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emma-nation · 6 years ago

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Without You - Bloodbound AU (Chapter 9) *For You Sequel*

Summary: Gaius is back. While coming up with a plan to take him down, the gang must deal with some new life-changing events.

Genre: Angst/Adventure/Romance

Rating: T - Warning for violence and language

Tag List: @begging-for-kamilah, @lulu-the-cat, @ilovekamilahsayeed, @zoe6111, @kennaxval (If you want to be tagged in future chapters/fics of this pairing let me know!)

Notes:

- English is my second language, please forgive me for any mistakes.

- Hope you enjoy it, your reviews and likes are always appreciated.

- Things have went as planned again this week, so here’s another regular update for ya :)

- Slight MxF Smut Scene Warning in the Flashback session! If you’re not interested, you can just skip this part without affecting the understanding of the chapter.

- FxF Smut Alert!

Lysimachus

About thirty minutes earlier they were driving back home, in complete silence. A lot of thoughts and feelings consuming his mind. Never, in his 2064 years of life, he had seen a Vampire survive a Feral bite. It was an extremely painful death. Back on his days as a Vampire Hunter, he even extracted Feral's blood and injected it on Vampires, infecting them and watching as they went through the gruesome transformation, before killing them. It was one of his favorite torture methods.

When they entered his apartment, Priya gently grabbed his arm.

"It was nothing," she assured. "The bite was superficial, I'm not feeling a thing."

Lysimachus turned around to look into her dark brown eyes, for the first time since he spotted the wound on her shoulder. She was stunning, truly stunning. He still remembered seeing her on TV or magazines, prior their meeting. Or how Zoe would always grumble about never being able to afford a Lacroix outfit. He never cared. The Fashion world wasn't his thing. While he appreciated being well-dressed, the brands of his clothes never mattered, as long as they made him look sharp.

Until somebody, sold him the information Priya Lacroix was part of the infamous Council of New York. The one group who could lead him to Gaius. For months he studied the Fashion Designer, following her steps on social media, until her VIP party in Amsterdam.

----- Flashback (slight smut, feel free to skip it) -----

"Show me what you got," she ordered him to remove every piece of clothing he was wearing. He learned she was so selective with potential houseboys as she was selective with her models.

Following her command, Lysimachus was completely naked in front of her. She walked around him, examining his body features.

"Hmmm, not very tall... Only 5'8". But..." she dragged her nails on his toned abdomen. "You've got a nice pack here."

Then she went behind him, grabbing his buttocks.

"And here too."

Finally, she stopped in front of him, looking down at his crotch. She grinned.

"Interesting... I'd like to see it on full-mode, if you don't mind."

"Being around you, it won't be a problem."

After showing her what she wanted to see, he had passed on another step of her test. But as he was informed, there was still a lot he’d have to prove to earn her approval.

"Please yourself," she demanded.

"As you wish."

She watched him with arms crossed, head cocked to the side. The manner he pleased himself and the amount of time he was taking to finish made a hint of satisfaction appear in her face.

"Stop."

"Make me," he teased, knowing her tastes.

She slapped him hard on the face and grabbed his hair violently, making him face her.

"One final step, and you're mine."

With one move, she completely teared off her clothes.

"You better give me the good stuff... or..."

"Or?"

She approached, whispering in his ear.

"I'll kill you."

After extensive hours of rough, wild sex, he managed to impress her. No mortal could ever give her that experience. She had found someone of her level, of her tastes... she only didn't know he was a Vampire yet. Or a Vampire Hunter. But she was very close from finding out... Lysimachus smirked, as his eyes turned red and he exposed his fangs, ready to drink Priya's blood completely.

----- Flashback Ending -----

That was 8 months before. In that period a lot had changed, especially recently, after knowing who she truly was. In front of him he could no longer see a wicked Vampire, but a broken girl. Who had been abused and humiliated, trying to heal her wounds through revenge. Giving men and women the same treatment she received. Deep down, she desired to be respected. And loved too.

He forced a smile, knowing what she was saying wasn't true. The bite went deep down her flesh. At this point the infection must be going through her veins, and soon, it'd reach her brain.

"I mean it, Hunter. I just need to feed and this thing will be healed," she insisted, reaching her purse. "I'm gonna find someone on Bleeder and..."

That was the last thing she said before collapsing. On the floor, her body started twitching on a strange manner. Her veins becoming more visible and her skin more pale.

"Priya!" He shouted, kneeling beside her and holding her in his arms. It was happening. She was becoming a Feral. "S-Stay with me. Talk to me... You need to stay conscious..."

He took her to his bed, placing her comfortably on his pillows.

"T-Tell me something about you... like, uhhh... when is your birthday?"

Through the excruciating pain she was feeling, she still managed to give him a small laugh.

"Why does it matter, Hunter?"

"Because... we'll throw you the hell of a party."

"November 6th," she answered. "But... it's 8 months from now... I-I won't make it."

"Of course you will!" Lysimachus held her face with one hand, while the other grabbed her cold, shaking hand. "I-I... I know a lot about magic and there's a cure for this. I'm gonna call my witch friend and soon you will be... snatching wigs again."

