Current mood:	accomplished
Entry tags:	fic, van helsing

Edge of Midnight, part 3
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The light of the crescent moon flickered on the dark surface of the river. The air was warm. His presence was sure and strong next to her as they strolled in the empty street. Anna had begun to take comfort in his dark form that stood beside her, danced with her. He was somehow so familiar with that hint of danger that lingered in the air even after he had departed.

“Why so sad my Lady?”

Anna smiled. He picked up on her emotions so easily when she was not guarded. Sometimes she did not even wish to hide from his gentle explorations.

“It is such a perfect nigh. But all things come to an end.”

He stopped and turned to look at the river. Anna wished that she could enjoy this moment for the right reasons. That she was merely a lady courted by a handsome stranger; to not be able to see the darkness inside of him. Azare turned to look at her, fingers slowly caressing her cheek.

“It does not have to.”

The kiss was light, but sure. A chaste kiss a courting man would dare to give his heart’s desire before marriage. A kiss an innocent woman would blush with. She could not help but remember rough hands and stone scraping her back; to wish for the fierceness of the past.


x x x x x x x



They young vampire gurgled in the back of its throat, desperately fighting against Gabriel’s iron grip. He pushed the cross back into the creature’s flesh bringing forth strangled screams and the smell of burning flesh. He did not even bother with questions. The creature would confess to anything if questioned. Gabriel let it offer him his own confessions, in the hope that he would shed some light into the events taking place; the Order had as far been unable to find anything useful in its archives.

“He just wants a wife.”

The creature’s words were coughed out and Gabriel lessened the pressure of the crucifix. It panted and tried to wriggle out of his grasp, but Gabriel held on; pulling a bottle of holy water from his pocket and pushed the cork out. The creature let out panicked gasps.

“We all try to bring him one.”

He let a few drops trickle onto its skin, where the water immediately began to smoke and sear away the skin.

“A worthy one, a perfect one!”

The creature’s words began turning into screeches; its legs kicked out erratically against the table Gabriel had him pinned to. He let some more water dribble out of the bottle.

“There will be a Blood Feast, to show his dominance.”

A sudden fear gripped Gabriel’s chest. He had read of this. He hoisted the struggling man up from his lapels and shoved him against the side of the table.

“Where?”

“Tonight, in the slaughter district, I don’t know…”

The creature struggled and Gabriel staked it easily; the ash falling around him.


x x x x x x x



He kissed her once more gently; Anna squeezed the reins in her hand to keep herself grounded. It would be so easy to fall into this pretence; to lose herself, but she had made a promise to keep her people safe. She smiled as Azare walked towards his house and disappeared through a side door. Silently she walked into the shadows of the trees lining the courtyard with her horse. She petted its muzzle as she tied the animal to one of the trees and moved to follow Azare.

She could not risk his affections by asking of the Feast, he had not discussed his family or vampirism and Anna had let the subject slide. His attraction to her was too great of a card to lose. The door was unlocked and she slipped into the dark hallway easily.

The voices were barely muffled by the slightly ajar door.

“How can you be this late?! The feast is tonight! We must all be here while the ritual is performed! The slaughter district is already being readied for the feast.”

Anna froze at the sound of the agitated male voice. Slowly she scooted back to the exit and rushed to her horse. She could feel the terror lurking on the edges of her mind. She had failed; failed Carl and her people. The order would not have enough time to send hunters to deal with the feast. She needed to get a message to Bellatrix. Someone had to get to the slaughter house before the start of the ritual.

She could feel the panic swell in the pit of her stomach, and fought against it. The motions of her horse beneath her worked to calm her screaming nerves and she rode towards the Order’s convent. Abandoning the animal in the yard she rushed to find anyone who’d be awake at this hour. She crashed into the foyer, pulling aside the first nun she saw. The Sister made a move to pull her arm away from Anna’s bruising grip.

“You need to listen to me.”

Maybe it was the panic in her voice, or the tightening of her grip, but the woman stopped struggling.

“You need to get this to Bellatrix!”

She shoved a small piece of paper into the woman’s hands, and moved to rush off. The nun stayed put eyeing her warily.

“Now!”

