Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Bloody Skies	By : TokiMirage Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Slash - Male/Male Views: 44832 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 4
Disclaimer: JKRowling owns Harry Potter. Everything else is mine. I do not make any money writing this fic.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
Bloody Skies
oOo
Chapter Ten:
oOo
“Where the hell have you been?!”
Cyrus woke to being bodily dragged out of his bed and slammed against the wall. Blinking blearily, he saw Tara’s angry red eyes inches from his face. He frowned. “You have bad morning breath.” When he saw the furious expression on her face, he quickly corrected, “Er, I mean, you look lovely this morning.” He cast a wandless tempus, trying to ignore the claws digging into his arms and the fact that his feet couldn’t actually touch the floor. The glowing numbers read 4:09:35. He groaned. It was way too fucking early in the morning to be conscious. “Why can’t you bother me at a decent hour?” he asked crossly. He’d been through shit yesterday and all he’d wanted was a good night of sleep, but nooo.
“You missed our scheduled feeding, human,” Tara growled, enunciating her point by slamming him against the wall. Again.
Cyrus glared. “Only by a day. Yeesh.”
“That doesn’t matter, ingrate! We have a deal, and you broke the deal without prior notice! That means that you owe me a favour.” Fear trickled down his spine at the sight of the smirk on her face.
“What are you talking about? You knew I was going to be out looking for my feather!”
She blinked innocently. “Well, I never knew it was going to take that long. So it’s your own fault, really. Next time you need to communicate properly, otherwise shit like this happens, and then you owe me.”
Cyrus threw her off him with a bit of wandless magic, rubbing at the marks on his arms. “Give me a minute to wake up,” he grumbled, stretching as he made his way to the bathroom. All the food he’d stuffed himself with last night seemed to have run its course.
When he came out a few moments later, a cleaned ring in his hand, Tara raised an eyebrow at him. “What were you doing in the bathroom with that ring?”
Cyrus honestly didn’t know what to say.
“Er, I forgot it by the sink when I took it off last night.”
She shrugged. “Whatever. I need you to come to a meeting tomorrow night.” She held out a slip of paper. “Here’s the address.”
Cyrus took the sheet and stared blankly at the writing. “’Shelby’s Blood Bath?’ Where the hell is that?”
“You know the red district in sector four of the- Oh never mind. I take it you’ve never explored past the walls of Shikaan?”
He frowned. “No, why?”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re in another dimension, kid. You honestly didn’t think it was only the school, did you?” Cyrus just stared. “Whatever. I’ll come pick you up Wednesday night. Be ready before nine. And you might wanna wear that fancy armour of yours.”
“Why would I need it?”
Tara grinned, flashing fang. “It’s the monthly student vampire meeting. We discuss vampire politics, share information, hide information, and show off our powers and belongings.” She eyed his scruffy, boxer-clad visage. “You would fall into the last category.”
He narrowed his eyes. “I’m not a wind-up toy that performs for your amusement.”
She shrugged. “You have a pretty sweet set up, Cyrus. Most blood bags, the proper term is ‘donor’, are treated not far from slaves. You’re lucky in that you have something I place in high value, so I don’t demean you or make you follow my bidding in order for you to have my protection.” When Cyrus just stared at her blankly, she got an annoyed look on her face. “Look. It’s this simple. You pretend to be a docile little human servant for me, and I don’t kick your ass three ways to Sunday, capiche? I won’t have you ruining my reputation because you’re too full of yourself to suck up your pride.”
When she seemed to be waiting for some kind of response, Cyrus nodded. “Alright. Will I have to do this often?”
She shook her head. “No, not really. You’re a new acquisition, so it’s best that I show you off now before some other vamp comes along and gets stupid ideas in their empty skulls.” She grinned. “No student is taking what’s mine. You’re on your own when it comes to the older vamps, though.” She shrugged. “I’m not fighting Bindi for you.”
Cyrus frowned. “Who’s Bindi?”
“She’s the Study of Ancient Magic teacher. She’s been around longer than Rivehn, actually.”
“Really? But I thought Rivehn was the oldest and most powerful vampire.”
Tara stared at him for a moment before bursting into laughter. It cut off with a snort. “Who told you that, kid? Rivehn may be the most powerful vampire at this school, but he’s not the oldest or the most powerful in the dimensions. He’s just really close. He’s not ambitious enough to want a higher position – he hasn’t killed off another vampire in the past three hundred years – so he’s well liked amongst the Elders.”
Cyrus had no response to that.
“So, you’ll be in your rooms Wednesday night? I’m picking you up at quarter to nine, so don’t be late.” She melted into one of the shadows under his bed and disappeared. Cyrus scowled. So that was how she’d been sneaking into his rooms. He vowed to install lights under his bed.
oOo
“Oh, it’s you again.”
Cyrus grinned as the door closed behind him. “Yeah. It’s lunchtime at school, so I had a spare moment. I got my feather back.”
The fey rolled her eyes. “Honestly, you humans. So stubborn. Like I said before, just because it used to be in your wand doesn’t-“
He twirled the feather in his fingers and multiple golden sparks jumped off it. “I’m sure that this feather will work. Now, what wood will we need?”
She gave him a bland look. “You…” She snatched the feather out of his hand and walked to her back room. “If you weren’t a customer, I’d slap that cocky…” she trailed off into grumbling. They entered the room filled with bottles and wood. “You know the drill.”
Cyrus grinned and closed his eyes. Thinking of his feather, of the feeling he felt when he held it, he waited for a piece of wood to resonate. It took a few minutes, but eventually he felt a tingle a little ways away. Opening his eyes just enough to see, he followed the sensation until he came to a door near one of the corners of the room.
The fey came over to him. “It’s in the surplus storage? Huh.” She waved her hand over the door and it opened with a click. When she motioned him in, Cyrus walked through the doorframe, curiously glancing around him. Following the ‘feeling’, he made his way over to the far end of the small closet. Digging through a pile of sticks in a small box, he pulled out a long, pale-white stick. He held it out to the fey.
