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
- 18
- 19
- 20
Bloody Skies
oOo
WARNING: There is violent and gory material in this chapter that earns this story its rating of M for Mature audiences. Chances are if you’ve stuck with me for this long, however, that this is just your cup of tea.
oOo
Chapter Nineteen:
oOo
Cyrus sat at their table in the Main Hall and let his head fall forward and connect with wood. Runes class had been a disaster. Just like he expected. Thankfully, no one else in the class had done better than him, and Rivehn had basically written off the assignment as ‘practice’. They had a new assignment now, based off the old one, and so the hell started aaall over again. It was never ending. All he wanted was a short break, a reprieve from the hell he’d been through for the past two weeks, and did he get it? No. Remus got poisoned by Voldemort, and Cyrus had to go back to class.
Katherine was with the werewolf, making sure he was recovering nicely – which he was. Thank Merlin. Cyrus had still placed a monitoring charm on him, though, not a hundred percent sure the mediwitch was competent or trust worthy yet. Though, Remus seemed to think she was loyal. Otherwise she probably would have been kicked out already. Cyrus had wanted to stay with him for lunch, but the werewolf had sent him back to school with a chastising eyebrow, stating that he was doing fine and that Cyrus was already spending too much time at Spinner’s End.
Eugh. He lifted his head from the table and let it drop again, hoping he would get lucky and the blunt trauma would knock him unconscious. He was beginning to wish he’d just said ‘fuck it’ and skipped today, regardless of the Runes assignment due, and stayed with Remus, even thought the werewolf would lecture him. Maybe he’d stop if Cyrus took him along on a vacation to Tahiti. They could both use a day off life.
“What’s up, Cy? You disappeared after Runes ended lookin’ a little depressed,” Xanthir said cheerfully, clapping him on the back.
Flinching slightly at the touch, Cyrus groaned as all the tense muscles in his back tightened even more and started a pressure headache behind his eyes. Weapons and Battle class hadn’t been pleasant either. Ouragan had all the humans doing strength training so their bodies would be capable of executing the moves he was teaching them, so his entire body felt like lead and ached unpleasantly. “Rivehn is evil,” he muttered into his arms. It came out completely muffled.
“What?”
He pulled his face off the table and glared slightly at the werewolf, bringing a hand up to try to massage some of the tension out of his neck. He was soaking in a hot bath tonight for an hour. Period. “Rivehn is evil.”
The orange-haired ball of energy grimaced. “Aaah. I agree. He gave us an assignment almost exactly the same as the last!”
Cyrus grunted.
“Uh huh,” the werewolf continued. “It sucks. I know we haven’t gotten our marks back yet, but I know I failed.” He sighed. “Maybe the second time ‘round we’ll do better.”
Cyrus glared half-heartedly at him. “Riiight.” His mind wasn’t really on the class anymore as he put his elbow on the table and planted his chin in his hand, staring listlessly at the menu in front of him. Really, he was starting to just not care. About classes, or vampires, or Yalmireth, or Ashawyn, or… Seeing that Xanthir had already ordered, he pushed such thoughts out of his head and browsed his own menu.
Yalmireth sat down at that moment in the seat directly across from Cyrus, instead of next to him as per usual. Xanthir got a funny look on his face as the demon said nothing and ordered his lunch.
“What’s up, Yal?” the werewolf asked after an awkward silence, leaning forward. “You’re lookin’ a little down today, too.”
Yalmireth said nothing, not even looking up from the plate that had appeared.
Cyrus’s eyes narrowed, feeling an irrational anger cut through his listless fog. What the fuck was the demon’s problem? “So what, now you won’t speak to Xanthir either? What crawled up your ass and died?” the human snapped, trying to quell his anger by turning his attention back to the menu in his hands. He stabbed at the Nashvenath he saw in the fae section, and a plate of red noodles appeared in front of him with a side of the fae version of a fruit salad. Pushing the noodles around on his plate with angry movements, he contemplated just leaving the Main Hall all together. He didn’t want to deal with Yalmireth anymore.
Now Xanthir was looking at them both funny. After an awkward silence, he muttered unintelligibly under his breath and fixed his eyes to his plate, pretending that the tension level hadn’t just skyrocketed.
Finally, as Cyrus’s magic started crackling in the air due to his ire, Yalmireth looked up with his mouth open, paused, and then glared. “So now you are eating fae dishes as well as sucking fae cock?”
The food that Cyrus had angrily shoved into his mouth sprayed across the table in utter stupefaction. Choking, he gaped at the demon sitting across from him. “E-excuse me?!”
Xanthir stared.
The demon raised a derisive eyebrow. “You heard me. That fae had his hands all over you yesterday.”
Cyrus spluttered for a good ten seconds, at a complete loss for what to say, but then the anger from before returned and churned in stomach. His fists clenched in surprise, and he put his fork down before he was tempted to melt it into a misshapen ball of scrap metal. “What- Fuck, Yalmireth! What’s gotten into you?! First you ignore me all class yesterday, and now you say... say… things like that! What the hell?!”
Yalmireth’s expression was inscrutable. “Well, are you?”
Cyrus let out an incredulous, short breath. “It’s none of your goddamned business if I’m socking cock, let alone whose cock I’m sucking! If I even WERE su- You know what. I can’t even fucking believe we’re having this conversation in the first place. What right do you have to-“
“So you are fucking him.”
“How- you- it was just a goddamn kiss!” he shouted, his anger coming to a boil and just exploding out of him as he slammed his fist down onto the table.
It broke.
The force of Cyrus’s attack cracked the circular table down the center, the middle collapsing along the fault line while the edges flew upwards like what happens when you step on a pitchfork and it smacks you in the face. Xanthir managed to dodge before it could clip him, and Yalmireth’s wings pulled him backwards, knocking his chair over in the process…
But Cyrus wasn’t so lucky. One of the sharp edges of the table slammed into his kneecap, cracking it painfully. Swearing, he used his good leg to propel himself backwards, nearly falling over his chair in surprise. As it were, he didn’t fall over the chair so much as off the side of it, hitting the ground with a painful thump. Cursing under his breath at the dual pain in his kneecap and now his ass, as well as the whole fucked up situation he found himself in, his anger exploded again in a burst of magic and sent the table up in flames. It burned to a pile of ash and coal instantly.
“You alright, Cyrus?” Xanthir asked in concern, having moved from his safe distance to Cyrus’s side once the fire finished off the table.
The human muttered ‘fuck’ over and over again under his breath. “No,” he grimaced, sending healing magic into his knee. “Fuck,” he said again. “I broke the kneecap. And cracked my femur. Fucking great.” The pain was starting to get so bad that he had to just block all pain receptors to his brain, otherwise he was going to burst into tears of pain in sheer frustration. Besides, if he couldn’t concentrate, he wasn’t going to be able to fix anything. Sending his healing magic to his knee, he put all the pieces back together like a jigsaw, healed the breaks, reattached the ligaments, and made sure that the cap wasn’t rubbing anything the wrong way when he moved it. It grated a bit when he practiced bending it, so he made a quick adjustment before trying again and deciding it would be okay.
Finished with the immediate distraction, he had to bring himself back to the real world. What the fuck had happened with the table? He wasn’t physically strong enough to break it, so he must have used his magic subconsciously… but he hadn’t felt any magic chan-
“You alright, Cyrus?” Xanthir asked again.
The human, who had been staring blankly at the pile of ash on the floor, blinked and nodded, letting the werewolf help him to his feet. Yalmireth was still standing on the other side of the table, indecision scrunching the muscles in his brow. After a moment, he turned and walked away.
Cyrus glared at his back. “Sure, run like a coward,” he muttered under his breath, but either Yalmireth couldn’t hear him or had chosen to ignore him. Again.
“Uuum, Cyrus? What the hell was that?” Xanthir asked, watching Yalmireth stalk away.
The human grunted, having just removed the block on his pain receptors. “Fuck if I know. He saw Ashawyn kissing me yesterday during lunch, and then he refused to talk to me all Wandless Magic class. Has he ever been an asshole like that to you before?”
The werewolf hummed thoughtfully under his breath. “Nope. I’d say he’s jealous. And I was actually referring to-“
“Jealous? What the hell is he jealous about?” Cyrus snapped, mind having zeroed in on the word.
Xanthir raised an eyebrow. “Never thought I’d have to say this to you, Cyrus, but use your brain.”
The human floundered for a moment before it clicked, and his eyes widened in disbelief. “No… no fucking way.”
The werewolf nodded. “Yep. I could smell it on him. I’ve never seen him so pissed. I mean, he’s like calm and anti social for two months we know him, and then he goes off like this? Usually he’s so… calm. Blank. Now he’s pissed and blank. Kinda creepy, if you ask me.”
“What’s creepy?” Tara asked, walking over to them. Glancing around them for the first time, Cyrus saw heads turning away and sighed. Great. And then Tara saw the pile of ashes on the floor and raised an eyebrow. “What’d I miss?”
Cyrus just let out a sigh and conjured a new table, vanishing the remains of the old one. He was seriously considering that vacation to Tahiti.
oOo
Tara found the whole situation terribly amusing, which annoyed Cyrus to no end. Every time she looked at him now, she’d get this look on her face and eventually dissolve into cackling laughter. He’d actually cursed her a few times, but being a graduated student of Shikaan, she avoided it every time. He was going to plan the most evil prank he could think of. Pink would be involved.
Well, if he could actually hit her. Which he probably couldn’t. But still, he could dream…
And Yalmireth. The demon had a crush on him? He… Cyrus hadn’t even considered the demon in that way. Sure, Yalmireth was… attractive, he supposed, but… He hadn’t clouded Cyrus’s every thought like Ashawyn did. And he was usually so… quiet. Unobtrusive. Well, aside from that time he had shoved Cyrus into a wall and declared his undying friendship. Where had that speech of “I’m your friend, of course I care,” gone to, anyway, he wondered bitterly.
