest. He wasn't deliberately commanding her, but she still grasped his shoulders and tried to remember how to breathe as he slammed into her.
Eames stripped and pushed himself into Arthur's body with a possessive growl. His thrusts into Arthur pushed him deeper inside of Ariadne. She nearly howled at the feel of it, and dimly registered the creak of the bed and the slamming of the headboard into the wall. She dug her nails into Arthur's shoulders, seeing his eyes turn black and his fangs almost elongate in his mouth. Ariadne whimpered at the sight of it as well as the feel of him inside her. Eames held Arthur's hips in a tight grip and moved at a punishing pace. He came more or less at the same time as Ariadne, and bit down deeply into the side of Arthur's throat. Arthur arched back into his touch with a groan, and then leaned forward as he came inside of Ariadne. Eames let go of his throat, licking his fangs contentedly.
Ariadne felt boneless beneath them, and was startled when Arthur pressed her mouth to the wound at his throat. His blood flowed freely across her tongue and down her throat, and she couldn't help but swallow it down. He groaned at the feel of her drawing the blood out of him, and Ariadne made a choking noise as he bit down on the side of her throat. She didn't even feel the sting of it this time, but she did stop sucking at the wound in Arthur's throat. She traced the edge of it with her tongue, feeling it seal up. Arthur let go of her and licked the wound shut.
Both of the vampires were kneeling on the bed beside her sprawled form, smiling down at her in a satisfied kind of way. "Definitely more fun when you play along, right?" Arthur asked her. Ariadne blushed furiously, remembering her denial not even an hour ago that she would ever cooperate. Dammit.
"Go on and rest, love," Eames said, leaning down to kiss her forehead. "You look all fucked out at the moment."
Sleep definitely seemed like a good idea.
***
***
To chapter four!
Author: Eustacia Vye
Author's e-mail: eustacia_vye28@hotmail.com
Rating: NC-17 (language, graphic depictions of violence, noncon/dubcon and actual con)
Pairing: Ariadne/Cobb (chapter 1 only), Ariadne/Arthur/Eames
Disclaimer: Everyone here belongs to Christopher Nolan and not to me. His toys are fun to play with!
Spoilers/Warnings: Post-movie. For the
inception_kink meme prompt in round 7: Vampire!AU Ariadne is a newbie vampire hunter Cobb is training. Arthur and/or Eames are vampires.
Summary: Training with Cobb was hard, but she had expected it to be that way. Getting caught by vampires was nothing like what she expected.
Prior chapters:
One - Knowing Truth
Two - Entering The Nightmare
Ariadne was disoriented when she woke. There were two male bodies curled heavily around hers, it was dark, and she had no idea where she was.
Then everything all crashed down, and it was all she could not to scream.
Gingerly, she disentangled herself from the arms and legs wrapped around her. Arthur cracked an eye open. "What is it?"
"Bathroom?" she offered up weakly, cringing slightly. Fuck. She had hoped he would be out like a light. Or sleeping like the dead.
"Up by the kitchen," Eames muttered, face pressed into the pillow. "Need a carry up the stairs?"
"N-no, I think I'm a little better now."
"Good," Arthur murmured, his eye sliding shut again. "Come back when you're done. You keep the bed warm."
Ariadne carefully got down and out of the room, then shut the door behind her. She had to take the long way around the basement, clinging to the rough stone wall to remain upright. She wanted to weep, but her eyes remained stubbornly dry. When she reached the stairs, she really did have to use the bathroom, even if she knew that there likely wouldn't be anything much for her body to give up. The human body held approximately eight pints of blood, if she remembered correctly. They likely drained at least two pints. It was no wonder she wasn't firing at all cylinders.
She made her way to the basement doors slowly, a stubborn grip on the railing the only thing keeping her upright. She turned the handle and was blinded for a while by the bright sunlight streaming into the kitchen of the house. All the window shades were up, and it was easily the middle of the afternoon.
The bathroom was easy to find. Afterward, Ariadne found the grocery bags that Arthur must have brought up with him the night (or was that morning?) before. She started drinking from one of the bottles, cracking open the seal. At first she was afraid the vampires would come after her for not going back downstairs right away.
Then she remembered the sunlight bright all around her, and that it was the one story that was always true. Vampires couldn't stand in full sunlight without bursting into flames.
