#c; owen lundkvist

[itzbridiebitch]

Blood in the Water

TIMING: at some point while Bridie was cursed

LOCATION: Dance Macabre

PARTIES: @apaininyourneck and @itzbridiebitch

SUMMARY: Owen asks for a favor, and Bridie plays bait. Unfortunately, the fish she’s playing bait for has sharp teeth.

CONTENT WARNINGS: gore tw, drug tw, drug manipulation tw, themes of sexual harassment tw

Bridie sipped at a seltzer that she was imagining tasted like a fruity little cocktail. Being under the influence didn’t seem like a good idea for someone who was agreeing to be bait.

She didn’t like the word bait. It made her feel like a worm curled around a metal hook, waiting for some big fish to come eat her. Which wasn’t a particularly great feeling for someone who was already on edge.

Bridie had barely slept the night before. Voices popping in and out of her head had kept her up the majority of the night. Voices talking about things, horrible things. Bridie knew she was no innocent, but even she wasn’t that twisted. And was worse was that she’d yet to find an effective way to drown it out.

She hasn’t heard any additional voices in her head yet today. Just her own. The faun shook off the thought, deciding the task at hand was much more important to focus on. “So… what exactly is the plan? Other than me being sexy and a certifiable snack.”

——

After their last encounter, Owen had done a little bit of digging on the specific type of strange that Bridie seemed to be. Sure enough, it seemed everything she’d said to this point was true. It wasn’t like he’d needed any help to have fun on either of their nights out together and as far as he could tell, her specific form of feeding wasn’t dangerous - at least to the extent she seemed to be doing it.

Armed with all this information, and what seemed like a solid guarantee that he wouldn’t be turned into a whole goddamn meal for her, it was easier to sit down with Bridie. Especially so since she had a nice purpose now, too. “That you are,” Owen replied back, finding it much easier to fall into their old pattern instead of thinking too much about the horns that rested on her head, unseen. “But as you might have noticed after the encounter with what’s his face back at the club, may he rest in pieces, fae blood is… let’s say, extra tasty.”

Sipping from his beer with a slightly amused glance at Bridie’s pathetic seltzer, Owen continued. “There’s this particularly shitty vampire I’ve been trying to ‘have a discussion with’,” one hand raised from the table for the accompanying air quotes, “and the fucker never goes anywhere alone. Always has a damn posse of other bastards around him. So I figured you could lure him off someplace private, seeing as you also have the charm for it.”

_____

Bridie sat taller in her chair as he agreed with her statement. An improvement to last time. She frowned a bit, looking down at her wrist as though the secrets of the universe lay just beneath the skins surface. “So I’m an extra snacky snack.” She said as if it were some great scientific discovery.

She noticed the look he shot toward her seltzer. Bridie frowned. “Hey, look, you’re asking me to shake my tasty ass in front of someone who would love to make me his very own capri-sun. Excuse me if I opt for something non-alcoholic.”

Whispers crept up in the corner of her mind and she closed her eyes for a minute, letting out a long sigh. For all the world it looked like she were contemplating the situation instead of screaming internally for the voices to just go away.

“So.” The faun finally said, opening her eyes. “This is definitely in my wheelhouse. Seduce, get them to a secondary location, and then you do your usual hack and slash and kick their asses so I’m not bloodless?”

____

The way she perked up at his words made Owen feel like he was sharing a drink with an overeager puppy. It hadn’t gone unnoticed, Bridie’s hurt at the way he’d reacted to her real form. Honestly, what had she expected? If he’d given her shit when the assumption had been that she was human, why would he not poke fun at the revelation that she was basically half animal? All that aside, he enjoyed her presence much more when she wasn’t all gloomy and defensive. “That’s one way to put it,” he snorted, shaking his head.

Rolling his eyes, Owen pushed his beer towards her and grabbed at her glass of seltzer instead, placing it on the table behind him. “Please, it’s not like you’re usually sober when you shake your ass.” Watching carefully as Bridie closed her eyes, Owen wondered if she was going to make him claim that favor she owed him. Wondered if this piece of shit was worth wasting an actual, life threatening promise. And then she seemed to agree.

“That’s about it. And we’re going to find him at a club so you can even do some snacking of your own. Win win, yeah?”

_____

“Well I think it’s an accurate way to put it. I am a snack. And to them I am snack food. Therefore: extra snacky snack.” Her tone wasn’t as chipper as it usually would have been. No matter how hard she tried to act like nothing was wrong, Bridie couldn’t fully sell it. Maybe it was part of the whole fae can’t lie thing… At least in this scenario it could be excused for nervousness.

She started to voice a protest as he plucked the bubbly water off the table, pushing his beer toward her in its place. He had a point. And she knew she was acting weird. And the fewer people that knew she was maybe losing her mind, the better. Bridie picked up his beer and took a sip. Then another. The faun sighed, raising an eyebrow as if to say ‘happy?’

“Yeah… win win.” She wouldn’t bother mentioning she couldn’t actually feed on the undead. They were just fun to party with since they couldn’t dance until they literally dropped. “What did you say this club was called again?”

