Gundam Wing Fan Fiction / Fan Fiction ❯ Preventers: When Vampires Attack ❯ Chapter 10
Eventually, Joe was found hiding in a dumpster out behind the club. He didn't appear any worse for the amount of wear he'd just taken, but then again this was Joe. He was probably just too stupid to look upset. Or maybe he was just used to being chased by raging mobs with homicidal tendencies. Whatever the case, he was indeed (and quite unfortunately) in one piece.
Eugh. Amy held up her garbage-slimy hands and curled her lip disdainfully. She could think of about a thousand better ways to spend her nights than fishing for Joes in giant trash bins. But then that was just her. Stacie seemed pretty darn adamant about getting Joe out and back onto terra firma. By now, she had pulled a purple dressing robe over her shimmery shiny costume, but the glitter on her exposed skin sang even beneath the dull streetlights.
While some people might feel a little unloved by such unwarranted attention, Joe rose to the occasion. He also picked a slimy, rubbery object out of his hair. "Did you see them? They were all over me. Those punks. I coulda taken `em all!"
Stacie stared at Joe as Amy grabbed his grungy arm and hauled him out of the dumpster. She tried to pull him out so that he landed on his ear, but to no avail. He landed on his feet, knees bent and one hand extended to steady himself. As he straightened up, he put on his best bad-boy face and ran a hand through his now-greasy hair. Somehow, that just made it worse.
"Joe. What the hell are you doing here?" Stacie continued to ogle as Joe Cool brushed nightclub refuse from his clothes and face. "I mean... it's just.... God. You reek."
"You think I came to look at you, don't you!?" Joe poked a grimy finger at Stacie's nose. "You think I just wanted to see you all shiny and naked and sexy and... and... wa-wa-whoa...."
Amy smacked him.
"Where was I?" Joe blinked. "Oh yeah. Punks. I came because I, um, always come here. And I wanted to see if I could make her cry." He jabbed a finger in Amy's direction. Despite her selfless rescue attempts, he had effectively ignored her until now. She just hoped he didn't touch her. Her stomach was already feeling a bit queasy as it was.
"Right, Joe, right." Stacie sighed and reached out as if to touch his arm. Fortunately, she reconsidered and backed up a step instead. "You, ah, want to go back inside?"
"Damn right." Joe muscled his way past Amy - whose entire right arm reeked of garbage by now anyway - and made his way to the backdoor. The same bouncer that Duo had previously encountered pushed him back and raised an eyebrow in Stacie's direction.
Amy and Stacie exchanged a glance as Joe became somewhat irate and began spewing out a stream of threats that sounded pretty darn unhealthy. Crud-muffin. Amy threw her hands up and shook her head, careful not to aggravate what had blossomed into a migraine. "I am not claiming responsibility for your ex-boy-toy!"
Stacie nodded, but sighed. "He's with me," she called, walking toward the bouncer - who had put Joe in the granddaddy of all painfully extreme headlocks. The bouncer reluctantly released Joe, who immediately kicked him in the shin and ran into the club.
Whadda-night.... For some inexplicable reason, Amy suddenly regretted ever accepting this mission. She resigned herself to a mental scolding and silently followed Stacie through the backdoor. And I thought my reunion with Mikael was straight from a nightmare. Even as his name slithered through her mind, she could feel eyes on her, as though some of his servants had heard her thoughts. She suppressed a shudder and crept back to her station behind the bar, barely resisting the urge to sweep the room with her eyes.
Damien, of course, had everything under control. In fact, most of the patrons had either passed out on the counter or headed back home to pass out there. The bar was a forlornly empty creature when the hapless trio meandered in. Amy smiled slightly as she caught the twangy lyrics of an old country song. Apparently, Damien had taste. He winked at her, making her wonder just how many vampires could read minds....
Stacie pushed an unconscious man off his barstool and plopped herself down in his place. Amy was just about to poke the man with a stick when another bouncer arrived to cart him off - presumably to dump him in the street. What service.