Priya fought a smile.

After feeding her a blood bag he had stocked on a freezer, he gave her a strong shot of painkillers and tranquilizers. Before falling asleep, Priya noticed a stake attached to his belt.

"Just do it, Hunter. Please let me die decently, gorgeous as I am. I don't wanna turn into a disgusting Feral."

"Hey," Lysimachus stroked her soft hair, before lying next to her, "that one was for the Vampires attacking your club, not for you. Why don't you rest now? I called my friend and she's on her way. We'll save you, I promise."

It was a lie, he knew, but she needed to feel secure, while he was willing to try everything, until the last moment. Killing Priya was not an option. Not right now.

With barely no more strength or control left, she squeezed his hand.

"I... trust... you..."

----------

Kamilah

Kamilah had been locked in her home office for a while. She had a need of being alone. The first, but not her main concern, was Amy coming home late night, and drunk, after a night of fun with Lily and Jax. That wouldn’t have been a problem under another circumstances, but at that moment she needed to stay out of sight. Gaius had thralls observing each one of the clans and with that, he could easily figure out she was back from London.

Her main concern was Lysimachus. After driving straight to Priya’s club and not finding them, she headed back to her penthouse, where she started receiving multiple phone calls and texts from her brother. He was desperate for her help. Something had went terribly wrong.

Answer me, please. I can’t lose two people I care about in the same night.

While she didn’t care for Priya’s life, she felt extremely guilty. Accidentally, she had told Gaius’ about her relationship with Lysimachus. Her brother had fallen in love, and being alive for over two millennia is more than enough to figure out that love is a weakness, that makes you vulnerable and fragile.

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts.

“May I come in?” Amy asked. “Please.”

Kamilah sighed and unlocked the door. Her fiancée came in, wearing a casual outfit after a cold shower, that helped to return to a more sober state of mind.

“I’m so sorry, Kamilah. I was bored and... I messed up, didn’t I?”

She took a deep breath, taking a moment to answer.

“Not as much as I did.”

“Why? You scolded me so much that I hadn’t even time to ask. How did the meeting go? Did Gaius do anything to you?”

“To me, no. But...”

She lowered her eyes, avoiding Amy’s gaze while she told her everything. Gaius’ plans for The Council members, Lysimachus reaction upon the attack to The Crimson Veil, her anger and finally, the possibly tragic outcome.

“Oh,” Amy looked somehow shocked. “Have you checked on them yet?”

“No,” Kamilah told. “How am I supposed to tell my brother I was responsible for whatever happened to Priya? She’s a heartless monster, Amy. But he cares about her, for some reason.”

“We should drop by his apartment. That’s the right thing to do.”

Kamilah agreed with a firm nod. Amy’s strength and confidence during moments of crisis impressed her sometimes. How could a mortal be so young and yet so decided and wise?

Minutes later she was sitting at her brother’s office, while he desperately put off books and papers from shelves and drawers, looking for anything that could prevent Priya from turning Feral.

“Brother,” she gulped. “I know you’ve spent a long time around witches but... I’ve never seen a Vampire that healed from a Feral bite.”

“We couldn’t go out in sunlight too, remember? Now we can. Because of Priya.”

Frustrated, he threw a chair against the wall, smashing it into a thousand pieces.

“There’s got to be something...”

“Even if it does, at this point her entire body is infected! She’s a risk to all of us!”

“What do you suggest then, Kamilah?” Lysimachus slammed his fist on the table. “That I enter that bedroom and stake her while she’s asleep? Wasn’t it the same that they did to your lover back in Italy? How did that feel, huh? How do you think she felt, when you weren’t able to protect her?”

The words hit her straight in the heart. She hadn’t though about that event for a while, but it was definitely a scar she carried. She never had time to protect her, to tell how much she loved her, or even say goodbye. While she opened her mouth to say something the bell rang and Lysimachus returned, accompanied by the young witch that provided them the rings.

Kamilah left them alone in the office, joining Amy at the living room. The girl held her hand in a comforting manner.

“It’s not your fault,” she said. “He’d have done it sooner or later.”

“I know. Gaius isn’t the kind that quits and my brother isn’t either. Lysimachus always thought he could save the entire world and that’s what got him in prison.”

Suddenly Kamilah noticed the looks of Lysimachus and the witch were at their direction. She furrowed her brows as she detected the last few words of their conversation.

“...maybe her blood could help.”

Lysimachus approached, dragging Amy by the arm.

“Amy, I need a favor,” he pulled a dagger from his pocket. “I need you to feed Priya some blood.”

“No,” Kamilah protested. “You’re not dragging my fiancée into this! She’s not even herself anymore. She could lose control and kill Amy.”

“Come on, Kamilah. It’s her only chance! Being The First Vampire’s descendant, Amy’s blood has powerful properties. She could save Priya.”

Kamilah pulled Amy back to her direction by the other arm.

“Guys,” Amy tried to settle things between them. “Why don’t we sit down and discuss our options?”

“Discuss our options?!” Kamilah shouted. “You’re not risking your life for a mistake I did.”

“Excuse me?!” Lysimachus questioned. “It seems like you have something to share, sister.”