She took it with a grin. “White oak, huh? Not so holly anymore. Follow me.”
When they were back in the main room, she placed the feather and the stick on her counter and held both hands over them. After some glowing and fireworks, the stick shaved itself into the shape of a wand. Finally, she took the phoenix feather and inserted it into the shaft. With a flash of light, the tip sealed shut and the wand was complete. She didn’t touch it.
“Try it.”
With a grin, Cyrus picked it off the counter and gripped it firmly in his hand. A shower of golden sparks in the shape of a phoenix flew out of the end and danced around the room before melting into the air. He grinned. “So, what’s the damage?”
“40 galleons. 10 for the stick, 30 for labour.”
With a shrug, he dished over the metal. Again. “Hopefully this’ll be is the last time I see you.”
She grinned. “Likewise. What happened to the other wand, anyway? The one with the hair?”
“It… well, someone broke it.” He grimaced.
Her eyes narrowed. “The bastard. Did they get their just desserts?”
Cyrus grinned. “In a manner of speaking.”
oOo
After his last class of the day, Cyrus was in the library when Xanthir found him.
“I see you made it out in once piece,” the werewolf said from behind Cyrus as he sniffed at his neck. The human jumped. He really needed to figure out a way to sense the people around him or he was going to get killed. Cyrus gave Xanthir a weird look as he finished sniffing, but the werewolf just grinned and plunked himself down in the chair across from Cyrus. “I thought, when you didn’t show up to supper last night, that that Snipe guy didn’t get my message.”
The human snorted. “Don’t let him hear you call him that. His name’s Snape.”
Xanthir waved it away. “Whatever. So, what happened exactly? You were gone for days. And you reek of death and blood, even more so than normal.”
Cyrus frowned, confused. “What do you mean? I had a shower, and I washed my armour last night.”
“I have a nose twenty times as sensitive as yours. Of course I can still smell it! What the hell happened?” Xanthir looked concerned.
Cyrus pulled out his new wand and waved it through the air. Gold sparks jumped off the tip. “I got my feather back, of course.”
The werewolf glared at him. “You didn’t answer my question. What happened?” When Cyrus rolled his eyes, he growled. “And don’t tell me ‘nuthin’, cuz that’s a pile of shit. Tell me the truth!”
Cyrus scowled. “A lot of shit, okay? And I really don’t want to talk about it. So lay the fuck off.”
Xanthir looked hurt. “I was just worried about you. Jeez. See if I ever help you again.”
Cyrus sighed and rolled his eyes. He cast a silencing ward around them. “Fine. I got captured, my magic got sealed, and I used death magic to escape. Happy?”
Orange eyebrows rose in surprise. “Your magic got sealed? Wow. You must’ve pissed off somebody with a looot of money or a lot of influence.” Cyrus snorted. “Though it makes sense that you could get free with your death magic. They’re totally different, after all. Like faerie magic and human magic; the laws of one don’t apply to the other.”
Cyrus frowned. “I hadn’t really thought about it. I was just really angry.”
The werewolf grinned. “Remind me never to piss you off.” They both chuckled. “But still, you okay? No lastin’ damage?”
Cyrus smiled. “Yeah, I’m fine, thanks. And thanks for sending Snape that note.”
He nodded. “No problem. Hey, I was wonderin’ if you could help me with the homework for last Runes class. I know you weren’t there, so I’ll give you a copy, but you probably know better how to answer them than-“
“Excuse me?”
The werewolf cut himself off in surprise, and Cyrus turned to the left to see a grey demon standing there, his wings and tail twitching every now and then. The human blinked. “Yeah?”
The demon bit his lip nervously for a moment before seeming to gather his courage. “You helped me during class a week ago, and I wanted to talk to you about it but I haven’t been able to find you,” he said softly.
Cyrus gave him a weird look. He recognized the demon from his Weapons and Battle class, but what did it matter that he’d helped the guy? “What’s it matter?”
The demon stared. “You helped me, so I owe you a debt.”
“You don’t owe me anything. I didn’t fix your leg or help you cross the beam because I wanted something from you. I did it because…” He frowned in thought. “I dunno, because I’m human?” He shrugged. “Anyway, to reiterate, don’t worry about it.”
Yalmireth shook his head. “It is custom among my people that debts are paid in full. Always. Is there truly nothing… that you want?” He glanced at Xanthir.
The werewolf grinned. “Don’t let it bother ya. Cyrus is a weird human.” He held out a hand. “I’m Xanthir. What’s your name?”
The demon stared at the hand for a moment before slowly taking it. “Yalmireth.” They shook.
“Nice meetin’ ya, Yalmireth. Why don’t you pay off your debt by being this antisocial ape’s friend? He doesn’t get out much.” Cyrus cast a hex at the werewolf that had his hair turning neon pink, but said werewolf just grinned. Yalmireth watched with a bizarre look on his face. “See what I mean? Can’t make friends, the poor thing.” This time Cyrus conjured a small rock to fall on his head. It hit with a thump, and Xanthir gave Cyrus a wounded look as he slid out of his chair and hid behind the table. “But you might wanna be careful. This job is dangerous to your health.”
Cyrus rolled his eyes and pulled out his Runes homework. “Get your arse back up here Xanthir and give me the homework that’s due next class.”
Xanthir pulled himself back into his chair, grin still plastered on his face. He turned to Yalmireth. “You’re welcome to stay or leave. We’re goin’ to be talkin’ runes, though. Hope ya don’t mind.”
The demon shook his head and sat at the end of the table.
“Perfect!” Xanthir grinned and slammed his runes binder on the table. “Now, you trouble magnet. Help me with this equation.”
Cyrus rolled his eyes. “Sometimes I think you only keep me around to help you with your homework.”
Xanthir pretended to be offended. “I do not! I just believe it’s common sense to take advantage of an asset, is all.”
The human grinned. “Sure. Whatever.” He looked at Yalmireth, who was watching the exchange curiously. “He’s always full of shit. Don’t believe a thing he says.”
“I am not!”
