To Kiss a Killer

To Kiss a Killer

Chapter 23: The Vampire

By the time I reached the exit doors to the Association building I couldn’t feel my knees. My legs felt like pudding, my chest was being squeezed by the hand of reality. I didn’t want to believe it, I wouldn’t let myself believe it, but Nathaniel, my Nate… was dead.

Stella took Nate away from me, the vampire I promised care and safety the night I came upon him two hundred years ago, she took him away from me! I had to avenge my friend who was just about a son to me; I raised him into the vampire he was, strong, vise (even if he was a little reckless at times), and everything to me. I loved him so much, like a child… and now he was gone.

Dropping to my knees I wondered what was going through his mind before he met his end, the moment the stake penetrated him; my only wish that was… if there was such thing as Heaven, that the one the humans call “God” would be generous enough to welcome my Nathaniel. He may have been lackadaisical went it came to others, but that didn’t mean he deserved to spend eternity in a Hell. Nate deserved better; the least I could give him was retribution.

And the time of reckoning would be tonight.

I was sure of it.

As I rose to my feet a buckling came to my knees, a weakness I couldn’t get passed, and when confusion finally guzzled my being, I became the victim to a solid blow to my chest with something that could definitely be compared to being struck with the block of a solid mallet.

With an ugh, I flew back from the doors, my back slamming up against the front base of the lobby counter. Panic filled me in the instant of impact, not having a clue in the world as to whom or what had hit me with the force of a wrecking ball. My ribs experienced the attention of breakage, three on each side of my chest broken on the inside.

I winced harshly at the dire tenderness when I slowly brought myself to my feet. My ribs rubbed up against their neighboring bones sending shocks of agony rushing to every nerve within my upper body. My arms throbbed, waiting calamitous seconds looking about my surroundings as I healed.

Nothing was there… Nothing at all.

The attendant hired by Demiesius was scheduled to start next weekend, and as my eyes moved, nothing out of place caught my mind. I was alone in the lobby.

When my last rib agonizingly splintered back into place, I set a hand on my chest in fear of it happening again. Surveying the darkness once more, I settled my breathing, anticipating anything else that would come. I was scared of what it may be, what it had been that flung me just about fifteen feet back, breaking several of my bones. Considering the Association to be haunted was going a little beyond the limit, but still… what else could it have been?

I took a step for the stairs again, about to make my way up to Demiesius’ office for confirmation; though, as I reached for the railing, it felt like someone had wrapped rigid twine around my forearm, the sensation beginning to burn through my arm’s skin. I gritted my teeth, hissing from the severe ache running up my arm, and started on my other. Soon, both my arms were being tortured by what I could image was silver chains.

I held my scream in my mouth, unwilling to let it out.

An inconsiderate tug met my right arm, pulling me down with force until I was on my knees, and with the gesture, a call for leniency entered my ears. The voice, they were being tortured, and I … I was feeling every second of it.

Their tone became mournful when I made it to my knees, trying with all my might to lift myself from the floor, but by the time I had one knee off the ground, a driving force met the side of my face, blood spilling from my mouth.

I held it together, though, keeping my pride… hoping the real victim was trying to keep it together as well, showing their attackers they weren’t frightened; however, as the pleas persisted in echoing my ear, with “Please, stop,” and, “Why are you doing this to me?” I was more than certain they couldn’t handle their anguish anymore than I could.

Embracing the pain, I spit a clump of blood from my mouth, its burgundy shine tarnishing the floor. Again, I built up what strength I could, which was just a small amount ,because the silver of the imperceptible chains wrapping my arms were draining my potency, I stood this time, bringing myself up on both feet.

I stood in one place for a few seconds, trying to balance my stance before taking a troublesome step for the stairs.

My left arm was yanked, stretching out. The force made me stumble, and my shoulder slammed up against the wall. I turned over on my back, my right arm then being yanked… stretching out with a vigorous jerk.

“No, stop; you can’t do this to me,” the voice pleaded with no avail.

I closed my eyes, fearful of what would come, and just when I figured the worst, a passionate burn met my upper right chest and then the left. It felt like a brand, purposed for cattle, but without the ability to grasp my shirt and pull it over my head, I couldn’t be totally sure.

I hissed through my clamped teeth, taking in the agony that ran rapid throughout my entire body; no matter what I focused on, I couldn’t get the pain out of my head. Ciel didn’t work. Nate didn’t work. Not even the will of my own maker; Demiesius didn’t work either.

Unable to call out for help, I let the pain pass until the pressure of having brands pressed to me faded. The compelling compressing discontinue after a long while, leaving me standing weakly against the wall until I slid my back down, seated there impaired.

A grumbled started I my stomach, a grumbled that didn’t speak of hunger or emptiness that needed to be quenched, but of disgust and soreness. A knot ran up my esophagus, and before I knew it, a river of blood escaped the entrails of my stomach. I coughed up so much that my mouth looked like I’d torn someone apart with my fangs, my jaw coated in crimson, every drop running down my jaw, to my shirt, to drip from my clothing and the flooring beneath me.

What was happening in that cell that it would affect me in this conduct?