Anna watched as the woman scampered off, and made way back to her horse. She urged the young mare into a gallop; making swift pace across the dark city. Tightly she gripped her sword, which she had attached to her saddle. She had been expecting this for days; the knowledge which Carl had bestowed upon her resting within her stomach like a stone. The rolling fear was beginning to rear its ugly head, but stronger than that was the blood lust. She could smell it in her nostrils, feel the heat and urgency of battle in her muscles. As if on instinct she pulled the animal to a stop outside the building and lowered herself to the ground, pulling the sword from its sheath.

She kicked off her silk shoes as she approached the building. It was slightly below ground level, nestled in between a brewery and slaughterhouse; both which would hide the stench of death. She felt the itch beneath her skin; sharp breath in her lungs, everything was heightened, elevated by her own lust. She crouched by the door; silently listening the nearly inaudible sounds of pain emitting from the inside. Slowly she hooked her skits around her thighs and allowed her spine to crack in the confides of her corset. She turned the handle, slipping into the gloom of the room. Tens of pairs of undead eyes turned to her; drawn in by her smell, her aura of violence. Her sword glinted in the low light. It was time.


x x x x x x x



The horse’s hooves slipped on the cobblestones as Gabriel manoeuvred the animal through another tight corner. How could this be happening right under the Order’s nose; a Blood Feast, in Rome? This was more than just a power shift with in the undead sect; it was an invasion. If the presence of the Order or the Church no longer held the demons back, then nothing would. The corner of the slaughterhouse was visible at the end of the street and he pulled the tired animal into a trot, not wanting to alert anyone to his presence. He left the beast to the corner and slowly progressed towards the heavy wooden door hidden underneath the street line. A black horse stood idly by the entryway and fear began to grip Gabriel’s chest. The door was slightly ajar and snarling and grunts could be heard through the gap. He was almost thrown aside by a vampire dashing from the doorway. He cut the demon’s head off easily with his blade and its body turned to ash around him. Silently he moved to the door, now slung wide.

She was crouching on the table her thigh muscles plunging with the effort; the sword in a graceful arc above her head. She was snarling; her teeth bared towards the faces of the demons surrounding her. One of the smirking creatures jumped; extending clawed hands towards Anna’s throat. She swung. Its head hit the floor and slowly quivered to ash; making the rest of the pack shrink back. She seemed to sense his presence, turning her gaze slightly towards him. Her eyes were dark and calm. He remembered that look; remembered the rage and nodded. As a one body they moved; diving into the melee of demons.

Now Anna did not need to consider her villagers or the wrath the vampires would reap upon them as vengeance. She was free to kill; to destroy as her instincts demanded of her. Heart and head. Inhuman bodies turning into nothingness around her. She could feel him beside her; the powerful pull of flesh and spirit. The pretence of civility she had wore for the past weeks made the killing even more brutal. The cuts and bruises forming on her legs and arms became a pleasure of sorts; a reminder of her true nature.

Gabriel rushed to the people chained to the walls, hacking away at their bonds. Their bodies stumbled forwards, shrinking into themselves out of fear and thirst. He barely noticed their plight; unable to take his eyes off Anna’s form. She moved among the demons; her sword slicing left and right. She grabbed a large vampire from behind bringing her sword to its throat; locking her gaze with his. There was heat in her eyes; darkness he had not seen before. She called to him, as the vampire fell to ash in her embrace.

The battle was over in minutes, and Gabriel ushered the shocked humans out of the basement; letting them escape into the night air. He retuned; watching her move among the debris. Her legs and arms were adorned with cuts and bruises, but she did not seem to notice the pain. He moved to her; caressing her exposed neck with bloodied fingers. He had been starved for her; she turned reading his want, his desperation. She turned; pulling him to their horses.

She rode without her shoes, her dress punched up high, tendrils of hair escaping the confiding braid. He could not take his eyes off her. The hallway of stone was as dim as he remembered, the blotches of light from the lamps casting strange shapes on the walls. She was moving deftly through the mazes of corridors; bare feet silent on the rugs. He followed her; grabbing a hold of her arm. He meant to ask her of the Feast, of her reasons for being there, but none of these ever passed through his lips. His other fist pulled her hair; pulling her head back. The kiss was bruising, hard, violent, but she did not fight it, merely latched her teeth onto his lower lip drawing blood.

