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cloversworld[NIGHTQUEST] Book1: Night in the City of Angels, 1/10
American Idol, David C./ David A | Kris A./ Adam L., NC-17 (for the entire fic)
Disclaimer: This is just fiction, none of the contents are real. I do not own the characters and the concept used in this story. No profit was made.
A/N: Written in 3rd POV omniscient.
For more info: MASTER POST
Chapter 1
A storm is coming.
It was the thought he sent out to the woman down the street. He picked her among several pedestrians. Not that he thought she was special. She did stand out with her floor-length dress and flowery hat and frilly umbrella. What made him choose her was because he could sense something in her – something… fulfilling.
He watched her from the window. The not-too-thin fabric of the closed curtain was enough to protect him from the scorching rays of the sun. When the woman stopped in her tracks, gazed up at the sky, her hand shielding her eyes, he knew – knew it was a sign that he’d been able to touch her mind.
The need to feed rushed through his blood. The hunger coiled harshly in his belly. Without wasting another second, he glanced up and felt the power burning through his eyes, bending nature to his will. Dark clouds rolled in slowly like a fleece blanket covering the sky. Some may have found it strange. Others may not have noticed.
“It’s only an hour ‘til the sun sets, Chris.” A voice broke through his wall of concentration. “Why are you in such a hurry?”
“I’m hungry,” was all he offered – an honest and straightforward response. He whipped his head around when laughter, low and sarcastic to his ears, filled the room. “I haven’t fed for three days, Dave. I don’t think there’s anything funny about that.”
Dave raised both hands with his palms toward Daughtry. "No need to lose your temper, man. And I know that. I watched you feed from three teenage girls in one night remember? I just thought that was enough to last you a week.”
“Apparently, it wasn’t.” Daughtry drew his gaze back to the street, three floors below.
The woman – his chosen one – tilted her head up once more, her thoughts clear and open to him. She figured that rain might be pouring soon so she took a detour and turned to an alley right where Daughtry wanted her. He dashed out of the room, ignoring Dave's "you're being reckless, Chris" then leaped over the metal railing without bothering to take the stairs.
Outside, the alley was filthy. One side was littered with empty boxes and crates; garbage bins lined the other. Something that smelled like rotten food filled the air. Daughtry now stood in an alcove, waiting. The woman was near, her heartbeat echoed in his ears. She staggered in her steps and he could feel the hesitation running through her veins. So he sent out another thought, encouraging her to keep walking.
It was darker now. The clouds had clustered perfectly to shield him from the burning glow of the sun. He could smell her blood. The scent burned on the tip of his tongue, so strong that he could almost taste it.
The woman’s heart stopped for a single beat when Daughtry stepped out from his hiding, but then her heart began to race the moment their gazes locked.
Two long strides were all it took for him to close the gap between them. The last thought he sent her (Don’t be afraid. It’s alright) somehow calmed her down and she willing fell into his arms. He didn’t waste another second. Daughtry bent down and sank his fangs into her neck, sucking the blood that gushed through her veins.
Just a mouthful, he reminded himself. But he hung on longer than he should. The temptation spun within him, darkness wrapping its ominous tentacles around his soul, slowly pulling him into the void – the nothingness. A voice from deep within the depth of his being whispered words, coaxing him to… kill.
That’s enough, Chris. The thought stabbed through his mind like a jagged knife, yanking him back to reality. And he released the woman at once, his eyes following the streams of blood that trickled down her neck, felt her body shiver in his hold.
“Good grief, I hope you didn’t kill her,” Dave said from behind him.
Daughtry could hear her heartbeat, slow and weak, her pulse a steady thump against his fingers. She’s alive. He bent down and swept his tongue around her pulse point, licking up the scarlet fluid that glided along her smooth skin, then pressed his tongue flat on the wounds to help it heal faster. “She’s alive,” he said when he pulled away, as if stating it out loud would ease the guilt that was burning right through his gut.