As Stacie and Joe launched into a conversation, Amy picked up a clean rag and went to work on the countertop, keeping a watch on Damien from the corner of her eye. If the guy knew Conan... she'd love to hear the inside scoop. Y'know, what her ex-lover had been up to these past five years since his disappearance. On one hand, he might trust her enough to give her the low-down... On the other, she doubted he'd blab in front of such dubious company. Amy just couldn't see Joe being a spy for Mikael - like hell - but she had to admit that he had never, ever been up to any good.
In the split second that she took her eye off Damien to glare at Joe, the vampire bartender materialized behind her. Not a mindweb; just some fast, silent movin'. The kind that you become capable of when you live in the same body for a century or so. "You don't look so well." He rested the backs of his fingers on her cheek before she could pull way. They felt like ice. She hadn't realized how warm she felt until now.
"Why don't you head home? It's almost 2am. We'll be closing up any minute now."
Amy stared at him stupidly for a moment or three before nodding. "Thanks. I- I think I will. I... haven't been feeling like myself lately."
Damien afforded her a knowing look, then slipped off to clear a table. Amy made a point of watching him move. Silent, yes, but if he was using any mind tricks, they weren't working on her. She let a wry smile play across her lips, then left Stacie and Joe to their heated discussion.
"Wufei. . . ?" Amy triple-checked that it was his dressing room door before cautiously opening it.
She was greeted with a full Shanghai moon before Wufei could pull his pants on the rest of the way. The surprised expression soon melted into one of concern when he saw her face. "You look terrible."
What a darling man. He certainly wouldn't be winning any popularity contests. "Yeah, thanks. I pretty much feel like the garbage I just pulled Joe out of."
"You're sick? Are you okay?" Wufei seemed unsure as to whether he should take her temperature or leave her to suffer in solitude. "Who's Joe?"
Who's Joe, typical testosterone. Amy considered dropping a rather acidic remark, but couldn't see the right of taking a stab at a man with such a cute ass. "To be blunt, my dear, I feel like shit." She massaged her bellybutton for a moment. "I think it has to do with the mark, though."
That decided the issue. Wufei stepped forward and gently slid his hand over her cheek and up to her forehead, brushing her bangs out of the way. "Amy... you're burning up. You shouldn't be here."
"I'm leaving now." She drew her head back, away from him, and stepped back before she knew what she was doing. "Damien's excused me a bit early."
"Well, I'm through here, too. I was going to scout about a bit after I was done here. But let me get my-"
She rested her hand on his forearm. "Wufei, I'll be fine. I'll try to contact Conan when I get back and see if he knows whether the way I'm feeling is normal for someone in my position." She pasted a smile on her sallow face. "Go muck about in the alleyways like I just know you want to."
She could tell by his eyes that he wasn't buying her smile. Those obsidian eyes darkened and he set his jaw with a stubborn determination. "No." He motioned for her to wait as he slipped into a tee-shirt.
Amy walked out.
Alone. The thought hit her as she stepped out into the dimly lit streets. Why do I want to be alone? I've never liked to be babied while I was sick, but this is a little.... With a start, she realized that she was fingering the mark on her arm. Forcing her hand into a tight fist, she growled and shook her head. BAH! Amy, m'girl, you are getting paranoid in your old age. Probably has nothing to do with the mark or Mikael.
Wufei caught up to her before she rounded the first block, still struggling with his jacket. He was immediately followed by Stacie and Duo. At first, Wufei looked like he was going to light into her with one of his infamous rants. One look at her face changed his mind and he occupied himself with his jacket. In the rear, Stacie and Duo discussed Joe in hushed undertones. All in all, the walk was quiet and uneventful. After the outcome of the last walk back from work, that was much appreciated.