Her breathing was hard, chest heaving; trying to find an outlet in the confides of her corset. He rammed her against the wall, hands pushing the thick straps down. She fought for control, grabbing his wrists and forcing them to his sides. Their breath and rage mingled in the heavy air.

She moved, nearly running towards her quarters, feeling him fast in her heels. She wrenched the door open, nearly crashing into the study. She turned to face him, eyes glimmering dangerously in the candle light. She could see the rage now, the passion of the wolf she had last seen in Castle Dracula. The hairs in the back of her neck rose. Violently he threw his coat aside and advanced on her. The Lady in her whished to run, to cower, instead she smiled; lazily. Heart and Head.

The hands on her shoulders were bruising in their grip. He shoved her onto the desk, scattering ink bottles onto the floor; they broke with a clink. He forced her thighs apart with his own, hands shoving her skirts up. She fisted the fabric of his black shirt. There was defiance in his eyes; daring her to stop him; to renounce the lust and the violence and the blood that bound them to one another. Violently she yanked the fabric, it tore as his fingers pushed into her; she bit his shoulder, worrying the skin. She wrenched the remnants of the shirt down his arms.

“More, now.”

Her voice had turned into a growl and his fingers became harsher, stronger.

“No! Now.”

She let go of his arms, falling onto table; and hooking her foot onto its edge; spreading her legs more. He breathed harshly through his nose; pupils completely disappeared into the black of his irises. He growled; and pushed her knee with his shoulder, fingers working on his belt.

“Nownownownow….”

She was chanting now; barely breathing in between the words. He wrapped his arms around her bent knee, and pushed in. Anna screamed, her back arching off the table; her leg spasming in his hold but he did not let go, holding on still as she rode the tremors. He shoved his other had under her ass; giving her no time to recover, started his own harsh rhythm. Her body rode with him. Her fingers pressed into the edge of the desk behind her head, curling her spine. This was what she had wanted; had needed surrounded by silk gloves and pretentious people; him solid and hard. Moving in her like the sea.

His teeth were clenched together, sweat running down his brow. She wrapped her free leg around him, forcing his pace. Their eyes locked, and suddenly all was silent, Anna pushed herself up. Latching onto his body; lips moving across his face. He was whispering her name against the side of her mouth in the rhythm of his thrusts. She could feel the shivers running down his body; he was beginning to unravel. She kissed him, eyes open, swallowing his groan; squeezing him for the final time before letting her leg fall limply against the side of the desk.

He stumbled away from her, near crashing into a chair by the window. Anna remained precariously balanced on the edge of the table, feeling the remains of their fucking pooling between her legs. He would not look her in the eyes as he buttoned up his trousers. Anna could not help but think of it as funny; to lose such violent intimacy in such a short time. His voice was still hoarse as he spoke.

“What were you doing in a Blood Feast by yourself? Do you have any idea how dangerous this city is?”

She let herself rock against the rim of the wood; the pain in her thighs a much needed distraction from the strangling sorrow building up in her stomach.

“I think you lost your right to care a while ago.”

He snorted, but there was no humour behind it.

“Indeed, I did.”

His gaze danced around the room, refusing to stop at her. His face was cold.

“However that still does not explain what you were doing at the Feast.”

Slowly she slid down from the table, shaky feet touching the floor. The pain was sharp now, like biting on a broken tooth. But at least it was something, after the weeks of silence and repression there was a pleasure to be found in anguish.

“I fail to see why I should explain myself to you.”

Now he was finally facing her; rising from his chair, using his height to force her into a confession. Not today my clergyman. It was a bitter thought which she did not voice.

“I saw the look in your eyes out there.”

I see the look in your eyes now, but that thought remained silent as well. He did not deserve to hear the truth anymore, did not deserve her voice. Enraged by her silence he carried on.

“You enjoyed the killing, you liked it.”

“What! And you do not?!”

She reigned in her rage and smiled with a bitter twist to her lips.

“I forgot you like your death and destruction Vatican sanctioned.”

“At least I have a sanction.”

