Silver Revolver

The Treaty of Transylvania; 1479

4) Enslave of enemy brethren in times of war between covens is permissible.
5) Voluntary enslavement may be used to pay debts.
6) The head vampyre of a coven is responsible for the punishment of traitors.




Shards of broken glass from the smashed mirror of the dressing table littered the floor. Sanguine splotches stained the gold wallpaper and the carpeted floor. Dominic’s body was sprawled on the bed. He was almost unrecognisable, a bullet wound between his open eyes ripping his face apart and his once-powerful chest mutilated by deep, dripping gashes. The dead human was still on the floor, lying next to the bed where he’d been so callously discarded. Most of the furniture was broken. The room was trashed; there was no simpler way to put it. Dominic and Nicholas must have bribed the staff quite handsomely to ignore any suspicious noises they heard coming from their suite, because surely such racket would have been heard throughout the building.

Crucifix followed the redhead into the macabre scene, rubbing his aching jaw bemusedly. He found the smaller man standing with eyes so widened that one would think he’d happened upon a wraith.

“Did you have to hit so hard? Fuck, did you have to hit me at all?” the demon complained, breaking the deathly silence. Jabez had a mean right hook for such a waif. He was sure he could taste a hint of blood in his mouth.

“Where’s Nicholas?” ignoring his questions, Jabez pivoted to face him.

“Who’s Nicholas?”

Orange eyes narrowed in annoyance. He pointed to the bed where Dominic’s body laid. “The other vampire you supposedly killed; the blond one!”

“I’m still a bit drunk, alright? You don’t have to yell.”

“Crucifix, where is Nicholas?” Jabez repeated slowly, fighting to maintain his composure.

“I have no idea. He flew at me and I shot him in the stomach. I was aiming for his head, but you know, drunk and all. He was on the ground for a while… I guess he got away…”

“…Please tell me this is your tragic idea of a joke.”

“I’m not wasting unnecessary ammo on a freebie. That shot was good enough; he’s mortally wounded. I’m sure he won’t get far.”

Jabez sighed; Crucifix was terribly unreasonable. The bloodsucker had a feeling this was not the end of Nicholas. It took a lot more than that to kill such a powerful vampire. If it had taken so many shots to kill Vladimir, surely slaying Nicholas would require the same effort. Fear coiled in the pit of Jabez’s stomach. Nicholas’ survival meant that he wasn’t safe. The blond would come after him.

“So…are you going to tell me what happened or am I supposed to come to my own conclusions?” Crucifix frowned as he took in the scorched skin on the other’s pale wrists.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” and with that curt reply Jabez started scouring the room for his clothes.

“You don’t want to talk about it?” Crucifix scoffed. “Well, that’s too bad, because I do.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Jabez was opening and slamming the drawers of the dressing table, trying to focus more on finding something to wear than on the conversation. He didn’t want to talk about this. What could he possibly say? The sex had been painfully consensual. They hadn’t done anything he didn’t take pleasure in, and that was truly sickening.

“I busted my ASS trying to find you and now you’re going to tell me this isn’t a big deal? Judas saw two men carry your unconscious body outside!”

Tension skyrocketed in the silence; Jabez refused to unlock his lips. The calm before the storm was coming to an end. Jabez could sense Crucifix’s tenuous grasp on neutrality slipping as he continued to ignore him.

“I was stupid enough to be worried. Fuck, alcohol can really make people do stupid shit… Normally I wouldn’t have even bothered to look for you. You’re just an unnecessary burden to me.”

Those words cut deeper than Jabez would’ve liked. He bitterly retorted, “There’s nothing stopping you from leaving now.”

“For some ungodly reason, I held out the hope that you were taken against your will. But from the looks of things, you enjoyed your gangbang. Once a slut, always a slut, right?”

That was the catalyst needed for the tension to reach its boiling point.

“Fuck you!” Jabez snapped as he reached for the surprising unscathed vase of white roses on the vanity and hurled it at the slayer’s head.

With a grace honed from years of fighting, Crucifix dodged the fragile missile effortlessly. It broke into a million tiny pieces against the wall behind him. An angry growl erupted from his throat. He threw himself at the vampire, slamming the smaller body onto the vanity’s table top; the force produced splintering the ivory, lacquered wood. The jagged remains of the mirror sliced the skin on Jabez’s back. White hands tried in vain to stop the larger man from tearing the towel off. The demon’s grey eyes narrowed angrily as he took in the bruised hips.