Dance Macabre, as it turned out, was in the section of town where Bridie was certain to be somebody’s dinner. The knowledge of it slithered down her spine as nerves prickled up in its wake. But she had Owen with her… he wouldn’t let anything happen to her… probably. The voice in her head disagreed, resuming it’s chant of he’ll kill you too that it had started on the first night. The faun gritted her teeth. Smoothing out her little black dress as they went to walk in, she lowered her voice. “So, babes, what’s this guys name, what does he look like, and what should I know?”

_____

Of course vaguely threatening to stab Bridie with an iron knife had put a small dent in what had previously been a rather good arrangement. Forming this sort of camraderie with the owner of a decent enough nightclub was benefit enough but coupled with her attitude of not giving a shit, attempting to make every single moment fun and being a rather nice lay was making Owen almost regret that the secret was out. He could have gone a bit longer without knowing his new buddy was far from human but at least Bridie could serve a different purpose now. And maybe he would just get over himself about the whole goat thing because it’s not like the goat part was actually what he’d… yeah, that thought would be revisited at a later time.

Despite all of that, he’d only expected Bridie to be somewhat less chipper than usual. This version of her was almost unnerving, the jokes and nicknames feeling flat in a way. The question of whether or not she was doing alright had almost slipped out on occasion but at the risk of it starting another conversation about how much she valued her true form and that he was a dick, Owen refrained. Besides, it was easy enough to bring his focus away from her strange demeanour when the slayer felt like crawling out of his skin with every step they advanced towards the doors. Fucking vampires. “Calls himself Raven,” Owen scoffed, leaning closer to Bridie to keep their conversation private.

“Short little shit, black greasy hair that hasn’t been restyled since people actually thought emos were all the rage. Bunch of facial piercings, probably surrounded by a possy of similar looking idiots.” Owen felt a bitter taste in his mouth grow. No one who’d known him for more than a day would mistake his vampire hunting as altruistic but the world would guaranteed be a better place with that sad sack of shit dusted. “Don’t drink anything he offers you since his MO is spiking cocktails. Make him come to you, just so he doesn’t get too suspicious.” Giving Bridie a once over, Owen nodded to himself. “Aside from your smell, you’re probably going to be the best looking person in there so shouldn’t be too hard.”

They walked into the club, Owen’s jaw tensing with the need to banish this feeling of bugs crawling all over his skin. Leaning in again, he murmured, “whether or not we trust each other, I’m not letting some vampire scum kill you. I’ll keep an eye on you.” Before moving back, he gave her dress a small tug to expose her cleavage to an almost indecent amount, leaving for the bar with a wink and a nod as he vanished into the crowd.

______

“Raven,” she scoffed, raising an eyebrow. “That’s their actual name?” It felt too perfect for a vampire. They probably changed their name after they’d gone all creature of the night. There was a voice in her head whispering that this was a bad idea, but she couldn’t tell if it was her own, or one of her uninvited guests. Her mouth quirked up in a half smile. “Probably? I’m definitely going to be the best looking one there, babes.”

Her eyes flickered up to his as he leaned in to say he’d keep an eye on her. “I trust you,” she said softly. Well, Bridie trusted that he’d want the official bargain she owed him, and it would be hard to collect on a favor if she was an empty juice box at a vampire night club. She snorted out a laugh as he tugged her dress down. She adjusted it a bit further. “If you’ve got it, flaunt it.” She muttered to herself just before Owen disappeared into the crowd. With a sigh, she made her way in.

The music did a fairly good job of blocking out the voices. She guessed the undead didn’t worry about damaging their hearing, since the music was so loud it practically rattled her bones. Bridie tried not to notice the eyes that trailed after her as she passed. There was no way they hadn’t clocked the presence of the fae. She was like a feast being dangled in front of starving men. Like a lamb walking into the lions den. She forced herself to walk taller.

Grabbing a quick drink from the bar to blend in, she started scoping around for someone who matched Owen’s description. It didn’t take her too long. Raven was in a corner with his little coven of friends. And lucky for her, he was watching her curiously. One of the voices screamed over the music about being watched, and Bridie took a long sip of her drink to shut it up. She waved her fingers in a little hello to the vampire, shooting him a wink. It took a few minutes of making eyes at him from across the bar, but Raven made some excuses to his friends before walking across the club to Bridie. Everything was going according to plan.

It wasn’t hard to seduce someone who was already interested. Bridie had practically made a game of it over the years. She buttered them up with a compliment about having pretty eyes, or smile, or whatever she picked that night, told them she saw them and knew she just had to talk to them. Sometimes she genuinely meant it. Other times, it was just for the fun of it. But this was the first time she had done it as a distraction.

Raven was as predictable as Owen had described. Bridie was giggling bashfully as he described her as sunlight to a man who had only seen the moon for years or some other predictable vampirey bullshit. God this guy was tacky. At least Bridie didn’t play a pan flute and skip around naked in the woods going ‘come follow me, the wine and orgies are this way!’

The voices started chittering again. Cackles and screams, and a very calm but very loud ‘Run,’ in her mind had her glancing over her shoulder a moment, looking around, praying she didn’t look nervous. Taking a sip of her drink, she slid a hand across Raven’s chest as she snuggled up to him. She hadn’t seen where Owen had gone, but Bridie knew he was somewhere close by. Raven was smiling, and leading her toward the back. Bridie followed, assuming Owen was close behind. Please get there before it’s juice box time she thought to herself.