Regardless, it was a boundless relief when she reached the apartment. Somehow every step closer to the place made her feel slightly better, despite a strange growing pressure in her head. At least that seemed to drown out her migraine. By the time she reached the door, she was ready to write off whatever discomfort she may have been feeling previously as indigestion. Still, she figured, I ought to try to contact Conan. He'll be so proud of me for actually listening to him for once.
As she reached for her apartment key, Amy's shoulder received a poke of the Stacie sort. "Hey, wanna head on over to our apartment? Avyth should be there soon and we could use you and Wu to get him talking."
"And we could make popcorn," Duo piped up.
For a moment, Amy was tempted. Duo seasoned popcorn with the best. As she opened her mouth to agree, her migraine made an astounding comeback, searing across her right temple. She sucked air through her teeth and clapped a hand to her head. "Sorry, guys, but I think I'd better get myself to bed. I'll come by when I wake up, though."
Wufei touched her shoulder gingerly as Stacie and Duo let themselves into their apartment down the hall. "Are you going to be alright? They say they need me to get Avyth talking, but…." He grimaced and threw a reluctant glance at their door.
"Yeah. I'm just going to take a long, hot shower, pour some Advil down my throat, and bundle myself into bed." She tilted her head back to kiss him softly. "No worries."
He sighed and headed down the hall. She waited until he disappeared into the other apartment before she unlocked her door and stepped inside.
As soon as Amy entered the pitch-black apartment, she knew something was wrong. Her breath caught in her throat as she stared into the room and fumbled to find the light switch on the unfamiliar wall. There were no noises except the sound of her hand scrabbling for purchase. After what seemed like an eternity, she found the switch and hit it. Nothing happened. Numbly, she clicked it a few times, although she knew it wouldn't do any good. The power couldn't be out; the hall lights were on, shining dimly through the doorway at her back.
What happened to that all-fired night-vision of mine..? Conan had said she might lose it. She couldn't decide whether she was relieved or disappointed. It really could have come in handy.
She backed into the doorway and glowered into the inky blackness that was the living room. All the curtains must have been drawn to shut out the city lights like this. Had she and Wufei closed them before they had left that evening? Had they turned out all the lights? Usually they left one light on to come home to.
Amy, you cheesehead.... You're freaking out over nothing. The lightbulb could have blown, or a breaker fitzed, or you're clicking the wrong switch, or maybe God just hates you. She took a series of deep, collected breaths and tried the living room light switch again.
Suddenly she was bathed in a sharp swath of light as the bedroom lit up, its harsh white light searing across the living room. Amy took a step forward, her brow furrowed in consternation as she blinked into the light. Now what the- The bedroom appeared to be empty from the angle she could see in, but-
I'm not taking any chances! Not after the last two nights. I'll just go stay with the others down the hall- She whirled around, poised to flee back into the corridor. And bumped into a He-man chest. As she ricocheted off the bulging muscles, she could just make out his face in the shaft of light. Oh goody. This man could have been the African-American triplet to the Tweedledee and Tweedledum from the alleyway. Just what she needed. More pain and suffering, with a side of chips. And curly fries. She liked those.
Thick black hair cropped close in a buzz cut, Mr. Muscles had a solid face that virtually screamed, "I eat nails for breakfast!" He looked like he'd borrowed his outfit from Arnold Schwartzenegger, and the set of the Terminator.
"Goin' somewhere?" His voice, soft and real gentile-like, didn't match that steely build one bit. He flashed a rather handsome smile.
"Well, you see, I'd had my heart set on leaving," Amy grunted. She slowly rose into a crouch, planning on cutting her way through this obstruction. But he only acknowledged her quick, sharp strikes enough to block each one with a thick forearm. Frustrated and short of breath, Amy backed further into the living room, putting some distance between them as she plucked a thread of Fire from its ethereal stream. As the torrent raced through her veins-
Her world exploded in a flash of white pain that faded into a high ringing sound. When she managed to blink her eyes enough to actually focus on her surroundings, she discovered that she lay sprawled out on the carpet. He-man gently shut the hall door and began rubbing his knuckles threateningly. "No hard feelings," he rumbled through the ringing in her ears. "But the master warned me not to let you get oriented."