Shaking his head free of his confused thoughts, he plopped down into his seat at the back of the class in Necromancy and waited for the teacher to show up. He wanted to go back to Spinners End and sleep he was so fed up with everything. Unfortunately, just before he could change his mind and skip out anyway, Mikhail strode through the doorway at a brisk pace, gray robes and white hair billowing. Ashawyn, following close behind, gave Cyrus a small wave and the human reciprocated half-heartedly.
The elf came to a stop at the front of the classroom. “For those of you who are unaware, Yankovich has contracted me to cover the Monday and Friday classes he will be missing for the next few weeks. To my side is my apprentice, Ashawyn Thalla. He will be assisting me during class.” Mikhail reached into his pocket, pulled out a folded piece of paper, and began to read. “Apparently you are currently working on multiple, simultaneous raisings.” His eyebrows rose as he continued down the sheet. “And ‘Cyrus Obsidian is to use salt circles far away from the rest of the group, as he is a walking hazard…’ ” The elf cocked an eyebrow and looked up to meet Cyrus’s eyes.
The human, meanwhile, turned red in embarrassment and tried to ignore the snickers of the rest of the class. Zirala turned around in his seat and smirked, mouthing ‘loser’.
Cyrus just barely resisted the urge to turn him orange. Someone had to be the mature one.
Mikhail pulled out his wand and conjured a rope, turning it into a portkey a moment later. The class hurried forward to grab it, and Cyrus ignored the eyes on him as he reached for the rope as well. They disappeared with a twisting sensation not unlike being thrown in the middle of a tornado.
He hated portkeys.
Thankfully, the trip was relatively short. He still managed to fall on his ass though. Most of the humans in the class could land on their feet, but after Cyrus fell every time the nonhumans stopped noticing. Or caring. He wasn’t sure whether to be thankful for that or annoyed.
Sometimes it just infuriated him the way some nonhumans looked at him. Like he wasn’t worth notice. Like he wasn’t considered a threat because he didn’t have fangs or wings or claws. They wrote humans off as if they were lesser beings incapable of intelligent thought just because they were physically weaker. It wasn’t like being incapable of punching through a wall could stop a human from poisoning you or firing an Avada Kedavra.
There were more creative ways to kill a person after all…
“You will all use the proper protective procedures, not just Mr. Obsidian. I have no patience for fools and flesh eating inferi. If you make an error it should be you that is eaten alive. If you have to leave for salt, you fail this class. As necromancers you should always have salt on your person, regardless of whether or not you plan to be raising any inferi. Any questions? No? Good. Spread out through the graveyard and begin. Mr. Obsidian, please remain behind.”
Cyrus sighed and ignored the looks the rest of the class gave him – again. Really. It wasn’t like his being incompetent in this class was a surprise. They should just get over themselves.
“Please explain to me why Yankovich believes you to be a hazard in this class,” the elf said simply, crossing his arms in front of him and slipping his hands into the sleeves. Ashawyn stood off to the side, a curious expression on his face.
Cyrus tried to ignore how the proximity to the fae was already starting to fog his thoughts. “My control… it’s… lacking,” he said lamely, shoving his hands in his pockets.
Mikhail raised a cool eyebrow. “Indeed. And why would he consider you a hazard for this reason?”
Cyrus stared at the intricate broach on the elf’s robes to avoid his eyes. “The time I tried to raise more than one zombie at the same time they went flesh eating.”
Hearing Ashawyn gasp softly, he turned to the ice fae with an annoyed frown. Seeing the sympathetic expression there, he wasn’t sure whether to feel better or even more pathetic. He went with the latter.
“I see. Perhaps if I observe I may be able to help? Has Yankovich himself done anything to fix this… problem?”
Cyrus shrugged. “We were doing private lessons for a while, but he stopped them. Said I had to learn how to raise dead animals, and that when I could make a dead fly dance in the air he’d finally start tutoring me again.”
Mikhail snorted softly. “Only Yankovich would believe such a low form of necromancy would be the solution.”
Cyrus blinked and frowned. “What?”
“There are many methods to refining control. Do you have problems summoning small amounts of yelien or is it that your focus is lacking when you raise them?”
The human frowned. “What’s yelien?”
Mikhail said nothing for a moment before turning to Ashawyn. “What is the human translation? I do not often discuss these matters outside the Guild.”
“Death magic, Master,” Ashawyn answered with a serene expression.
“Ah. They did not create a new word for it? How… bland.”
Cyrus didn’t like slight sneer in his tone.
“Very well. Now that you understand, Mr. Obsidian, if you could answer the question?”
The human nodded, fists slightly clenched in his pockets. “I can draw on small amounts, and large amounts, but nothing in the middle.”
The elf actually blinked, and Cyrus wondered if he was surprised. “And what exactly do you mean by that? Why are you unable to pull moderate quantities of yelien from your core?”
“Er…” Cyrus wished Yankovich were teaching instead. He wasn’t sure he felt comfortable explaining his magical ineptitudes to this guy. “Well, I can draw on small amounts when my magic fills my channels, but if I want to do more than raise one zo- inferi, I have to swap my cores.”
Mikhail got a very interested glint in his eyes. “Indeed? Demonstrate,” he said, walking closer. When Cyrus took a confused step back, he frowned, impatience thinning his lips. “I need to have physical contact to feel the flow of your yelien, human. Please choose a grave and stand still.” He turned to Ashawyn, who was still watching curiously. He snapped something out in a language Cyrus didn’t recognize and the Apprentice left with a disappointed frown. Had the elf sent him to watch the rest of the class?
When Cyrus had been standing there for too long, Mikhail narrowed his eyes. “Well? Go on.”
The creepy crawly sensation was getting worse as the elf got closer to him, and Cyrus tried to push the memories of Macnair out of his mind. He didn’t like the way the elf was looking at him. Like he was… a hunk of meat, or something. Shivering slightly, he sent out his senses for a body not too old and walked over to the grave. Pulling out his salt, he maneuvered it into a circle with a wave of his hand around where the zombie would come out of the ground. Next, he created a second circle within the first. He didn’t take chances anymore.
When the elf’s hand landed on his shoulder, he flinched and actually scrambled three steps away before he knew what he was doing. Turning red in embarrassment at the unimpressed look on Mikhail’s face, he swallowed, steeled his nerves, and moved back into the circle, fixing the line that he’d broken.
How the fuck was he going to concentrate with the man’s hands on him? He kept reminding Cyrus of Macnair.
Feeling nauseous when the hand touched him again, he closed his eyes for a moment and just sank into his magic, where he couldn’t feel those hands on his shoulders. Only taking a few moments to gather his courage, he rejoined the real world and pulled a thread of death magic up from under his core. Sending it out of his body, he kept the thread connected to the core under his core just as Yankovich had taught them months ago. Wrapping it around the dead body in the ground, he raised it from the ground.
It came up without a hitch, but once Cyrus focused on the real world again it took him every shred of his iron will to keep it the tenuous connection from snapping. Focusing his eyes on the zombie in front of him, he tried to remind himself that this was not Macnair, but it didn’t stop the phantom hands from caressing the lines of his chest and trailing down to his-
“Good. Your focus is weak, however. You would do better to concentrate when raising an inferi.”
‘That’s because I can’t concentrate with your grubby hands all over me!’ he mentally snapped, clenching his jaw to keep the words from spewing from his mouth.
“Release it and demonstrate a raising using larger quantities, now,” Mikhail commanded.
Cyrus swallowed. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea, P-professor,” he said, light headed.
The hands on his shoulders tightened. “And why is that, human?” the low voice came darkly in his ear.
Cyrus felt like he was going to puke. “T-the rest of the class. If I lose control, they might get hurt.”
“You will do as I say. If they have followed instructions and have used salt, they will be protected. Now. Demonstrate.”
Swallowing and breathing slowly, trying to keep his stomach down, he did as he was instructed and sucked all his magic back into his core, sloppily. He could see a few odd magical discharges from his body through his half-closed eyes, but ignored them and forced all the magic back into his core. Then, he let lose the mental ‘latch’ on his death magic and staggered as it filled him to the brim. Riding the wave like a rider trying to bring their horse under control, he sent his the death magic out into the graveyard around him. It filled them all. Every body not already filled with death magic, it entered and brought to the surface. This time, Cyrus had the presence of mind to not let it roam completely free, and kept the threads connected to his core before they could break off and go out of control. It was… it was actually easier to keep a handle on them all when he didn’t have to worry about all his death magic just exploding out of him without a warning. Now that the core wasn’t fit to overflow, his death magic settled comfortably around him.
Now if only Mikhail would stop squeezing his shoulders and just let go.
His death magic surged around him and the elf pulled back with a gasp. Letting out a shaking, relieved breath, he stumbled away from the elf and turned around so his back wasn’t to Mikhail. Now that he had a good view, he saw that the zombies had congregated near them and stared at Mikhail like he was a piece of meat. But they didn’t attack.
Mikhail was smiling, gray eyes gleaming. “Fascinating,” he muttered to himself, observing the zombies that watched him as if they posed no threat. He continued to speak to himself in something that was definitely not English.
“Wow, Cyrus,” Ashawyn said, pushing his way cautiously through the throng of bodies. “That was quite the surge of death magic. I was there when you helped power raising a thousand zombies, but still.” He whistled, a bright grin on his face as stepped into the safety of the salt circle.
Mikhail snapped out of his musings with a frown. “Ashawyn. I thought I told you to watch the other students?”
Ashawyn shrugged. “As soon as they felt Cyrus’s death magic they all just left. One of them muttered something about not wanting to be eaten alive.”
Mikhail’s eyebrows rose, and he turned to Cyrus, who was taking in slow steady breaths and trying not to throw up at the sensation of hands still burning on his shoulders. How long would it take for the sensation to end already? And leave him alone? He fucking hated this feeling. Of helplessness, and being sick to his stomach at touch. He’d never been very touchy feely before he came to Shikaan, but he’d never been ready to upchuck after having a stranger – an adult stranger touch him like that.
“Mr. Obsidian? Why do you think they left?”
Cyrus swallowed. “Probably because last time I raised a graveyard they almost got eaten?”