She was suddenly very tired, her movements taking more effort than they typically did. She was backed up in a corner. When did she get in the corner? Breath ghosted over her neck. One of the voices laughed maddeningly in her head. Game over, little lamb, It taunted. Bridie had barely let out the start of a scream when fangs sank down into her neck. She scrabbled feebly against him, but his teeth sank further into her neck. She let out a pathetic bleat- a pained cry as she tried to get a better angle to kick the vampire off.

____

There was a gnawing feeling of something about to go wrong eating away at Owen as he sipped at his drink. It was hard to distinguish from the overwhelming barrage of being surrounded by the undead but it was there. He didn’t usually plan stings like these since vampire scum was easy enough to come by simply while walking through this mess of a town but knowing about this asshole’s tactics and not being able to wipe him from the face of the earth… honestly, Owen would have respected him more if he just manned up and killed people to feed. This way was manipulative and just downright creepy. He’d spotted a few would-be drink spikers at The Wormhole and nothing gave him more pleasure than dragging them out back for a little lesson.

Trying to push all of this aside while being berated by people attempting to start a conversation with him or by him a drink, something he would usually have enjoyed but never here, Owen did miss bits and pieces of Bridie flirting up a storm. Not a bad thing in itself as watching Raven work his “magic” was absolutely revolting. Bridie seemed to be doing alright, sticking to the plan as the two started to work their way through the crowd, Owen following quickly behind. All Bridie had to do was keep the bastard talking for less than a minute, tease a drink from a fae for a brief moment and everything would be going according to plan. Of course, what were plans if not disasters waiting to happen?

His hand had just touched the door the pair had vanished through when a familiar voice was crying out, faint but audible. Shit. Slipping through the door into a hallway, Owen mentally cursed again because this was way too public. Not for vampire feeding obviously, no one gave two fucks about that here, but for slaying? What the hell was Bridie thinking? Rearranging the plan in his head as quickly as possible, Owen reached for a broom standing next to the door, jamming it horizontally between two walls right in front of the entrance. It wouldn’t hold long but hopefully give him time to finish off this bloodsucker before a swarm of undead burst through the door.

“Hey, buddy? Get the fuck off, yeah?” Slowly, the greasy head of hair turned, blood coated lips parted in confusion. Bridie looked like absolute shit, eyes barely hanging open and anger coiled around Owen’s stomach. Directed at the vampire for being such an absolute waste of space or Bridie for doing the one thing Owen had told her not to? Unsure, but it was there and it bypassed the rational plan of ‘quick and efficient’ and goaded Owen into charging at the vampire instead, tearing it away from his drugged up partner and slamming it into a wall, followed by an oh-so satisfying crack as his fist met the pierced face.

______

The teeth in her neck hurt more this time- it was as if the bastard was trying to rip her throat out. Like a hungry wolf that had happened upon a lamb that had wandered too far from the flock. Bridie knew it was worse this time, even in the panicked hazy state she was in. He’d bit harder, and there was definitely more blood. And the voices- the voices kept taunting, kept laughing, kept screaming, as if it was a celebration for the faun’s downfall. She wondered if this would be how she died? In a back room where she had agreed to play bait and the trap had snapped shut with her still inside.

She heard another voice. A new voice. No it wasn’t new. She knew that voice. Owen. The mouth on her neck pulled back. She whimpered, tears streaking down her face, mixing with the blood on her neck. Bridie was trapped until the vampire slayer hauled off and slammed his fist into the vampire's face.

She scrambled clumsily back into a corner, tucking herself far away. She pressed her hands to her neck, willing her neck to stop bleeding, stop, stop, stop. Eyes shut tight, she tried to calm herself. But the voices would not have that. Foolish little girl, bleeding out after playing bait. Should have known better and now she’s going to die- just another snack, just another tasty morsel, just food to be consumed. Only a matter of time till he finishes the job, little lamb. Bridie shut her eyes tighter, trying to shake the voice from her head, yelping in pain at the strain it caused her neck. You’ll be okay, Bridie. You’re gonna be okay. Just hang in there. She told herself through the crowd of voices in her mind. Just hang in there.

______

“Shit, man. I didn’t know she had a boyfriend, okay?!” It was absolutely pathetic, from the words to the way he delivered them, hands raised pathetically. As Owen had suspected, this vampire was nothing without his posse and disgusting way of feeding. A weak, little piece of shit.

“That’s not the worst of your problems,” Owen snarled, delivering another punch and another, knuckles starting to ache and tear open from the piercings until the face he was beating no longer looked like a face. Everything else had vanished from his mind’s eye, overpowered by pure rage, sense only returning at the faint sound of pain somewhere behind him. Blinking, his grip on the vampire going loose making it slump down to the ground, Owen regained some awareness of his surroundings. Bridie was crumpled up in the corner, clutching at her neck without much luck, blood seeping out between her fingers.