Yalmireth’s lip twitched slightly in amusement.
oOo
Wednesday rolled around without any horrible incidents, so Cyrus considered Tuesday a successful and safe day. And now he had a demon for a friend, even though said demon seemed to be antisocial and a little… weird. The demon had sat with them a lunch, even though he didn’t say much, so Cyrus had been pondering his eccentricities as he made his way to Necromancy. As he walked through the door, he shook thoughts of Yalmireth from his head. He had other things to think about now, like how he was finally going to be able to raise something from the dead! Intentionally, that is. The basilisk didn’t really count.
He sat down in one of the chairs at the back, not wanting one of the other students at his back. He wasn’t particularly liked in this class.
The door to Yankovich’s office closed with a slam as the demon strode into the classroom. Cyrus couldn’t tell if the demon was angry or just being his normal abrasive self.
“Good afternoon, class. I’m glad that we’re all here.” Cyrus felt heat creep into his face as some of his classmates turned around to look at him. “We’re going to the graveyard again, but first I’m going to ask for any late assignments to be put on my desk. Some students seem to think that they’ll be able to pass this class without doing the paperwork. If you are one of these students, I would like to advise you that while the practical holds more weight in this class, if you don’t hand in 70 percent of the assignments you automatically fail this course. Now, get up here and grab onto the rope.”
They portkeyed to the graveyard.
It wasn’t the same graveyard that they’d been using before. This one was a little more derelict.
“Does anyone recognize this graveyard? No? Good. Start listing important things about this location, and problems as a necromancer you may encounter while raising the dead here.”
Some of the students started talking among themselves curiously. The first brave soul said, “Um, the headstones aren’t clearly marked? You may have trouble finding a specific person you’re trying to raise?”
Yankovich nodded. “Yes, that’s true. But I’m looking for a specific answer to my question. Does anybody else have any ideas?”
“The graveyard hasn’t been well-taken care of. There may be mix ups?” Zirala, the vampire at the head of the class, hazarded a guess.
Yankovich nodded again. “Yes, that is also true. But still not the answer I’m looking for.” His eyes met Cyrus’s over the heads of the other students. He raised an eyebrow at the human who was standing at the back of the group.
Cyrus frowned. What could be wrong with this location that hadn’t already been suggested? Closing his eyes, he cautiously pulled a sliver of death magic out of the well suppressed under his core. Stretching it out like a net, he sank it into the ground below them. His frown deepened. All he could sense was the dead, evenly spaced apart in their graves. There had to be something though, so he pulled on more death magic and sent the net deeper into the earth. Finally, he found it, and a gasped “Holy shit” escaped him before he could censor his mouth.
“Mr. Obsidian?”
Cyrus opened his eyes to see the entire class looking at him curiously. He flushed. “P-professor. Is that a mass gravesite? There are so many dead I can’t keep count.”
Yankovich grinned. “Very good! There was a landslide here a couple hundred years ago, and it covered up the remains of a battlefield under a good 100 feet of soil. Since then, a graveyard was placed on top. Mr. Obsidian, can you tell me the difficulties that you as a necromancer might face one day if you don’t properly examine the gravesite?”
Cyrus winced. He’d read about this when writing one of his essays nearly a month ago. “You could accidentally raise too many dead, or if you magic ensnared one of the dead from deep underground, the power required to raise one of those dead could be sucked out of you and you could die.”
The demon nodded. “Very good. If you’re not careful when picking your gravesite, you may run into complications that could result in your death or countless others. So you always check for unpleasant surprises before you even try to raise a zombie. Now, in today’s class we’re going to practice trying to raise one of the zombies in that mass gravesite without raising them all. This is a lesson in control.”
The blood rushed from Cyrus’s face. He had to raise one of those zombies? He’d never successfully raised even a normal one before, though! Swearing under his breath, he watched as Zirala was once again the first to give it ago. He felt his hopes crumble when even the vampire failed the first time. Yankovich had to sever the connection to keep the dead from sucking the death magic out of him.
He was screwed.
“Mr. Obsidian, why don’t you give it a try?”
The human blinked and stared at Yankovich in horror. What a jerk! Biting his lip, he made his way to the front of the class, doing his best not to look the other students in the eye. He didn’t want to know what was running through their minds. Jerkily, he came to a stop in front of Yankovich, ignoring the way Zirala snorted and muttered something derogatory under his breath. The teacher pretended not to notice and raised an eyebrow at Cyrus.
“Well? Give it a go. I want you to just raise one of them. The difficulty with this exercise is you have to move your death magic past the surface dead, and only raise one of the zombies once you get it a hundred feet into the ground.”
Cyrus bit his lip and nodded. Closing his eyes, he pulled a strand of death magic out from under his core and sent it down into the earth, stubbornly not letting it enter the surface dead. It made it half of the distance before it thinned to the point of no longer being useful. Frowning, he pulled out a few more strands and sent them down too. They thinned before making it all the way. He bit his lip. Damnit! How was he supposed to get his death magic all the way down there?
He heard a snort behind him, and it snapped his concentration. “Of course the human can’t do it, Professor. He hasn’t raised a single dead since we started this class.”
Cyrus tried to ignore the annoyingly pompous voice of Zirala, but it was hard. Biting his lip, he tried to remember the time he’d raised the basilisk. What had he done differently? ‘It felt like a wave, but then it raised almost every dead creature in the castle… how do I get it to raise only one?’ Trying to remember the feeling, he pulled his death magic back out of the ground. Maybe he was approaching it wrong? He used threads to sense the existence of the dead, but maybe he needed more to actually raise one? Mentally shrugging, he pulled up a huge ball of necromancy and hurtled it into the ground.
He joined it, this time. It felt like he was in the magic as it sank happily into the ground in search of the dead below. This time, he managed to reach the dead, but he kept the death magic tightly wound into the ball as he searched for a dead body that was mostly intact. He found one on the far side of the grave and sent his magic into it, reining it in when it tried to jump into other bodies nearby. He forced every last drop of it into that single body, and then commanded it rise. When it seemed to be managing on its own, he opened his eyes.