“Yeah, that's a relief,” was Dave’s blithe reaction. “Hurry then. Clean up your mess and be done with it. We need to get going. Michael and the others are waiting at the forest. They’ve got Bucky.” Then Dave was gone as inconspicuously as he had appeared.
There was no doubt Dave felt the conflict that sliced through his mind. And if Daughtry could still feel emotions, the very thought would weigh heavily on his heart.
It had been… he had forgotten how many years he’d walked the earth, had stopped counting when he crossed his five hundredth year. He was getting weaker. The walls around him had begun to crumble and shadows of death seeped through the cracks to claim his soul.
Was there any hope for him? His lifemate, his lovely wife had been gone for years and all hopes of her reincarnating grew thin.
Daughtry was shaken out of his musing when the woman in his arms stirred and moaned, her breathing returning to normal. He knew (he hoped) she would all right. A slight touch of her mind was all he needed, removing the last few minutes from her memory. She wouldn’t remember the incident, would wake up confused and not know how she ended up in the alley. Just like with his other victims.
*
The fog drifted around him like shroud, concealing him from prying eyes. The mist thinned as he walked further into the forest where trees were dense. Leafy branches stretched like canopies, blocking the fading glow of the sun.
Dave stopped at the edge of a slope, ears pricked at the sound of light footfalls against the stony ground. Someone was coming. A huge black panther stepped out from the thick bushes, creeping toward him with predator-like grace.
One corner of his mouth quirked, a half smirk formed on his lips. “You know better than to shape-shift when the sun is still up,” he told the animal, watched it jerk its head up, its body contorting, black furs melted into skin, muzzle morphing into a face. "Humans still hike in this part of the forest, you know."
Daughtry straightened up, said, "Look who's talking. I saw you flying overhead on my way here."
Dave knew there wasn't any point in denying it. He took advantage of the dire need and shifted into a hawk earlier. Someone had to keep an eye on Daughtry. Ever since he lost his lifemate, Deanna, Daughtry had never been the same – always consumed by anger and his thirst for revenge against the vampires that drained the life out of his beloved.
These feelings were familiar to him. Dave went through the same rage after his brother's death and it nearly poisoned his sanity. If it weren't for his other brother, Andrew, he would have. Andrew was patient enough to help Dave survive his grief.
They reached the cave on foot. It was deeper into the heart of the forest, gray mist lingering like ghosts of the past. A cry in pain – the sound of a tortured soul sliced through the air, vibrating through their bones.
Dave and Daughtry shared a thought, their minds slithering on the same path. Michael and the others must have started without us.
Yellow glow pranced against the walls of the cave's opening. Torches lined the path leading to the innermost part of the cave where several Carpathians were gathered.
"What took you so long?" Jason asked, his eyes bright – the radiance of the fire gleaming against the glassy surface.
"I was hungry." The flame of anger licked at Daughtry's core but he pushed down the feeling, not wanting to lash out to Jason or anyone around him. Deep down, he knew he should reserve this emotion only to the one who deserved to suffer his wrath.
The vampire was chained against the rock, weakened by hunger, Daughtry guessed. Otherwise, the creature could've broken free from the restraints. For a moment, Daughtry caught a glimpse of what was once a young man whose face was now nothing but a shadow of the beast that had consumed his soul.
"I'll ask you again, Bucky." The threat that Michael's tone held was unnerving, his eyes cloaked with layers of anger and loathing but it obviously had no effect on the creature.
"Save your breath, Mikey." Daughtry strode closer to the vampire whose eyes now bore malice that made Daughtry's insides curl. The man he once knew – someone they called Bucky Covington – was now buried underneath the darkness that had taken Bucky's soul. "I don't think he's going to talk. Am I right, Bucky? You will never betray your master."
What was left of Bucky's handsome features melted, morphing into the image of the beast he was now. His skin was a dull gray and his eyes sank deeper, creating dark circles beneath. "Fuck you, Daughtry. You will never, ever trick me into talking. I'd rather die than tell you anything." Bucky struggled against his restraints and snarled menacingly, baring his fangs. The chains cluttered noisily and looked like it was close to breaking.