Rushing over, Owen grabbed at the nearest piece of material, some dirty rag hanging off a shelf, and pulled Bridie’s hands away from her neck. These weren’t nice, clean puncture wounds but more like someone had been attempting to take a chunk from her neck. Pressing the rag against her neck, his movements far from gentle with anger and something akin to stress rushing through him. He wasn’t even sure if Bridie was still conscious, the hand not holding pressure on the rag cupping her face to lift it. With his usual composure somewhat fractured at the moment, he barely even noticed the appearance of horns and very different legs. “Hey. Bridie, you gotta work with me here and hold this. Bridie?” Nothing.

Cursing under his breath, Owen’s head whipped at yet another distraction, someone trying to come through the door. Someone shouting Raven’s name. Clearly the piece of shit had intended to share once he’d had his fill. Turning back to Bridie, he patted her cheek. “Come on, goat lady. Wake the fuck up and stop bleeding out before you get both of us killed.” If she could hear him, hopefully she would get annoyed enough to correct him. The banging on the door grew heavier. He needed to stake the beaten up motherfucker in the corner now and get Bridie the fuck out of here.

_______

It was like she was half there, half somewhere else. She distantly observed Owen attempting to knock the vampire’s head clean off it’s shoulders with nothing but his fists. She knew she was bleeding. She also existed in a place that was nothing but sound. The sound of her panicked heart beats. The sound of her ragged breathing the sound of a voice telling her that it had warned her, that he would kill her. More voices talking about other dark, horrible things. The sound of Owen’s fists. The sound of her blood dripping on the floor.

It was funny, with all the listening, that Bridie didn’t hear him talking to her at first. She let out a panicked whimper as hands pulled hers from her neck. Something was hastily pressed against her neck and was held fast. It was scratchy, but softer than fangs. She didn’t protest. She heard something. A muffled noise. Like a voice from the outside of a house. She tried to focus.

Goat lady. That pulled her back into the world. Her eyes opened, and she focused on Owen’s face. And boy did he look pissed. “The words you’re looking for are pretty faun,” she rasped, trying to push herself into a straighter position, moving her hand back to hold the rag in place. Then she noticed the vampire on the floor, still very much not a pile of dust, who was starting to stir. “Owen,” Bridie said, pointing back to the vampire as she pressed herself back into the wall

__________

God, he’d never been so fucking relieved to have someone talk back to him. Bridie’s words were strained but she was awake and alive - enough so to have her attention where Owen’s should have been. With his companion in less risk of bleeding out, he moved quickly, rising to stand quickly and kicking the already mangled face so the vampire slumped back to the ground. No longer wasting time, Owen retrieved his stake and made the world a slightly less shit place, leaving behind only a pile of dust and those pretentious and awful piercings.

Right as he was about to put away his stake in order to get the faun out of here, the door burst open and the pity excuse for a door block shattered. There was a pause from the newcomers, halting in the doorway as they portrayed the unusual scene, piecing together that their sorry excuse for a leader was gone. Angry eyes turned to Owen, still holding the weapon, while others turned to Bridie with hunger shining on their faces. “You let us leave, no one else has to end up like that shitbag.” He didn’t usually bargain but Bridie didn’t really have time for anything else. It had been worth a shot but this evening was full of disappointment.

Almost like one big, living thing, the swarm of creatures advanced. As tempting as it was to take all of his frustration out on them, Owen wasn’t even sure which were vampires and which weren’t. In theory, he could have just beheaded all of them to make sure but that took time and he wouldn’t be able to keep the motherfuckers away from the fading Bridie if he was busy chopping off heads. So with the acidic taste of running away in his mouth, Owen managed to drive his stake into the closest attacker’s face, buying him the few seconds necessary to scoop Bridie up.

Not having his hands free was an absolute bitch, cemented when he felt something sharp slash across his back. He wasn’t really sure where he was running to, only sprinting away from, shoving past people and slipping down hallways until a neon exit sign came into view and Owen finally burst through the door and out into the fresh air. He didn’t stop running until the club was at least a few blocks away, breathing heavily and finally taking a moment to check whether he’d just been carrying a corpse these past few blocks. The moment he stopped, the pain in his back made its presence known, searing as he took note of how wet his back felt.

______

No sooner had the vampire been made into a pile of dust had the door been busted open. This was turning into a shit show. She could feel the eyes on her, on her neck that had been painted crimson. Shit.

The room burst into movement, and Bridie hardly knew what was happening. Next thing she know, strong arms had scooped her up and we’re carrying her away as fast as they could. She let out a yelp of concern as she watched a knife slash across Owen’s back. He kept running. The noise of the club faded, leaving her with only the sound of shoes against pavement and the chorus of voices in her head who had reveled in the violence.

Bridie’s head rested against the crook of his neck, and she did her best not to move it. She still had the rag pressed tight to her throat. She didn’t realize that she was crying until her brain registered the tears streaking down her face.

“I’m sorry,” Bridie babbled, almost inaudible through silent tears. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, so sorry. So sorry.” She wasn't sure how long she had been saying it. Maybe since the second those arms had scooped her off the floor. She was shaking, from adrenaline and fear more than anything. Your fault. The voices sang in a chiding tone. Your fault, your fault. “Are you okay?”

