The Hunt Begins

“He said what?!” Winter’s voice rose slightly. Winter’s voice never rose. It always remained infuriatingly, unswervingly cool, calm and collected. Even on the odd occurrence when she indulged her beast, she howled logically.

“He said you were responsible or respected or recognized or something like that. And Eddykins was all, like, ‘look at me; I’m sexy Daeva-guy!’ And he did that thing they do. I love it when they do that. They get all rawr. And I get all, like, hell-yeah, where’s the bed?”

“Oh, really?” Crispin detached himself from the bar and wrapped his arms around Zeph. “He got you to think about ‘the’ bed...in the middle of a diner...in the middle of being grilled by Javier? How interesting...?” His fingers traced a path up from the spine to the nape before continuing up to the left ear, which he nipped playfully. Zeph fidgeted – Winter was still looking at him intently.

“Uh, yeah...bed....”

“And it was with him, not me?” Crispin whispered before nuzzling the side of Zeph’s neck. Fidgeting quickly became squirming and a low growl rose in Zeph’s throat. The thought of Crispin wielding the type of skills the Daeva use always made him as excited as, well, as excited as Crispin’s erection pressed flush against him.

“Zeph, I need you to focus,” Winter tried to interject.

“...I am focused...” He started to gnaw Crispin’s lower lip. “It’s really too bad he doesn’t have a pair of fangs...” he thought to himself.

“On me, not choice pieces of Crispin’s anatomy.”

“mmhmmm....”

“Zephyr!” the voice echoed in his head. He stopped himself from tearing off Crispin’s shirt and whipped his head around to face Winter. She lifted a hand to cradle the side of his face, serene visage tilted by a slight smirk. “Try to relax and think... of Javier Lefebvre.”

Zeph stared into her silver eyes. The irises became large, brilliant discs and he fell through her pupils. Silver streaks exploded into the diner and he watched the entire scene unfold again. He felt himself grow cold under Javier’s scrutiny and hot again when Edward sparked his presence. Then there was the damned Tremere appearing in the back of the limo. And more discussion. The smell of Crispin snapped him away from the memory of his drive home and the room coalesced around him again. Winter turned away in thought and pointed a remote.

At the first sound of Carli’s screams, Crispin’s erection wilted against him. Winter stared at the scene which covered the wall, her black hair shimmering in the flickering light from the projector. Zeph couldn’t move himself to look away from Carli’s arm being flensed under Valla’s meticulous ministrations. Crispin whimpered and clutched him tightly, face hidden in Zeph’s shoulder. Winter continued to stare at the picture for another moment before slowly turning her head to catch Zeph’s gaze.

“So the Invictus have finally taken notice, have they? And they sent the Master rather than the Harpy to deliver a Status announcement. I suppose it could have been worse – they could have sent a Scourge.” Zeph tried to focus on her voice: soft, neutral, and calming against the gory scene playing behind her. He felt phantom bile clog the back of his throat. The sharp tang of Crispin’s fear prompted him to stand up suddenly guide him from the room.

Zeph looked over his shoulder at Winter as he reached the doorway. She had turned back to the wall; the eerie, distorted light played upon the back of her head. He started back toward her.

“No, Zephyr. Take a good look and then take Crispin upstairs. This...this is what we must not become. Remember this, no matter what happens, no matter who tries to kill you, ruin you or break you. Never become like them - Valla, J.P., Javier, even Carli I suppose....”

“I wo-“

“Just go, and make sure Crispin’s alright.” Zeph turned to obey, mind already shifting to the supple feel of Crispin’s skin against his lips.

“And Zephyr, make sure you break a Tradition and get him embraced before you fall out of love.” Something intangible retreated from his mind and Zeph backed out of the room, screams cut short by the closing of the door.

After a few moments the scene cut to black. Winter stared blankly at the dark wall before sliding her gaze to the bar. She stood up with a rustle of silk and walked slowly toward it, selecting a small ceramic cup and retrieving a small black bottle from the steel refrigerator. She poured the liquid slowly, focusing on the slightly gelid texture of the liquid.

“And so it begins....” She toasted to the empty room and tilted the cup back swiftly, the floral notes of the blood infused sake cold on her tongue and strangely comforting as it mixed with the chilling tingle that played up and down her spine. It had been a long time since she had felt fear.