“It’s my fault. I accidentally told Gaius’ about you and Priya. He was furious when you prevented the explosion and used it to get a revenge on you.”

Her twin brother was completely mute for a second. Then he looked at her in a way she had never seen before... there was fire in his eyes.

“Y-You... betrayed me.”

“I had no intentions, brother. I’m so sorry, he wanted information about you and this was the less important thing I could think of.”

“Less important?” Lysimachus let a sarcastic laugh. “Less important for who?! You know what? Do you know why we’re in this mess in first place? Because I gave up on the ritual. I gave up on the ritual because in order to kill Gaius we must kill Amy too. I protected your lover Kamilah, meanwhile you sacrificed mine for your selfish purposes!”

He punched the wall, opening a large hole on it before heading to the bedroom.

Kamilah sat down again, processing the words she had just heard.

----------

Amy

At the balcony, Amy breath in some fresh air, still undecided about what to do. She had no problem offering a small amount of blood to feed Priya, as Lysimachus wanted, but would that be enough? Kamilah also had a point, she was about to turn Feral. She could easily lose control and kill her.

And there was the ritual. To destroy Gaius, she’d have to sacrifice her own life.

“It seems like you’re carrying a lot on your shoulders,” the young witch appeared right beside her.

“Oh, trust me. Only a year ago I was only a small-town girl, who wanted to come to New York, get a decent job and enjoy life. Now, I'm engaged to one of the most powerful CEOs of the country, who's a Vampire and the fate of their race, and also the human race, depends on me."

"No evil doppelgänger yet?"

"To be honest I wouldn't be surprised if she just appeared at my door."

Amy laughed at their joke, breaking a little the tension of the moment. The witch girl was about her age, they could've been hanging out, going to a club or to a theater together, but they were both dealing with the supernatural.

"So what's your story?" Amy asked.

"As exciting as yours," the witch answered. "Grew up in an orphanage, got separated from my brother, messed with some dark forces to find him... Anyways, I decided to settle down at New York just doing the witch stuff, you know?"

Amy smiled again. Even with such a tragic past, that girl was able to keep a good humor.

"So, you know about the ritual. The one to destroy Gaius."

"Sorry, I tried my best to protect you when I discovered. This is what I promised my ancestors. But your friends are good at finding out stuff."

"Do I really have to..."

She nodded in response.

"Amy, do you want to hear an advice? Get debriefed, go away. Runaway from this world while you still can. If the information about your origins fall in the wrong hands, they'll start a war for your blood."

"I can't, I love Kamilah. More than I ever loved anyone in my life."

"But someday, you'll die. Kamilah won't. And she'll possibly find another Amy to love. Think about it."

Amy fell silent again, thinking about her words. She though about her family, her hometown, her old life and then... Kamilah. She was everything she ever wished for. The danger, the adventure, the passion she always looked for, she found in the female vampire.

"She's getting worse," Lysimachus scream echoed through the apartment. "Will you all just going to let her die?"

"I'll do it," Amy announced. "I'll feed her some of my blood."

"Have you lost all sense?" Kamilah followed her to the bedroom. "She's going to..."

When she opened the door, Priya was tied to the bed. Her eyes were blood-red and she was hissing loud. The only few words she was able to pronounce were senseless.

"She's losing her conscience," Kamilah told.

"Not if I can stop it," Lysimachus argued.

Amy grabbed his dagger, opening a gash on her palm and dripping some blood inside a glass. She handed it to Lysimachus who forced Priya to drink it. Surprisingly, the Fashion Designer eyes returned to their normal color and she calmed down.

"Hello friend with benefits," Lysimachus caressed her hair.

"Only... the... b... ben... benefits," Priya joked, making him smile.

"Feeling any better?"

She shook her head in denial, for his disappointment.

"S-Slipping... again... want... want to... kill... you."

Frustrated, the former Vampire Hunter punched the wall again.

"Just... do it."

Amy shared a look with Kamilah. Her fiancée had been completely closed down since learning about the ritual.

The young witch also watched the scene, with a puzzled look.

"She doesn't have a Brand, does she?" She asked.

"No," Lysimachus told. "She doesn't even know who's her Maker."

"The Brand is meant to keep the conscience tethered to the body. Maybe if we gave her one, infused by the blood of an older vampire..."

"I'll do it," Kamilah agreed. "It's my fault she's dying so..." she pulled her amulet and a lighter from her jacket.

"Noooo," Priya weakly whined. "Not... Kamilah's... tramp stamp..."

"Shut up! I'm trying to save your life."

"Wait," the female witch ordered. "I have a better idea. Seal the Brand with Amy's blood. Nothing is more powerful than The First Vampire's blood."

----------

Kamilah

Kamilah was browsing on her computer when Amy entered her dark office. After Branding Priya, she had gone home. The life of the Fashion Designer wasn't her priority right now, Amy's life was.

If Lysimachus was telling the truth about the ritual, she needed to act immediately. No one would sacrifice her wife-to-be, even for such a big purpose like destroying Gaius.

"How's Priya?" She asked, trying to show some sympathy.

