#Welcome to the Black Parade still exists in the Imperium fight me

[starlitangels]

Freeborn - Part 2

... Yup. We’re back. Major Cataclysm Spoilers Ahead! 2.0k words (Part 1)

—

“You’re not comin’ with me,” Sam said, tying his boots on.

“The hell do you mean?!” I demanded. “I heard the daemon’s voice too! I’m freeborn! I want to help! I’m a good fighter, even without my wolf. You saw to that. If there’s a chance to take out the Imperium—”

“Darlin’,” Sam interrupted. “It’s not about bein’ a good fighter. If this fails...” A muscle flickered in his jaw. “You’re s’posed to be a newblood barely outta the bloodlust who was unempowered before turnin’. If you’re too good a fighter and this fails, the Imperium might force me to hand your invocations over. Especially if they realize who and what you really were—and when you actually turned.”

“Sam. I can’t just sit here and do nothing while I know you’re wading into a fight against the entire government!” I rushed after him as he finished tying his boot and left his—our—bedroom.

He stopped at the front door and spun around, putting his hands gently on my shoulders. “Stay here. Please,” he said softly.

“How can you expect me to?” I pleaded. “You know me. You can’t expect me to just stay behind when I could help!” My fangs started poking out of my mouth. I forced them to retract. “I’m coming with you.” 

I tried to edge around him, but his grip on my shoulders tightened and he forced me back into the house. “Don’t make me invoke you to stay home,” he growled lowly.

My eyes widened and my lips parted in surprise. One foot slid slightly farther back, but I didn’t take a full step.

“You wouldn’t,” I said. 

“Wouldn’t I?” Sam challenged, silver eyes catching the light and flashing.

“You promised—”

His fingers dug into my shoulders and I felt myself get slammed into a wall. Which wall, I wasn’t sure. I could only see Sam. “I can’t lose you!” he shouted. I flinched. Still getting used to vampire hearing sensitivity after two years. “Darlin’—you are literally the only thing left on this damn planet that I have to lose. And that makes you more precious to me than you could ever imagine. If you went to that fight with me, and somethin’ happened to you, I would...” He closed his eyes and shook his head. “Hell, I don’t even know. But it’d be bad.”

“Sam...”

He met my gaze. “I need you to stay here. I need somethin’ to come home to. To make sure I even want to come home. I love you, darlin’. And I can’t bear to lose you.”

For a moment, all I could do was stare. Wide-eyed. The Maker-Progeny bond between us was coiled tight and running hot. I could feel Sam’s emotions like distant flickers against my own, over the bond. Fear, concern, determination—and love.

And he gave me that look again. The one so full of care that all my fight seemed to vanish. This one had pleading in it too.

I hated myself, but I said, “I’ll stay. But you have to promise to come home to me, you hear?”

He sighed with relief and planted a kiss to my hairline. “I swear to you, darlin’, that I’ll come home.”

I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him. He clung to me, holding me close and tight—almost like he suspected this would be the last time. A tear slid from his eye and down the channel where our cheeks pressed together.

When I pulled away, a little breathless, I gave him a small, encouraging grin. “Go kick some Imperial ass. For everything they took from us.”

He smiled. It was a wickedly pleased smile, his fangs snapping out into place. “With pleasure, darlin’.”

One more deep, desperate kiss—

And he was gone.

I growled and slammed the front door, shutting myself inside the empty house. And hating myself for doing so. It went against everything I was. Every instinct growing up a shifter in the Imperium instilled in me. I was a fighter. But I was more than that. I was a protector. I protected my pack—my family.

And the most recent, most loved member of my family had just run away from me to go fight for our future.

If Sam expected to come home to find everything perfectly intact, he was sorely mistaken.

I saw to that as I tore two of the firewood logs in half with my bare hands in quick succession. Gabe had taught me how to do it when my generation of the pack was just starting to manifest powers. David and I had gotten it down easy. Milo struggled a little. Ash a little less.

Now, as a vampire, I could have simply crushed the log in my fist.

But that didn’t feel as cathartic.

I threw the pieces back on the pile and sat heavily on the sofa. I was tempted to rip one of the decorative throw pillows in half. But didn’t. I’d find something better to break.

It took me all of twenty seconds to realize I wouldn’t be able to sit still for however long Sam would be gone. Hours, probably.

I shoved to my feet and started pacing the house, grumbling and growling to myself. Eventually stomping over to the refrigerator and finding one of the spare blood bags. I heated it up—chilled blood just tasted... wrong—and drank down the contents. Hoping it would calm down the predator instincts that hadn’t changed when I’d turned from werewolf to vampire. I was still a hunter and I was still me. Sitting idly by and doing nothing was grating.

While I was in the bloodlust, Sam had tried to find ways to let me vent my frustrations in a physical way that wasn’t destructive. Running through the woods had helped, but I’d utterly destroyed six punching bags before Sam figured that might not be the best option. Chopping wood ended with me splitting the stump that we set the logs on into pieces with how hard I’d swung the axe. Sam had realized—quickly—that I’d been strong as a shifter and becoming a vampire was an easy adjustment in that category. Maybe too easy.

