They huddled together, seeking the warmth of each other, heat taken from a hot, human body laying before them. They were young, vampires without masters, turned whether by accident or for sport and then abandoned. Those left to fend for themselves tended to gravitate toward each other, forming packs for safety and security. They were little more than feral, lost and confused in a world they had never been exposed to, never been taught about. Going from human to vampire was jarring and then to not have a support structure in place was like being tossed into the deep end without knowing how to swim.
There was no hope for them. Each, in his or her own time, had already killed. Instinct guided where their maker would not, and for most of them it was unexpected. The snapping point after an argument with a loved one, or a well-meaning but misguided neighbor swinging by to check on one when he hadn’t left his apartment in over a week. It didn’t take much. Then, after that, it took even less.
In their minds, at least they had each other. Most held a certain longing, a need, that they just couldn't scratch. They knew there was someone out there that they were connected to, however tenuous that connection was, but they had no way of finding them. Instead they found each other and reveled in the thrill of the hunt, the consumption of the one thing that made them feel a little more human, if only for a while, blood.
And tonight, as they all sought warmth together, dining on the dying spark of life in their victim, the fledgling pack of vampires found visitors at their door.
The first to notice was a girl. She smelt the aura of familiar perfume, a stark reminder of the lingering humanity she still had, and she swiftly drew back from the pack’s bloodied meal on the ground to see a slender woman with a crossbow aimed straight at her. First, there was surprise, a sharp sting, and then nothing more as the arrow tore through her chest, leaving behind a corpse colder than the human dying in their grasp.
Instinct surged through them, demanding they fight, defend each other against the intruders.
It didn’t take long for their meager group of six to become four, howling in agony as they were assaulted from all sides by stakes and arrows, unprepared to defend their territory.
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“Are you sure you want to do this?”
“The quicker we start picking them off, the quicker we can stop this.”
“So your maker--sire, whatever you want to call him--you’re sure he’s still in this city?”
“I know he is. Or she.”
“We don’t have to go hunting tonight. You can stay home. Lee or Danny will stay with you.”
“I can do this.”
The conversation Gabriel had with Louise that afternoon seemed to be playing itself over and over in his mind the moment Chuck had kicked open the warehouse door. He’d kept the letter to himself. Told them they just had to find the vampire whose blood he’d drank, stake it, then everything would go back to normal. Sure, he’d been lying through his teeth, and he couldn’t even come up with an excuse for himself. He just didn’t want them to know. Maybe he’d be able to fix this himself, but right now Gabriel just didn’t think he could take Donovan on. Not until he absolutely had to.
“Gabe!” Danny shouted, giving Gabriel’s shoulder a firm shake, “snap out of it, man!”
He hadn’t even realized how long he’d been standing in the doorway watching the others take on the fledgling pack they’d tracked down tonight, and it kind of freaked him out how much he actually didn’t want to fight.
“You okay?” Danny asked, keeping his gaze focused on the scrambling vampires, some crawling along the walls while others attempted an ambush on Louise and Chuck.
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“I’m fine,” Gabriel insisted, nodding once and gripping his hatchet tightly. He wasn’t doing the staking tonight. Just the finishing blows.
Chuck spun, barely grabbing one that leapt at him, trying to take him from behind, and slammed it to the ground so Louise could drive a stake into it. Danny grabbed the freshly staked fledgling, dragging it over with a grunt. It felt so clinical, so much like an assembly line, for killing vampires. Things that used to be people, and probably still wanted to be, on some level. They hadn’t asked for this. If they had, each and every one of them would have been somewhere safer than a warehouse with a trail of blood practically leading up to their door.
Gabriel was holding his hatchet tight enough for his knuckles to turn white.
“Go for it, kid!” Chuck shouted, spinning towards another just as a set of sharpened claws barely missed slashing open the back of his coat.
None of the things were even looking at Gabriel. Even when he dropped to the ground to deliver the first blow. Had to slice the neck clean through if you didn’t want to risk one of them rising again. Some stayed dead. Some didn’t. He’d done this before. Plenty of times.
So why couldn’t he stop thinking of Lisa when he did this? For the first time in his life, hunting didn’t feel like striking back against an unknowable evil hellbent on destroying everyone he loved. It felt like murder.
Slowly, he backed away, the hatchet falling from his fingers to land heavy on the floor. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the vampire he had finished off, he felt sick. Without a word he turned and ran outside, heaving, his hand pressed against the wall, barely holding himself up as the sounds of fighting slowly began to die down.
The others could do their job, no problem. They wouldn’t leave until every last one of the fledglings--the monsters, Gabriel reminded himself--were dead. Couldn’t risk it.
“Shit,” Gabriel cursed under his breath, pressing his forehead to the brick wall, hoping somehow it would help cool him, or quiet the thoughts racing through his mind. What was he going to do?
A familiar hand fell on his shoulder, Chuck. Gabriel couldn't muster the energy to shrug it off even, “you alright, kid?”
There was no point in lying. He’d already done enough of that for one lifetime. “Give it a week, and I’ll be just like them, Chuck.”
The older hunter squeezed his shoulder, “can't think like that, we’ll find whoever did this and kill the son of a bitch, everything’s gonna be alright.” he stumbled a little over his words but spoke with such sincerity it made Gabriel want to believe it was true.
“You gonna be the one who deals with me if we don’t?” Gabriel asked, trying to keep his voice steady. It was the promise he knew Chuck couldn’t keep, but one he had to hear anyway.
He could hear Chuck swallow hard, his hand squeezing reflexively, “we’ll find it and if we don't, I, I won't let you hurt anyone.”
The silence that followed was filled with unspoken words, and between the pair there was a very real and very painful understanding neither of them would openly discuss.
“We’ve got to take that book back to Ruben,” Gabriel said, finally turning to face Chuck so he could dig into his own jacket pocket and grab his half-empty pack of cigarettes. “I just finished skimming through it again this morning,” he lied. “Before I fell asleep.”
“What’d you find?” Chuck pressed, “anything?”
“I think it’s a virus,” Gabriel admitted, leaving out the little details that would only make the time they had left even more bitterly sweet, “but everything else we already know. So reading it was pretty much a waste of time.” He’d hate to think what state he’d be in right now if he hadn’t downed that vial, though. Already Gabriel could feel subtle hints of the hunger gnawing at his stomach again, but not enough to make him lose it. Yet.
“Who do you want to go with you?” It was obvious Chuck wasn't going to let him go on his own, he wasn't even sure he wanted to go at all. Donovan would be there and he was dreading their eventual confrontation.
“What, you think I’m going to bite the old man when I drop his little library book off?” Gabriel asked with a wry smile. “It is tempting.”
Chuck gave him the look, the one that as a kid had him apologizing for being stupid, it lost some of its effect when he knew he was going to become a vampire. Somehow he never imagined it would take the prospect of losing his humanity for him to actually feel like an adult talking to the man who’d been like a father to him for the last decade and a half.
“I guess it doesn’t matter who comes,” Gabriel relented, “whoever wants to. Lee’s pretty good at smoothing stuff over if there’s a fight. We still don’t know if the collector is even aware his book went missing.” If Lee didn’t want to go, there was always Louise. Either one of them would work. Maybe even Danny. But if Gabriel was going there to confront Donovan—he’d have to make sure they couldn’t interfere.
“Lee’ll go, Louise is gonna want to take a shower after this,” Chuck said, making Gabe’s stomach roll again at the thought of the fledglings death, “you look a little green there, gonna be sick again?”