The voice’s own cough filled my ears; they must’ve thrown up as well. “No more,” they wheezed, “Leave me, please-.”

“S-S-Stop begging them,” I brought myself to say, my own tone so low I couldn’t really hear myself as I spoke. “Don’t make yourself weak before them; they – they are nothing more than brutes that deserve to see their own death. Be strong…”

A blunt force met my head, my neck snapping to the right like a fist hammering across my face. “Don’t give in to them,” I let blood drain from my mouth for my lips having burst, “Don’t let them bring you down.”

“I can’t take this any…more.”

“Yes – yes you can, just be strong. I will set you free.”

“Hurry…”

The voice faded then and my healing closed every wound in my body. I lifted up my shirt to see the branded marks left behind, and a familiar image began to grow fainter until nothing of it was there, my chest looked as clear as it did before the sudden attack.

I stood then, able to keep my balance, trying to locate the exact image that was burned onto me. I knew I’d seen it somewhere before in… in…in Demiesius’ office.

With my ability to move again, I worked myself up the stairs, heading for my suite. I went inside resisting the headache coming to me and listened for Ciel.

He was in my room.

I started down the dark hall, and could hear a faint cry escaping my room. I grasped the doorknob, turning it slowly and stepped inside.

Ciel was dressed down in one of my oversized shirts, boxer-briefs underneath with nothing else. He was curled up in the center of my bed, a pillow placed against his stomach. I was glad to see he was here and not in Demiesius’ office going through questioning. I would’ve questioned him, too, I wanted to ask him a few questions about the incident, but I figured I already knew the answers.

Nearing the bed I set a hand on his leg, frightening him for him not noticing my return. He shot a look at me, watery eyes shining in the darkness of the room. He sat up on his knees and wrapped his arms around my neck, holding me in front of him, as if telling me he never wanted me to go.

“Oh, Dom,” he tried to conceal his sob, “I’m so sorry.”

“Shh,” I sounded, “Don’t talk about it; it wasn’t your fault.”

“But if I-.”

“Ciel…” I met his eyes, “Stop; it’s done.”

Sitting back, he crossed his legs, twiddling his fingers together. “Did you find that bitch?”

“I never went.”

“What; then…” he motioned towards my mouth, “where did all this blood come from?”

Oh, yeah… I forgot.

“Um,” I thought things through, but figured I should just come out with the truth. With what’s been going on lately, there’s really no point in lying to Ciel anymore. He deserved to know everything.

I went on, “Before I had a chance to leave, I was attacked.”

“By who!?”

“By whoever tortures the person locked away in my dreams. I was hammered in the chest, restrained by silver chains on my arms, and branded on my chest.”

Ciel hastily tugged on my shirt, lifting it, but like I already knew, I’d healed in time.

“How is that even-. Wait; I remember the time I saw you in your sleep, that night I stayed. You called out for Demiesius after being burned in your sleep.” He seemed to look me over again, “You’re okay?”

I touched his face, happy that the pain was gone, couldn’t feel anything anymore, but the memory of the stinging ache would remain. “I’m fine; aren’t you supposed to be headed home, though? Julius called didn’t he?”

Ciel sighed and stepped off the bed, taking my hand and guided me to the bathroom. He turned on the light and opened the shower door, turning on the hot water for me. “I don’t care,” he said, “Dom, I don’t wanna live there anymore. Not with him. Knowing Stella just may be there at this very moment sickens me. Can… can I stay here with you?”

How could I turn that down?

“Of course; you can stay as long as you like.”

Working me out of my shirt, Ciel tossed the blood stained fabric on the floor, tracing the indents of my abs with his fingers. “Could we maybe leave this place?”

The thought of leaving this city, Wind Ridge, was something I yearned for. Ceil and I would be able to live in a harmony all our own, not fear of ever being caught by Immortal or D.T.A.D. authorities. It was true we both were known as significant and looked up to in both societies, but our strange connection could work up something unwanted between the two worlds.

The D.T.A.D. could lose faith in the Immortals if they ever discovered my ties with Ciel. Sure Ciel’s father was aware of the matter, but that doesn’t mean the rest of the humans out there in the world would understand. With how many kills there had been from slayers being with vampires by the former Rouge, Bobby Colebrook, there was no telling how many other relationships were out there.

For all I know, Ciel and I could be the last; but if there was something I did know for a fact, it would be that if the two societies discerned our love, our story would go down in history. The progeny of the notorious vampire Demiesius Titus was in an intimate relationship with the today’s’ Slayer Public most prized component Ciel Dalton, the successor to Hamilton H. Hamilton.

Two strong beings joining forces under the noses of their people.

Was it really so much of a crime, though?

I kissed Ciel on his head, “If there was ever a possibility… it wouldn’t be right now. There’s too much going on to just pack up and go. I have to take down Stella for what she did to Nate; I have to give Nate the justice he deserves. And… if probable, I have to find who’s speaking to me, I have things to do before we can truly be happy.”

He swallowed, rested his forehead on my chest. “Hurry, then; please, Dom. I want out of this place.”

“I’ll try, Ciel. I promise, we’ll be out of here at least by the end of this weekend.”

“Promise me…?”

“Cross my heart.”