“See? He’s useless. I don’t see why he’s been allowed to stay in this class when he can’t even use his de-“ When Cyrus turned to Zirala and smiled, the vampire cut himself off mid-speech. Brown eyes widened as the vampire took a step back. “Y-your eyes are black.”
Cyrus blinked, about to conjure a mirror and check himself when he felt his undead finally reach the surface and begin to claw its way out. Following his connection with it, he walked past Zirala to find it. The class followed as he made his way to the edge of the graveyard to where a human stood in the darkness. He frowned. But he could sense that this was his undead. He turned to Yankovich, confused. “Shouldn’t it only be skeleton, Professor?”
The demon didn’t say anything, walking to the dead body and running his hand across its face. The undead, a man, didn’t seem to notice the demon inspecting it, for its attention was solely fixed on Cyrus.
“How much death magic did you use, Obsidian?”
The human shrugged. “Well, I tried using threads, but they wouldn’t reach, so I used a ball.”
The demon stared at him. “In future, Obsidian, don’t use so large a ball as this. The zombie is fit to bursting with death magic. I don’t know how you managed to fit it all in this tiny shell.”
Small murmurings of ‘cool’ passed through the class as a few took cautious steps forward to get a closer look. Aside from the zombie’s clothes, it looked as if it could have walked off the street. Zirala was the only one who didn’t look impressed as he sauntered forward and grabbed the undead’s chin and yanked the face from side to side. “It’s not all that impressive,” he commented indifferently.
Cyrus scowled. The vampire was so full of shit. Never in all of their classes together had Cyrus ever seen Zirala pull a zombie out of the ground that wasn’t rotting. He wished the vampire would just pull his head out of his arse. The undead’s eyes, which had been trained worshipfully on Cyrus, snapped to the vampire next to it and grabbed his throat before he could move away. Zirala’s eyes bugged out of his head as he was lifted off the ground. Hands that Cyrus knew could break a human in half pulled at the hand around his throat to no effect.
Yankovich looked fascinated. “Interesting. It anticipates the necromancer’s wishes and seems able to reason a suitable course of action.” When the hand tightened and Zirala’s choking was cut off from the pressure, he smirked. “Next time, Mr. Zirala, you might not want to piss off a necromancer more powerful than you. It lowers your life expectancy.” He turned to Cyrus. “Order your zombie to let go before I lose one of my more promising students.”
Cyrus watched as the vampire’s face began to turn blue before he sighed. “Release him,” he ordered. His eyes widened when the zombie looked at him but didn’t obey. He frowned, eyes flashing to Zirala, whose eyes were beginning to roll up in his head. He let his death magic explode from under his core and fill his body to the brim. “Release him.”
Finally, the undead obeyed, and Cyrus felt a chill other than the death magic sucking the heat out of him as he read reluctance in that face. It couldn’t feel… could it?
Zirala collapsed to the ground, heaving hair into his lungs. Contrary to popular rumour, vampires did need to breath just like every other living species out there. They weren’t ‘dead’ like in the muggle novels, their bodies just ceased to function while the virus transformed them into a vampire, and then afterwards started up again. It was the same as with werewolves. All diseases had been thought of as ‘curses’ before muggle medicine advanced enough to shed the light on pathogens.
Before he knew what was happening, Zirala was running at him with a furious expression on his face. Before he could rip Cyrus in two, however, the zombie seemed to appear in front of Cyrus, its sword naked and glinting in the light, and the vampire abruptly changed course to run to the side.
Yankovich looked annoyed. “Zirala! You will cease this stupidity immediately. You insulted the zombie and its owner, so don’t take your anger out on the human when it’s your own bloody fault you almost got strangled to death!”
Zirala glared and disapparated with an angry crack.
“The rest of you can leave as well. We’ll be back here on Friday and you can give it another try. Dismissed! Not you, Obsidian. You and I are going to have a chat.”
Cyrus plunked himself onto a nearby headstone in dismay, his eyes flashing between the zombie still poised in defense and the demon who looked very annoyed. The undead was watching Yankovich warily, its sword still held in a defensive position.
When all the students disapparated, Yankovich seemed to calm down slightly as he sat down across from Cyrus on a headstone of his own. As his anger diminished, so did Cyrus’s feeling of threat, and the zombie sheathed its sword. Both human and demon stared at it as it seemed to take a military ‘at ease’ position, eyes forward and staring at nothing.
Yankovich broke the silence with a chuckle. “Only you, Obsidian. It makes me wonder what you could do if you used that death stick of yours as a channel.” He shook his head, eyes taking turns between examining the zombie and the human across from him.
“Professor?”
The demon blinked. “Yes?”
Cyrus bit his lip. It wasn’t a really appropriate question given the situation, but he still wanted to know. “Why do you call them zombies?” Yankovich blinked. “I mean, the wizarding world calls them inferi, and normally the books in Shikaan refer to them as the undead, or inferi, so I was wondering why you call them… you know, ‘zombies’.”
Yankovich grinned. “I got curious a while back and went on a huge zombie movie marathon.” He shrugged when Cyrus stared at him in shock. “What? Just because I’m a demon I can’t take advantage of muggle technology?”
“N-no, it’s not that. It’s just… You don’t really seem like the kind of person to sit in front of a TV and…” he trailed off, wishing he’d never said anything, but Yankovich didn’t seem to be annoyed with him. He watched the demon nervously as he shifted the weight of his wings and stood from the headstone.
“I guess.” The demon shrugged. “Now, back to this amazing work of death.” A look of intense fascination took over Yankovich’s face as he poked the zombie’s cheek. He kept poking until the zombie turned eerie eyes on him and glared. The demon grinned. “See? There’s enough death magic in this thing to reanimate its brain tissue, even though it’s a couple hundred years old. That takes power, Obsidian.”
Cyrus ran a nervous hand through his hair. “I didn’t mean for that to happen.”