_______

The sounds coming from Bridie finally started to register as words once he’d stopped, a different kind of liquid having stained his neck and shirt, the faun’s eyes seeming to produce an endless amount of tears. For the the first time in years, Owen had foregone his usual instinct of ‘fight’ for both ‘flight’ and now finally ‘freeze.’ He didn’t have a response for the crying shape in his arms, didn’t have any semblance of a plan and it made him feel weak. As soon as a name had been put on the feeling, it was replaced by anger because feeling weak was useless. With the anger, at least he could take action. Obviously no ambulance since half-goat was bound to raise questions. It didn’t seem like Bridie really had any close friends in town from the way she spoke…

It felt redundant to leave her here after going through all of that to get out his… friend? It felt too strong of a word, leaving a bad taste in his mouth, or maybe that was just the aftertaste of what could only be described as turmoil. The only feelings that were allowed to run rampant were anger and pleasure but back there, a small voice whispered, worry had taken the wheel. Disguised as anger, sure, but it had made Owen sloppy and not in the charismatic way he usually was. A part of him wished he’d simply done the right thing by any hunter code and used the damn iron knife as soon as he’d found out. Or let the warden finish the job Owen had interrupted.

Drawn away from his thoughts by Bridie doing something other than apologizing, Owen finally looked down, gaze previously locked on a distant street light. “No.”

Physically, he’d be fine. He’d recovered from way worse but the fact that none of this was supposed to happen was not ‘okay.’ “What the fuck were you thinking?” With the danger gone and her tear streaked eyes way too close for comfort, Owen finally lowered her to the ground, at least being decent enough to leave her with a wall behind her for support. “I told you one goddamn thing. You couldn’t even look after your drink?”

———-

There was a dark laugh in the back of her mind. She curled into herself as she tried to cringe away from it. It sounded a million miles away, his ‘no’. Bridie struggled to keep her head on straight, to focus. At least she was fairly sure the rag she had pressed to her neck was doing a good job of staunching the bleeding. She still frowned, trying to see, to assess how bad his injuries were, to see just how much of a mess she’d caused.

But then he was… yelling at her. Unsteady legs touched the ground, and the faun sagged against the wall. Breathing that was already uneasy from pain and tears grew ragged with hurt and anger.

“What?” She blinked rapidly, trying to clear away the voices in her mind to focus on Owen. “What was I thinking? I willingly walked in to a fucking vipers den so that you could draw out your mark.” Tears still cut across Bridie’s face as she watched him, confused. “I was watching.” She tried to inject as much anger into the statement as she could, but it came out a sob. “I thought you were right behind-“

The voices in her head cut her off, and she cringed away from them. Bridie wasn’t sure how bad her neck was, but if she wasn’t dead at this point she would probably be fine. “I want to go home.” It was a whisper. It almost sounded like a child’s request. Her legs slowly gave out from under her from the sheet exhaustion of the evenings events. “I want to go home.”

One of the voices asked is home even safe? They’ll smell you there… and the faun’s eyes scrunched shut. They’ll see your neck, they’ll know. Her eyes shut tighter. She’d wear a scarf— high necked collars. Hell, she’d glamour herself. Whoever the voices seemed convinced would hunt her down would have a hell of a time finding her.

______

Owen could feel his whole body reacting to this scenario - blood and tears and raised voices setting off some strange reflex that was tensing up every muscle. In a different setting, the slayer would have used his usually on point instincts to notice how off Bridie was but now, he was just convinced that he didn’t know her at all if she turned into a sobbing mess after a small setback. He was clearly being rational right now.

“Obviously you weren’t watching, that piece of shit isn’t exactly some Houdini,” Owen growled back, the sobbing doing little to make him hold back. Jaw clenched, he turned angrily away from the unsteady faun. His stupid, worthless hands were shaking as he dug around for a cigarette, finally managing to light it up on the third try. With his back facing Bridie, it was still fairly obvious that he heard her quiet plea to go home. No response was provided, the cigarette being inhaled like a lifeline. “Getting yourself fucking drugged up and torn apart,” he muttered under his breath, still loud enough for the already shattered faun to hear. What he hoped to gain from throwing gasoline on the burnt down ruins of this situation was unclear but there wasn’t much rational thought making its way through his frazzled thoughts of anger, stress and disgust.

________

He turned away from her. She was bleeding and crying and he turned away from her… for what? For a cigarette? She watched the smoke trail up into the sky through tear stained eyes. “I was watching,” she repeated, far quieter this time. Her eyes were heavy with exhaustion. Maybe she’d at least sleep through the voices now.

She winced as he muttered to himself, faun ears picking up every last word. A ragged whimper wheezed from her lungs. She hadn’t meant for it to happen, but he was still treating it like it was all her fault. Bridie looked at him, his back turned to her. She’d take herself home. She took three shakey steps away from the wall before stumbling. Kneeling on the alley ground, she pushed herself back to her feet. She pressed a hand back to her neck, if only so she wouldn’t see her hands tremble. “I’m going home.” She rasped, trying to sound strong. She kept walking. At least she didn’t stumble this time.