"This is a waste of time." Dave remained at a good distance. This was Daughtry's fight. It was, after all, Bucky who was one of the vampires responsible for Deanna's death. The seers had seen that he was one of those who had taken her from her home.
"You're right, Dave." Daughtry glanced at Michael, who gave a silent nod. Then he stepped closer to Bucky. The vampire had stopped struggling. The smirk that formed on his lips was vile and it made Daughtry's blood rush in contempt.
Daughtry drew back his arm, his eyes never leaving Bucky's. His pulse echoed in his ears in a steady cadence. Then he struck at the vampire, his fist plunging right through the creature's chest. Once his fingers curled around the vampire's heart, he grasped it firmly and yanked the organ out.
It felt weirdly satisfying, feeling the heart pulsate against his palm. The rhythmic contraction weakened as every second ticked. The vampire's blood – black as night – burned like acid against Daughtry's skin but he didn't care. Daughtry could feel the rage that surged through his veins dissipate when he saw Bucky's head droop before he was reduced to ashes.
The vampire was gone. And Daughtry couldn't help but think: One down, three more to go.
*
After they had found and killed the last three vampires who abducted and tortured Deanna, Dave returned home to Missouri. The respite brought him back to his own reality. The memory of his brother's loss washed over him in turbulent waves, triggering the sorrow that he'd managed to suppress over the years.
Daughtry had offered to help him hunt the vampire who took his brother's life. But after Dave had watched his friend take the hearts of four creatures, he dismissed the idea, had told Daughtry that "I believe in the laws of karma. The bastard will meet his demise three times worse than the way my brother did."
It was a lie.
The need for revenge simmered deep in his gut but Dave feared he might turn into one of the creatures that he vowed to rid the world of if he would let anger take control. He held the same fear for his friend. Every time Daughtry killed a vampire, the shadow that loomed over him grew and the man Dave had known almost his entire life seemed to be fading.
For five years, he'd shrunk into the cozy comfort of his old home, constantly avoiding his mother. Beth had eerily evolved from Dave's self-appointed advisor, convincing him to claim his birthright as a Carpathian Prince of the North American region, to a persistent matchmaker, persuading him to seek out his lifemate.
Late one night, she found him hiding in his solitary sanctuary : the library. "Twenty years, Dave," she said wearily, pushing a discomfited breath out of her chest. "It's been twenty years since Adam died and… and you haven't—"
"I've moved past the grief, Mother. Please don't start." Dave did his damnedest to avoid Beth's gaze. He kept his eyes on the page of the book he'd been reading for the past hour.
"Why do I find that hard to believe?" She sounded more concerned than sarcastic. With graceful strides, she went over to where Dave sat and placed a glass of milk on the table beside him.
Dave eyed the beverage and couldn't help but think that some things never change. His mother still did things that were fairly human-like but instead of pointing it out, he said, "You should've brought me beer instead."
The way Beth's lips pursed told Dave that that was probably not the right thing to say. Dave could feel her gaze burn a hole on his temple and later heard her sigh. It wasn't long before he felt Beth's thoughts curling around his own.
Your father and I are worried. You rarely go out to feed anymore. When was the last time you had human blood? You should—
Mom, please. I'm fine, Dave sent out and he felt Beth's mind slowly break loose from his own.
"Good night, Dave. " Beth moved to leave, her soft footfalls fading.
As soon as Dave heard the soft click of the door, he released the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.
*
The sound of distant laughter fluttered in the air. Dave knew he shouldn't be there – alone on the rooftop of the building, sulking while everyone was inside celebrating his one-hundred-eightieth year.
It wasn't long before he felt the presence of his younger brother, Andrew. He expected his mother would soon send out a search party to bring him back to the party, which he considered entirely unnecessary.
"Your mind's closed," Andrew said warily, uncertain what kind of mood Dave had at the moment. Dave had been so unpredictable and temperamental lately that he was starting to worry.
"That means I have no desire whatsoever to speak with anyone, even through mind link." Dave remained staring out into the night.