Doggedly, she headed for the back door. She knew it wasn't logical, but she kept looking over her shoulder as if she would find Eames or Arthur there. Going very slowly, the back door didn't creak as loudly as it had when she and Cobb entered the house the day before. She staggered across the porch and down the stairs, heading for the front driveway that would lead to the main road. She had left her car there, and if she could just get to it, her keys and purse should also be there.
When Ariadne got to the driveway, however, it was empty. There was no car, no support, and it was entirely too far to the open road. A choked sound escaped her throat, something like fear and desperation. She staggered forward anyway, refusing to let this overwhelm her. It was afternoon sometime. Sundown would be around six o'clock. She had a few hours to go, and perhaps she could get far enough away that they wouldn't find her. She didn't want to think about the fact that she still had her period for another two days, that they could probably just track down her scent. She refused to think about that.
She collapsed to the side of the driveway, falling face first into the tall grasses. It obscured her from the road, if anyone did in fact ever drive that way, and she wanted to cry. She couldn't even drag herself forward. Her entire body felt leaden, and it was almost like an internal command to stay put.
Unable to fight it, she slept.
***
Ariadne groaned when she was rolled over onto her back. She blinked up at Eames and Arthur's faces staring down at her in the twilight. Fuck.
"You've been a naughty, naughty girl," Eames said, picking her up.
"We've been very nice so far." Arthur tucked her arms in against Eames' chest. "Here, you've been out under the sun for hours when we had drinks and snacks and vitamins for you. Really, very careless of you."
They were chastising her like a child, and she felt a flare of anger rise within her chest. "Let me go," she said, her voice as tough as she could manage when she wanted to sink bonelessly down to the ground. "I need to go home."
"This is home for you now," Eames replied as he kicked open the back door and brought her inside. "Best to accept that sooner rather than later, really."
Arthur simply watched her lean heavily against the back of the chair Eames deposited her into. "Did you really think you could have gotten far?"
"I would've given it a good enough try," Ariadne replied stubbornly, making him smile. "What?"
"You can't get away from us now. We'll always know where you are. You're tied to us."
Ariadne frowned. "Because you've fed from me?" She hadn't heard that story.
Eames laughed. "No, love. Because you've fed from us."
Arthur's lips curled into a smile at Ariadne's shock. "Come now. You didn't think we'd let you go without a fight, did you?" She could only watch as Arthur went into the fridge. It had been empty the day before, but now she recognized the contents of her own refrigerator there. Arthur went through the motions of heating up one of her storage containers, and she could smell the leftover macaroni and cheese when he cracked the lid open. "This will do, I think," he murmured to himself. "You're not terribly hungry at the moment. Fluids are still the primary priority for you right now."
"I stocked the cabinet last night," Eames offered as Arthur put the dish into the microwave to heat up. "We should be good for a bit."
Ariadne felt like curling in on herself and hiding. "Why are you doing this?"
"You need to eat," Arthur replied, rummaging around in the cabinets looking for plates and forks. "Ah... This is where they are."
"What happened to the people that used to live here?" Ariadne asked in a small voice.
"Did we eat them, you mean?" Eames asked from behind her, sounding terribly amused.
"Well... Yes."
"No, unfortunately. There was quite the mess to clean up, actually."
Arthur set the reheated food onto the plate and pushed it in front of her, fork tucked neatly against the food. "You have quite the preconceived notions of us, don't you?"
"You're vampires. You eat people. Drink their blood," she corrected before either of them could. "Whatever. You kill. What else is there to know?"
Eames simply laughed, as if what she had said was amusing. "Oh, poppet. Who died?"
Ariadne went still in the chair. "What?"
"No one becomes a hunter without losing someone," Arthur said, leaning against the kitchen counter, his arms crossed lazily. "So who did you lose?"
"It wasn't us, I'd wager," Eames said, leaning down to hover over her shoulder. "If we did something like that, you'd be pushing to kill us, not simply leave."
"No, it wasn't the two of you," Ariadne admitted, her hands clenched into fists in her lap. "I don't want to talk about it."
"Fair enough. There are plenty of idiots out there as it is," Eames replied. He nipped at her earlobe and then started rummaging about in a cabinet to get her something to drink.
Arthur had kept a steady gaze on her face through all of this. "The man with you last night. He wasn't important to you."
Ariadne flinched. She hadn't really thought about him, except in an almost abstract way. God, she was awful.