"She has stopped losing her conscience, but the bite isn't healing. It has started to spread," Amy told. "I'm not sure if she's gonna make it. I wish I could do something more."

"Well, don't even say it in front of my brother. If he hears that, he may want to..." she stopped. "Nevermind."

Amy approached, sitting on her lap. She studied her computer screen, curious.

"Uhhh... Is that where you're planning to spend our honeymoon?"

"It's a house I own in Sweden. I've got it in a big deal I closed a few years ago. I was thinking it's a perfect place to start a new life, don't you think?"

"Do you mean... move to Sweden?"

"It's a small town. No one will ever find us. I have contacts, they'll give us new IDs and..."

"It's about the ritual, isn't it?"

Amy stared inside her eyes, Kamilah could see she was so lost and scared as she was.

"We're not doing it," she pressed her forehead on Amy's. "Never."

"But..." Amy placed a hand on the back of her neck, "it'd set you free."

"I'll never be free without you."

Kamilah pressed her lips on Amy's, kissing her slowly, while her fingers gently stoked the girl’s side.

"This is why we have to runaway. If the rest of The Council finds out... they'll come for you.

"I have another idea in mind."

Amy kissed her again, fiercely, firmly. With a force she hadn't felt ever before. She finished it by nibbling on her lower lip.

"Turn me," she whispered in Kamilah's ear. "Turn me right now. I'll become useless to the ritual and... I'll be yours forever."

"It's not that simple. Gaius would still come after you. And there's a lot you need to consider. What about your family? You won't be able to be so close to them anymore."

"I don't care..." Amy brushed her lips on hers again. "You're my family now."

"And you won't be able to have children."

"I can adopt."

"You..." Amy silenced her with her index finger.

"No more excuses, Kamilah. I give up on anything to spend the eternity with you."

"Eternity is a long time, are you aware of this?"

"Yeah..." Amy pretended to be pensive for a second. "But I think I can tolerate your temper and your cynicism for the eternity."

"In this case, I better work harder. Tolerating your insatiable hunger and your habit of losing stuff for the eternity may be expensive."

Amy laughed before pulling her for another kiss.

"I love when you try to be funny."

"Well, you started it."

The girls hand went under her shirt, feeling every inch of her stomach and chest.

"I was so afraid I wouldn't see you again," she spoke smoothly as her hands went down to Kamilah's pants, unbuttoning them.

"I feared Gaius had killed or even hypnotized you for real," Amy's mouth went down to her jawline and neck, while her hands traveled inside Kamilah's underwear. "Seriously, I even..."

"Amy," Kamilah interrupted her, rolling her eyes. "Can you not say his name while... doing this?"

"Of course," Amy apologized. "I'm sorry."

Kamilah closed her eyes, enjoying Amy's strokes on her most sensitive spot. She moved her hips, following the girl’s movements.

When she arched her back, finally reaching climax, she whispered in Amy's ear.

"This weekend... at the Hamptons' house. I'll prepare everything and... I'm Turning you."

----------

Amy

Lying on the bed with Kamilah, Amy grinned ear to ear. Being Turned and running away with her fiancée solved all their problems. Being biologically dead, she'd no longer be The One. Her blood would lose all its power. And also... she'd never have to leave Kamilah.

"Tell me about that Bachelorette Party," Kamilah broke the silence. "I'm not very fond of this idea."

"Oh, no big deal. Lily took me to this Strip club, full of hot guys and girls. Even Jax gave us a private little show inside the limo."

As Kamilah widened her eyes in shock then furrowed her brows, as if she was ready to explode.

"I'm joking," Amy quickly announced. "Only a few drinks among friends in a cool supernatural bar."

"Which one?" Kamilah wanted to know. "I know every supernatural bar in New York and none of them is safe for you."

"It's a new one. Founded by one of the Shadow Den members."

Kamilah didn't answer, but by her face, she still didn't approve the idea.

��Right,” Amy changed the subject, “now, what about that meeting? You still haven’t told me everything. There's something else in your mind."

Kamilah let out a deep sigh, that suggested something else was disturbing her.

"Hearing his revenge plans, the things he's planning for The Council members... makes me wonder what he's planning for me."

"Didn't you earn his trust again?"

"I know him, Amy. He would never forgive me for what I did. He's saving the worst for me, and he must be planning to use you or my brother for that."

Amy was pensive for a moment, then she grabbed a notebook and a pen from the nightstand drawer.

"What are you doing? Kamilah looked at her intrigued.

"Our own plan," Amy started explaining. "We have a head-start, you know what he's planning."

"A conflict between me and my brother was exactly what he needed. I’ve just made things easier for him, now I’m not in good terms with Lysimachus. God knows what stupidity he’ll be doing after Priya dies. "

"Okay..." Amy wrote Lysimachus name and pulled some arrows. "We need to ensue his protection."

Kamilah smiled and took off the pen from her hands.

"Let me take care of it, would you? You stay put, while I handle the tough part."

Amy pulled her by the shirt collar for a kiss.

"But I had a good idea... We can get some explosives, blow up that club and send Gaius, Jameson and the whole gang to space."