———-

“That sounds like a good idea.” Owen’s voice was short, words delivered around the cigarette. He didn’t need to face Bridie to know just how much she was struggling with getting out of here. It would have been easy to assist her - lead her over to a cab or even offer to drive her home. Hell, the nice thing to do would be to drive her back to his place and patch her up. None of those options were on the table, though.

He couldn’t bear to look at her, chalking it down to anger for messing up this whole thing and getting Owen hurt and both of them nearly killed. In the dark refines of his mind, rarely visited, something poked and prodded and whispered that it wasn’t the case. This had been his plan. He had been the one to nearly get both of them killed. He had been the one to basically threaten Bridie’s life with a knife a mere few weeks ago.

Listening to her receding footsteps, Owen finished the cigarette and then lit up another, standing half motionless in the alley until the wound on his back had started to slow its bleeding.

[zofiawithaz]

Angel of Small Death

PARTIES: Owen @apaininyourneck & Sofie @sofiedupont

LOCATION: Eluria Cemetery

TIMING: Current

SUMMARY: Sofie is out looking for Cassius. Unfortunately, she finds Owen instead.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Violence

The past few days of Sofie’s life had become a pattern. Text. Check the school. Get out of the sun. Jump every time her phone let out a ding and scramble to check it. Go to the Masque to check, go to Dance Macabre to check, and walk through the entirety of Eluria Cemetery with a ball of dread sat in her stomach from a cryptic three word text that meant that something was terribly wrong. 

She was on her way to the cemetery, walking at a brisk pace. She heard her phone ding from the depths of her purse. “Kurde” she muttered, balancing her red eye in one hand while she dug in her purse with the other. She was so distracted, she didn’t hear the footsteps approaching. She didn’t notice the scent on the wind. Sofie was blissfully unaware that her evening was about to take a terrible turn. 

_________

Nights off usually ended up being a little messy. Doing nothing wasn’t really in Owen’s character and when he didn’t have the shifts at the bar to keep him busy, the two options were to either get completely wrecked or find someone - or something - else to fuck up. The evening had started to lean in the first direction but the Monday crowd had been too dull to keep his attention. Wandering into the shadier parts of Wicked’s Rest had rewarded him with a frazzled looking vampire, briskly heading towards the cemetery it seemed. 

It was a bit cliched, vampires in the cemetery but Owen wasn’t one to judge on cliches. Besides, it was nice and abandoned. He followed in the shadows until she stopped, starting to dig in her purse. “Bit late to be walking around a cemetery, isn’t it?” he called out, adrenaline already starting to flow. With how distracted she seemed, he probably could have snuck up, ended this quickly but where was the fun in that?

________

Sofie finally found her phone and saw the name on the screen. Zane. A lopsided smile crossed her face. He was a sweet boy. She really was beginning to sound like someone’s grandmother. She’d told him about how worried she was about Cassius, and he’d been checking up with her to see if there had been any progress. 

She jumped, startled by the voice a little ways off. “Oh!” She slid her phone back in her purse, hurrying her pace a little. “I suppose so. The same could be said for you, though…” Sofie tried to force a smile into her voice. “Just out for a walk.” She didn’t have time for a conversation. She only had so many hours until daylight, and still had ground to cover.

_________

A smirk slid onto his face at the sight of the woman startling. She made a very valid attempt to brush him off, starting to walk off. No, that wouldn’t do. Owen moved as well, still keeping a few feet between them, taking in the vampire. She was carrying a coffee cup from that god awful emo coffee house and through experience, Owen knew that it wasn’t just coffee. “In the cemetery?” he pushed, hands in his pockets, fingers wrapped around the hilt of a knife. His stake was still safely kept in his jacket for later. 

“Doesn’t seem safe for a pretty thing like you to be all out here alone.” Owen was slowly but surely closing the distance between them, long legs making easy work of it. Wondered how long it would take for her to snap, tell him to fuck off. Or, if she was hungry, make use of the defenseless human walking through the cemetery with her.

_______

She grimaced slightly as she walked. Apparently he seemed determined to converse. “Yes, in the cemetery.” She said, picking up the pace some more. “It’s quiet. Easy to think. No one to bother you.” Usually no one to bother you. Unfortunately, that particular evening did not seem to have solitude in the cards. Not that she was even looking for solitude. She was looking for Cassius. Or any sign as to where the hell he had gone. 

She bristled slightly at the comment, listening as his pace quickened. “I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself,” Sofie said, walking faster yet. “I thank you for your concern, but I’m quite happy on my own this evening.” She smoothed out her outfit, finding comfort in the heavy weight of the knife Cassius had given her in her pocket. 

________

It was so easy to rile people up and this woman didn’t seem to be the exception. She was fuming, making it hard for Owen to hide the smile in his voice as he spoke. Not that he was trying very hard. “Oh, you can take care of yourself? Want to prove it?” In a few easy strides, he was in front of her, walking backwards for a few strides before stopping, blocking her path. How long would it take her to sense the danger? Obviously, a demon creature like herself didn’t have anything to fear from a regular man harassing her at night but Owen wasn’t just any man. 

“You see, I’ve heard stories about blood sucking monsters in this part of town. Wouldn’t want to run into one of those disgusting creatures, now would we?” Would she run? She seemed like the type to run, even as anger rolled off her. Owen would be able to catch up easily, see just how happy she’d be to be on her own in a little while. 