Yankovich grinned. “Exactly. What you did was completely without the intention. Do you know how many necromancers it normally takes to get a zombie this old regenerated to the point where it has higher brain function?” The human shook his head. “Five, at least!”
Cyrus frowned. “So, does this mean I’m some kind of death magic super freak, or what?”
Yankovich frowned in thought. “Generally the growth of death magic reflects the growth of normal magic. The way it works is that natural and death magic must either find balance within their host or one wipes out the existence of the other. That’s why there are so few necromancers out there. When the natural magic overpowers the death magic, they are a normal magical being, but when the death magic overpowers the natural… you have a stillborn.” When the human stared at him in incomprehension, the demon sighed. “What I mean to say is, the reason you have so much death magic is because you have so much natural magic. The growth of one stimulates the growth of the other. So for instance, if you had some sort of experience in your childhood that stimulated your death magic, your natural magic would have to grow just as much to keep a balance. To keep you alive.”
“Oh. So, I’m a natural and death magic super freak.”
Yankovich rolled his eyes. “Just because you’re powerful doesn’t make you a freak, Cyrus. It just makes you a very useful colleague to have.” The demon grinned.
Cyrus nodded thoughtfully. “Alright, so what do we do about this guy?” He pointed at the zombie.
Yankovich ‘hmmed’. “Well, you could keep him as a body guard or put him back to rest. It’s your decision, really. The death magic that’s keeping him alive – or dead depending on how you look at it – is already being regenerated. If you’re going to pull the magic out of him, I’d suggest you do it quickly. Or I could put him to rest for you.”
The zombie, who had been staring off into space, turned to look at Yankovich with a blank expression on his face. Cyrus found himself creeped out. Cautiously, he stood up, and the zombie turned its attention back to him. Peering into the dead eyes that seemed to almost house thought behind them, he opened his mouth to speak. “Can you talk?”
“What are your orders, Master?”
Cyrus jumped back two feet in surprise. Was it just him, or did the zombie look amused? “Okay, you can talk. Can you think for yourself?” The zombie looked confused. “If I asked you who you were in life, would you know the answer?”
“Yes.”
When the zombie didn’t say anything else, Cyrus’s lips quirked slightly in amusement. “If I asked you whether you were capable of wanting things, would you know the answer?”
“I would.”
“What’s the answer then?”
“I would inform my master that while I am capable of wants my foremost desire is to serve.”
Blond eyebrows rose in surprise. “Huh. Oookay… Um… Do you want to go back to being dead?”
“I will fulfill my master’s desires. If you desired that I go back to sleep, I would do so.”
Cyrus turned to Yankovich. The demon frowned. “I would be uncomfortable with a zombie permanently under your control at your level. You don’t have enough experience with the undead in case the shit hits the fan. So you should put him back.”
The human bit his lip. “But what if he has a soul?”
Yankovich shook his head. “You should have already read about this in the assigned reading, Cyrus. No raised dead has a soul. They merely possess the same neural connections in their brain, which allows them to appear ‘alive’. And this is only if you have enough juice to power that kind of regeneration of memory.”
Cyrus nodded, making his decision. “I would like you to go back to rest.”
The zombie nodded its head. The death magic was released from the skeleton, and with its disappearance the flesh melted into nothingness. Cyrus blinked when the bones and armour fell onto the ground with a racket. He winced.
Yankovich grinned. “Next time get the zombie to go back to its grave.” He laughed. “Not bad for your first raising! You’d better hurry up before you’re late for your next class.”
“Thanks, Professor.”
The demon grinned. “Don’t thank me yet. You and I have to get together for a couple of private lessons, you’re so far behind. You need to learn control, otherwise you might end up raising this entire graveyard by accident.” Cyrus nodded. “I’ll contact you with the times. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to fit you into my schedule before Christmas.” When Cyrus indicated he understood, the demon vanished with a soft pop.
Cyrus grinned slightly as he ran a hand through his hair. What a day. And it wasn’t even over yet. He made a face at the thought of the vampire meeting he had to go to that night.
oOo
“Good, you’re here. I was hoping you wouldn’t chicken out and make a run for it.” Tara smirked, flashing her pearly whites.
Cyrus glared. “And then what, I’d have you after my ass for weeks? No thanks. Best to get it over with.”
“That’s the spirit!” She wrapped an arm around one of his and they disappeared into shadow.
When Cyrus could breath again, he ripped his arm out of Tara’s with a glare. “Warn me next time, damnit!”
She grinned amused, before the expression eerily wiped off her face. “Keep your mouth shut during this meeting unless you’re spoken to. Say no more than you need to, and avoid the question if you can. It’s better to appear mysterious and vague than idiotic. And for the love of blood, don’t under any circumstance insult another vampire. I’d prefer to not have to fight for your soul any time tonight, if it can be avoided.”
Cyrus’s eyebrows rose. “That’s a lot of rules. Mouth shut, don’t insult anybody, and try not to say too much.”
She nodded. “And don’t speak unless directly spoken to, alright? The only ones you can start conversation with are the other humans, but be careful what you say. Some of them have been bred into this life in this realm, not the human realm. That means they could easily have been told to report anything you say to their master. Or worse.”
The human frowned. “Or worse? What could be worse?”
Tara raised an amused eyebrow. “Oh, they could be ordered to seduce you. Or castrate you. Or a number of other unpleasant things. Keep in mind that while we’re here, you represent me, and if you fuck up my name I will remove your manly appendages, are we clear?” By the end of her rant she was right in her face, never mind the fact that she was a foot shorter than him.
“Crystal,” he grumbled, eyes narrowed and not enjoying himself one bit.
Tara smiled. “Good. Now follow me. We’re in an ally about a block from the club.”
Cyrus started walking beside her and she glared. “On my left, two paces back. Make it snappy.” He corrected and glared at the back of her head for a moment before attempting to wipe his face of expression. It would be easier to be stoic than try to anticipate what emotions would not be considered insulting.
Shelby’s Blood Bath was a three story building on the corner of the block literally glowing with red lights. Right above the name’s cursive writing was a pair of lips attached to a neck, dripping blood. Cyrus’s mouth twitched as he tried to keep a grimace off his face.