A glint entered those eyes again, and Cyrus felt his skin crawl. “Interesting. And yet this time you kept them in your control. How?”
Cyrus shrugged. “I don’t know. It was just… easier. Once my death magic just exploded, it seemed to… calm? Like it didn’t need to… ‘get out’ anymore.” He purposely left out the fact that the first time it had happened he’d been so surprised
Mikhail nodded. “Yes. That is understandable. If you do not exercise your magic often enough, it begins to overflow and becomes restless. It is understandable that the same thing occurs with your death magic. Perhaps instead of raising animals as Yankovich has told you,” he sneered slightly, “it would be wiser to expend your yelien more often so that it does not overflow?”
The human wasn’t sure it was a good idea not to do what Yankovich told him to do. He could do both, couldn’t he? What did Mikhail have against raising dead animals? Or was it Yankovich that he had a problem with? During the whole Marianna fiasco Cyrus hadn’t gotten the impression that the two liked each other. “Er… I guess so. That would make sense,” he said noncommittally when it seemed the elf was waiting for a response.
“Um, Master Mikhail? I believe the period is going to end in the next fifteen minutes, and with the rest of the class absent, there’s really no point in keeping Cyrus here, right?” Ashawyn asked with a nervous half-smile. Cyrus found it odd that the ice fae could be so self-assured with him and then become so cautious around Mikhail.
But then he saw the severe, annoyed look on Mikhail’s face and decided that it wasn’t so odd.
“Why should I end a class when there is still one student willing to learn?”
Cyrus grasped the possible escape with two hands. “Actually, professor, I really do need to go.” When Mikhail turned those cold eyes on him, he flinched slightly but managed to cover it with a nervous shuffle. “I- my guardian is sick right now, and I normally don’t have much time between classes, and it’s going to take me around ten minutes to put all these zo- inferi back in the ground anyway.”
Mikhail watched him in silence for a moment, making the creepy crawly feeling return. Finally, he spoke. “Very well. You may begin.”
Cyrus felt a twitch of irritation. ‘You may begin?’ The elf made it sound like Cyrus was- was- like he needed the elf’s permission or something.
He was really beginning to dislike Mikhail. Actually, it went beyond dislike. Maybe it was irrational, but he just felt downright hostile towards the man. It wasn’t just his attitude; it was… something else.
Pushing it out of his thoughts, he set about putting the zombies back in the ground. He had to start with ones and twos, but by the time he’d put the whole graveyard back in the ground, he could put ten in at a time, which was an improvement compared to the last time. As soon as he was done, he drew all his death magic back into its core and let his magic flow freely again.
Seeing Mikhail still watching him, he bit his lip. “Well… thanks for the lesson, Professor,” he said quickly before disapparating, ignoring when Ashawyn tried to say something to him. He didn’t really want to deal with the ice fae at that moment. He just wanted away.
oOo
He ended up skipping Animagus class all together, not wanting to deal with another hour of frustration and meditation while most of the class was learning how to transform their hands and feet. Remus was doing a lot better after a full night of sleep. He’d been awake since before lunch, reading books from Severus’s extensive library and napping on and off.
When Cyrus showed up, the werewolf raised an eyebrow as he looked up from his book. “Cyrus? I thought you had another class?”
The human grunted and plopped down onto the chair next to the werewolf’s bed. A quick scan showed everything to be healing up nicely – Remus would just be tired and short of energy for a few days. “Has Katherine been feeding you?”
Remus looked annoyed. “Yes, Cyrus. I’m doing fine. You needn’t be so protective.”
Cyrus looked up at him sharply from where he’d been spacing out at the sheets. “You almost died, Remus. I think I’ve earned the right to worry. I know exactly how close you were to… to kicking the can, yesterday.”
Amber eyes softened and Remus put down his book. “You did a wonderful job healing me, Cyrus. But you shouldn’t neglect your education.”
The human scowled. “It’s just Animagus class. I’m probably going to fail it anyway.”
Now the werewolf looked alarmed. “What? Fail?”
Cyrus stared stubbornly down at his hands. “Yeah. I can’t find my form. No amount of meditation helps. I’m thinking that if I still don’t manage by the end of this year, I’m just going to drop it and go with something else.”
Remus blinked. “Well… that’s odd. It only took your father and Sirius a few months to find it. You’ve been doing this for… what? Since September?” When the human nodded, he frowned. “I had been under the impression that learning how to transform was the harder part. You have no idea whatsoever?”
“No,” Cyrus muttered, staring miserably down at his hands. Thank Merlin it was Friday. He was looking forward to having the weekend to himself. Aside from his training and Runes homework, he had no other homework. In Wandless Magic he’d managed all the spells, and in Dark Arts and Their Defense they had been given a project that they had a month to finish, so he wasn’t even worrying about that yet… and then Healing. He had a test on Tuesday, but it was practical.
“Cyrus?”
The human snapped out of his thoughts. “What?”
Remus looked concerned. “I was asking what you were thinking of taking next year if you weren’t going to-“ Remus gasped and reached into his shirt, surprising Cyrus into sitting upright. The werewolf pulled out a stone on a chain and held it in his hand, suddenly very pale, sitting upright and throwing the sheets off his legs.
“Remus? What’s wrong? What’s with the rock? And you shouldn’t be getting out of bed, you’re still recovering!”
“I-it’s… Severus. He’s been… he’s injured. And before he fell unconscious I felt- He’s in trouble.” The werewolf grunted and swung his legs over the edge of the bed.
Cyrus stared. “Wait, what? The rock told you that?”
“After Severus got kidnapped during Christmas by Fenrir, we decided that it was a good idea to get some sort of linking objects that could tell us if the other was injured or in trouble. It’s how Severus knew I was poisoned and retrieved me so quickly. And- and now it’s telling me that he’s in danger.”
Cyrus took in a huge breath, held it, and let it out. ‘Here we go again,’ he thought to himself, resigned, his muscles already tensing in preparation for what was to come. “Still. Get your ass back in bed, right now,” he ordered as sternly as he could. When the werewolf gave him a weird look, he tried his best to imitate Pomfrey. “You’re entire body has just gone through a huge trauma, Remus. Every single cell in your body has been damaged by the poison, and magic can’t heal everything! Even if you can walk more than ten feet, are you going to be any help? No. So let me take care of it.”
The man floundered for a moment, staring at Cyrus like he’d grown tentacles on his face or something. “Cyrus, I can’t just sit here and do nothing.”
“Yes, you can. And you will. Even if I have to steal your wand, put a permanent sticking charm on you, and take Katherine out of the wards and kick her out so she doesn’t help you get yourself killed. Again. I can do this. Do you even know where he is?”
Remus sat on the edge of the bed, breathing heavily, staring down at the floor. “I, yes, I do, but he might not be there for much longer.”
“Can you show me a memory of the location so I can apparate?”
The werewolf nodded. “Yes- Severus, he keeps a pensieve. I-I think it’s downstairs in his study.”
Cyrus nodded and stood up. “Alright. I’m going to go get it. You, keep that arse in bed or I will glue you to it. If you disapparate on me, so help me, I will break your legs so you can’t walk.”
Remus’s eyes widened and a guilty expression crossed his face. Seeing it, Cyrus’s eyes narrowed, and before Remus could so much as twitch he put his hand on the man’s shoulder and sent a burst of magic to the base of his spine, basically making him a temporary paraplegic. Remus smacked his hand away and tried to stand. Seeing that his legs were paralyzed, his eyes widened before turning amber with anger. “You can’t keep me from my mate!” he snarled.
“I can and I will. You are in no condition to go anywhere,” Cyrus barked, moving out of the werewolf’s reach when he made a grab for him. “Stay here,” he ordered before going downstairs to get the pensieve, if it was even there. Remus might have lied to get him to leave the room.
When he reached the door, he tried to open it and was shocked. Scowling at the pure paranoia that was Snape, he activated his Rune sight and ‘cut’ the anchor temporarily like he had done in Dumbledore’s office. Mentally holding it in place so it didn’t break apart and dissipate (or activate), he let out a relieved breath when he saw the pensieve sitting on a small table by the wall. Seeing no memories inside, he grabbed it and went back upstairs, putting the ward back in place before he did.
Remus was on the floor, glaring at his legs when Cyrus got there. Rolling his eyes at the man’s tenacity, the human wandlessly moved him back into the bed without coming within reach. He didn’t want a claw to clip him, after all. Next he floated the pensieve over to him. “Well?”
Remus glared at him and pulled his wand. Cyrus prepared for an attack, but the werewolf just put it to his head and pulled out a memory. Cyrus left the room to view it just in case Remus tried to kill him while he was helpless. It only took a moment, and after burning the image into his head he went back into the bedroom. “I’m going to go check it out. Don’t bother asking Katherine to fix your legs. She won’t know how.” Actually, he didn’t know if she knew how or not, but she hadn’t seemed to know what he was talking about earlier with blocking the pain impulses to Remus’s brain, so he was taking a gamble.
The werewolf let out an angry huff and muttered, “Good luck.”
Cyrus nodded, cast a slew of spells on himself to hid him from all senses he might encounter, and disapparated with a silent displacement of air. Normally he didn’t bother putting the concentration into silent apparition, but he didn’t want to fuck this up.
oOo
Cyrus closed his eyes and leaned back into the shadow, trying to comprehend exactly how fucked he was. The house he was scouting wasn’t really a house, per se; it was more like a fortress disguised as a mansion. Muggles with machine guns patrolled the grounds, snipers sat in wait on the roof, and the outside walls were at least six meters tall. Cyrus had had to apparate onto the ledge of a business building a few blocks away and use a magnifying charm on his eyes in order to even see that much. After the time he’d infiltrated Hogwarts and discovered himself sadly lacking in any useful spells, he’d written up a list of shit he needed to learn and worked on it during his free time. The binocular eyes were one of them.