He took a chair and spun it around. He sat down, straddling the back of the chair, his crossed arms over the back of it. He rested his chin on his crossed arms and contemplated her silence. "Not a friend, then. Not someone who lost the same people you did. Probably someone you were working with as a hunter, right? This is the one you were mad at on the phone last week?" He smiled at her surprise. "We have very good hearing, Ariadne. Senses are enhanced by the transition. Among other things." His smile broadened, and she could see the fangs in his mouth.
As if she really needed a reminder of what he was.
Eames sat beside her. "If you're too tired to handle the fork, I'll feed you," he offered helpfully. "Only fair, considering you've fed us."
Ariadne flinched again, her fists tightening in her lap. "That wasn't my choice."
He gently tucked her hair behind her ear. "So few things are anymore, isn't that right?"
She slid her eyes down to the plate on the table in front of her, refusing to look at either of them. She wanted to go home. She wanted to erase the past year and just start it over with her family intact and their stupid petty gripes about her father's hectic work schedule at the university and her sister borrowing her clothes without her permission. She didn't even realize she was crying until Eames slid an arm around her shoulders. Arthur was at her other side in an instant, his hand sliding into her lap to cover her fists. "Tell us who you lost," she heard him whisper against her ear, and it felt like an irresisitble command.
"I don't know who it was. He broke into the house and just attacked my sister," she whispered brokenly, breath hitching into a sob. "Her throat was a mess and part of her shoulder was missing. I... I think she died first. My dad must have gone after him next. I wasn't there for that part. I'd been out, and when I came home the door was open and I saw him standing there with his teeth in my mother's neck and I just started screaming. He dropped her and ran off, and I went in the house and found the others..."
Arthur rubbed her wrists gently, soothingly. He had his lips against her temple and had followed her as she hunched her shoulders and bowed her head further at the memory. Eames had his face pressed against her opposite shoulder. "I'm sorry," he said softly.
"I'll find him and kill him," Ariadne said quietly. "Someday, I will."
"Of course, love," Eames murmured against her shoulder. "That sort... Must've been new. Fledglings never can control themselves, but their sires should hold them on a tight leash for at least the first decade."
Arthur snorted. "You got a decade? I was on my own after a year."
"I'm much more likable."
"What are you talking about?" Ariadne asked, sniffling. She removed a hand to wipe at her eyes.
"Oh, where to start?" Arthur asked with a shrug. "There are certain... dynamics at work. The vampire world isn't nearly as scattered as the hunters seem to believe it is."
"Unless you're in Europe," Eames pointed out.
"Unless you're in Europe," Arthur conceded. "Which we happen to be in, but everyone thinks Miles has nominal control."
Eames snorted. "He just wants people to think he controls nothing."
"If it's him, Fischer or Saito, I choose him."
Ariadne sniffled and looked at the both of them. "What the hell are you going on about?"
"Vampire politics, love," Eames said with a shrug. "It's boring."
"We stay away from that crap," Arthur told her. "You need to eat."
She found herself reaching for the fork woodenly, like a puppet on strings. "It's cold," she complained after the first forkful.
"If you ate it when it was warm," Arthur began with a half smile. He went to reheat it in the microwave.
Eames continued leaning into her space, playing with her hair. "It won't be so bad with us, Ariadne," he murmured softly.
"Why me?"
"Dropped into our laps like a gift from the heavens," he replied cheerily. "Why not you?"
"I nearly killed you."
"Missed my heart by an inch," Eames agreed, smiling. "Obviously I'm fated for other things."
"I'll try again," Ariadne told him, feeling a sense of calm settle over her.
"Promise?"
"Enough of that," Arthur said, putting the plate back down in front of her. "You're eating, he's shutting his mouth, and I'm going to draw you a bath."
"We'll get to watch, of course," Eames said helpfully as she began to eat.
"Shut it," Arthur warned, pointing at Eames. He grinned unrepentantly, but did get up and let Ariadne eat in peace.
In the silence, it made her wonder where the car went and how the contents of her fridge wound up in this house. Her senses were dulled, so she had no idea where Arthur went to draw up a bath. Eames might have been out of sight, but she was sure he wasn't far away. She put the fork down when she was done and pushed herself up to her feet. Heart thudding dully in her chest, Ariadne glanced at the back door. She'd never make it far enough out of the house before they caught her. They moved too fast, were too strong for her and it was dark outside.