The noise level when the entered the club nearly made Cyrus’s ears ring with pain. How did vampires, with their sensitive hearing, stand this stuff? He wanted to ask Tara, but doubted that she would appreciate it in this setting. Normally she would give him information or advice for free, but that was only because they were either alone or in her library. Anyone who fucked with Tara in her library would find themselves five books short of their final paper.
Keeping his eyes trained on the back of Tara’s head, he followed her through the crowd of grinding bodies and the heavy scent of blood and sex. He couldn’t keep the momentary grimace off his face as he caught sight of a woman sinking her fangs into another vampire’s dick and licking the blood off him.
After that, he kept his eyes trained worshipfully on Tara’s back.
Eventually they made their way through the crowd to a door that led to a set of stairs. Keeping himself two paces back, Cyrus followed Tara up two floors worth of stairs. When they finally reached the top, he could barely hear the music on the main floor the soundproofing was so good. Or maybe it was magic.
“Tara!” a French accent called from one of the leather couches that sat in the corner of the lounge-like third floor. “We ‘ad been sinking zat you would not come!”
Cyrus kept his eyes on Tara’s back as she weaved between many bodies and made her way to the couch to hug the other vampire. After the hug, he placed a gentle kiss on the back of her hand, eliciting a giggle. “Hey Francois! I wondered if you were going to come. Are we a full house tonight?”
He grinned. “Je pense, oui! Eizer way it is very close.” His gorgeous blue eyes flashed to Cyrus for a moment before looking back at Tara. “Is zis your most recent acquisition? He is very fine, zough I am not partial to blonde ‘air myself.”
She grinned. “Yeah, this is him. He’s got one of those old wizarding family libraries.”
Francois laughed. “I see! Indeed, zat would catch your fancy quite fast, oui. Is he good also for ozer sings? Comme, euh, perhaps under ze covers, non?”
Tara laughed, smacking him on the shoulder hard enough to make him wince. “Of course not, you oaf! You know I prefer the finer sex. They’re more…” she smiled. “Detail oriented.”
Francois’s mouth formed a knowing ‘oh’. “Ah, oui. I see. Very true. Some men are un peu… careless? Rushed? Is zere a better word?”
“No, I think that about covers it. Though I’m sure you would never be careless in bed, Francois.”
He grinned. “Mais non, ma cheri. I am ze epitome of self control.”
Tara grinned and sat down next to him on the couch. She motioned Cyrus towards her with a sharp gesture. When she pointed at the floor, he just barely kept the ‘are you fucking serious?’ look off his face. He sat cross-legged on the floor and kept his head down. What were the rules again? Don’t speak, don’t insult, and don’t… um…
“Now that we’re all here, I’d just like to make a congratulatory announcement. If you’ll all be silent.” The room quieted within seconds, and the following silence was eerie. “Thank you. I’d like to announce that May Divernend and Joshua Tinctoris will be having a newborn eight months from today.” There was polite applause and a few cheers. “So May is off limits to any and all squabbles until her baby is born, understood? Good. If I find out that we have another Jenny Atwoods on our hands, I will slaughter all parties involved. Again.”
Cyrus glanced up in surprise for a moment, catching a glimpse of black hair and pearly white teeth before Tara had put her hand on his head and shoved it back down. He stared sullenly at the floor. Maybe he should have asked how long he was expected to suffer through this. At least then he could have set a stopwatch.
“Second on the list of things to announce – Garius, if I catch that look on your face again you won’t have a face – I’d like to inform you all of a cleansing taking place in the ninth district. They’ve come down with an advanced form of rabies again. So if you were planning on visiting any family there, I suggest you don’t until they have the situation under control. Otherwise you may find yourself not making it back to Shikaan for a couple months. Or ever. That would do wonders for your marks.
“And finally, before we open the floor for discussion, I’d like you all to know that the next scheduled fight for leadership is Friday night, and that the sheet to sign up is posted on the bulletin board. If you try to fight me for the title before then, you won’t wake up the following morning. Any comments? No? Good. Who’s first this week for open topic discussions?”
“Keith!” one of the vampires shouted. A chanted ‘Keith’ started until said vampire made his way up to the podium.
Cyrus wasn’t sure whether the seemingly organized meeting of bloodthirsty vampires creeped him out or not.
“Thanks, everyone. I appreciate the support. First off I’d like to discuss feeding rights in sector 2. They’ve been trying to stop us from feeding there for months now, but they actually have a decent group of higher-ranking fae fighting now for it to be a fang-free zone. I think we need to do something about it! Faerie blood is one of the most delicious foods out there. We can’t let them ban us from the zone!”
Cyrus raised an incredulous eyebrow at his foot. ‘Really. I wonder why they want to ban you. Bloodsucking leeches. How is a ban enforced, anyway…’ he pondered to himself, counting down from ten ever ten seconds to keep himself thinking that the night could end.
The meeting was boring and long, though it gave Cyrus some insight into the way the vampire community at Shikaan worked. He also found out that faeries had, among the best glamours out there, the best ‘notice-me-not’ warding systems. Apparently, whether the vampires wanted it or not, sector 2 was probably going to disappear off the map in the next couple of months. From what he could gather from the meeting, a few faeries had died from being fed on too often, and that had pushed the higher ups in the society to make some drastic decisions.
It was after the ‘business’, however, that Cyrus began having problems.
“Tara! Oh lookey here, you actually have a human servant. I never thought you would, Tara, you’ve always insisted that humans are so below you.” Cyrus decided right away, by the abrasive quality of her voice, that he hated her. And that she was probably blond. Which didn’t leave a high opinion of his own hair, mind. Maybe he should change it back to black?
“Hello, Thumblina. And how fares your harem of eunuchs, if I might ask?”
Cyrus glanced up in time to see a very dirty expression cross the brunette’s face. Drat, he’d guessed the hair wrong. At least he didn’t have to change his own now, though. He quickly looked back to the floor.