Somehow, he didn’t think he had anything in his arsenal that would help him break into this fortress undetected. Once you got past the machine guns and snipers and rottweilers, there were also the wards on the house itself. Which brought into question whether the owner of said house was actually a muggle. Why, though, if they were magical, would they pay for muggle security guards? And how did the guns work so close to such a high concentration of magic?
It was troubling because it meant he was missing something critical. Severus was a magical vampire. He had a year of Shikaan under his belt as well as the training he went through to be a Death Eater. Who or what had managed to get the drop on him and capture him?
There was no way he was going to get in there on his own. He didn’t even know who owned the building, let alone what he might be up against once he got past the visible security.
Letting out a breath, he disapparated to Shikaan.
Tara, thankfully, was in his room when he apparated without a sound, and actually startled enough by his appearance to knock over the pile of books sitting on the desk near his bookshelf that he had conjured and left there yesterday.
“Cyrus! Make a little nose when you pop in, eh? I coulda mistaken you for someone else and knifed you.”
To the human’s surprise, she was indeed holding a knife in her hand, wand in the other. He gave her a weird look. “Exactly what kind of people are you expecting to just pop into my room at a moments notice? Do I need to pack up all my stuff and take my trunk with me or something?”
She laughed nervously. “Uh, no. I’m not expecting anyone. Nuh uh.”
Rolling his eyes, Cyrus crossed his arms over his chest. “Right. Like I believe that. If you get my library blown up you are going to replace every single text. Don’t think I don’t have a list.” He did, in fact have a list. He’d drawn one up when he first started letting her use the library, in case she tried to swipe a book. Since then he’d come to trust her, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t cautious.
“Right, sooo, what are you doing here? I thought you were looking after your guardian?”
Cyrus let out an explosive sigh and wandered into his kitchen to look for something to eat. Stressing out over crazy muggle security made a guy hungry. “Yeah, well, one guardian gets out of the woods and the other jumps in the snake pit, or so it seems.”
“The fuck? Seriously?”
Cyrus snorted. “Yeah. Remus is healing nicely, and Severus decides that he wants revenge. So he gets the werewolf that poisoned Remus in the first place, tortures some information out of him, and decided to go after the supplier this morning. I don’t know how he didn’t know about the attack in the first place, but he’s taking it pretty badly. He wants to stop it from happening again, I guess.”
He walked back to the bed with his apple and protein bar, too tired to try to cook something. Tara was giving him her ‘I can’t believe the shit you get into’ look. Cyrus couldn't believe it either.
“How in the world would Snape know about Remus getting poisoned before it happened?”
Cyrus blinked. Oh. He hadn’t told her about him being a spy, had he… It was hard keeping it all straight in his mind sometimes. He’d really been talking to himself when he mentioned that, but now he had to cover it somehow… “He knows someone who knows someone,” he said vaguely. He was too tired to pull something amazing out of his ass.
Tara raised an incredulous eyebrow. “Riiight. So why are you here then?”
Cyrus cleared his throat nervously. “Well, actually, I was hoping you would be able to help me. I scoped out the place and there are muggles all over it, but the wards on the building are fucking Akkad level. I don’t know what Severus found, but someone got the drop on him and might be injured. Hell, he might even be dead.”
The vampire tilted her head to the side. “You don’t seem terribly… worried about all this. You and Snape not on good terms?”
Blinking, he frowned. “What? Why do you say that?”
“Well… you’re kind of… shut down. I mean, just yesterday you were freaking out about the Trial, and now this happens, and you’re… taking it remarkably well.”
Cyrus sighed. “Yeah, well. My life fucking sucks this week. I’m just trying to get through this next crisis and hope to reach the light on the other side, I guess.”
Her eyes narrowed and before Cyrus could twitch, she had a knife at his throat. Reacting instinctively, he sent her flying into the wall with a burst of magic and adopted a fighting stance, death stick in one hand and conjured dagger in the other.
Tara grinned. “Pretty good reflexes for a human.” She brushed off her clothes and sheathed her knife, then looked up at him and paused, eyebrow raised. “Oh put the wand away. I just wanted to see if you had zombified or not. I’m not going on a search and rescue mission with someone who doesn’t have their head in the game. I’m not asking to get killed, thanks.”
Cyrus relaxed slightly. “Does this mean you’ll help me?”
She gave him a ‘wtf’ look. “You have to ask? Cyrus, we’re friends. You kill for me, I kill for you- I thought I already explained all this to you yesterday after the Trial.”
He shrugged. “Yeah, well, sometimes people say things and when push comes to shove they toss it in your face.”
Tara snorted. “That’s human logic right there. Vampires might be all for deceiving and twisting the lines, but when it comes to this? Friendship is something we take very seriously, and when that friendship is betrayed there is blood involved.”
“Huh,” Cyrus muttered. He really wished he knew more about vampire culture. He’d tried asking Severus before, but the vampire, after rebuking him without reason quite a few times, had finally admitted that he’d never grown up in Other Realm. Apparently, he was a half-vampire. But as vampirism was a virus, it didn’t matter if you were a half anything because it changed you as much as it did anyone else. Prying that little tidbit from the man had been like pulling teeth. After he’d put together what he could read between the lines and what he remembered of Severus’s violent relationship with his muggle father, which he’d gleamed during the first unsuccessful bought of Occlumency lessons, he’d come to the conclusion that Severus hadn’t been a legitimate child. This had probably been the reason why he’d grown up in Human Realm, as well as the reason for why he had ended up deciding to drop out of Shikaan after spending his sixth year there.
He was really beginning to wish he’d taken Interracial Relations instead of Animagus class. He’d wanted to continue the tradition, though – that and the idea of turning into an animal had seemed cool at the time. Now he just wanted to drop the class if he didn’t have a break through in the next couple weeks. He was sick of wasting his time meditating. Besides, he was taking one course more than a full load anyway. He could probably drop it…
“Cyrus? Hellooo~ Anybody home?”
The human blinked at the hand being waved in front of his eyes. “Huh?” he asked intelligently.
Tara raised an eyebrow. “Focus. Stop spacing out on me. If we’re going to-“
“Taraaa!” Xanthir called out, busting through the door without warning. “I need your help with- Oh, Cyrus! Hey! Where’d you disappear to today? I’ve been lookin’ for you for help with Runes!”
Cyrus raised an eyebrow and traded a look with Tara. “I’m not helping you with Runes homework tonight, Xanthir,” he said simply, sheathing the wand that he hadn’t even noticed jumping into his hand when the werewolf had burst through the door. It had been instinctual.
Xanthir pouted. “Aaaw, why?” he whined. “I want to get as much done as I can this weekend so we can ask lots of questions on Monday!”
Tara hit Xanthir up the back of the head with an open palm, making the werewolf turn his kicked-puppy-eyes on her. “Shut up, Xanthir. Cyrus’s guardian got kidnapped or something. We’re going on a rescue mission.”
It was like a switch had been hit. Xanthir’s expression smoothed from his pout, turning completely serious. “Your guardian got kidnapped? What happened?”
Cyrus sighed. “Remus, my werewolf guardian, got silver poisoning from some dick in his pack. Severus, my vampire guardian, found said dick and brought him to justice, and also discovered some information about there being a supplier.”
Xanthir frowned. “But Cyrus, silver is a common metal. Anyone could be the supplier – you can pick it up at the store.”
Cyrus shook his head. “No, I mean, this was serious silver poisoning. It was cut with Wolfsbane and something else. I had to get Healer Svea to heal Remus. He almost died.” He didn’t really feel like mentioning the fact that he had finished up aforementioned healing. They didn’t really need to know… “And I think Severus went to make sure that it can’t happen again… he was pissed.”
Xanthir’s eyes narrowed. “A special kind of silver poison? I’m coming with you. If there’s a silver poison out there that’s even more deadly than normal silver, the pack needs to know about it.”
Cyrus blinked. “You’re… you sure?”
The werewolf nodded. “Yep! And besides, you’re a friend,” he playfully nudged Cyrus with his elbow, “and friends help friends.” He grinned and turned to Tara, expression fading and being replaced with a curious look. “So, why are you coming?”
Tara grinned wryly. “Cyrus is a friend, too.”
Xanthir’s orange eyebrows crawled into his messy hairline. “Seriously?” he looked between the two of them, surprised. “When did that happen?” he asked, looking miffed. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Cyrus felt annoyed. Even a werewolf seemed to know what ‘friend’ meant to a vampire.
“It happened just yesterday. It wasn’t like I’ve had much time to tell you about it, Xanthir.” She smiled affectionately and punched him in the arm. The werewolf winced. Tara turned to Cyrus. “Anyway, do you have a location? We should probably get going. The clock’s ticking after all. Xanthir, you got your magi-com? We need to be able to contact each other if we get separated or some shit.”
The werewolf nodded, slipping a phone out of his pocket. “Yep.”
She swiped it and started punching numbers in. “Cyrus, give him your magi-com so he can program his number into it. I’m giving him your number myself, since you're still incompetent with the damn thing.”
Cyrus gave the device to Xanthir, shooting an annoyed look at the vampire. “I haven’t had it for very long. Yeesh.”
She rolled her eyes. “For someone who supposedly grew up with muggles, you’re rather slow to pick up the concept of a cell phone.”
He glared. “It wasn’t like I was ever allowed to have one.”
She looked up, completely mystified. “Why ever not?”
Cyrus could tell her that he had been basically neglected and locked in a cupboard until he was eleven, but really didn’t want to go into explaining that right then. So he went with the simplest explanation. “Cell phones cost money.”
She rolled her eyes and muttered about ‘cheap’ and ‘stingy’ before tossing the magi-com back to Xanthir. The werewolf caught it without looking and finished programming his own number into Cyrus’s, thankfully not tossing it at the human and just handing it over instead.
“Alright,” Tara said, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “You wanna take us to this place?”
Cyrus nodded and side-along apparated them to the mansion. Upon arrival, however, Tara got a weird look on her face, grabbed them both by the back of their shirts, and dragged them into the shadows and away. As soon as they surfaced for air again, the human yanked away with a “What gives?”