"I can almost see the gears turning in your head," Eames said, suddenly appearing in the kitchen doorway. He had a smile on his face. "Quite lovely, really."
Ariadne whirled around, startled, and nearly fell. Eames was suddenly there, catching her before she hit the floor. "What?"
"Can't go falling all over me, now," Eames laughed. He swept her up in his arms. "You're such a tiny thing." He made a big show of looking around. "Hey. Don't tell Arthur I did this."
"Did what?"
Eames shifted his grip and bit his wrist before pressing it to her mouth. She let out a cry of alarm and tried to turn away. "Sh... Drink up, love. You need this." Ariadne could taste his blood on her tongue and tried to work it past her lips. Eames stopped smiling, and his blue eyes looked almost black. "Drink."
Unable to stop herself, Ariadne parted her lips and let his blood flow across her tongue. She swallowed, holding his wrist to her mouth to keep from letting any escape. He tasted sweet, his blood flowing thick like honey. After a moment that seemed like forever, he pulled his wrist from her mouth and she watched the wound seal after a few seconds. He licked the remainder of the blood clinging to his skin. "Well now, that wasn't so bad, now was it?"
"How did you do that?"
"Do what?"
"Make me do what you wanted?"
His grin was sly. "You're mortal. I'm not." He gently lowered her so that she stood on her own two feet again. "And the more you feed from us, the more difficult it will be for you to resist us."
Ariadne skittered away from him, and found that the room stopped swaying. She was up on her own two feet, and she felt as if she could run out of the house without falling if she really needed to. Unfortunately, Eames was between her and the door, and it would be no small thing for him to catch her about the waist as she ran past. "What are you doing to me?"
Eames smirked and nodded at the doorway. "Off to your bath. Or do I need to press the issue?"
She kept her back to the wall and edged toward the doorway. She collided with Arthur, who was glaring at Eames. "Upstairs, first door on the left," he said without looking at her. "I've laid out some things for you so you don't have to wander far."
Ariadne fled up the stairs away from them. Her ability to remain upright seemed to make Arthur angry, but she didn't pause to figure out why. She shut the bathroom door and turned the lock, even if they could easily break down the door. It was the spirit of the thing, really. She sank down on the edge of the tub, breathing heavily. She had her head bowed and eyes closed, hands clenched around the edge of the tub. She didn't even look at what Arthur had set out for her to wear. She was being treated like a silly child again, as if this was all something ordinary and she was freaking out for no reason.
Her hands slowly loosened from the edge of the tub. She felt grimy and awful, as if she had to strip her skin and scrub herself down to the bone. With stiff fingers, she undressed and left everything scattered across the floor. She sank down into the warm water, watching it rise up to her chin. She crossed her arms over her chest beneath the water and leaned back against the edge of the tub. She idly thought of praying, but didn't think that would help. These two didn't seem to be the type affected by prayer or holy water.
The taste of Eames' blood still lay thick on her tongue. Despite the warmth of the water, she wanted to shiver. Cobb hadn't mentioned any stories about what would happen if a human swallowed vampire blood. Was it going to change her? Was she going to turn into one of them? No one was entirely sure about the process of turning a human into a vampire, though draining the human completely of blood seemed to be commonly held as vital.
She was startled by a knock at the door. "Can I come in?" Arthur asked.
Ariadne sat up abruptly, water sloshing over the side of the tub. It was cooler than she remembered; she must have dozed off. "What if I say no?"
"I'll stay out here, but I'd really appreciate it if you let me in."
"I locked the door."
"Ah." The lock on the door flipped over. "There. Can I come in?"
She couldn't breathe. "What do you want?"
"You're upset now, aren't you?"
You think? she thought acidly. She lowered her head so that her cheek rested against the side of the tub. "Does it matter?"
"I just want to talk."
Ariadne let out a gusty breath. "Fine."
Arthur came into the bathroom and sat down on the closed toilet seat across from her. "I'm sorry about what happened."
"Are you really?" Arthur simply shrugged, and Ariadne frowned. "Did you kill him?"
"Eames? For that stunt?" Arthur asked in surprise. "You really think we kill everything?"
"Don't you? Isn't that what you do?" Ariadne asked, looking at him. She held the edge of the tub in a white knuckled grip, as if it was any kind of protection against him. "You can do whatever you want, can't you?" she asked, her voice taking on an almost hysterical edge. "Even opening locks without touching them."