"You've been watching too much news on TV, little firefly," Kamilah playfully bit her earlobe, then pressed soft kisses on her neck. "Don't worry, I've got everything planned."

Kamilah grabbed her notebook and started writing her own notes. She had the prettiest handwriting Amy had ever seen in her life. She read the first word: 'Turning'. She smiled.

The female vampire proceeded with the next step of her planning sheet.

"Training," Amy read. "And then... Elope?"

"And the last..." Kamilah added, "Sweden."

Amy took the notes and started to adding some details.

"Right, Ms. Sayeed, CEO of Ahmanet Financial. What will be doing to this little company of yours?"

"I'll sell it," Kamilah was decided. "I can start something new. Something related to botany, perhaps."

"Will we have pets in our new home?" Amy asked.

"Cats. Many of them."

"Uhhh... children?"

"It's too soon to decide it, don't you think?"

"Hell yeah," Amy tossed the notepad aside. "We have a lot to enjoy before that."

Kamilah smiled before involving her in a warm, passionate kiss. Meanwhile, all Amy could think was about how excited she was for the weekend, when she'd become a Vampire.

----------

Lysimachus

"It has stopped spreading," he announced, examining Priya's wound. "It seems like Amy's blood has truly worked."

Lying on his chest, the Fashion Designer gave him a weak smile. Though she was no longer losing conscience or that the wound had stopped spreading, she wasn't looking any better. She was severely weak and pale, her skin was cold as ice. Lysimachus wore his leather jacket around her body and covered her with a heavy blanket.

"Hunter, stop fooling yourself," she mumbled. "It's not working. I'm dying... I... I wonder what the tabloids will invent. They'll say I died from an overdose probably."

"I-I won't let them... I'll say you contracted a severe and deadly infection, and that you fought like a trooper until the end."

At this point, he was holding himself to not cry. He hadn't cried for centuries. Not even when Zoe died. Although she was his best and closest friend, he knew about that risk. She was a mortal Vampire Hunter. Her life was always in danger. And he didn't watch her die. He didn't have to say goodbye. One move and Adrian broke her neck, far from his sight. Because he was busy, chasing Priya.

"Hey," he called, trying to keep her awake. "Last year, in your club, why didn't you kill me when you had the chance?"

"You're a bastard, like me, Hunter. I knew that at some point you could be useful."

"Fair enough."

"What about you?" Priya asked back. "That night in Amsterdam, why didn't you kill me?"

Lysimachus sighed.

"I knew that at some point you could be useful. And because I thought you were pretty."

"Oh, so you had mercy on pretty female Vampires?

"You were one of the rare exceptions."

She let out a small, weak laugh.

After a long moment of silence, Lysimachus felt her hand touching his under the covers.

"Hunter?" She called. "I'm afraid. Though it's something I'd never admit, but I am."

"Y-You don't have to be," he wanted to tell her that soon she'd be cured, but at this point, both of them knew it was useless to sugarcoat reality.

"What do you think that happens to Vampires after their death? Especially the baddies."

"I've never thought of this before."

"My people believe in reincarnation. This is what I'm afraid of, I don't wanna be born a dalit again."

"If you do," he kissed her forehead, "I'll find you and I'll rescue you."

"How are you going to find me, stupid?"

"Simple, I'll look for the girl who can make awesome clothes and snatch wigs."

Seeing Priya genuinely smile again made a single tear fall down from his eyes. He noticed her eyes were teary too.

"We never finished that conversation."

"We don't have to."

"Okay... at least I figured out what was missing."

He held her even tighter, appreciating his final moments with her. Thinking about the life he was willing to show her. A life she never knew... A knock on the door brought him back to reality.

"Lysimachus," his witch friend shouted, "I know why she hasn't been fully cured yet! There's one more thing."

"What is it?"

"I was speaking to Jax and he told me that feeding from someone that the Vampire has an emotional connection may help delaying the transformation."

"Goodbye, cruel world," Priya mocked from the bed.

After the witch left, Lysimachus sat by her side.

"No one?" He sighed. "Not even... Sergio?"

"Sergio, Hunter?!" Priya rolled her eyes. "Are you joking or you're really this dumb?"

"I know," he ran a hand through his dark hair. "I'm only trying to think of a manner to save you. I meant it when I said I care about you."

Priya studied his face for a second, before inhaling deeply.

"If you ever tell this anyone, I'll kill you."

She sank her fangs into his neck, drawing a large amount of blood, for long minutes.

Lysimachus wasn't sure of how much of that was real, but his only choice was to wait and pray that Priya's body would fight off the infection by itself.

Next: Kamilah takes Amy to the Hamptons to Turn her, but will things go as expected? Stay tuned!

#playchoices #choices stories you play #bloodbound #kamilah sayeed #kamilah x mc #bloodbound fanfiction #priya lacroix #lysimachus

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ladygloucester · 7 years ago

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Scáthach - Chapter 1

Well guys, I think this is probably my most personal work ever. I know it will sound quite outlandish (ha.) and even feel Claire and Jamie out of character. One thing I love about fanfic writing is that I feel so comfortable with these characters that I feel like I can bend them in ways I wouldn’t be able to do with others I created from scratch. So apologies if this is too far from what you like to see.