"Your mood swings are starting to scare me." Andrew moved near the ledge where Dave was standing but he was smart enough to keep a good distance. "You're nearing your two-hundredth year. They say you'll become more bitter, unless you find your lifemate."
"I know." Dave's temper simmered down.
Andrew was right. It had been fifty years now since Adam died but the bile remained buried in Dave's chest. The only thing that kept Dave from diving into the boiling pot of fury was he kept himself preoccupied hunting vampires, protecting innocents and looking after Daughtry.
For the past five decades, Daughtry had attempted to end his life – to greet the dawn too many times that Dave had actually lost count. The loss of his lifemate had slowly pushed Daughtry back to darkness. Dave, Michael and the others constantly worried that Daughtry might not have enough strength to fight the temptation anymore.
"Aren't…" Andrew stopped for a moment, not wanting to put words into the bazillion thoughts running through his head. In his attempt to be concise – to be direct, he uttered, "Aren't you scared?"
The sound of engines rising from the streets below filled the wordless minutes that followed.
"Of what?" Dave finally spoke, his gaze meeting his younger brother's. "Of losing myself? Of losing control?"
Andrew gave a solemn nod and as if his gaze burned, Dave snapped his eyes back to stare at the empty space that stretched before them.
"I'm scared shit, Andrew. Scared that I might not be strong enough to fight the temptation." Dave took a step back, away from the ledge. His chest rose when he took in a lungful of air. Then he breathed out slowly, willing his body to relax. It did nothing to alleviate his anxiety though. "I've been watching Daughtry struggle for years. I might not be as strong as he is. Who knows I will be able to find my lifemate before it's too late?"
"Leave it to fate, bro." Andrew reached out to give Dave a comforting pat on the shoulder. "Someone out there is bound to be your other half," Andrew said matter-of-factly.
Dave was about to tell him that was a shitty speech but then… but then he saw something flicker in the distance, like a lone star, big and bright and far too different from the constellation that blanketed the sky. A flame of hope ignited within him somehow and he thought… Dave thought there might be some wisdom in Andrew's words after all.
~ tbc ~
American Idol, David C./ David A | Kris A./ Adam L., NC-17 (for the entire fic)
Disclaimer: This is just fiction, none of the contents are real. I do not own the characters and the concept used in this story. No profit was made.
A/N: Written in 3rd POV omniscient.
For more info: MASTER POST
Chapter 1
A storm is coming.
It was the thought he sent out to the woman down the street. He picked her among several pedestrians. Not that he thought she was special. She did stand out with her floor-length dress and flowery hat and frilly umbrella. What made him choose her was because he could sense something in her – something… fulfilling.
He watched her from the window. The not-too-thin fabric of the closed curtain was enough to protect him from the scorching rays of the sun. When the woman stopped in her tracks, gazed up at the sky, her hand shielding her eyes, he knew – knew it was a sign that he’d been able to touch her mind.
The need to feed rushed through his blood. The hunger coiled harshly in his belly. Without wasting another second, he glanced up and felt the power burning through his eyes, bending nature to his will. Dark clouds rolled in slowly like a fleece blanket covering the sky. Some may have found it strange. Others may not have noticed.
“It’s only an hour ‘til the sun sets, Chris.” A voice broke through his wall of concentration. “Why are you in such a hurry?”
“I’m hungry,” was all he offered – an honest and straightforward response. He whipped his head around when laughter, low and sarcastic to his ears, filled the room. “I haven’t fed for three days, Dave. I don’t think there’s anything funny about that.”
Dave raised both hands with his palms toward Daughtry. "No need to lose your temper, man. And I know that. I watched you feed from three teenage girls in one night remember? I just thought that was enough to last you a week.”
“Apparently, it wasn’t.” Daughtry drew his gaze back to the street, three floors below.
The woman – his chosen one – tilted her head up once more, her thoughts clear and open to him. She figured that rain might be pouring soon so she took a detour and turned to an alley right where Daughtry wanted her. He dashed out of the room, ignoring Dave's "you're being reckless, Chris" then leaped over the metal railing without bothering to take the stairs.