"Well, I cheated on that one," Arthur replied with a grin, digging into his pocket for the strip of metal he had used to pop the lock on the bathroom door.
"Mind control, then."
"It's a question of willpower, and most mortals simply don't have it."
Ariadne scowled in response and resisted the urge to stick her tongue out at him. "Why are you really here talking to me?" she asked tiredly. She dropped her chin to the edge of the tub and looked at him evenly. "Or is this where you tell me you're tired of me already and you'll kill me after all?"
He was in front of her within the blink of an eye, his hand cupping the back of her skull almost gently. "You're afraid. You think I've lied to you."
"Haven't you?"
"Not at all. Well... Not much, anyway."
"I'm going to kill you, too, someday," Ariadne said, her voice even and her gaze level with his. Arthur merely smiled at her. "You don't believe me."
"Oh, I believe you'll try. It'll certainly stave off the boredom when you do. Forever isn't always what it's cracked up to be."
Before she could ask what he meant by that, Arthur leaned in and kissed her. He must have dragged his teeth across his tongue to slice it open, because Ariadne could taste blood in her mouth again and she knew it wasn't her own. Arthur's hand was firm at the back of her head, keeping her from moving away from him. His mouth firmly fixed to hers, there was nothing left to do but swallow the blood sliding across her tongue. It was thick and sweet as well, but it was slightly different, as if spiced subtly. Arthur slid his other hand beneath the water line to trace the curve of her back, making her shiver.
Arthur broke the kiss when the blood stopped flowing and the wound on his tongue sealed. He moved to kiss her throat, the hand at her back moving to trace the edge of her arm. She was still clutching the edge of the tub as if it could stop him from what he obviously intended to do. "If he's not dead, what's your friend going to say about this?"
"He'd watch," Arthur murmured against her throat. "Then he'll join in." He moved both of his hands to grasp her shoulders firmly, lifting her effortlessly up and out of the tub. He pulled her against him, and Ariadne tried to push against his chest. "Is that a problem?" he asked, eyebrow arched at her. His expression was otherwise bland.
"Yes. You're dead."
"You say that like it's a bad thing," Arthur replied with a smirk.
There was a snort from the doorway and Ariadne looked up in alarm. Eames was there, looking as unrepentantly lascivious as ever. He grabbed the clothes that Arthur had set out. "Let's muss the master bedroom. There's hours yet before we need to retire."
Ariadne didn't like the way they both looked at her. She was the main course on their menu, and she was powerless to stop it.
Arthur moved so that his lips were next to her ear. "I could make you play with us, but where's the fun in that, hm? I want you to play of your own volition."
"Then you'll wait a long time," Ariadne retorted.
He slid one hand along her breast, and Ariadne sucked in a breath. "Will I really?"
"Yes," Ariadne said with a voice that was firmer than she felt. She needed to escape. She needed to get out of here, though they would probably never let her go.
"Close your eyes," Eames said, looking more like a python poised to strike. "He's going to move fast, isn't he? Wouldn't want you to get dizzy."
"What?"
The world spun around her, and she found herself clutching Arthur tight as he picked her up faster than she could even blink. They were in what had to be the master bedroom, though she hadn't paid much attention during her impromptu search the week before. She was deposited in the center of the massive bed, headboard banging into the wall behind it. "Ah. That must've woken the children," Eames said, a pleased note to his voice.
"Seriously?" Arthur asked, lofting an eyebrow at him. Eames merely grinned at him and left Ariadne's clothes on top of the dresser, in front of the mirror.
"At least our pet's bruises are gone. Stepping up the timetable was a good idea, admit it."
Arthur practically growled at Eames, and Ariadne couldn't figure out who was the boss in the relationship, or who was the older of the two. Stories held that older vampires were stronger, faster and harder to kill, with more immunities to common means of killing them. Perhaps that was why the silver bullets hadn't worked well. Maybe they only worked on fledgling vampires.
Eames grasped her ankle and slid his hand up her calf, the motion slicked by the water still clinging to her skin. "I'll be nice for a change, Arthur," he said, eyes starting to turn from blue to black. Ariadne shivered, not just from the cold. "You can take your time."