Watch out for language, triggers and all that stuff.

Prologue

I won’t go all David Copperfield on you. I consider you smart enough to recognize that if I’m here, talking to you, I might as well have been born in order to do so. What a presumptuous prick, that David. Anyway. Even though I’ve gone through basically the same stages of life as any other human being, I can’t say that I consider myself so. Not fully, at least. I’m what we call a Scáthach. Yeah, pretty much as the celtic deity, we’re that very original. Calling myself a warrior woman in the middle of the XXI century will sound… well, probably as presumptuous as our friend David. But it’s the truth. I am a warrior indeed, one that fights shit you wouldn’t even imagine before I told you so.

I won’t bother you with the same boring pest I had to deal with when they first approached me. You’ll thank me for that later. But the thing is, a Scáthach is pretty much what whoever that has ever played a video game, read a fantasy novel or watched a tv show would call a demon hunter. Well, demon falls actually a bit short. There are all kinds of disgusting beings, if you may call them so, in the Dubnos, but for anyone that’s not familiar with the hierarchies and classifications of the The Deep, we can stick with that. Demon.

I can hear you rolling your eyes so hard at me. I understand it. I used to think this was all bullshit. But well, I’ve had enough of my share of experiences —and whisky— to quiet my skepticism. But I’ll help you swallow this rather thick pill. Have you ever realized your friend, your coworker, even your neighbor is suddenly behaving completely out of character? Have you heard of those people that change their lives in the blink of an eye, turning it upside down and destroying themselves in the process? Have you even felt it? That unforeseen sting of desperation in the bottom of your heart when everything seems to be going perfectly well. That fit of lust that drives you into the arms of another person while your partner is happily waiting for you at home. That outburst of anger that pushes your feet on the gas pedal, terrorizing every other driver in the highway.

I thought so.

Science tries to give it an explanation. A man suddenly murders his entire family while his friends can’t understand how the loveliest of fathers would stab the love of his life to death. Psychiatrists say he had an underlying disorder. One nobody ever noticed. Not a single action in his behavior ever betrayed it. And yet, we all swallow it down, nod and thank God and pray that science will save us all. Put a tag on our diseases and magically cure them.

If only it was possible. I wouldn’t be here.

That is the doing of a demon, clever enough to make us believe that our brains would do that to ourselves, defying millions of years of evolution and self-preserving instincts. They find a way to sneak up on us and infect us. Of course there are people depressed. Angry people. People obsessed with others. Demons are not the cause of every single evil in the world, illogical as it may sound. But those unexpected explosions that ultimately breaks the person that feels them, of those they are responsible. Don’t fool yourself.

So I take care of them. That’s what I do for a living. Well, not out in the open, that’s for sure. In “real life” I volunteer at The Royal London Hospital. It’s most convenient to have access to quick meds and professionals when you work in a field like mine. But not for me, I… well, my body behaves slightly differently. Which is an advantage, you’ll see. Whenever I’m free and I have the time, I drop by the hospital and take a quick look to see if they need a hand. They once tried to put me on a schedule. It took them a couple of days to realize it wasn’t going to work, so since I’m nice and useful, they usually let me do my thing without making much of a fuss.

So far, I’ve told you about (a bit of) my job, my other job and what I am. But I haven’t told you my name yet.

I’m Claire.

And I’m alone.

Not that I care. I mean, it would be nice to have someone to have a Sunday lunch with, but it won’t keep me awake at night. Not most of the nights, at least. I’ve never been one to have many friends. Mainly because my line of work is an unpredictable one. People use to get tired of you when you cancel dates and plans more often than you make it.

Ok, now wait a second�� I’m painting a fairly sociopathic image of myself. I may not win Miss Congeniality this year, but I’m not a bad person. Well, I wouldn’t say that I qualify as a person either, but you get what I mean. I do this to help others that can’t help themselves. So I think that should give me a few points.

Are we clear then? I slay demons, people live to see another day and I go home all by myself. Again, most of the nights.

The day it all changed I was about to leave the hospital after a short shift helping around, wheeling some elderly patients around and trying to crack them up with my stupid jokes. I loved to hear them laugh with their shot voices, always reprimanding me for being too crude. I know it’s a weird hobby, getting a chuckle out of those old crocks, but I guess it’s one of the quirks of being an orphan, unable to joke around with your own folks. Yay me. When my cellphone beeped, I snuck it out of my black jeans and checked it.

Frank. Shit.

“Tell me.”

“Hi Claire, how’s your—”

“Cut the crap. What is it?“ I demanded as I walked into a nearby alley. The sun was already setting and I knew I’d be in need of a dark, secluded place to open the Membrane sooner rather than later. Oh, wait. The Membrane, haven’t told you about that yet, have I? Well, just let me get through with this asshole.

“Ok,” the voice came through the speaker colder and snarky. “There’s a situation. You need to cross and take care of a deamhan that has found an weak spot in the Membrane. There’s a human involve, but don’t care about it. We’re already counting him as a hero.”

