Big city

“My brothers and sisters,” Shawn began. His voice actually shivered, but he knew they didn't mind or think it was his weakness showing. After all, he had loved Xavier. Had been his mate, and was now fulfilling the mate's duty. His brothers and sisters needed a new leader. The honour and duty was his. “It is a hard day for all of us.”

Goldie stood in the first row, with Emory beside him. He had an arm around her. It was a very hard day for her, as well, since now it was official – his son Michael was dead.
Shawn let his eyes roam over all the familiar faces. They were so beautiful. They were truly his kindred, his brothers, his sisters of blood and soul.

“I could tell you how sorry I am, but I won't. I could tell you tales of Xavier, but I won't. You know those tales as well as I do. You all knew the man he was. There is nothing I could say that you wouldn't know, no love which you wouldn't share.
I could tell you how we retrieved this information, how Emory lured a vampire into believing that he is helping him escape... But it is past, and today is the day I do not wish to speak about the past. Today is the day I wish you to look into the future.

For centuries our kind has fought against the vampires and all other evil creatures roaming our Earth. Again, I could remind you of the glorious battles and achievements, and once again, I will not, because you know the tales even better than I do. You have fought more battles, you have shed more blood than I have.

My brothers and sisters – today, at the memorial service of our brother Xavier, I wish to tell you two things. First of them is that I accept the duty and honour of being your leader. But I am not going to do this because I must, or because of Xavier. I am not doing this to take care of you, because I believe you can take care of yourselves very well. I'm gonna do this because I want to, because I believe I have something to give you, and there are things I wish to say that none other but a leader can tell to his brothers and sisters.

Now, I wish I was any better at these speeches, but I'm not. Just telling you what I have in my mind and heart. Look, my brothers and sisters, my brothers of blood, my sisters of blood – here I, Shawn Brock, kneel before you all. I look at you with my mind and heart open. If you doubt me, then I pray that you have my body cast into the desert for wild winds to rend apart. I kneel before you and I pray – let me rise as your leader, or let me rise not at all.”

It was a very, very old part of a speech each candidate for a new leader of the Blood Brothers gave, and to each it was different. Shawn's eyes were fiery, but his voice shivered no more, it was ringing clear through chilly morning air.

They let him rise, and he did, in sacred silence.

“Thank you,” he whispered. It was not needed, but he was sincerely thankful. “Look, I know that the boots I should step into are very big. And so I will not try. Perhaps you expect me to, but I will not be Xavier for you. He is dead and we mourn him, we remember him as long as we live. I find it only fair that I embrace his heritage and take it to a new level. As I told you – today is NOT the day to look into the past or linger in present. It is the day to look into our future. All the little and big battles will have to unite and I see them do so. I look ahead of me and I see a world without fear from vampires and other evil mutants. I understand, that in my age one should perhaps have the illusions that they can be changed, they can be integrated into our community. I beg your pardon, but I do not believe in it. Instead I ask you – how many more must die before all of human kind come to a realization that the war with vampires and other evildoers cannot be ended without shedding blood?

These, too, you can call illusions, but they are the ones I believe in, ones I wish to fight for. Once and for all, I want my kind to have peace. So that our children would not be killed by vampires, so that our lovers would not be tortured and killed by vampires. So far we have fought on our own. But I say we will have to form alliance with anyone and everyone wishing to put down these damnable bloodsuckers, the dead walking the world, alive because of our blood. Be it government, be it cyborgs or ever werewolves – a mutual goal can form a bond between us.

My brothers and sisters, it is a war I speak of, and war of such kind none of us has seen before. I stand before you today and I say that my goal is to wipe out the damned nest calling itself the Old House. And done with them, to finish off the Freshmen as well. I see us as the first beacon which will light a bonfire, to wipe the country from this scourge of centuries.

Now, if you think I'm just a delusional fool, then... ask yourselves why did you choose me. If you feel as I do, then I ask that you now take your guns and shoot into the sky. Old stories tell that loud noise banished all evil. If you stand with me today, my brothers, my sisters, then shoot into the sky, and may it be our memorial for Xavier Ford, as well. I pray that his soul will look upon us and feel proud, because his death did not lead to a drawback, but a step towards the future.”

It was the longest and hardest speech he had ever made, ever planned, sewn together, and now he was at it's peak, his voice loud and clear, almost jubilant and certainly ecstatic. He took his gun and pulled the trigger.

A single shot, but it echoed back hundreds of times, with entire camp joining in.
Emory stood very still, his eyes keen on the faces of his brothers and sisters. He had never felt more alone. And now, with all the shooting and all the words, all the racket of gunfire, he remained still. Nobody noticed he never pulled out his gun, never aimed, never shot. Even Shawn didn't notice, believing him to be as everyone else, just like he had fooled himself to believe, that Emory had tricked the vampire to believe he'd be aiding his escape, to lure information about Xavier and Michael. Emory hadn't had to lie to Shawn. Shawn himself fooled Shawn.