Tara said nothing for a moment, completely focused on something else. When Cyrus opened his mouth again to question her, Xanthir actually put his hand over his mouth and shut him up with a quiet shush. Confused, Cyrus watched Tara ‘listen’ for a good minute before she finally relaxed and nodded at Xanthir, who let Cyrus go.
“We were almost followed. I tried to get us out as soon as possible, but I wasn’t sure if they picked up my trail or not,” she explained, letting out a breath of air.
The human frowned. “What? We were blocks away. How could they have-“
“You probably alerted them to your presence the first time you apparated in, Cyrus,” Xanthir explained calmly.
Tara nodded. “Whoever owns that place has a vampire in their employ, that’s for sure. When they saw you return, they probably realized that you could be a threat.”
Cyrus grunted and sat down on a nearby crate. Tara had shadow-walked them to a warehouse, it seemed. “Great. So how do we get in now if they know that we’re here?” he asked, kicking a rock on the ground. It did nothing to vent his frustration.
Tara and Xanthir shared a look. “Well, if they have a vampire, I can’t shadow walk us. And if the wards are as good as the Akkad mansion we broke into, the other methods of infiltration probably won’t work…”
“Why don’t you use that blood magic thing of yours, Tara?” Xanthir asked.
Cyrus blinked in surprise. “You know about that?” he asked, confused. Tara had said it was supposed to be a secret.
The werewolf grinned. “Of course. Tara and I have been friends for years, Cyrus.”
“Huh. Okay, but how do we get close enough for her to do her thing?”
Tara looked thoughtful. “Do you still have that rock of yours?”
Cyrus blinked. “You mean that stone that we used for the Akkad break in? No, I don’t. It died when I was on the steps of the courtyard.”
“Oh, right. Do you have anything else hidden up your sleeve? Like that disappearing act that saved your ass?”
He shook his head. “No. I don't know how I got out of the courtyard, or how to do it again, so whatever it was is useless anyway.”
Xanthir got a thoughtful look on his face. “You said there was a vampire, right? Could you find out how many?”
Tara hummed thoughtfully to herself and disappeared into the shadows. A minute later, she appeared again. “There’s only one skulking about, far as I can tell. And seeing as he should have been able to follow us to this warehouse and detect me scouting him, I’d say he’s not very competent. That, or he’s very newly turned. I say we kill him.”
“But what if has check-ins with the big boss? We don’t really have enough info to be just killin’ the guy.”
Tara shrugged. “Yeah, I guess. And what kind of back up should we ex-“ She stopped and turned to Cyrus. “Can you tell how many magical people are in a building with that thing of yours?”
Xanthir looked between the two of them, confused.
“Only if they’re wearing spells or have wands,” he admitted after a moment, not sure if he wanted Xanthir to know about his rune sight.
She nodded. “Alright. How close do you have to be?”
Cyrus blinked and thought about it. He’d never really tested how close he had to be. He could sort of ‘zoom in’ and make layers disappear so he could see what was beyond, but he’d never had reason to test the distance before… “What direction is the mansion in?” he asked. Tara pointed somewhere over his shoulder. He turned around and closed his eyes, not wanting Xanthir to see pupiless, glowing green. Seeing the wards – nothing more than a spec of light from this distance – he focused on ‘zooming in’ like he did in Dumbledore’s office.
His eyebrows rose when it worked. Peeling away layer by layer of the wards and the other spells on the building, he frowned. “It looks like there’s an underground bunker. It’s completely covered in wards, too, and I think there are sort of… escape hatches. Either that or they attach to other buildings involved in… whatever it is that goes on in there.”
“What about magical people?”
“Hmm… I can’t see the vampire. So either he doesn’t use a wand or he’s not magical… In the courtyard there’s a couple magical folk mixed in with the muggles. It’s a good cover, really. Anyone breaking in wouldn’t expect the guys with the machine guns to whip out a wand.”
“And on the inside?”
“Give me a second,” he murmured, frowning in concentration. There were so many floors… And it was amazing that he could even see the architecture. A quick glance at the walls and floors revealed anti-fire charms, strengthening charms, protective charms, anti-stain charms… and some others that he wasn’t going to bother to try to figure out with so little time left. “I can see… twenty. Twenty above ground, and… fewer underneath. Maybe ten. And the bunker is about twice as large as the actual mansion.” He released his rune sight and opened his eyes. Turing back around, he raised an eyebrow at the grin on Xanthir’s face.
“You got some cool tricks up your sleeve,” the werewolf commented, but didn’t ask, for which Cyrus was grateful.
Tara smirked at Were before becoming serious again. “So that’s twenty inside, ten under, and how many outside?”
“Around fifteen.”
“Great. And then machine guns, and other nasty surprises. What the fuck was Snape walking into… idiot.”
There was an awkward silence for a moment before Xanthir asked, “So, are we just goin’ to break in and wing it?”
Tara grunted, glaring off into space. “We need more information. I say, before we do anything too drastic, we get a little information. It they were going to kill Snape, he’s dead already, and if they’re not going to, the torture will probably last for a few days at least.” She turned to Cyrus and watched him closely. “You alright with waiting to move?”
The human shrugged. “I’d rather successfully save him then fuck it up and get caught. But where are we going to get more information?”
Tara grinned. “What have I told you, Cyrus? Information is my currency. I have a contact in the muggle world. A hacker. Take a breath – I’m shadow walking us.”
Cyrus barely had the time to do as she suggested before they were falling into darkness. It was a relatively short trip, thankfully, and when they stumbled out of a shadow the human had to admit it was one of the smoother forms of magical travel he’d experienced.
Glancing around them, Cyrus was understandably surprised that they had actually appeared on the front step of the house instead of the inside. Tara wasn’t exactly known for knocking, but this time she did, using a weird rhythmic pattern on the door. A few moments later, it opened, but there was no occupant visible.
Tara walked in without a hitch, though, so Cyrus assumed there was no danger and followed as well. The door slammed shut behind him and he spun around to see a gangly woman standing there, glasses glinting eerily in the light.
“Tara. And here I thought I’d never see you again. How is vampire life treating you?”
“Oh you know. The usual. Life threatening situations, Trials, breaking into secret bunkers…”
The woman hummed thoughtful and walked past them to a room literally filled to the brim with computers. There was shit everywhere. “I take it this isn’t a social call?”
“No, not really. We can catch up in a few days. I’ll phone you with a time and date.”
“Very well. What do you need?” she asked, sprawling onto her swivel chair and grabbing a cup of coffee, totally not caring that the room had dirty dishes all over the floor and other bits of garbage and clips out of magazines.
“I have an address for you. I need all the information you can get on it.”
She hummed to herself again, took a long drag of coffee, and then put the cup down and started typing furiously at what seemed to be her main computer. There were many others strewn haphazardly around the room, but most of them didn’t even appear to be on. “Alright. Address?”
Tara rattled something off, making Cyrus wonder when she had the time to look at a street sign.
“Hmm. Hmmm.” She typed away. “Oh my.” Her fingers started moving even more quickly, and then she paused and started turning on the screens behind her computer that were attached to the wall or held up by boxes. A few moments later, a schematic to the building that Cyrus had just been looking at came up on the largest screen. “You pick very interesting places to break into, Tara,” the woman commented absently. “On the outside it’s a secure muggle mansion. On the inside it’s teeming with magic. Unfortunately, aside from the blue prints available because the building is of muggle design, there isn’t much information. Whatever’s going on here is probably highly illegal and dangerous.”
Tara sighed. “You can’t get any more than that for me? We already knew all that. And your blue print’s missing the underground bunker.”
The woman continued clicking away, bringing up articles from newspapers and other snippets of information. “I can get you a name. Alfonso Rousseau. He’s on the deed for the property, but of course that doesn’t mean he’s the actual owner.”
“And what do you have on this Rousseau guy?”
“Hmm… He’s French, and apparently wanted in a few countries for illegal trafficking of… just about everything. Drugs, slaves… You name it, he’s dipped his hand into it. And come out quite wealthy.”
“Is he magical or muggle?”
“Hmm… he was born to muggles and later studied at Durmstrang. After graduating, though, he returned to the muggle world and went into business, which eventually lead him to the illegal kind. You need anything else?”
Tara made a thoughtful noise. “Not unless you got anything useful.”
She shook her head. “No. Most of what I’ve obtained I got from a private source. I try to keep my hands out of stuff like this. They have a way of finding out that you know.”
Tara patted the woman on the shoulder. “Thanks, Sherry. I’ll get out of your hair now.”
The woman caught the hand and brought it to her lips, kissing the palm. “Anytime, Tara. Please don’t forget to call. You have been disconnected lately.”
The vampire sighed and let her hand be held. “It’s been crazy, what can I say.”
Sherry smiled lasciviously. “Perhaps you are in need of a little stress relief?”
Tara laughed. “Perhaps,” she agreed, amused, pulling her hand away. “I really do need to go. This operation’s kind of time sensitive. I’ll phone you in a couple days.”
Sherry nodded and watched them until Tara had pulled them through the shadows and back to the warehouse.
Xanthir was the first to speak. “So, standard information trading deal with her or your other kind of deal.”
Tara grinned. “Just because you don’t get laid doesn’t mean I can’t. We need to find you a girl.”
The werewolf snorted. “No thanks. The girls at Shikaan are a little too scary for me. I prefer them soft.”
She just laughed and clapped him on the back. “You’ll find yourself a sweetie one day.”
Cyrus watched the exchange with a raised eyebrow, not commenting. When Tara had first told him she traded sex or blood for information, he hadn’t exactly… well. It was one thing knowing it and another seeing it. But something was niggling at him… “Tara,” Cyrus began slowly, drawing both her and Xanthir’s attention to him. “When we first met you said I had to pay for your help in blood or sex, but you’re, well… gay. So what…?”
Tara blinked in surprise before a grin spread across her face. “Oh. I say that to everyone the first time I provide information.” She laughed and smacked him on the back. “Don’t worry, your virtue was always intact. I only fuck women. And there are ways for a guy to pay in sex, like, providing a professional female escort for an evening or something similar.”