“My name’s Thumalina, as you well know, Tara.”
“Oh, my mistake. I must have you confused with someone else.”
“Oh no, It’s my mistake. I must have confused you for a vampire with some intelligence.”
“I must have mistaken you for someone literate.”
“Forgive me,” she fake-sneezed, “but I’m allergic to ugly.”
“Oh I am sorry. You must break out in rashes all the time, as you can’t escape from yourself.”
“Careful what comes out of your mouth, Tara, you wouldn’t want to insult the wrong person.”
Cyrus could hear the smile in Tara’s voice. “Well then I guess I won’t be having any problems in this company, will I? It was so wonderful seeing you again, Thumblina, but I’m afraid I can’t devote all my time to every one of my fans. Have a good Christmas!” There was a pause and then Tara exclaimed happily, completely ignoring Thumalina, “Why hello, Melanie! I haven’t seen you in so long!” She stood up for a moment, gave the new arrival a hug, and Cyrus watched with some humour as the stiletto-heeled feet of Thumalina sauntered away.
“She’s as charming as ever. Did one of her eunuchs fail to satisfy her appetites before she came tonight?” Tara and the new girl giggled quietly.
“I’m sure it was something like that. You’d think she was trying to convince herself she wasn’t madly attracted to me, with the way she picks up those eunuchs left and right.” They laughed raucously together and sat down on the couch. “Move over, Francois, and make room for Melanie.”
“Why, Tara! You wound my ‘eart!”
“Get over it. Now, Mel, give me the low down on the new arrivals. I can’t be troubled to introduce myself to the fresh blood.”
The higher voice giggled. “Of course. Anything for you, Tara.” And they proceeded into a conversation that Cyrus was sure didn’t make any logical sense, with all the weird terms and social references that they made left, right, and center. His eyes were drooping as he leaned back against the couch when he caught sight of a pair of pink eyes inches from his face. He started and tried to move back, but hit the couch.
The high-pitched voice giggled, and Cyrus matched the voice of Melanie to the girl in front of him. Did she really have pink eyes or had she changed them magically?
“He’s got really cute eyes, Tara. Are they enhanced like mine? So many people change their appearance nowadays it’s so hard to know if they’re actually cute or not!”
Tara snorted. “I don’t know, and I don’t really care. I’m not having sex with him.”
Melanie pouted. “But what if I wanted to? I’d want to know if his eyes were natural or not.”
Cyrus felt his blood freeze.
“Why don’t you just ask him?”
Melanie gasped. “Actually talk to it? Gross!”
Tara snorted. “He’s not an it, Mel. Take that tone out of your voice or I’ll rip your voice box out.”
“Touchie, Touchie.” Melanie pouted, apparently not daunted in the least at the threat. “How much would he cost for me to buy from you?”
“I’m not selling him, Mel. He’s a student at Shikaan.”
Melanie’s cotton-candy smile disappeared in an instant, and she took a few steps away. “Oh. Why didn’t you tell me that before I put a potential assassin on my ass?”
“Because it’s more amusing to watch you trip, love.”
Melanie pouted, still eyeing Cyrus carefully. “You’re so mean. I should have guessed, though, with this outfit of his. I thought it was just a sexy snake suit at first, though. It’s basilisk skin, isn’t it?” Cyrus couldn’t see Tara, but she appeared to have answered with some gesture. “Hmm. What’s he good at? Which classes?”
“I dunno, really. Never asked.” She put her hand on Cyrus’s head and ruffled his hair. He resisted the urge to growl. “Cyrus, what classes are you taking? Speak.”
Bitch. “Dark Arts and Their Defense, Weapons and Battle, Necromancy, Healing, Animagus, Wandless, and Runes.”
Melanie ‘oohed’. “Can you ask him if he can conjure me a rose without a wand?”
Cyrus resisted the urge to roll his eyes when Tara ‘relayed’ the question. “No. I don’t know the spell.”
Melanie ‘tutted’. “Not good. It’s important that every man learn how to conjure flowers for his woman. Unless he’s gay, of course. Or his girlfriend’s like Tara. Do you remember the time that Dar… Um… Darlish? Anyway, that vampire tried to give you roses to get you to go to the dance with him? He was sooo smooth. But you just up and nearly shoved them down his throat.”
Tara chuckled. “His name is Dalesh, love. “
“Oh right! He’s here, isn’t he? I’m sure I saw him with those sluts at some point…”
“You should be careful who you call a slut, my dear. They might consider it an insult,” the familiar voice of Dalesh came through the gentle cacophony of voices.
Melanie’s voice took on a blithe tone. “Slut’s not an insult, handsome. It’s an occupation. It takes full time effort to keep up that level of sex. Doesn’t it, girls?”
The two girls hanging off Dalesh’s arms hissed, but didn’t say anything. Cyrus privately thought that perhaps they weren’t up to the task of the flowery speech of vampire politics. The human would happily admit his own ineptitude if it meant he could escape this place any sooner.
Dalesh didn’t say anything for a moment. Then, his voice turned mocking. “Why Tara, I didn’t think you’d actually bring your new pet to this meeting. Touring him, are you? There isn’t much to see, really.”
Tara placed a hand on Cyrus’s head and began running her claws through his hair. What was she doing that for? “Actually, there’s plenty to show off. Apparently he’s an up and coming necromancer. Rumour has it that your brother, Zirala, got hung out to dry in Necromancy class today. Strangulation by Zombie. It’d make a great title in the school newspaper.”
Dalesh grimaced. “Really, Tara. Don’t use that plebeian speak here of all places. I know you like to read those muggle tabloids, but you really shouldn’t display your human-loving nature here.”
Tara hissed at him. “Careful, Dalesh. I wouldn’t want your words to be mistaken for an order. I might introduce you to my blade again. We both know what happened the last time.”
“Of course. What did the human offer to your for your protection, Tara? Perhaps he keeps you company during those lonely nights without your Amelia.”