No hard feelings? "N-none at all...." She squeezed an eye shut as something warm and gooey oozed down her forehead. This just would not do. She rolled onto her side and concentrated on the ball of flame that had already begun to manifest in her hand.
This earned her a kick to the ribs.
Although her fireball vanished, He-man still didn't seem satisfied. She curled in to cradle her throbbing ribcage as he pulled her to her feet. When she realized he wanted her to walk, she almost laughed. Then he twisted her arm behind her back and it didn't seem so funny anymore. And it gave her the incentive to run a marathon. She reached that bedroom door in .2 seconds flat.
"Put her on the bed and leave us," a familiar voice growled.
Amy tried not to wince as she was roughly pushed into the bedroom, passing from near blackness into a blindingly well-lit room. The difference in lighting did serve to blind her momentarily. She felt, rather than saw, herself being deposited on Wufei's side of the bed. She did, however turn toward the doorway just in time to see Mikael lock it and effortlessly break both door handles.
Crap, crap, crap, crap, crap!! Conan said the marks created a link! But I don't think I… I didn't feel anything...! Stupid Conan. Amy squirmed and cast a frantic glance around the room, intent on securing an alternate escape route. Stupid me.
"Well, Phoenix. We meet again. Sadly, this time I have no plans of extending an invitation to you. That just doesn't seem to work. Your place works just as well as mine." Mikael crossed the room to stand before her, his tone carefully neutral. At least he was wearing more than a robe this time. Crimson silk spilled over his torso like spun blood, pooling over his chest and hands in gentle waves. Somehow, he had shrink-wrapped himself in another pair of black leather pants. A pair of elegant black cowboy boots stood beside the doors. Amy stared at them for a moment before eyeing Mikael's be-socked feet.
He crossed his arms and regarded her with a silent, measuring gaze. She set her jaw and glowered over his shoulder, disconsolately rubbing her ribs. It was useless to try to outstare a vampire, and she just wasn't in the mood tonight. She tried to keep her eyes guarded, but let them slid across the bedroom wall toward the balcony door. The curtains were open just far enough to allow her to find what she was looking for. The door was locked from the inside, but the handle was still attached. Score.
"No cute quips, Phoenix? No words of greeting for your master?"
She tensed, her face darkening to a fierce scowl. His satisfaction fell upon her in thick waves until she thought she might suffocate. But there was no tinge of dark amusement this time. Her breath caught as she allowed herself to search those piercing sapphire eyes. As soon as she looked up, she knew she had made a mistake. His eyes, as cold and final as the grave he eluded, pinned her in place with a terrible pressure. She felt herself shrink back and hated herself for it.
His pupils contracted, partially lost beneath a cold sea of blue. Or how about thoughts? What is occupying my little bird's flighty mind tonight?
Amy jumped as the pressure of his eyes was echoed in her temples, moments before his voice whispered through her mind. She caught herself running her fingers through her hair, as if she could rake out his intrusion. But she still couldn't pull her eyes from his; without touching her, he held her fast.
Fear clenched her heart so tightly she feared it would implode. Desperately, she reached past the pain of her ribs, the weight of his gaze, seeking her Element. But as she reached out for the torrent, a stream, a thread, she felt a smooth barrier slip into place between her and the Fire. The Element roared just beyond her reach, tantalizing and taunting.
What the-? Never before had she encountered anything like this. It dawned on her a split second later. Mikael.
Mikael's smile held no warmth, not even a hint of the amusement that always clung to him like a second skin. He lowered himself into an effortless squat, balancing gracefully on the balls of his feet, all the while maintaining the forceful gaze. If that wasn't enough to make her feel violated, his next move did it. He ran his hand through her hair, mimicking her motion, then let it rest on the top of her head. Like a master soothing his dog.