C’mon, Tank, I thought to myself. Find something to do. Distract yourself for one minute. Then two. Then ten.

I bit my lip and turned in a slow circle. My eyes lighted on the door to the garage.

Sam had taken off at a run. He hadn’t taken the truck.

“Well. Time to tune an engine,” I said aloud to no one but myself.

And the picture on the wall of me and Sam.

—

When Sam got back to his house, a base line was thumping so strongly from the garage that it was shaking the picture frames on the wall. He’d heard it from miles away, but now that he was home it was nearly overwhelming. “Darlin’?” he called.

No response.

“Darlin’?!” he shouted.

Nothing.

He ran into the garage.

There. Leaning across the engine of his truck in a grease-stained tank-top and jeans, one boot extended backward for balance. Tool in hand.

Singing along to the words. “We’ll carry on—we’ll carry o-o-on—and though you’re dead and gone, believe me—your memory will carry on!”

Sam snapped the switch on the Bluetooth speaker that had been dragged into the garage.

His—former—wolf jolted at the sudden lack of noise and whirled. “Hey!” they protested, fangs poking out in defensiveness. “I was listening to that!”

“You about scared me to death is what you did. Not respondin’ when I shouted for you.”

They shrugged, fangs retracting. “Didn’t hear you over the music.”

“Is there a reason it was so loud?”

They took a deep breath. “I had to drown out my thoughts.” Sass painted their expression. “Unless of course you wanted me to come after you.”

Sam sighed. “Ah,” he said.

“Yes. ‘Ah’,” they retorted sarcastically, setting their tool down and wiping their hands on a rag.

—

“So,” I said casually, trying to calm down. “How’d it go? You don’t look hurt.”

He didn’t look injured, but his clothing had several tears in it. He’d definitely been in a fight.

A truly wicked smirk appeared on his face. “It went better’n you’d believe. C’mon. There’s somethin’ I wanna show you.” He held out a hand for me. I glanced down at the grease stains on my skin and clothes. “Doesn’t matter what you look like, darlin’. Just come with me.”

I took his hand.

We took off at a run out of the house. Despite being significantly older than me—in terms of time as a vampire, as well as in general, but we were biologically frozen only a few years apart—I could keep up with him as he ran. He should have been a decent bit faster than me, but I chalked it up to being a shifter before and already being fast.

My hand tightened around his before letting go completely. “Wait—Sam—why are you taking me to the Spire?” I heard my own heart rate spike.

We both halted. Sam put out his hands placatingly. “Darlin’, it’s not what you’re thinkin’. I’m not handin’ you over to the Imperium. There is no Imperium anymore.”

I blinked at him several times. “What?!”

“Just... calm down. It’s alright. There’s nothin’ to fear from the Imperium anymore.”

“Sam... what happened?”

“I did as you told me to. Kicked some Imperial ass for everythin’ they took from us.”

“Sam.”

He gave me a look, his silver eyes glittering in the starlight. Then a careful smile tugged on the corners of his lips. “I turned the illustrious king-imperial into a vampire, and took the throne. For Dahlia, at least. The other Mass-Makers are more’n welcome to fight for territory outside the city.”

I stared. That certainly wasn’t the answer I was expecting. I didn’t know what I had been expecting but it wasn’t that.

“What... what about my pack?” I asked. “What’s gonna happen to them?”

“Well. They’re important to you, so they’re important to me. They’ll be safe here, in the city. Protected.”

“Promise?”

“I swear.”

Some of the tension in my shoulders melted away. “Okay.”

Sam smiled encouragingly. “Wanna come see our new home? We’ll maintain the house when we want true privacy, of course, but I think you’ll quite like our new bedroom.” He held his hand out to me.

I swallowed, unsure why apprehension was coiling in my gut, and took his hand.

We closed the distance to the Spire.

—

I lounged casually across Sam’s lap on the throne in the empty throne room. “Gotta admit,” I remarked, “I was worried at first. But this isn’t so bad.”

Sam laughed as he wrapped his arms around me. “Knew you’d come to enjoy it, darlin’. Kinda nice to be treated with respect for once, ain’t it?”

“Is it respect, or is it fear?” I asked.

Sam met my eyes. “Fear is a kind of respect, darlin’. Probably the healthiest kind in terms of self-preservation.”

I snorted. “Who’s self-preservation? I’ve never met her.”

Sam chuckled softly and kissed my hairline. “I know.”

I leaned, my mid-back pressing against the arm rest of the throne. “So, King Samuel Collins...” I licked my lower lip and smirked, feeling my fangs elongate just a little. “Are we just gonna sit here or are you gonna...” I walked two fingers up his chest and popped the top button of his flannel. “... enjoy your consort?” I finished in a whisper.

Sam growled—playfully—and wrapped his arms possessively around me. “Oh, darlin’, I plan on enjoyin’ you in every inch of this damn buildin’. But, rest assured, you are far more than just a consort. You’re my most trusted advisor. My right-hand. The love that my damned to Hell life never deserved. And I plan on showin’ you that...” He kissed me, deep and slow. “... for the rest of forever.”

I nipped at his lower lip. “Well, come on then, cowboy,” I teased before dropping into a whisper. “Show me.”

—

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