“I thought I made it clear that you belong to me!” he roared furiously, gripping Jabez’s chin forcibly to ensure eye contact.

“You fuck anything that crosses your path! You have no right to be angry!” the ginger haired male brazenly accused.

“My loyalty to you was never part of the deal.”

“If you hadn’t left me to flirt with those wenches this would’ve never happened!”

“You lost your rights the moment you threw yourself at me. You can’t expect to change the rules now.

“I don’t care!” Jabez wrenched Crucifix’s hand off his chin. “I want to be the only one who satisfies you.”

“You can’t handle me by yourself. I’m a demon. Sex is something I constantly crave. I could literally kill you if I don’t hold myself back.”

Long, thin fingers laced themselves in the blue hair, pulling their faces so close that they were scant millimetres apart. “I don’t care,” Jabez reiterated.

A low, amused chuckle reverberated in the demon’s throat. “You’re so spoilt. I’m new management, Reds. Pouting won’t make me change my mind. This topic isn’t up for discussion.”

“But—”

“Am I going to have to fuck the concept of obedience into you?” he suddenly pried Jabez’s thighs apart, using them as leverage to pull the vampire’s arse over the ledge of the dressing table and against his hardening cock. “…Because that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

Crucifix’s lips were on his in an instant, the kiss so incessant in its aggressiveness that he lost his breath. The demon’s tongue tasted every inch of his mouth. Soon those warm, moist lips were gone, opting to migrate along his jaw line and then settle on his neck. Languid licks turned into gentle nips, which in turn evolved into painful biting. Crimson pooled around the sharp teeth as they sank into the pallid flesh at the crook of his neck over and over again. A hiss tinged with both pain and pleasure escaped Jabez’s lips. He arched his back and dug his nails through the thin material of the black shirt and into the broad, muscular back as Crucifix grinded his fully clothed erection against his own exposed one. Before he knew what was happening, calloused fingers were roughly teasing his nipples; pulling, twisting, and pinching. Pre-cum oozed freely from his shaft, his body still overly sensitive due to the hormones released during feeding.

Their lips met once more, this time the blood in Crucifix’s mouth was swapped along with saliva. Jabez groaned in frustration when Crucifix briefly broke the physical contact in order to throw his shirt to the ground and whip his dick out of his pants; much too impatient to fully disrobe.


He held Jabez’s thighs obscenely wide open as his weeping head disappeared inside the loosened hole. He watched his cock slide in intently, enamoured with the way the other man’s most secret areas were on such vulgar display. The vampire tried to hasten the entrance by thrusting his hip downwards, but Crucifix wasn’t allowing that. He yanked Jabez’s right leg up into the air, and held the left outwards, successfully limiting his movements. Jabez let out a displeased huff which transformed into a high pitched wail halfway as Crucifix rammed the rest of his cock in.


“You’re mine,” Crucifix rasped, his warm breath on Jabez’s ear sending an involuntary shudder down the pale body.


Breathy moans and the slapping sound of skin colliding in rather violent coitus filled the ransacked suite. Long legs were wrapped around the demon’s waist, skinny arms bracing around his neck. Long, cinnamon hair fell over his shoulder, caressing the bronzed skin as it shifted in time with his brutal thrusts.

No matter how hard Jabez tried to look away, despite the sexual euphoria clouding his mind, his eyes kept meeting Dominic’s unblinking gaze over Crucifix’s shoulder.


==

Panicked footsteps clopped up and down the hallways. People were running around like headless chickens, orders barked and questions asked. The source of the chaos: Master Nicholas’ arrival. The head vampire had flown straight through the castle’s living room window, shattering the glass and, naked as a newborn and bleeding profusely from his stomach. He’d collapsed on the floor, coughing up even more blood, his wings limp beside him. It was a miracle he’d made it so far; he flew the entire twenty mile distance back to his county with a silver bullet lodged in his gut after fighting viciously with Crucifix James. The fight alone would have winded him, much less getting shot.