A hero. Yeah, they were hypocritical enough to give that name to the humans that died as a result of an unexpected encounter with a deamhan. Sometimes we were late and there was nothing we could do. Other times, fewer, I got orders to leave them be. Very ethical.

“Ok, show me.”

I hung up and closed my eyes. The image began to solidify in the back of my mind, slowly adding detail, color, texture, even smell. Well, stink. Even a foul taste flooded my mouth. I got it. Let me tell you about the Membrane, quick and dirty. In order to cross to the Dubnos, The Deep, if you prefer, you don’t have to pay the boatman to sail through the Styx lagoon. Though it would be pretty cool. No, between our two worlds there is a separation, a physical barrier that only a few of us can cross. The Membrane, that’s it. It works like an osmosis process. There’s part of you that stays back in the world of the living, and another that’s able to pass through. The Dubnos is restricted to the demons. So… yeah, you guessed right. I’m part demon myself. That’s why I can cross the Membrane back and forth, and live in both sides of it. Hope I didn’t freak you out. I don’t have scales or a pointy tale or bug eyes. Well, those I only have them in the Dubnos. Otherwise I wouldn’t be able to see shit there. But they usually fade after a while once I’ve come back. Don’t look at me that way, I’m sure you’ve ended a few nights out looking far worse.

With the deamhan crystal clear in my mind, I opened the Membrane. I usually can open it anywhere. I just need it to be a dark place, without sunlight directly on it, and without prying eyes around, if only not to scare them to death. So I did it once again. I extended my hand with my fingers firmly aligned, acting like a blade able to cut the viscid film. It slowly pried open, parting like a primeval womb not giving pass to life, but rather absorbing it into its depths. I was already accustomed to the transition, but it always felt like losing a part of you that you were never positive you’d be able to gain back.

The first thing that hits you when you enter the Dubnos is the smell. There’s nothing that can compare to it. Like a mixture of ammonia and really, really rotten eggs. Only stinkier. I could only perceive it in the back of my nose. Once I cross the Membrane, most of my human senses are left behind and… well, demons aren’t particularly squeamish about stenches. Their sense of smell works differently, like a hound’s, but only sensitive to selective traces. I had the odor of that deamhan Frank had sent me still vivid in my nostrils. I sniffed around, trying to pick a scent. The path became distinct in a few seconds, my eyes able to discern it as if it was marked with bread crumbs. An eerie synesthesia, but definitely a useful one.

Even though it works as some sort of shadow of the reality, a muffled copy of the real world, time and space work a little differently in The Deep. Demons don’t have a natural sense of any of them, since they’re maleable, bendable. The same rules we have don’t apply there. So reaching the coast took me less than getting to the tube from the hospital. I’m a bit faster here as well, so by the time I could feel the power of the waves crashing against the jagged cliffs, I slowed down and crouched. There it was.

A thread, thinner than the thousandth part of a hair, came out of an amorphous blob of flesh, almost transparent, like muddy water. I frowned. If I recalled correctly, the human was already far gone. But the the opposite end of that thread was attached to a man. I could distinguish his form, a nebulous, barely distinctive shape on top of precipice. The deamhan was having a rough time pulling form its end. Usually once they were able to tie it to a person, the effect was instant. Most of the times there wasn’t even a struggle. But this wasn’t one of those. He was fighting. Even with his bare foot sticking out of the rock into the void of an indomitable sea, he was still holding on for dear life.

I could wait. You see, I could let the deamhan do its thing and let that poor bastard fall to his death. But remember when I told you that sometimes I get orders to leave them to their own devices? Well. I’m a shitty minion.

The fight was over before it began. By the time the demon became aware of my presence, I had already inserted my left arm all the way into its body, while I was tangling the thread around my right in order to withdraw it. The beast started to convulse, I clenched my teeth and looked away. It was stronger than I had foreseen. Painfully slowly, it initiated the process of swallowing my arm. I could feel its juices pouring on my skin, burning it. I pulled back but it was too far stuck. The thread broke. It was a shit show. I was there, a human about to kill himself and I, to be eaten and digested.

I closed my eyes. If I wanted it to work, I had to work quickly. With my right arm free, at least I was able to use it. The thread was surrounding it, hurting like acid on an open wound. I placed my palm against the slimy surface of the deamhan while I grabbed its insides with my other hand, and pulled. I pulled so hard I felt the muscles of my back strain and break. The energy started to condensate on the tips of my fingers. I hadn’t had to use it in quite sometime, so it took me longer than I expected. But by the time the bastard realized what was happening, it was a smoking spot on the floor.

I fell backwards, out of breath. Or I’d be if only I breathed there. Took me a second to remember the human. I looked at where he had been a second before, but he wasn’t there. He was already falling.

Fuck.