Outside, the alley was filthy. One side was littered with empty boxes and crates; garbage bins lined the other. Something that smelled like rotten food filled the air. Daughtry now stood in an alcove, waiting. The woman was near, her heartbeat echoed in his ears. She staggered in her steps and he could feel the hesitation running through her veins. So he sent out another thought, encouraging her to keep walking.
It was darker now. The clouds had clustered perfectly to shield him from the burning glow of the sun. He could smell her blood. The scent burned on the tip of his tongue, so strong that he could almost taste it.
The woman’s heart stopped for a single beat when Daughtry stepped out from his hiding, but then her heart began to race the moment their gazes locked.
Two long strides were all it took for him to close the gap between them. The last thought he sent her (Don’t be afraid. It’s alright) somehow calmed her down and she willing fell into his arms. He didn’t waste another second. Daughtry bent down and sank his fangs into her neck, sucking the blood that gushed through her veins.
Just a mouthful, he reminded himself. But he hung on longer than he should. The temptation spun within him, darkness wrapping its ominous tentacles around his soul, slowly pulling him into the void – the nothingness. A voice from deep within the depth of his being whispered words, coaxing him to… kill.
That’s enough, Chris. The thought stabbed through his mind like a jagged knife, yanking him back to reality. And he released the woman at once, his eyes following the streams of blood that trickled down her neck, felt her body shiver in his hold.
“Good grief, I hope you didn’t kill her,” Dave said from behind him.
Daughtry could hear her heartbeat, slow and weak, her pulse a steady thump against his fingers. She’s alive. He bent down and swept his tongue around her pulse point, licking up the scarlet fluid that glided along her smooth skin, then pressed his tongue flat on the wounds to help it heal faster. “She’s alive,” he said when he pulled away, as if stating it out loud would ease the guilt that was burning right through his gut.
“Yeah, that's a relief,” was Dave’s blithe reaction. “Hurry then. Clean up your mess and be done with it. We need to get going. Michael and the others are waiting at the forest. They’ve got Bucky.” Then Dave was gone as inconspicuously as he had appeared.
There was no doubt Dave felt the conflict that sliced through his mind. And if Daughtry could still feel emotions, the very thought would weigh heavily on his heart.
It had been… he had forgotten how many years he’d walked the earth, had stopped counting when he crossed his five hundredth year. He was getting weaker. The walls around him had begun to crumble and shadows of death seeped through the cracks to claim his soul.
Was there any hope for him? His lifemate, his lovely wife had been gone for years and all hopes of her reincarnating grew thin.
Daughtry was shaken out of his musing when the woman in his arms stirred and moaned, her breathing returning to normal. He knew (he hoped) she would all right. A slight touch of her mind was all he needed, removing the last few minutes from her memory. She wouldn’t remember the incident, would wake up confused and not know how she ended up in the alley. Just like with his other victims.
*
The fog drifted around him like shroud, concealing him from prying eyes. The mist thinned as he walked further into the forest where trees were dense. Leafy branches stretched like canopies, blocking the fading glow of the sun.
Dave stopped at the edge of a slope, ears pricked at the sound of light footfalls against the stony ground. Someone was coming. A huge black panther stepped out from the thick bushes, creeping toward him with predator-like grace.
One corner of his mouth quirked, a half smirk formed on his lips. “You know better than to shape-shift when the sun is still up,” he told the animal, watched it jerk its head up, its body contorting, black furs melted into skin, muzzle morphing into a face. "Humans still hike in this part of the forest, you know."
Daughtry straightened up, said, "Look who's talking. I saw you flying overhead on my way here."
Dave knew there wasn't any point in denying it. He took advantage of the dire need and shifted into a hawk earlier. Someone had to keep an eye on Daughtry. Ever since he lost his lifemate, Deanna, Daughtry had never been the same – always consumed by anger and his thirst for revenge against the vampires that drained the life out of his beloved.
These feelings were familiar to him. Dave went through the same rage after his brother's death and it nearly poisoned his sanity. If it weren't for his other brother, Andrew, he would have. Andrew was patient enough to help Dave survive his grief.