The sight of their master in such poor condition sent the servants into turmoil. The coven’s healer had gone to feed for the evening, meaning no one present had even the foggiest idea of what to do. A diminutive, dark haired concubine let out a startled shriek as Nicholas’ cold hand enclosed around her thin ankle when she ran past him.

“Get… Edgar…” Nicholas breathed out, referring to the resident healer.

“He left for the night, my lord!” she said fearfully.

“Am I supposed to lie here and die?!” the blond roared, squeezing the girl’s ankle hard enough to snap the bone with a sudden burst of energy. He regretted that action as soon as he heard her pained sobs. He let her go with a disgusted grunt, causing her to crumple to the floor like a puppet with its strings cut.

“We’ve sent for the healer in Vincent’s Order, my lord. Edgar has left the county’s border. We cannot find him,” a male servant stepped forward. “Help should be here shortly.”

Powerful coughs racked Nicholas’ battered form and desperate gurgling noises were heard before more blood dripped from his mouth which was overflowing with the precious fluid seemingly every other second. “Get this pathetic whore away from me. Her miserable blubbering is annoying,” he commanded, his voice significantly weaker. Darkness teetered on the outskirts of his vision, consciousness gradually slipping between his fingers. The blood loss was taking its toll.

Two men grabbed the snivelling concubine’s arms, dragging her cruelly across the stone floor and out of the room.

“Tie stones around her neck… throw her into the river,” were Nicholas’ last words before his throat ceased to function. It felt as though his own blood was drowning him. He closed his eyes; staying awake required too much of his diminishing energy.

The foreign healer and his medics were performing makeshift surgery on him. He did not know how long he’d been cataleptic, but he wished they’d used some sort of anaesthesia on him. Blinding pain encompassed his abdomen; a threaded needle was dipping in and out of his raw skin, closing the area they operated on with a suture. This must have meant the bullet had been removed, though he could not feel a difference; the pain was just as unrelenting as it was earlier, but the fact that they were stitching him up made it a sensible assumption. He could barely hear their voices above him. It was as if he was in another world. Opening his eyes proved to be a fruitless endeavour for his vision was hopelessly blurred. He could barely make out anything but blobs of colour. However, he was still too weak to maintain consciousness.

When he awoke next, he found himself in his chambers. He was lying on the massive bed, his torso bandaged and sore. The deep violet drapes always kept the sunlight out, so he was none the wiser to the time of day. He attempted to sit up, but the pain that unleashed made staying on his back a more convenient alternative.

“Ah, you’re awake, Master Nicholas,” Edgar entered the room, a tray with a fresh roll of bandaging, gauze, balls of cotton and multiple small bottles in his large hands. Edgar was a giant of a man, impressive in stature and bulky. His brown hair was slicked back flat on his scalp, drawing even more attention to his hawk like nose. He took a seat next to the bed. “You had a very close call.”

“Where were you? I could’ve died,” Nicholas said coolly.

“I decided to pick up some new herbs. And it’s a good thing, too. You’re going to need these,” the healer shook one of the little bottles.

“How soon until I recover fully?”

“You have a long road ahead of you, my lord. I have to monitor your condition. There’s no telling how much damage the silver bullet has done to your internal organs. A bullet is bad enough, much less one made of that toxic metal.”

Nicholas sighed, clearly not happy with that news.

“News of Master Dominic’s death has spread throughout the coven. I’m guessing this is true?”

“Unfortunately.”

“I am sorry for your loss.”

Sharp, blue eyes narrowed at the healer. “No, you’re not. None of you are.”

Edgar shrugged indifferently. “I was just trying to make you feel better. Grieving will hinder your healing.”

“I’m not grieving. This only ensures that I won’t have to fight him for leadership.”

“How cynical,” Edgar chuckled. “Do you mind sitting up? I’d like to check on your injury.”

Grudgingly, Nicholas forced himself upright. Large hands deftly removed the bandages. Neither man spoke as Edgar inspected the sewn gash.

“I see no signs of infection yet. Everything seems to be in order, my lord.”

“Nothing is in order until Crucifix James is dead.”

“Crucifix James?” the larger vampire parroted curiously.

“He is responsible for the deaths of both of my brothers. And he has something that I want.”

“What could that rogue possibly have that would interest you?” Edgar tipped the contents of one bottle onto a cotton ball before dabbing it along the suture.