Cyrus’s eyes widened. “A prostitute?!”
She rolled her eyes at him. “Honestly. You humans have such odd scruples. And the polite term is escort. If you ever call one of those ladies a prostitute you will find yourself ball-less before you can say ‘fuck’. But getting back on track,” she gave him a look, “I say we either storm the place or try stealth for as long as it works and then storm the place. And we should make some emergency portkeys too, just in case.”
Xanthir nodded. “You know how to make them, right?” When Tara nodded, he continued, “Are we splitting up or sticking together?”
“Together. Going into a huge fucking unknown like this? We’d be stupid to get separated. If we stick together, we can watch each other’s backs. Have you guys started covering advanced tactical scenarios in Weapons and Battle yet?”
Xanthir nodded and Cyrus just stared. “Uh, we’ve covered basic tactical scenarios. And basic formations and stuff, but nothing advanced. Welkins is still going obstacle-course happy.”
Tara swore. “Okay, but do you know about basic cell functionality?” At Cyrus’s blank expression, she ran a hand through her loose hair. “Basically, every team has people on it with different skill sets. You are what we would call a slow magic powerhouse or heavy hitter. Xanthir is the close combat weapons specialist, and I’m the best at subterfuge due to being a vampire and the most trained. As a three-man cell, if we were going incognito, you would be in the middle, I would be at the front, and Xanthir would cover our asses. If we were storming in, I would be covering our asses and you would be out in front casting spells, with Xanthir taking out anyone who gets too close.”
Cyrus nodded, beginning to understand. “I think we covered concepts like that shortly, but not in much detail.”
Tara nodded. “They set the foundations first before they start cultivating you into the kind of warrior that can be put on a strike team. Not everyone wants to become an assassin, after all, but most of us have enough experience being on a team that if we needed to fight a battle, all the Shikaan students know the drill. It’s when you try to fight with the people who didn’t go to Shikaan that you start having problems. Some of them are ridiculously incompetent.
“Anyway, we’ll be going in, in a stealth formation first. As soon as the shit hits the fan, though, we’re swapping to the second one I described. Oh, also, retreat formation in case we can’t disapparate, portkey, or shadow walk: I’ll shrink you and Xanthir and I will beat it like a bat out of hell, got it?”
Cyrus nodded sharply, starting to get antsy. Tara was right in that they all knew the ‘drill’ to some extent. Cyrus had gone through very simple simulations like this before, with different objectives, but he’d never done anything that was real before. Welkins made incredibly real mannequins for them to fight, detain, or kill, from how hard their punches hurt to what blood looked and felt like when it burst from the carotid artery and splashed all across your face, but… Knowing they weren’t real made it easy to kill them. He’d killed before – those werewolves when Severus had been captured by Fenrir – but it hadn’t been like this. He’d killed a few. Those who attacked him. But this? He worried that he wouldn’t be able to go through with it if he needed to. He didn’t want to freeze. His friends could be killed if he froze.
At least he didn’t have to worry about preparation. He dressed in his basilisk armor nearly every day and kept his emergency bags with him at all times, so he didn’t have to get anything prepared. Neither did Tara or Xanthir, it seemed, when the werewolf pulled two large and deadly looking blades out of nowhere. They were too short to be swords but too long to be daggers, so Cyrus had no idea what to call them. They hadn’t moved on to weapons in class yet, as they were still working on hand to hand combat and physical training.
“Alright. From this moment on I want silence. Telepathy only.”
Xanthir nodded as if he expected it, checking his belts and testing the sharpness of his blades.
Cyrus floundered. “Telepathy?” Great. One more thing he had no experience with.
Tara paused in her own double-checking and stared at him. “You know Occlumency. Surely you’ve picked up telepathy from all the mental waves vampires give off?” Cyrus shook his head and the vampire swore again. “Why the hell not? This is going to make operations with you a goddamned pain the ass later on, you realize. Why the fuck haven’t you learned yet?”
The human was starting to get annoyed, both with Tara for making all these assumptions and at himself for not being up to her standards. He was only a first year. Xanthir had a year on him and Tara had graduated already. “I’ve never needed to. And I don’t even know if I can.”
She snorted. “Of course you can. Everyone can. Here, feel this?”
Cyrus frowned and concentrated. “Yeah.”
Tara stared at him for a few moments expectantly, and then frowned. “Wait, you can feel it, but you can’t hear what I’m saying to you?”
He shook his head and she crossed her arms over her chest thoughtfully. “How weird. Try listening harder.”
And how the hell was he supposed to do that? “I can’t hear anything.”
She frowned even more. “Hmm. Drop your shields and we’ll try again.”
Cyrus’s eyebrows rose. “Drop them? Are you insane? I don't want anyone poking around inside my-“
“Calm down, Cyrus. No one’s doing any poking here. Your inability to communicate Telepathically is going to royally fuck up this mission, and any other missions you go on in the future, capiche? So, drop them. Now.”
Letting out a frustrated breath, he closed his eyes and dropped into his magic. Finding his mind quickly, he pulled it out of the stream of energy and ‘flew’ up to the empty space where his mind was supposed to be. Hitting the clasp, he let it release and returned to the real world.
“Whoa,” Tara exclaimed. “That’s… that’s freaky. How did you do that?”
Cyrus frowned. “Do what?”
“Well, your mind was not there, and now it’s there, and I didn’t even notice that it wasn’t there before. Actually, never mind. We don’t have time. Can you hear this?”
::…thir wears pink panties wh…’s looking.::
::…not, you cow!::
::Shut… trying… he can hear us.::
“I can hear you now,” he said, blinking in surprise. Huh. “It’s all broken up, though. I’m just getting fragments.
::Try…ck like this.::
“Try talking back?”
::Yeah. You should… able to.::
-Uh, can you hear me?-
“The fuck?” Tara said out loud in response, giving him a weird look. “What are you speaking, Greek? I’ve never heard shit like that before.”
-Greek? No, I’m speaking English. Well, thinking English. Am I doing this right?-
::Xanthir can you… what he’s saying?::
::No. It’s… whatever it is it doesn’t sound like any language I’ve ever heard before.::
“Cyrus, stop speaking that, well, whatever the hell it is. This is serious,” Tara said with a frown.
The human floundered. “I am speaking English!”
“Well, that’s not what’s coming out.”
Xanthir stepped between the two of them with his hands held out. “Okay, let’s work this out another time, okay? Cyrus, can you hear what we say?”
The human frowned. “Well, for the most part. It’s starting to get a bit clearer.”
“Alright. That’s better than nothin’, right Tara? You’re the mission leader, so you just give him orders and direct him, okay?”
She grunted and stared at Cyrus. “Alright. I guess that can work. It’s still annoying, though.”
::You ready to move… Cyrus? One burst of nonsense for yes and two for no.::
-Yes?-
::Alright, I guess…’ll work. Xanthir, I’m going… take out the vampire. I’ll be right back.::
::Okay. Careful.::
Tara grunted and pulled her rune-covered sword out of thin air before disappearing into the shadow behind her. A few moments later, she reappeared with a body and a head. She tossed both onto the ground a distance away and burned them with a flick of her wand. “Muggle vampire. Probably thirty or so years after his turning. Wasn’t very competent. Which probably means that the person who actually captured Snape is stronger, or Snape’s weak.” She looked at Cyrus for confirmation.
The human shook his head. “Severus isn’t a wimp. He did a year at Shikaan, and he’s well versed in the Dark Arts.”
She nodded. “Alright. That means we need to expect to run into someone pretty powerful. Probably vampire or human. No werewolves would work for someone creating a poison to kill them, I don’t think. But don’t rule it out completely. Anything else we need to address before we get to it?”
Cyrus bit his lip. “Uh, my mind is pretty much completely vulnerable like this. And there are things in it that I don’t want people to, you know, find out. What about that?”
Tara looked thoughtful. “Well, Xanthir and I will be too busy during all this to snoop around, and as your friends we respect your privacy. To a certain extent. So that’s not a problem. If we run into an Occlumens or Telepath in there, give us a warning before you do the disappearing thing with your mind, okay? We need to know if we can’t get a hold of you anymore.”
Cyrus nodded, feeling better about it. He could tell when someone was inside, after all, he just couldn’t keep them out without collapsing and submerging the web. And his stomach was still twisting in knots from dread and anticipation.
“Anything else?”
“What about disguises?” Xanthir interjected, tilting his head curiously. “We don’t want them knowin’ what we look like.”
Tara nodded and tapped her head with her wand. She changed into a beautiful blond with too big of a nose. “You two know spells?”
Instead of answering, Cyrus cast the spells that changed his physical appearance. He’d gotten quite familiar with them by now. Instead of dirty blond hair, he now had curly, short black hair and blue eyes. Turning to his left, he saw Xanthir do the same.
“Alright.” Tara said, nodding her approval. “My name on this mission is Red, Xanthir is Orange, and you are Green,” she said, turning to Cyrus. “We don’t want these guys knowing our names either. Green, permanently conjure me three rings.”
Blinking, the human did as asked, making them black, simple, and strong. She held her wand over them and muttered ‘portus’ under her breath. Grabbing two of them, she gave one to Xanthir and attached her own to her… belly button piercing, of all things. Xanthir attached his to one of the loops on the top of his ear, where it was hidden by his messy orange spikes. Cyrus just shrugged and slipped it onto his finger.
::Alright. Portkey… is ‘Fuck me sideways.’ Yes, Orange, that’s from a movie.::
::Is that the… with the vampires?::
::Yeah. You really should… and watch it. Anyway, I’m shadow… us there. Orange, in back, Green, in middle, and… to keep up alright? And X, if he falls behind, just throw him over…lder and carry him.::
::Aye aye, boss!::
Without another word, Tara put her hand on both their shoulders and they disappeared into black.