When he ran his fangs along her instep, all she could think of was Eames sinking his teeth into Cobb's leg. She nearly sobbed, but then Arthur was hovering above her. His mouth claimed hers, a hand curling around her jaw in a surprisingly tender caress. She could almost close her eyes and pretend she was with someone that cared about her, someone she actually gave a fuck about. He touched his tongue to the seam of her lips, gently asking permission to enter, and she parted them slowly. Arthur's tongue slid into her mouth to stroke hers languidly, his thumb stroking her chin slowly. She could feel her nipples pebbling against his chest, though she told herself it was simply the chill from water evaporating off of her skin. It had nothing to do with Arthur's tongue in her mouth, Eames stroking her ankle with his fangs and lips and fingers, or Arthur's thighs on either side of one of hers.
Arthur swallowed her choked breath and moved his hand down along the smooth column of her throat to the rise of her chest. He abraded her nipple with the heel of his hand, and Ariadne bucked up against him with a startled sound of pleasure. He still kissed her, as if he could do this until the end of time. Eames started working his way upward, his attention on the leg not currently trapped between Arthur's. He licked a stripe up the side of her calf muscle, then along the side of her knee. "So beautiful," he murmured, his voice soft and almost reverent.
She had no idea which side of either vampire was the real one. She was almost ready to give up trying to figure it out.
Eames blew a breath along the inside of her thigh, watching her shiver at the contact. His soft lips followed his breath, then he dragged the edge of a fang against her skin. It felt like the scrape of fingernails along the inside of her thigh. Coupled with Arthur's mouth over hers and his hand on her breast, Ariadne twisted between them, moaning low in her throat. Eames moved up to the juncture of her thighs, lips and tongue insistent against her sensitive flesh. There was the drag of teeth and fang across her folds, slowly and delicately. The flare of terror was there, but buried beneath the heady pleasure in their touch.
Arthur broke his kiss to feather some across her jaw and neck, and it almost sounded as if he was murmuring things against her skin. It sounded like "waited so long for this," but her harsh breathing made it hard for her to tell. Ariadne grasped his shoulder with one hand, and had the coverlet caught tight in her fist in the other. Eames sucked on her clit, making her buck against his mouth as he slid his fingers inside of her. She could feel the pleasure shoot through her, and all she could do was writhe beneath them and gasp for breath. Eames coaxed an orgasm out of her, then sat back and sucked on his bloody fingers as Arthur pulled back long enough to strip off his own clothing. He slid inside her in one swift motion, making Ariadne keen in pleasure and arch up against him. Arthur bent over her, balancing on one arm as he used his other to lift one leg high up around his hips. "Hold onto me," he growled above her. She opened her eyes and looked at him, heart stuttering in her chest. He wasn't deliberately commanding her, but she still grasped his shoulders and tried to remember how to breathe as he slammed into her.
Eames stripped and pushed himself into Arthur's body with a possessive growl. His thrusts into Arthur pushed him deeper inside of Ariadne. She nearly howled at the feel of it, and dimly registered the creak of the bed and the slamming of the headboard into the wall. She dug her nails into Arthur's shoulders, seeing his eyes turn black and his fangs almost elongate in his mouth. Ariadne whimpered at the sight of it as well as the feel of him inside her. Eames held Arthur's hips in a tight grip and moved at a punishing pace. He came more or less at the same time as Ariadne, and bit down deeply into the side of Arthur's throat. Arthur arched back into his touch with a groan, and then leaned forward as he came inside of Ariadne. Eames let go of his throat, licking his fangs contentedly.
Ariadne felt boneless beneath them, and was startled when Arthur pressed her mouth to the wound at his throat. His blood flowed freely across her tongue and down her throat, and she couldn't help but swallow it down. He groaned at the feel of her drawing the blood out of him, and Ariadne made a choking noise as he bit down on the side of her throat. She didn't even feel the sting of it this time, but she did stop sucking at the wound in Arthur's throat. She traced the edge of it with her tongue, feeling it seal up. Arthur let go of her and licked the wound shut.
Both of the vampires were kneeling on the bed beside her sprawled form, smiling down at her in a satisfied kind of way. "Definitely more fun when you play along, right?" Arthur asked her. Ariadne blushed furiously, remembering her denial not even an hour ago that she would ever cooperate. Dammit.
"Go on and rest, love," Eames said, leaning down to kiss her forehead. "You look all fucked out at the moment."
Sleep definitely seemed like a good idea.
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To chapter four!