“Jabez.”

“…Don’t tell me that Whore of Babylon has the same hold over you, too.”

“I’m not as foolish as Vladimir was. I don’t wish for love.”

Edgar gave a noncommittal grunt at that.

Silence reigned as the healer applied new dressing. Nicholas’ mind was preoccupied with plots of revenge, while Edgar simply wanted to get this task over with so he could sleep for the remainder of the afternoon.


==


The Metropole was where Crucifix called home. Skyscrapers, nightclubs, and automobiles were all a part of the tapestry of modernisation. Jabez was in awe of his surroundings; his county was painfully rural in comparison. The bullet train ripped through the bustling city at such speed that he barely had a chance to comprehend everything he was seeing. The vampire slayer watched him with subtle amusement, likening the redhead’s behaviour to that of a child… a child with very visible love bites and a suggestive limp.

They disembarked at the next stop, into a less modern area of the metropolis. Actually, it was a strange hybrid of Gothic, Romanesque, and modern architecture. The vampire had never seen anything quite like it. The intricate designs and the beautiful arches of the mossy buildings were truly breathtaking. Jabez couldn’t deny that the power lines, ATM’s, and the bullet train railways seemed rather out of place. There were not as many people in this side of the Metropole. Even the manner in which they dressed was different; corsets and long, flowing skirts were not rare. It was like a futuristic flashback.

“Cultural retention at its finest,” Crucifix smirked. “You’ll get used to it. I’m sure you were around in those days anyway.”

“I suppose so,” Jabez shrugged, a yawn threatening to unhinge his jaws. It was a cloudy afternoon, so at least he didn’t have to worry too much about exposure to the sun. However, he was still in dire need of a good rest after the wild night he’d had.

“Let’s get going. My place is just a few minutes away,” the demon said as he shifted his heavy bag to his other shoulder. It seemed as though he’d acquired an injury to the rotator cuff in his right shoulder.

They trekked along the broad sidewalk, the slayer occasionally nodding at people he knew. The further they went, the less buildings and people they came across. Eventually the sidewalk trickled into a worn path through a wooded area.

Through the trees and tall grass, an abandoned Gothic cathedral was exposed. Vines threatened to conquer the towers and the ground was mossy, tall grass growing in some areas. Jabez had a hunch the bricks were white at some point, but now they were discoloured to a sinister grey. This place made him uneasy, something about it unpleasant for reasons other than its decay. The clock face was boarded up, as well as the windows in the main tower. Ravens roosted in the intricate designs of the brick work; some even bold enough to take up residence in the spire.

“Where are we going?” Jabez felt the need to enquire.

“This is where I live,” the other replied defensively.

Jabez nodded, not sure of what else to do. The unpaved path continued alongside the church, beneath an arch with the terrifying face of a gargoyle etched into it. A cemetery greeted them, aging headstones, marble angels, and tilting crosses peering at their guests curiously. Beyond the graveyard was a Gothic cottage, vines also covered it, but somehow it held a homely aura. An enclosed, arched porch overlooked the cemetery through its stained, cathedral windows. This was certainly not where he’d expected Crucifix to live. He expected something flashy and modern; a perfect haven for debauchery. What he found instead was anything but. Crucifix remained an enigma.

“I’ve only got one bed, but I’m gonna be fucking you anyway, so that shouldn’t be an issue,” the crass bounty hunter announced nonchalantly as he unlocked the door.

Antique furniture decorated the interior. A large painting depicting the crucifixion of Jesus hung above the fireplace in the living room. There was a modestly furnished kitchen where the table was, and one door leading to the bathroom and another to the bedroom. Crucifix threw his bag to the ground and yawned loudly. He was wiped out thanks two days without sleeping and rigorous physical activity. He flopped unceremoniously onto the champagne, Victorian sofa, observing Jabez quietly as he stared at the painting above the mantle.

“I would’ve never taken you for a Christian…” the vampire murmured thoughtfully.

“I’m not, dumbass. The last priest who lived here decorated the place. I never bothered to touch it; I don’t care how it looks.”

“Must you be so uncouth all the time?” Jabez glared at him and took a seat in the matching armchair to the sofa.

“Yes.”

Jabez shook his head in the way one did when talking to a complete moron. “How did you come to live here?”