They reached the cave on foot. It was deeper into the heart of the forest, gray mist lingering like ghosts of the past. A cry in pain – the sound of a tortured soul sliced through the air, vibrating through their bones.
Dave and Daughtry shared a thought, their minds slithering on the same path. Michael and the others must have started without us.
Yellow glow pranced against the walls of the cave's opening. Torches lined the path leading to the innermost part of the cave where several Carpathians were gathered.
"What took you so long?" Jason asked, his eyes bright – the radiance of the fire gleaming against the glassy surface.
"I was hungry." The flame of anger licked at Daughtry's core but he pushed down the feeling, not wanting to lash out to Jason or anyone around him. Deep down, he knew he should reserve this emotion only to the one who deserved to suffer his wrath.
The vampire was chained against the rock, weakened by hunger, Daughtry guessed. Otherwise, the creature could've broken free from the restraints. For a moment, Daughtry caught a glimpse of what was once a young man whose face was now nothing but a shadow of the beast that had consumed his soul.
"I'll ask you again, Bucky." The threat that Michael's tone held was unnerving, his eyes cloaked with layers of anger and loathing but it obviously had no effect on the creature.
"Save your breath, Mikey." Daughtry strode closer to the vampire whose eyes now bore malice that made Daughtry's insides curl. The man he once knew – someone they called Bucky Covington – was now buried underneath the darkness that had taken Bucky's soul. "I don't think he's going to talk. Am I right, Bucky? You will never betray your master."
What was left of Bucky's handsome features melted, morphing into the image of the beast he was now. His skin was a dull gray and his eyes sank deeper, creating dark circles beneath. "Fuck you, Daughtry. You will never, ever trick me into talking. I'd rather die than tell you anything." Bucky struggled against his restraints and snarled menacingly, baring his fangs. The chains cluttered noisily and looked like it was close to breaking.
"This is a waste of time." Dave remained at a good distance. This was Daughtry's fight. It was, after all, Bucky who was one of the vampires responsible for Deanna's death. The seers had seen that he was one of those who had taken her from her home.
"You're right, Dave." Daughtry glanced at Michael, who gave a silent nod. Then he stepped closer to Bucky. The vampire had stopped struggling. The smirk that formed on his lips was vile and it made Daughtry's blood rush in contempt.
Daughtry drew back his arm, his eyes never leaving Bucky's. His pulse echoed in his ears in a steady cadence. Then he struck at the vampire, his fist plunging right through the creature's chest. Once his fingers curled around the vampire's heart, he grasped it firmly and yanked the organ out.
It felt weirdly satisfying, feeling the heart pulsate against his palm. The rhythmic contraction weakened as every second ticked. The vampire's blood – black as night – burned like acid against Daughtry's skin but he didn't care. Daughtry could feel the rage that surged through his veins dissipate when he saw Bucky's head droop before he was reduced to ashes.
The vampire was gone. And Daughtry couldn't help but think: One down, three more to go.
*
After they had found and killed the last three vampires who abducted and tortured Deanna, Dave returned home to Missouri. The respite brought him back to his own reality. The memory of his brother's loss washed over him in turbulent waves, triggering the sorrow that he'd managed to suppress over the years.
Daughtry had offered to help him hunt the vampire who took his brother's life. But after Dave had watched his friend take the hearts of four creatures, he dismissed the idea, had told Daughtry that "I believe in the laws of karma. The bastard will meet his demise three times worse than the way my brother did."
It was a lie.
The need for revenge simmered deep in his gut but Dave feared he might turn into one of the creatures that he vowed to rid the world of if he would let anger take control. He held the same fear for his friend. Every time Daughtry killed a vampire, the shadow that loomed over him grew and the man Dave had known almost his entire life seemed to be fading.
For five years, he'd shrunk into the cozy comfort of his old home, constantly avoiding his mother. Beth had eerily evolved from Dave's self-appointed advisor, convincing him to claim his birthright as a Carpathian Prince of the North American region, to a persistent matchmaker, persuading him to seek out his lifemate.