There was no time to think. I could see his shape plunging through the air, near the hair-raisingly sharp rocks of the cliff. Time slowed down to a tortuously lethargic cadence, enough for me to leap forward as fast as I could —which is, to be honest, faster than your eye could see—, as I opened the Membrane and pushed myself through. It slowed me down, but I had got enough momentum, more than enough to counter gravity. With the agonic rush I completely miscalculated the strength I was going to impact on his body with. I felt his shoulder pop out of the socket and his mouth crash against my (rather thick) head as I catapulted us over the cliff. I managed to protect him from further damage as we landed by, well, basically using my own body as an airbed. Not the best sensation, it crossed my mind, as I became aware of the size of the man. He lay on top of me, a dead weight that almost kept me from breathing properly, a few seconds before I crawled from underneath and turned him over on his back. My arms were still burned. In the Dubnos I was able to heal rather quickly, but once I crossed the Membrane back, my human body would became a burden. I still healed at an abnormal pace, but it was much more painful.

I could feel the ligaments of my jaw tightening with the pain, but I had no more time to waste. I straddled his waist, tore his shirt open and he, opportunistic as hell, decided it was the best time to come back from the dead. Or the unconscious. Whatever. So picture this: luckily, last thing he’ll probably remember is jumping off a cliff. Now he regains consciousness and a woman with black scleras and burnt arms is ripping his clothes off. If I’m the slightest bit less lucky, he’ll remember me, emerging from thin air, looking like I’m flying —and damn, I wish I could but that’s actually something I’m completely unable to do— and tackling him into safety. And ripping his clothes off, no, there’s no way to elude that.

“A Dhia…”

He tried to squirm out of my grasp with the arm he was still able to move, but I pushed him hard against the soft grass.

“Quiet,” I hissed while I gave him my most terrifying look. Which then was, well, actually the only look I had. He froze, trying to puzzle his memories, to instill some kind of reasoning into them, fighting the unlikeliness of it all. I arched an eyebrow, staring at him, waiting till he finally made up his mind provisionally. He had felt my strength. He knew, somewhere deep inside, he was at my mercy. Then, his eyes left mine for a second only to discover the wounded skin of my arms.

“Mary, Michael and Bride, your arms are burnt!”

“I. Said. Quiet.”

The fight behind his eyes began again for a few seconds, but he finally stopped wriggling and I was able to inspect his chest. Remember what I told you about the demons? About how they corrupt human beings? Well. that was precisely what that this human had been subjected to. Good thing I still had my bug eyes. I wouldn’t win a beauty contest, but it made it easier for me to find the corruption inside a body. I already suspected where it was. Despair was usually inserted near the heart. I placed my hand on his left pectoral and focused. This one was deep. I began pulling and his face became shadowed by the pain. It’s not the most pleasant process, but I’ve always found humans to be quite receptive to it. As if they knew, somehow, that the pain they feeling is a curative one. Gradually, a conical shape, with a dirty forest green shade, emerged from the flesh.

I let myself sat on the soft grass and sighed, looking at it. My human side felt the call of it, the words in the back of my mind, the pain that would conquer me if I let it. The waving surface was almost mesmerizing. I fell on my back and indulged in the cool feeling of the pasture and the first drops of rain. I heard him move, sitting up and closing his shirt. I could smell the blood from his broken lip. That could be a problem and staying there would only make it worse.

“Who are you?” He whispered, probably not sure if he had dreamt the whole thing, lost his mind or was having the worst trip in history.

I stood up as the rain began to pour down, appreciative of the coolness it impressed on my burns.

“You’ll be just fine. Don’t ever come back here. If you go south you’ll find a small train station if you want to go to the City. There won’t be enough light to go anywhere else.”

I rubbed my hands against my jeans and shrugged, not knowing what else to say. He wasn’t moving and kept staring at me like he was seeing a ghost. Which wasn’t too far from the truth, so who could blame him.

“Well, I—”

“Wait.” He grabbed my wrist and raised my arm, inspecting my clearly healing wounds.

“Do you really want to freak yourself out any more?”

He looked me with those slanted, incredibly blue eyes, as I realized for the first time, and let go of my wrist.

“What’s that… thing you pulled from my body?”

It was my time to freak out.

“You can see this?” I showed him the green cone and raised my eyebrows in absolute astonishment. He nodded, frowning.

“Why?”

“You aren’t supposed to be able to see a Fang. Nobody can.”

“Well, not nobody,” he pointed with indisputable common sense.

I was gaping like a fish out of water. I’ve seen plenty of terrifying, upsetting, disgusting, crippling stuff. Enough to make me almost immune to surprise. But this caught me perfectly out of balance. My eyes travelled from the Fang to his eyes, and I could tell he was waiting for an explanation. Probably more than one. Then, my gaze felt unavoidably attracted to the cut on his lip. My heart was already racing, and I didn’t know how much I could restrain myself.

“This— Remember what you felt when you jumped off?” A semblance of shame covered his features and nodded. “This is it. It wasn’t you. This made you jump.“

“But…”

“I have to go.“

“Wait!” He grabbed my wrist again but I pulled violently as soon as our skins made contact.

“Just wipe that fucking blood of your face!” I snapped, and it was his time to be caught off guard. I started pacing around, nervously. “I can’t stay. I can’t help you anymore. Go on, live your life and all that shit.“

And I vanished.

#scáthach #outlander #outlander fanfic #outlander fanfiction #ladygoutlanderfic #Jamie Fraser #jamie x claire #claire beauchamp #fanfiction #modern au

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