___________

Shit.

It was clear he was entertained. He sounded like he was enjoying this little game of cat and mouse. As the stranger moved to cut off her path, Sofie hastily changed directions, back tracking slightly and hopping over a small headstone to get out of his path. “No thank you.” She didn’t know why she was adding niceties. Perhaps some part of her hoped that it would convince him to go bother someone else. 

She was still moving away when he started talking again. Her heart dropped in her chest. Shit, shit. “I- I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’m just trying to go for a walk.” Sofie knew it was no use. She was screwed and would likely have to fight her way out of this. She took one step back. Then another. Screw it. Sofie turned and started to run.

_______

No, thank you. Very cute. She was starting to panic now, even more so when his words reached her, the tensing of her body so very visible. Owen saw her face tense and… there she went. Another runner. Why did they always run? In a straight line, nonetheless, he thought pitifully, picking up a rather hefty rock and pummeling it in her direction. He wasn’t the best shot but the rock was big enough to successfully hit her, making a delightful sound against her skull as he started the pursuit. 

“Come on, we were just starting to get to know each other,” he chided, grabbing at her arm once he closed in and quickly assessing her for weapons. Something heavy rested in her jacket pocket. The arm was twisted up behind her back as he pulled her flush against him, giving Owen space to reach into the pocket for the knife. “This is nice.”

________

There was a sudden, blinding pain that blossomed behind her eyes. A pained noise rang out and she stumbled, tripping over a headstone that interrupted her path. The world was spinning and Sofie hurried to get her bearings. She went to get to her feet when a hand closed around her arm, wrenching her back.

No, no, no, no.

The vampire struggled, trying to yank her arm out of the strong grip. Her arm twisted and she yelped in pain as his hand dipped into her pocket. Her eyes flashed red as he took her knife. No point in hiding it now. She lashed out with her free arm, trying to scratch at him, or grab for Cassius’s knife. She wasn’t sure which- whatever her hand could gain purchase on. “Let me go!” Sofie hissed. 

_______

Every struggle from the vampire caused a tighter grip, putting an unnecessary amount of strain on her shoulder. Amid her struggling, Owen caught the flash of red eyes. There she was. Her free arm was flailing and clearly, no one had taken it upon themselves to teach this poor woman how to fight. Either she was young or just old and dumb. “Where would be the fun in that?” he hissed back, mouth close to her ear, intent on riling her up further. Maybe she had one good punch in her. 

Shifting his weight, Owen finished what he’d started with her arm, giving an assertive tug and being rewarded with the sound of a pop as he shoulder dislocated. He let go, or more so shoved her away, taking a moment to regard the switch blade in his hand before popping it open. “Not bad. Might keep it, if you don’t mind.”

______

Sofie screamed in pain. Her arm hung limply by her side, her shoulder screaming in protest. She skittered backward in the grass, swearing as her back hit a grave. Trapped. She was trapped. She forced herself to breathe, to think, like Metzli had taught her. She drew a ragged breath into her chest as she stared at him like a cornered animal. Think Zofia.

She watched as he opened the knife. Might keep it. A pulse of anger went through her. That was hers. It was the only thing she had of Cassius’s, and she would keep that piece of him. Red eyes assessed the situation, and she decided to move. Keeping herself low, she launched herself at him in an attempt to knock him off balance.

_____________

It wasn’t a complete surprise when the vampire launched but still unexpected, and fast, enough that she caught Owen’s legs. Obviously he didn’t mind, having been riling her up for this exact reason, now figuring that the knife in his hand was something special. Good. Might mean she wouldn’t run away without it. She managed to throw him off balance for a second but not quite enough to get him to the ground, feet only stumbling back a few steps. “Oh, you do mind?” 

Tossing the knife onto the grass behind him, Owen dragged his own from the pocket of his jacket, unsheathing the fairly small but very sharp knife. “Come and get it, then.” It was always a risky game, toying with vampires until they snapped, like the one in front of him seemed on the verge of being. But being confronted with the murderous nature of what they really were, all snarling fangs and blood red eyes, always made the kill feel that much easier. No, better. 

________

He stumbled back, and her own momentum sending her falling forward into the dirt. She hissed as she landed, her dislocated arm hitting the ground hard. Think Zofia. Think! It was a refrain in her head. Whether it was a victory song or a death march, only time would tell. Sofie watched the switchblade fall to the earth, the only hint of it a glimmer in the moonlight. 

Sofie knew the game he was playing at. Or at least, she thought she did. He’d lure her in with the promise of her blade, then strike. But what other choice did she have? Shame gripped her as she ran her tongue over sharpened fangs. Some monster you are, you can’t even fight for yourself. But that’s what he so clearly wanted, wasn’t it? A monster? Fear turned to shame turned to anger, boiling hot. Red eyes glinted. There’s no point in going down without a fight. 

She pushed herself up off the ground before kicking at his knees, and lunging for his throat. 

_________

There it was. The change was something Owen could almost taste in the air, the moment she decided to fight for her pathetic non-life. He appreciated the trying, it was so much better than the begging. A shift of his stance made the kick hit his thigh, a nice contact that would definitely bruise but spared his knee. The bared fangs were coming in hot, clearly heading for the most vulnerable part of him, which was a big no-no. 