“I am sorry, Xavier,” he whispered. Nobody heard, of course. Not even Goldie.
No fancy words to fill my emptiness. No, no words at all. Hark how they murder your silence, my love...

Hark how they murder your silence and my love.

**

At the end of the night which Logan had spent in Emmanuel's company, and before the young vampire would lose his mind over sleep, the scientist took him down to the pits of his laboratory and asked if he could talk to him about something very, very important and discreet.

Logan nodded. The day – well, the night, since they slept by day and commenced into activities by night – had been quite interesting, with Emmanuel constantly showing him new things, telling him stuff, explaining. He presumed, of course, that the other had his reasons, but... they were allies, right? If he couldn't trust Emmanuel, if he couldn't trust Grace a little, then he'd go mad. He'd be alone and lost, he'd never make it. Would he? No, he needed them, and so he played the game, still doubting how much of it was actually being played.

“I've got something to ask you, Logan,” Emmanuel began. Even his tone was different from the usual. No, this was serious, extremely so. So far he'd never seen the scientist looking like this. So very on the edge.

“Yes?”
“Yes. And the question is: how much would you be willing to sacrifice to avenge upon Enoch?”
Logan looked puzzled.
“Umm... Well, a lot, of course. I mean... I don't understand. What is this about now, Emmanuel? We've already spoken about this, haven't we?”
“Yes, and no,” the other responded. He still felt nervous. “Let us put it this way – how far would you go to get the revenge you seek, to kill... to kill Enoch?”

“He destroyed my life,” Logan hissed. “I have sworn to kill him. It sounds like.... you have a plan, don't you, Emmanuel? Then why do you ask me this? Just tell me what to do and I will do it. I will sacrifice what it takes, I will go as far as I have to. I will kill him.”

Emmanuel pressed fingers against Logan's lips. “Shh... Hush now, no need to say these words so many times. I believe you. And you are right, clever and perceptive as you are – I do have a plan. A plan which succession would mean the fulfilment of our mutual desire.”

“Tell me,” Logan insisted. His eyes flared.
“Very well then. Do you know of the duel?”
“Um... duel? You mean like – two guys fighting each other?” Logan was confused.
Emmanuel smirked. “No wonder he has left this part of traditions out of your daily lessons. After all, it might prove dangerous if you knew. Shortly put, the Duel is the way of our kind to challenge the current leader in order to become a new one.”

Logan was still puzzled. What did this have to do with him? He didn't want to become a leader to anyone, and the idea of fighting against Enoch in a one-to-one combat sounded simply ridiculous and outrageous.

“So?”
Emmanuel snorted. Okay, so the boy would have to be explained. Very well then. He could do it. Of course, it was insanely dangerous, but he was already in it and if Enoch would have gotten a clear look into his mind – or the boy's, then Emmanuel would have been one very dead undead.

“Logan, I would like you to imagine just for a moment that you had in you what it takes to beat Enoch. Would you do it? Would you...kill him?” There was still a mild pause before he could say the word “kill”. Enoch's child, he couldn't help it just like he had never been given a choice whether he wanted to become one.

Logan stared at him. Rather coldly, one could say.
“Imagine,” he drawled. “What is the use of imagining that? I could as well go and try to tear down M.”
To his amazement, Emmanuel grinned. Logan was startled, and even more confused. What the hell was going on?

“Well, you could, I tell you, if only you wished. Pst. Not easy, of course, but it is possible, Logan. The only question is – should I bother to tell you, or are you just too big of a sissy to even consider the possibility.” Aye, he was trying to pull on the boy and set him off. He needed that. Perhaps he could try and get Logan into trouble a little, so that Enoch would get angry at Logan and punish him. Would give him a softer material to work on. But hopefully it wouldn't be necessary.

Logan sighed. All hints, all just... imagination, going round and round without actually telling him anything. He hated that.

“Are you going to tell me, eventually?”
Ah, so the boy was getting impatient. Good. Only good.

“Very well. I'll be putting my life into your hands, Logan. Hopefully my instincts have not faltered and I can trust you. Or – can I trust you?”

Logan growled. “I've got no chance proving you anything anyway, so... suit yourself.” He was annoyed. He really hated when people didn't go straight to the point in whatever they were saying or up to.
Emmanuel allowed himself to smirk just a little. Nice. Things were going the way he liked them. Logan was swallowing the bait nicely. He could tell him now.

“Alright. You know, if I hadn't planned to tell you, I would not have begun with this conversation. So, listen up, Logan, and listen well, because I will not be repeating it too much. Even my walls might have grown ears. And then we are both dead.”