She let the words sink in, letting them fester into old hurts. She let her fist fly. The connection with his jaw felt good, the pain radiating through her arm right up to her shoulder. His head whipped to the side. The rage bubbled in her; fresh and silky and she fed it all the hurts from the past month. She hated that he could still bring her to these extremes. He had no right anymore. She faced the table, squeezing her fingers into the rim, now for a very different reason.

When she turned around he was gone.


x x x x x x x



Anna woke up wrapped around her duvet. The tears came, but she could not bring herself to sob anymore. Just let them run across her face; seep into the pillow. She had dreamed of the ship again. Of the eerie calm that had forced them into stillness for two days. She forced herself to get up and washed her face with the cold water provided by the bed. She sat on the edge of the mattress. The sobs came, she buried her head in her knees and let her body convulse. It had become such a ritual for her now. To cry over what has been lost in the privacy of the night. It allowed her to be seductive, alluring and strong in the face of her enemies, but now she needed to be allowed to grieve.

She felt the clench in her stomach and barely had time to rush to the bucket in the corner before her stomach emptied its contents. Her limbs shook and stomach continued to roll for a few minutes, before the queasiness passed. Slowly her body calmed down and she returned to her bed; wrapping her body around the duvet; an illusion of another body, and went back to sleep.


x x x x x x x


The days were short and her nights endless. Her gowns became her armour, flick of a wrist or bend of her neck her weapons. With Dracula everything had been hard and cold and difficult. In Rome, among the splendour of the Vampire courts her life became seductive, subtle and dangerous. Where Dracula had been all about the blunt force, perfect control of his territory, Azare existed in a world where he had to coexist. He played games and hid his nature behind a knife-sharp smile.

Anna enjoyed his company; revelled in the danger and in his absolute adoration. His love was so very different from Gabriel’s. Azare did not feel the need to hide his affections, showering her with gifts and compliments and polite bows. Part of her wanted to love him so desperately, wanted the fairytale love which he was offering. But the truth was she had never been born for polite love. Gabriel’s love had been wild and desperate and hard. In him she had found her mirror, her sheath.

She smiled at Azare across the room. Maybe she was not cut out for happy endings. One of them would die by the ends of this. She had long ago made her peace with death and part of her wanted it. Maybe that was what had made this so easy for her; she had been so calm walking into the viper’s nest. Azare kissed her palm and pulled her onto the dance floor. She kissed him while letting his hands twirl her ‘round. His lips were cold, comforting in their familiarity. Her eyes were drawn to the sealing, letting the dance take her.


x x x x x x x



“Anna, I wish to marry you.”

His admission took her off guard. Anna had not expected this to happen so soon, but maybe she had ignored the strength of his affections due to her own problems.

“But first I must confess something to you.”

Azare chose his words carefully; spoke haltingly, as if he was truly afraid of her response. She could not help but wonder at the fear which still lived within this powerful being; who could command people merely with his will alone. He spoke lengthily of Dracula and of her family and their involvement with him. Then he spoke of the gypsies and their position. Anna moved to block the flow of words with her fingers.

“Azare, I know all this. I know of the darkness in which you dwell, and I am not afraid.”

He halted, words still lingering on his lips as he took her hand.

“I am here of my free will.”

He caressed her fingers, silent and thoughtful.

“I need to know that this is real for you. That you are here for the right reasons.”

His eyes were sincere, but Anna could hear the pain in his voice. Somehow she could still not believe that he had allowed her into his heart. Part of her rejoiced at this; someone found her worthy of their love, of their heart. She was also pained through the knowledge that she must crush his heart, but warmed herself with the thought that he would not live to feel the pain.

“My family has forsaken all which I have stood for.”

Anna extended her wrist towards his face; a silent offering and acceptance of his customs.

“I am tired of being strong.”

His long fingered hands came to cradle her hand. She could see the shifts of bone and muscle underneath his skin before his face transformed and his fangs lengthened. It was not so much pain, as a mental breach when his fangs broke the skin of her wrist. She allowed him into her body this way as she had denied him in others. He did not take much, a few sips. His face changed back, lips still caressing the wound.

“Father will approve of you before the ceremony.”

Now there was smile in his voice, and Anna could not help but smile with him.

“And then you will be with me, for all time.”