“That’s a part of my past. And you know how that goes.”

“Right, silly me…” the auburn haired male deadpanned.

“Crucifix, you’re home! What took you so long, you bastard?” a boy of about thirteen flounced out of the bedroom, his clothes covered in motor oil and goggles atop his head, almost hidden by his shaggy, wheat coloured hair. Jabez almost suffered a heart attack, and from the looks of things, Crucifix was right behind him.

“Bennett, what did I tell you about breaking into my house? Better yet, did you fucking get oil on my sheets?” the demon narrowed his eyes.

“The sheets are fine, mother,” Bennett retorted sassily. “I fixed your motorcycle, you ungrateful sod. And for the record, I did not break in. Rebecca was here with me, but she went to buy food since you have nothing in your fridge.”

“…I recall having food in my fridge before I left.”

“Well, I may have broken in yesterday. But that’s in the past. And we all know you don’t like talking about that!” the boy grinned cheekily. And then his brown eyes landed on Jabez. “Crucifix, that’s either a Goth albino or a vampire in your living room.”

“That’s Jabez. He’s gonna be here for a while.”

That seemed to be enough to placate the boy's curiosity, because he bounced over to where Jabez sat, and extended his greasy hand good-naturedly. “I’m Peter Bennett, but everyone just calls me Bennett. I’m a genius; I fix Crucifix’s weapons and his vehicles. For free,” at that he shot the demon a dirty look.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Bennett,” Jabez forced a smile. He was unwilling to get oil on his hands, so he skipped the handshake altogether. Just what on earth had he gotten himself into?

“Boy, you’re a stuck up ginger, aren’t you?” Bennett rolled his eyes.

“It’s not his fault you need a bath,” Crucifix interjected before Jabez lost his temper, which he appeared to be very close to doing.

Before anything could happen, the front door opened and a girl stepped inside. Jabez assumed this was Rebecca. She appeared to be in her early twenties. Her hair was long and wavy; dyed a dark blue much like Crucifix’s. She was pale and freckled, but also extraordinarily pretty. She wore a simple, black dress and boots, a brown paper bag of groceries clutched against her chest.

“Crucifix, you’re back!” the girl smiled, an endearing blush on her face.

Jabez hated her already.

“Oi, sis, did you remember to pick up the candy I wanted?” Bennett yelled obnoxiously despite the fact that the cottage was so small you could probably hear someone breathing in the next room if it was quiet enough.

“Yeah, I got it, you little runt,” she rolled her eyes exasperatedly, resting the bag on the kitchen table and then returning to the living room. “Hello,” she smiled unsurely at Jabez, noticing the disgruntled look he was shooting at her.

“Don’t mind him,” Bennett said through a mouthful of sweets. “He’s cattier than you during your period.”

“That’s Jabez. He’s staying with me,” Crucifix informed her.

“Oh, well, alright,” Rebecca shrugged nonchalantly. “How was your bounty hunting? You didn’t get hurt again, did you?”

“Not too badly… just a few cuts and bruises. Although I think I fucked my shoulder up.”

“I’ll check it out for you after I make dinner,” she made her way to the kitchen. “What would you like to eat?”

“Steak,” the demon replied.

“We had steak for dinner yesterday!” Bennett whined.

“Then don’t eat any,” Crucifix snapped. “I did not miss you at all.”

Rebecca poked her head into the room. “What about you, Jabez? You’re a guest, after all.”

“I’m a vampire.”

“Oh… Then steak it is,” she laughed nervously.

Bennett, Crucifix, and Rebecca were engaged in conversation, each having their own role to play. Jabez had never felt more like an outsider in his life. It was strange to see Crucifix acting so normal and domesticated, but something told him that the humans probably had no idea who they were dealing with either.

Crucifix James was the epitome of enigmatic.



==
The Munez Feed:
Thank you for all the hits and votes, especially the marvellous reviews. Sorry to keep you all waiting for this one. I hope you enjoy this boring, transitional chapter.

EDIT: I think I'm actually going to end this story here.I may write a sequel or a prequel or something, but I figure this doesn't need to go any further; Jabez worked his way into Crucifix's home and everything so, no more to really tell. Thank you for reading and reviewing this one. Means a lot.
Munez