Logan's eyes perked up and straight into Emmanuel's. The older vampire had to admit they were stunning. No wonder even Enoch had kind of fallen for the boy. In a way, keeping him as his pet.

“Tell me,” Logan insisted.
Steel beneath the soft core. Wonderful.

“I trust you know what cyborgs are, Logan?”
The young man nodded while eyeing Emmanuel suspiciously.

“Good. Didn't think you wouldn't know. I am sure you have also been told that I am “breeding” cyborgs.”
“Kinda,” Logan shrugged. He'd heard a rumour here and there, even before he came to live in the Old House. There was word on the street about vampires building cyborgs to fight humans. But once again, he couldn't very much understand what it had to do with him. The understanding was just a tiny bit out of his reach, but he felt he could get there if he tried harder, reached his hand out longer, and then he could touch it and have it before Emmanuel would deliver it to him on silver plate and that almost maniac smirk of his. Emmanuel was mad. Too many said that. Even Grace.

“It's true,” Emmanuel continued. “Not breeding, though. That expression is very much off. You cannot breed something like that, since you need alive material. Or in my case – undead. It doesn't matter. Vampires are even better to work on, since they heal faster.
First off, you need to know that your government – pardon, the human government in M has been experimenting with cyborgs for quite some time. Of course, the reason of such course of action is not public information. But – I have my sources, you can be sure in that. The government is building cyborgs in order to fight off mutants. Vampires, to be precise, though they could also be used against werewolves and whomever else. Even humans. It does not matter. What matters is that they are building an army against us, to wipe us out.”

Logan snorted. “And a right thing to do.” He could not help but say it. Now Emmanuel would get pissed, wouldn't he? But the little scientist just sent him a queer gaze and continued talking.

“For quite some time now I have been experimenting with building cyborgs of my own, as a means of defence against the government and their cyborg army. Can you blame me for that? Or do you find that we all should die, and then the werewolves, and then perhaps those that are not so very lawful and loyal to the government. Allow me to remind you, Logan, that vampires are NOT a different species. We are but mutated humans. You are but a mutated human. High level of mutation, but still. At least you don't have fur all over you...”

Logan shrugged. “Get to the point?”
Emmanuel chuckled. “So very impatient, are you? But my story is important, my dear young fledgling. However, I will get to the point where you come in shortly. To put aside my experiments with developing means of defence, we get to a different point. Which you are. I told you that I have means to make you able to fight and luckily even kill Enoch, to take your vengeance upon him. Can you not guess already what those means are?”

Logan looked at him, and then he shuddered. “You... are thinking you would turn me into one of your... cyborgs? Is that it?”

Well, not quite the exact reaction Emmanuel had waited, but it would do for now. So he nodded. “Yes. To put it that way – yes. I would. I could.”

“That is...,” Logan had to seek for a proper word, and then it came to him. “Disgusting.”
Emmanuel rolled his eyes. “Disgusting, huh? Oh, really? And why is that?”

“Because... because it is not natural,” Logan replied after a moment of consideration. It wasn't very easy to explain feelings. Not to one with most likely much lesser capacity.

“No, it is not,” Emmanuel nodded. Logan jerked. He hadn't expected the scientist to agree.. “Of course it is not natural. But it has been done and can be done, successfully. And it is not as if I would make new humans, or new vampires. I am very far from playing a... god. I am merely talking about improvements. Scientific improvements. So, you find that disgusting? I am sorry. Unfortunately, I find that a necessity. But, I understand. You find it despicable and wouldn't use such means to get back to Enoch. You'd rather keep on being his little sex slave.”

Logan hit him. It was anything but a good aimed punch, and nails grazed over Emmanuel's cheek, causing little pearls of blood appear from underneath his marble skin. After all, he had taken care to get his daily nutrition.
And then he simply got a hold of the boy's hand and broke it down. Logan yelped in pain and everything went black before his eyes, with red lights flashing. Red as blood.

“Your wrist is broken,” Emmanuel told him coolly. “I could do it. Very easily, as you might have noticed. Enoch could do it with a snap of his fingers.”

“He's done it it,” Logan whispered through the red and black haze of pain.
“It will heal, don't worry,” Emmanuel said. “Hurts like a bitch, I know, but it will heal. You will simply need to feed a little. I will arrange it, later. But now, listen to me, little one. Sweet talk is over. I broke your wrist to prove you a certain point. Which is – if you would allow me to improve you with technology and gene therapy, then you could most likely break Enoch's arm as I just broke yours, or at least you could fend him off. You could be at the least his equal, if not his superior is strength and many other abilities. You could challenge him, you could fight him, you would have a good chance to win. And then you could go and live with your boyfriend, for all I care, because it would take an army of agents to bring you down. Do you understand me, Logan? Look at me! Do you understand what I am saying?!”