Late one night, she found him hiding in his solitary sanctuary : the library. "Twenty years, Dave," she said wearily, pushing a discomfited breath out of her chest. "It's been twenty years since Adam died and… and you haven't—"
"I've moved past the grief, Mother. Please don't start." Dave did his damnedest to avoid Beth's gaze. He kept his eyes on the page of the book he'd been reading for the past hour.
"Why do I find that hard to believe?" She sounded more concerned than sarcastic. With graceful strides, she went over to where Dave sat and placed a glass of milk on the table beside him.
Dave eyed the beverage and couldn't help but think that some things never change. His mother still did things that were fairly human-like but instead of pointing it out, he said, "You should've brought me beer instead."
The way Beth's lips pursed told Dave that that was probably not the right thing to say. Dave could feel her gaze burn a hole on his temple and later heard her sigh. It wasn't long before he felt Beth's thoughts curling around his own.
Your father and I are worried. You rarely go out to feed anymore. When was the last time you had human blood? You should—
Mom, please. I'm fine, Dave sent out and he felt Beth's mind slowly break loose from his own.
"Good night, Dave. " Beth moved to leave, her soft footfalls fading.
As soon as Dave heard the soft click of the door, he released the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.
*
The sound of distant laughter fluttered in the air. Dave knew he shouldn't be there – alone on the rooftop of the building, sulking while everyone was inside celebrating his one-hundred-eightieth year.
It wasn't long before he felt the presence of his younger brother, Andrew. He expected his mother would soon send out a search party to bring him back to the party, which he considered entirely unnecessary.
"Your mind's closed," Andrew said warily, uncertain what kind of mood Dave had at the moment. Dave had been so unpredictable and temperamental lately that he was starting to worry.
"That means I have no desire whatsoever to speak with anyone, even through mind link." Dave remained staring out into the night.
"Your mood swings are starting to scare me." Andrew moved near the ledge where Dave was standing but he was smart enough to keep a good distance. "You're nearing your two-hundredth year. They say you'll become more bitter, unless you find your lifemate."
"I know." Dave's temper simmered down.
Andrew was right. It had been fifty years now since Adam died but the bile remained buried in Dave's chest. The only thing that kept Dave from diving into the boiling pot of fury was he kept himself preoccupied hunting vampires, protecting innocents and looking after Daughtry.
For the past five decades, Daughtry had attempted to end his life – to greet the dawn too many times that Dave had actually lost count. The loss of his lifemate had slowly pushed Daughtry back to darkness. Dave, Michael and the others constantly worried that Daughtry might not have enough strength to fight the temptation anymore.
"Aren't…" Andrew stopped for a moment, not wanting to put words into the bazillion thoughts running through his head. In his attempt to be concise – to be direct, he uttered, "Aren't you scared?"
The sound of engines rising from the streets below filled the wordless minutes that followed.
"Of what?" Dave finally spoke, his gaze meeting his younger brother's. "Of losing myself? Of losing control?"
Andrew gave a solemn nod and as if his gaze burned, Dave snapped his eyes back to stare at the empty space that stretched before them.
"I'm scared shit, Andrew. Scared that I might not be strong enough to fight the temptation." Dave took a step back, away from the ledge. His chest rose when he took in a lungful of air. Then he breathed out slowly, willing his body to relax. It did nothing to alleviate his anxiety though. "I've been watching Daughtry struggle for years. I might not be as strong as he is. Who knows I will be able to find my lifemate before it's too late?"
"Leave it to fate, bro." Andrew reached out to give Dave a comforting pat on the shoulder. "Someone out there is bound to be your other half," Andrew said matter-of-factly.
Dave was about to tell him that was a shitty speech but then… but then he saw something flicker in the distance, like a lone star, big and bright and far too different from the constellation that blanketed the sky. A flame of hope ignited within him somehow and he thought… Dave thought there might be some wisdom in Andrew's words after all.
~ tbc ~
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Date: 2011-11-04 12:10 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-04 11:07 pm (UTC)