He raised his arm instead, a second before the sharp teeth descended, sinking into his forearm instead. It would take a moment for the stupid monster to realize just what happened when you attempted to bite a slayer so Owen decided to ease her into that pain, knife finding itself deeply buried into the side of her stomach. “Bad idea, sweetheart.”

_______

Sofie was an old creature, and with age she had learned a great many things. 

However, there were also a great many things that she didn’t know. 

The DuPont’s had never been particularly keen on biting, at least, not in Sofie’s experience. As such, she never really thought about it, and it was never really discussed. Similarly with slayers, they were never really a problem, so they weren’t discussed at great length. Sofie knew to avoid them, and knew they spelled death, and not the kind of death she could come back from. What she didn’t know, was that their blood was different.

Sharp fangs cut through soft flesh, and blood spilled across Sofie’s tongue. It was like drinking liquid fire, and it burned. She spat his arm out, and was about to go for the dagger when cold steel embedded itself into her side. She curled in on herself, a choked gag of a scream fighting it’s way out of her. She had to get away. Sofie tried to push him away, pulling herself away from him and toward the switchblade that seemed to be her only hope, glinting in the moonlight feet away.

___________

The faint sting in his arm was nothing compared to the pure look of horror in the vampire’s eyes as she realized just how hopeless this was. Sure, running away wouldn’t have made things much better and Owen definitely thought it merited some appreciation that she’d at least tried. She was scrambling, still going for that damn knife and it had obviously been gifted by someone special, which made Owen all the more determined to rid her off the knife. What a stupid thing to die for. 

With a soft shake of his head, a mock expression of pity plastered on with it, Owen pulled out his stake. “Decent hustle.” Lean fingers wrapped around the wood, tall frame looming over the vampire. “Hey!” The voice was close but human, his senses told him, but the sudden distraction was still enough to snap him out of the moment for a second, head whipping around to find the source. 

______

She managed to get herself there, to close her hand around the cold metal of the blade, and she was ready to sob with relief. She turned back and saw the sharpened piece of wood in his and, and Sofie’s relief turned into a horrified cry. She prayed this wasn’t how Seraphine had met her end. Pitiful and failing to fight for her own existence. She prayed this wasn’t the fate that had befallen the very vampire she’d been walking through the cemetery to look for. 

And then a voice called out, and the slayer turned away.

Sofie didn’t allow herself time to think. She launched herself up, gritting her teeth through the pain, and dug the blade into the slayer’s side. As quickly as she struck, she was running. Running as fast as she could, fighting through the pain in her side and her arm, disappearing into the night

[itzbridiebitch]

That sounds like a future Bridie problem. So you should come out because I am lots of fun, and you know that is a certifiable fact.

You know, you really shouldn't get into the habit of paying people to hang out at the club. Gonna go broke real fast that way.

[itzbridiebitch]

@apaininyourneck replied: [pm] I'll put it in quotes if I want to. Yes, bait. For vampires.

[pm] I’m not a joke Owen oh

[pm] would it be safe? And just to clarify, you are or are not cashing in your fae bargain with this ask?

[itzbridiebitch]

[pm] Not saying I want to cash in my "magical" favour but if you want to be useful, I could use some bait.

[pm] don’t put magical in quotes, I am magically contractually obligated to one favor.

[pm] bait?

[itzbridiebitch]

Uhhhh the immense pleasure of my company. Duh.

Plus I’ll comp your cover charge. And share my sour gummy worms.

Starting to feel like a sugar baby. Don't hate it.

What else do I get in exchange for the immense pleasure of my company?

[itzbridiebitch]

Did I say decrepit old man? Noooo, no no. I meant young, strong, full of life, and ready to party. A veritable party animal. You should come to the club instead of the other boring bars that are way less fun.

Guess this decrepit old man will have to find someplace else to get drinks then. Wouldn't want to bring down the vibes.

[itzbridiebitch]

Which is code for "I'm an ancient decrepit old man who likes boring things like after dinner mints and werthers caramels". Got it. Good thing you make friends with people like me to keep you young at heart.

Yes, liking sour candies is very original. See, as an adult man, I don't have a favorite candy.

[itzbridiebitch]

What can I say, I'm a candy connoisseur. Sorry I don't eat werther's originals or whatever not sour candy it you enjoy.

Wow, right for the jugular. How could you?

[itzbridiebitch]

More sour gummy worms for me, babycakes. I'm not gonna complain because you have shit taste in candy.

Cause you won't share your candy? Don't care. We share other way more interesting stuff.

[itzbridiebitch]

You’re just jealous cuz I won’t share babes.

Yes, very much so.

[itzbridiebitch]

I'm sorry, do you have a problem with my codependency on sour patch kids?

Sour candies? Come on.

[itzbridiebitch]

Whaaaat?! Psssh nooo. Couldn’t be. By the way, I’m bored and you’re not boring. You should come out tonight. I’ll comp your drinks again cuz I’m so nice <3

Wow, if you hadn't just complained about how empty the club is, I'd start to think you were stroking my ego because you actually like having me around.