::I’m going to take us into the bunker, first. This mission is to find Snape, who were now referring to as Target, and chances… got him down there. Unless we run into another vampire, I should be able to… in the shadows for the most part. As soon as our cover’s blown, though, we go into formation. And if at any point one of us… wounded, we leave and get them to a healer.::
Cyrus really wished at that point he could speak, because he could heal. He tried anyway. -I can heal, Ta- Red.-
::I still can’t understand… Green. And I know you’re taking Healing class, if this is what this is about, but you can’t heal cross species yet. I… don’t cover that in first year because I took the course for a while.::
And of course Cyrus couldn’t explain that he didn’t have that problem. Fuck. He really needed to figure out how to communicate telepathically. This was ridiculous. He decided to just not say anything, and if one of them were hurt beyond what their natural healing abilities could handle, he’d take care of it.
::We’re in the bunker now. There aren’t many guards but- What the fuck?!::
::Ta, I mean, Red? What is it? We can’t see through… like you can.::
::Those… There are werewolves down here. Dozens. I can’t fucking believe it. They… children!::
Cyrus was really beginning to wish the telepathy would stop cutting out in the middle of important parts. They had werewolf children captive?
::Green. Check if there are… on the cages.::
Check if there were what on the cages? -Er, can you repeat that Red?-
::What? Can you… there are wards on the cages or not?::
Well, at least that was something he could answer with a yes or no. -Yes.-
::Do it. We’re not here to save them… that to the packs if they decide to do something. But the Target’s cage… wards too.::
::Red, are we seriously going to just… here?::
::Don’t argue with me, Orange. We’ve… shit to deal with.::
Cyrus closed his eyes and activated his rune sight, which thankfully seemed unaffected by the fact that they were in the shadows. Well, aside from all the odd dull sheen on what were normally very bright colors. Now that his sight was activated, he could finally see the building again. They were in the heart of the bunker, and there were far more spells saturating the structure down here than above ground. Now that he had the time to take a closer look, he could indeed see that there were cells all over the place though he couldn’t see if there was anybody inside.
-Yes?-
Tara and Xanthir’s arguing cut off. ::Was that a yes to the wards?::
-Yes.-
::Great. Now we need to find… a haystack of needles. Fuck. Green… way for you to know where he is?::
-No. No?-
::Damn. We’re going to have to search each one.::
They were done searching about a dozen cells when an alarm sounded, which surprised the hell out of all of them as they hadn’t seen a single person during the time they’d been in there. Maybe they’d discovered the vampire guard missing? Though it didn’t really matter now as guards started popping up left and right shooting guns and spells all over the place.
::Shit! They’re shooting shadows, they know… here. Take formation! I’m… out!::
Cyrus blinked his eyes rapidly as suddenly they were thrown into full lighting, a guard with his wand a foot from Cyrus’s face. Reacting without thought, the movements trained into his body from months of fighting with magic and hand to hand combat in Weapons and Battle, he ducked, put his hand on the man’s chest, and sent an exploding curse at him point blank.
The assailant’s armor struggled to protect him for half a second of sparks before he exploded in a spray of blood, bone, and meat like a chunky water balloon dressed up in a suit. He was relieved when the red and chunks of flesh didn’t make him freeze, morbidly glad for experiencing similar effects in class for several months. They were being trained to kill, after all. Falling into the rhythm of battle, he turned his attention to the next assailant and dodged to the side, firing a curse at him that would melt his brain in his skull. The curse reflected off the man’s armor and he scowled as it almost hit him instead. ‘Keep it simple, stupid,’ he told himself, weaving his way past the man’s defenses and exploding his face with another burst of overcharged magic.
::Xa- Orange!::
Cyrus felt a spray of warm liquid land on the back of his neck and turned around in time to see and dodge the falling, decapitated corpse. Glancing around and seeing that Tara was taking care of the last guard, he turned back to Xanthir, who had saved his ass, and nodded in thanks.
The werewolf grinned. ::Sorry ‘bout that, Green. I-::
::Orange! You need to keep a better eye on Green. He’s our heavy hitter… almost got him killed! He may be killing a fair amount of these bastards, but he… as quick of reflexes as we do. Get with it.::
Xanthir’s smile disappeared and he nodded, gravely. It was odd seeing such a serious look on his face. ::Sorry, Red. I’ll watch his back.::
::Good. We’ve been discovered, so we need to check the rest of the cells. We still don’t know if the Target is even in there, and chances are they’re going to be sending more powerful guards this time. These were rather weak for hit wizards. I’d say low level grunts with wands.::
Both Cyrus and Xanthir nodded, so the three adopted the second formation, with Tara in back, and started making their way through the hallways again. When they reached the end of the hall of cells, Xanthir shook his head and frowned at Tara.
::They’re all werewolves, Red. And this Target fellow is a vampire, right?::
::Yeah.::
::I don’t smell a vampire down here… checked all the cells in this area. Unless there’re more around here somewhere.::
::Green. Check for more cells.::
The human closed his eyes and activated his rune sight again. -Yes.-
::And guards? How many?::
-Yes.- Cyrus frowned and held up six fingers so Tara could see.
::Great. I’m shadow… again.:: Tara grabbed them by the arms and pulled them into the shadows cast by their own bodies on the wall behind them.
They didn’t make it as far this time. The guards were shooting spells into the shadows, and Tara had to pull them out prematurely. As soon as they exploded out of the darkness, Cyrus was ready, slicing the neck of the first guard with a wave of his phoenix wand. Drawing his death stick with his left hand, he started firing rapid spells down the hallway. Seeing another wave of guards appear from a side corridor, he cussed under his breath and started throwing more powerful and destructive spells, not caring for the chunks that melted out of the walls and the smoke that burned the back of his throat.
::Shit! Orange, watch Green’s back! There’s another… the back!::
::Right.::
Cyrus ignored the conversation and kept his focus on the guards in front of him. Getting tired of the way they kept reflecting his spells back at him, he focused his magic into his death stick and intoned, “Avada Kedavra.”
The green exploded from the tip of the wand and took out three guards before they managed to dodge. Not wanting to give them the chance to recover, he cast it again. And again. It took a lot of power to fire consecutive Avada Kedavra curses, but he’d practiced them enough – just in case – that he was barely winded when the last guard fell.
::Nice, Green,:: Tara complimented, decapitating the last guard. She was literally covered in blood as she pulled them into the shadows again. ::Now, let’s get to those cells. I want to get the fuck out of this-::
~:Well, isn’t this interesting.:~
Cyrus’s eyes widened at the unfamiliar voice, but before a single word could be said, they were ripped out of the shadows with violent force and thrown out onto the floor. Groaning at the pain of smacking into the ground at dangerous speeds, he tried to sit up and discovered that his arm had been dislocated and broken. Glancing around at the unfamiliar room, his eyes widened at the sight of hit wizards lining the walls.
::What the fuck?:: he heard Tara’s voice in his mind.
“An apt description of your current situation, I believe. What is your name, little miss vampire?” the voice taunted.
Seeing Tara push herself to her feet and facing somewhere behind him, Cyrus turned himself around on the floor and started healing his arm. With a sick pop, he pushed the shoulder back into place and set about healing the bone that had broken when he’d landed so roughly.
“You can call me Red. Who the fuck are you?” Tara demanded, summoning her sword from wherever she disappeared it to when she wasn’t using it.
The man sitting on a comfortable looking chair at the front of the hall laughed. “You come breaking into my lair, and do not know my name?” he asked, an amused, congenial grin spread across his face. When Tara said nothing, the runes on her sword beginning to glow, he laughed. “Well, I take it from the lack of freed werewolves that that is not your goal. So tell me, little Miss Red, why are you here?”
Tara’s eyes narrowed. “You have something I need.”
His eyebrows rose. “Really? And what is that?”
“A vampire. You captured him earlier today.”
“Hmmm.” The man ponderously tapped his chin. “Oh yes, I believe I remember now. Bad attitude? Well, I’m afraid I cannot just give him to you, Miss. You see, he broke into this mansion much as you did, in search of some of my research, and I’m afraid he discovered too much before we caught him.”
Tara’s eyes narrowed. “We’re not leaving without him.”
The man laughed uproariously as if that was the funniest thing he’d ever heard. Before they could react, however, he was standing in front of Tara and smacking her across the room. She hit the ground and rolled for a few meters before catching her feet and coming to a stop, sword still gripped in hand.
Xanthir attacked next, but the man blurred again and he too was sent flying off to the side, this time with a loud crack that could be nothing other than a broken bone. His blades went flying into the wall as he rolled to a stop only a few meters away from the guards. One of them kicked him farther into the room, closer to Tara.
Seeing that Xanthir wasn’t moving, Cyrus turned to the vampire in preparation to attack. Before he could even form a spell under his skin, the vampire was in front of him, crouching down to the floor with a pleasant smile that showed off a pair of fangs. “Well aren’t you a pretty little wizard,” the vampire said, his hand next to Cyrus’s head and touching the human’s hair before he even noticed it had moved. “I could sell you on the black market for a pretty penny. Powerful and rather beautiful. It’s too bad when you grow up you’ll probably be more handsome than pretty. Such… gorgeous eyes. It truly is a waste.”
Cyrus, who had been about to cast a violent curse at the vampire, froze at the familiar words and the hand that caressed his jaw. For a moment, it was Macnair’s face staring back at him with that sick look of desire. His brain stuttered to a stop, his magic sputtering in his channels as the vampire’s hand trailed down his neck and to his collarbone. When it finally pulled away, it was covered in blood.
The vampire brought the bloodied finger to his mouth and licked it, eyes sparkling with humor and desire. He gave a short, appreciative moan. “Nice. So much magic in the blood, just from sitting on your skin.” He grinned and leaned closer, flashing fangs. “You would fetch me a nice price.” He returned his hand to Cyrus’s cheek. “Such nice skin, as well.”
Cyrus had had enough. Ignoring the way his heart raced at the familiar and disgusting contact, he snapped himself out of it and fired an exploding curse from the channels in his chest.
Unfortunately, the vampire sidestepped the wave of magic with ease. His eyes narrowed with annoyance. “That’s quite enough of that. If you cast any more magic in my halls I will break every bone in your body, human.”
Tara, who had been standing silent, hissed furiously, “What clan are you?”