You…are not…MY MASTER!! Amy gathered herself and hurled the thought at him like a cudgel. Before the words were completely formed, she threw his arm away with a clawed hand, breaking their eye contact and throwing him off balance. For the briefest of moments, shock washed over his entire face. But he collected himself in even less time, immediately manipulating his momentary imbalance to rise smoothly. She let her eyes glance across his, but this time there was no trap there. He grinned toothily, baring more fang than necessary.
"Now there's my Phoenix." Slight amusement and yet more satisfaction rolled over his tongue, wrapping around his words with the strangest impression of bare skin on skin. "I knew you wouldn't let me down. Yet here I was wondering if I had managed to jar you. Oh, not break you, of course, not yet." His eyes glinted. He allowed himself to blink. When he met her gaze again, the amusement might well have never been there. "I didn't have time to, even had I wanted."
With a low snarl, Mikael whirled and stalked to the dresser. Amy considered the silken folds of the back of his shirt, her forehead furrowed and her jaw slack. He certainly was in rare form tonight. An unamused Mikael was a scary Mikael. She smoothed her face and darted her eyes toward the balcony door, mentally clearing herself a path. She could reach it in less than two seconds. But would that be enough time? As she secured her gaze on Mikael once again-he hadn't caught her looking away, thank god-she tried not to think about the limited choices the tiny balcony afforded her. She could act much braver if she didn't think about the three-foot drop beforehand.
"I think you already know what I'm after tonight. Also know that if you give me simple, truthful answers, Janaki and I will graciously take our leave before…anyone else becomes involved." Mikael rested an arm on the dresser and let his eyes run over the loose coins and hairbrush that lay on top.
Wufei! Dammit, what would happen if he walked in on this? The guy in the living room-Janaki? -would be waiting for him. Could he possibly take him? At best, Wufei would get through with a great deal of bruises. At worst…. Better to try to appease Mikael for now. Amy resisted another peek at the balcony door. Even if she got out, they might just wait for Wufei. She didn't want him involved, not if there was a possibility of him being forced into a fight he just couldn't win.
But what did Mikael want tonight? His accusing eyes certainly did suggest that she should know. The third mark? Already? Or perhaps he was just keeping her under his thumb. Y'know, proving that he could find her anytime, anywhere. That worked too. Unfortunately, it was probably also mostly true. Unless she could get out of Alben. And to do that, the Preventers would have to solve the murder case. With no new leads, that was looking pretty damn undoable.
Mikael fingered through some of the coins, holding a select few up to the light and examining them for the secrets of the universe. "I want to know when you contacted Conan, and how."
She jumped again as the sound of his voice penetrated her thoughts.
White fangs glistened, matched by a dangerous glint in his eye. He delicately placed the coins back down on the dresser and deliberately smoothed his hand over them. "That's right. I know who your `savior' was. He came looking for you; there can be no other explanation. He has made it a point to stay far away from me these since Nikolaos died. Of course, if he hadn't, I'd have killed him." He swept the coins to the floor. They grated sharply against the wooden dresser, but made no sound in the plush carpet below. Blue eyes drifted from the scattered silver to her shocked face. His satisfaction grew deeper and warmer, rubbing her skin like a fat, smug cat.
It was Amy's turn to grin. He really thought he had something here. "Conan? Haven't seen him in years. I got out all on my own. You really thought you could leave me in a room with a window and expect me to stay put?"
Mikael smirked and snorted crudely. Shaking his head, he opened the topmost drawer and casually sifted through its contents. "We saw him. We know he was there. Is he truly so weak that he needs his girlfriend to cover for him? Ex-lover, even." He laughed softly and drew a lacy blue bra from the drawer, eyeing first it then her. "It would be easier for both of you to simply cooperate. If Conan would willingly submit himself to me, I would let him live."