The silence was deafening. Some of the vampires nearby had stopped mid-conversation to turn their attention to the events unfolding before them. Cyrus could feel the cold energy of Tara zap down his spine from the contact in his hair. Her hand tightened their grip, their strength pulling on his scalp and their claws raking gouges in his skin. He couldn’t suppress the groan that escaped his lips or the shudder of his body as he forced it not to move away from the pain.
Smelling the blood, Tara removed her hand, and Cyrus could hear her licking the blood off her fingers. He watched Dalesh’s face as the vampire watched Tara with heat in his eyes. Was the vampire still getting off on his blood, or what?
He sighed in relief and healed the wounds with a small burst of healing magic to his scalp. Who was Amelia?
“Oh, I’m sorry. I was merely asking what we were all thinking, I hope you understand. He’s such a fine specimen of human beauty. Of course, he cannot hold a candle to the beauty of Amelia.”
“You would do well to be silent, Dalesh, before you are silenced forever.” Cyrus had never heard Tara’s voice so cold.
The vampire didn’t seem to notice. “I was only asking out of concern for your well-being, Tara. It would be better if you spent your affections on one deserving of them, after all. Or maybe you found a better lover than Amelia? She was lacking in a certain grace. I could understand your reasoning for not being seen with her again.”
“You know very well that she’s dead, Dalesh. You should be careful insulting the dead when they’re not here to defend themselves.”
Dalesh snorted. “Really? But I have not insulted anyone, Tara. I was merely observing your fascination with this human.”
Cyrus felt anger on Tara’s behalf. Obviously this ‘Amelia’ meant a lot to her, and the fact that she was dead, well… that was low. Low even for Dalesh. His eyes narrowed.
“After all, such fascination really does not flatter the skill of your past lover. And oh, she was skilled.” He leaned forward and whispered. “I had quite the taste of her before she disappeared forever.”
Cyrus heard the leather behind him creak under the strength of Tara’s claws. What was Dalesh implying?
“She would never sleep with the likes of you, Akkad.”
Dalesh’s mouth formed an ‘oh’. “Wow, we’re reduced to clan names now, Bast. And no, she didn’t sleep with me.” He smirked. “There wasn’t a bed involved.”
Cyrus heard the leather begin to tear.
“They never did find the vampires that raped and killed her, Akkad. Are you implying that you were involved in some way?”
Dalesh adopted an innocent expression. “I have no idea what you mean, Tara. They never found any evidence.”
It felt like a cube of ice had been dropped down Cyrus’s spine. Dalesh had done that to Tara’s girlfriend? Why wasn’t anyone doing anything? Why wasn’t Tara? He had basically admitted to raping and killing Amelia without ever saying the words! Why wasn’t he dead on the ground?!
Furious on Tara’s behalf, and never quite liking Dalesh in the first place, Cyrus unleashed his magic and sent a wandless cutting curse at Dalesh’s dick. The vampire dodged the attack fast enough that it only sliced his hip in half. Blood gushed onto the varnished floor.
“How dare you attack me, you pitiful human!” Dalesh’s easy confidence was destroyed as he held a hand to his hip and tried to hold the wound shut. He turned to Tara. “Your human servant attacked me! I will cut off his head!” Dalesh cried out, pulling a sword from its sheath on his back, ignoring the female vampire on his side that had gotten sliced as well. She was crying pitifully on the floor, her ‘twin’ casting healing spells on her. At least one of them was competent.
Tara started laughing cruelly, and it silenced every conversation in the room with finality. “You forget, Dalesh, that as I am his owner he is my responsibility to protect.” Cyrus looked up to see Tara with the darkest look of sick pleasure he had ever seen on a vampire’s face, the glow of her crimson eyes burning with her fury as she summoned her rune-covered sword to her hand. “Thanks for giving me every excuse to kill you, Dalesh.”
The vampire’s look of horror was still etched on his face even as his cleanly cleaved body split down the middle and fell to the floor with a spray and gurgle of blood.
Tara turned to Cyrus with a grim set to her lips. “Normally I’d punish you for such blatant disregard to my authority, but this time I’ll make an exception.” She held out a hand to pull him off the floor. “We’re leaving.”
Cyrus, one side of his face covered in rapidly cooling blood, grasped her hand.
It had been the abrupt end to the evening he’d been wishing for.
They disappeared into the shadows and reappeared in a room Cyrus had never seen before. Tara immediately let go of his hand and stalked over to a large window. She crossed her arms over her chest and stared into the darkness of the night.
Cyrus slowly stood up, watching Tara warily. He wasn’t entirely sure she was stable.
They stood in silence for a couple of minutes before Tara let out an angry breath and ran her hands through her hair. She ran a hand over her face, and Cyrus wondered if she had been crying. He didn’t think he’d ever know, though. When she turned around, her red eyes were serious and still glowing, and there was no trace of tears on her cheeks.
“I don’t know if I should thank you or kick your ass.”
The human shifted on his feet, wondering if he should prepare to make a break for it.
“There’s going to be consequences for killing Dalesh, you know. He’s one of the direct descendents of the Akkad clad.” Tara’s face gave nothing away.
Cyrus frowned. “What kind of consequences?”
Tara shrugged. “I was within my rights to kill him, as he threatened to kill my human servant. However, they could also argue that you attacked him first, and that as my servant, you represent me. It depends, really, on how willing to listen the clan leaders are. I doubt Sargon himself will get involved. If he does, though, Amenirdis will respond in kind.”
Cyrus frowned. “Who are Sargon and Amen-er…”
Tara glared at him. “Amenirdis. They are two of the five elders, and Sargon is the First.”
Blond eyebrows rose. “’The first?’ What’s that mean?”
“The oldest vampire, you idiot.”
-Toki Mirage-
Another chapter that wasn’t intended to be this long, but here it is. Some of you might think it’s filler, but you should know that everything that happened in this chapter was necessary. Aftermath is important. :) Christmas comes next chapter, people! And where will Cyrus spend this holiday? Remus finally makes an appearance after being neglected for many a chapter. And so does Snape, for those of you who like him.
Thanks for reading!
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Bloody Skies