The vampire scowled, annoyed at the distraction. Cyrus used the short window of opportunity to pull himself to his feet and move closer to his two friends. “Sanguis.”
Tara frowned. “There is no Sanguis.”
The vampire laughed. “Honestly. You always assume that only your clans in Other Realm exist. Not all of us want to live there.”
Tara’s eyes widened slightly. “You’re… you’re a muggle vam-“ She was cut off as the vampire smacked her into the wall with a loud crack.
“I do so hate the terms of magical beings. I am a vampire with far more years than you. Your senior, if you will. I demand a little respect,” he sneered.
Tara snorted. “You can’t be that much older than me. The clans purge the human realm of vampires every hundred years. You would never measure up to one of our clan leaders. Your days are numbered, muggle.”
The vampire started laughing. “I have never fought one of your ‘clan leaders’. Nor will ever need to. They cannot purge what they cannot find. You see, a muggle vampire receives some very interesting abilities once they reach a certain age. I’ve begun to think of it as… compensation, for not being born with magic.”
Tara spat out a mouthful of blood and pulled herself out of the dent she’d created in the wall. “Oh really. And how long did you manage to survive the purges? Two hundred years? Three hundred?”
“One thousand four hundred, actually.” He smirked at the completely shocked expression on Tara’s face. “Why are you so surprised? Your species really is too confident in their superiority. It’s pathetic.” Before Tara could move, he had hit the back of her neck, knocking her unconscious and sending her flying across the room with the force of it. She hit the floor with a sick thud. The vampire sighed dramatically and turned his attention back to Cyrus. He made that appreciative moan again, eyes raking over Cyrus’s form. “It really is too bad that I cannot sell you on the black market. Can’t have anyone finding out about my little… operation here, after all.”
He disappeared and reappeared right in front of Cyrus, hand wrapping itself around the human’s throat with an iron grip.
Cyrus gasped and sent a curse at the vampire’s stomach, but nothing happened. He tried again, pouring more magic into it, but to no avail.
The vampire snorted. “I pay for the most expensive armor in existence, human. Did you really believe your pitiful spells would be enough to dent them?”
Cyrus choked and sent a flesh-burning spell into the vampire’s hands. The vampire pulled away with a hiss and backhanded Cyrus across the face. The human hit the ground with a groan, thankfully not breaking something, though his jaw was definitely bruised. He fired another spell at the vampire but the man just dodged with an annoyed expression.
“Now I believe a prudent question would be…” the vampire muttered to himself, dodging another spell before reappearing right in front of Cyrus, only inches away from his face. “Do I keep you, or kill you?”
Cyrus felt a blunt pain and the world faded to black.
oOo
Cyrus groaned and tried to bring a hand to his pounding head, but found it restrained. Alarmed, he sat up and stared down at the pair of cuffs that held his hands together. “What the…” He blinked as he suddenly remembered exactly where he was and how he got there. “Shit.” The portkey was gone. Along with his wands and bottomless bags. They’d even taken his salt! Swearing some more under his breath, he looked around the cell he found himself in for an escape.
“C- Green! Good, you’re awake.”
Cyrus frowned and tried to see where the voice came from. Seeing the bars to his cell, he pushed himself shakily to his feet and groaned. His body ached. How long had he been lying on the floor for? He sent some healing magic throughout his body and eased the tense and bruised muscles as he walked to the bars of his cell. When he tried to channel it to break the cuffs however, nothing happened. Fuck. Magic suppressing cuffs again. “T- Red? Is that you?”
“Yeah.” She didn't sound very happy.
“What- why are we in cages? Shouldn’t we be… I dunno, dead?” Cyrus asked.
“He wants to know how much you know, Green. And who else you might have told,” a familiar, scathing voice carried through the hallway.
“Se-“ Cyrus almost exclaimed the man’s name before he remembered himself. “Snake!” he shouted, picking the first code name he could think of out of thin air. It wasn’t like Snape was going to respond to ‘target’. “You're alright!”
There was silence for a moment. “I would not say ‘alright’, but I am still alive.”
Cyrus felt his heart sink. “What? Are you injured?”
“A little… worse for wear, one might say. I have yet to be permanently damaged. I am getting… hungry, however.” When the vampire was silent for a moment, Cyrus tried to get a better look through the bars but only saw Tara and Xanthir standing across from him, silent. “How is… the wolf?”
“He’s doing fine. I paralyzed him so he wouldn’t come after you, but fine.”
Severus chuckled. “That is probably for the best. Dorcas is… dangerous.”
Cyrus blinked. “Dorcas? Dork? Seriously?”
The vampire snorted. “Yes. Darius Dorcas. One of the pieces of information I managed to glean before he discovered me.”
“Well I’m glad you’re all getting reacquainted with one another.” Dorcas stepped out of the shadows of the hallway.
“You!” Tara growled, coming closer to the bars. “I’m going to rip you a new one when I-“
Dorcas reappeared right in front of her, and she stepped back. Cyrus couldn't see the look on the vampire’s face, but Tara paled slightly. “That is quite enough of that. Now, ‘Snake’ I believe the boy called you? Interesting nicknames you have. If you do not answer my questions on the leak, I will gut your rescuers. Do I make myself clear?”
Dead silence. Finally, after a long pause, Severus growled, “You would kill them if I did tell you, Dorcas, as they would be of no further use.”
“Yes, that is true. But the manner in which they die could be infinitely more painful and gruesome if you do not become agreeable very fast. Now, who else knows.”
Snape said nothing.
“Very well. Perhaps I shall give you some incentive.” Dorcas turned to Cyrus and pulled a key out of nowhere.
Cyrus backed away from the bars, eyes widening slightly at the smile on Dorcas’s face.
“There, there, human. If your ‘Snake’ gives me the answers I need, you need not die.” The vampire disappeared and with a blur of movement, Cyrus found himself standing outside in the hallway with Dorcas’s hands gripping his shoulders tightly. “How much does the life of this mortal mean to you, ‘Snake’?”
Severus, whom Cyrus could now see, hissed and flashed his fangs as he moved closer to the bars. “Leave him alone, Dorcas.”
“I don’t think I will.”
Cyrus gasped as fangs sank into his neck. A pleasurable haze muddled his mind, and he absently realized it must have been the aphrodisiac. He could hear voices yelling, but he couldn’t seem to understand exactly what they were saying as pleasure wracked his frame.
The fangs pulled out of his neck, and his mind cleared a little. “I have no qualms killing him. Or even better, perhaps I’ll turn him and tie him to my bed? I’m sure he has quite the body under this basilisk skin.”
Cyrus felt hands traveling all over his chest, eventually moving down to grip his crotch, but he couldn’t seem to care. He knew he should be disgusted, and Macnair came floating through his head again, but the pleasant thrum running through every nerve in his body didn’t reflect what he was feeling.
“Fine, I’ll-“
“Don’t, Snakey,” Cyrus murmured listlessly. “He’ll kill wolfy, and all of-“
“Enough, mortal,” Dorcas snapped, squeezing Cyrus’s throat. “Now, ‘Snake’, exactly how much did you discover, rifling through my files? And who else knows of my operation? It is clear that these three did.”
Cyrus blinked slowly, his head starting to clear from the drug-induced haze. He frowned. Anger bubbled in his stomach, along with nausea from… Dorcas. His hands. They were still on Cyrus’s shoulders.
“Free them and I will tell you.”
Dorcas let out an angry breath. “You are being purposely obtuse, Snake. Of course I won’t let them go. I am trying to plug a leak here, not blow it open. Perhaps I need to make an example of one of them for you to talk? Would that make you understand how serious I am? If he is lucky, he will not survive the turning procedure.”
Cyrus’s eyes widened. Turning? Before he could react, two sets of fangs sank themselves into his neck again, and all thoughts dissolved with the bone melting pleasure. He heard shouting, but he didn’t care. His entire world centered on the heat burning through his veins…
Until it began to turn into pain. His heart stuttered in his chest, his brain started shutting down from blood loss. He was nearly unconscious when he felt his body being laid down on the ground. A warm liquid spilled into his listless mouth, and he tried to spit out the coppery fluid to no avail. He was too weak.
Under the assault of fiery pain, his vision dissolved into darkness.
-Toki Mirage-
Don’t send the assassins?
The cliffhanger is all Roos’s fault. I wanted to put it in chapter 20, but yeah. She brought out the whip. :P
Roos: (Smirks) Yessss, I am evil! (Cracks whip) You know you love me Mirage. (Smiles) All BS readers love me too! But, dear readers, if any of you do not due to a certain cliffy, think before you come after Mirage or me... (Smirk) First there are my Liefjes, two evil Germy's under my command who are to receive their... Toys... very soon... Second there is our little MoMo, Lover of Torture and Pain... Third, Demon Enforcer Evy – my lovely little Dreamer, and last but not least... There. Is. Me. (Evil Smirk)
Mirage: O.o’ Yeah Roos, show off that dark side… :P
And you’re all pretty lucky this chapter got out so fast after the last update. I managed to write most of it the weekend before classes started. French and Music History are going to kill my time this year. The prep work is insane.
Dunno when the next update is going to be, but the story won’t leave me alone. (sulks) It’s like a recalcitrant child.
And this is the last ‘surprise’ chapter. For anyone wondering, I will be doing the usual word count on my profile after this.
Special Note: Roos, due to personal reasons, is going to be MIA for an undetermined amount of time. This makes me very sad. I will do my best to keep the story going, but she has next to no more personal computer time, and I rely on her. BS is dead without her. And other dramatic lamentations…
Forum: Again, anyone who has questions to clarify stuff in the story, I usually give you some sort of answer. Feel free to pop by. But if you ask any questions about this cliffhanger and what’s going to happen next… well. It won’t be pleasant. :)
Thanks for reading!
Edit: FYI – I’ve put up a warning list in the first chapter in case there’s anything else that you should know about if you're a squicky kind a person. :P
IF YOU WOULD LIKE UPDATES I AM LOCATED ON FFNET
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Bloody Skies