Amy tensed, her eyes narrowing as her chin rose slightly. "Your politicking is disgusting; there's no way he'd let himself fall subordinate to you. Even his allegiance is a far cry more than you deserve. Conan is more of a man than that. He's a damned deal better than you will ever be."
With a roar that no human throat could produce, Mikael rushed at her. Despite her supposed heightened senses, he became nothing but a red and black blur until he stopped a bare centimeter from her face. She made no sound, but jerked away, her eyes so wide she feared they might leap out of her face altogether.
"That pathetic…sniveling…cowardly WORM! He is nothing, with no ambitions, no spine, and no future! He is afraid of me! And he damned well should be. Why do you think he's been skulking about these last few years? He's afraid of change, afraid of me! Disgusting. I would have left him alone if he had just removed himself from my domain. But after undermining my authority, blatantly interfering with my plans, breaking into my private house, and spitting upon both my title and position as his superior…." Mikael's eyes darted to his hand, which had been shaking the bra in her face. His lips curled in a slow, chilling smile as his eyes slid back to her. "I will weaken him and let my vampires feed on him, night after night, holding him on the brink of final death until he begs me to end it all. When the spirit which he is so fond of breaks, I will allow him to serve me personally. I'm sure he will gladly leap at the chance."
Mikael slid his hands into her hair, firmly clasping the back of her head to touch her forehead to his. His breath, a scentless whiff of death, kissed her lips as he spoke. "Perhaps I will give him to you, when you serve me as well." His grasp tightened when she tried to shake her head away from his. "For serve me you shall, fledgling. In the end, you will serve me or die. And know that if ever I must make the choice, I will not hesitate to kill you."
That being said, he twisted the bra around her wrists as she sat in stunned silence. A small silver dagger appeared in his free hand, presumably from a bracer hidden beneath that silken shirt. He ignored her flailing attempts to tear out of his grasp, to disarm him. No less savagely, Amy battered at the strange barrier he somehow held in place between her and the Fire. He didn't acknowledge her struggle and his eyes never left hers as he lowered the knife to make a perfect cut across the thigh of her jeans. He leaned in, drawing the cloth down to expose her inner thigh. To expose the scar on her thigh. He examined it for a moment, first with his eyes alone, then thumbing the white scar tissue, then pricking it delicately with the tip of the dagger. Whatever he saw pleased him; he released her and stood with a satisfied sigh.
"I will return for you at my convenience. When you are ready, I shall give you the third mark." The dagger disappeared up his sleeve again.
Once Amy realized that she was in no danger of being skewered tonight, she pinned him under her most heartfelt Death Glare yet. Then she set herself against the bra that still ensnared her wrists most heinously. A woman's blessing and curse, bras. Tricky devils could always bite you when you least expected it. He must have tied it or hooked it together somewhere in that tangled mess of lace…dammit.
"Ah, now I hunger," he sighed softly. Good old Mikael-amusement shone in his eyes as he watched her struggle against his handiwork. He had pulled his boots back on and was now wriggling his left foot to find the optimal fit. "You do have that effect on me, it seems. Oh now, no jealousy, little fledgling. Know that when I feed on my eager victim, I will pretend that it is you in my arms instead," he laughed. A threat, a tease, or a compliment? Before she could decide, he winked and touched a forefinger to the side of his nose.
Scowling fiercely, Amy fully focused on the bra. And saw it lying innocently across her lap. Stunned, she darted a look at Mikael, only to discover that she was alone in the room. The bedroom doors were slightly open, both doorknobs still securely attached. She craned her neck to peer into the black living room beyond, but could see nothing in the darkness. The coins at the base of the dresser glinted mischievously, catching her eye. Amy stared at them uncertainly, running a finger across the clean cut in the denim of her jeans. It seemed as though Mikael still had a few tricks up his sleeve after all.