He didn’t know if he was going crazy from hunger, or crazy from some kind of second puberty courtesy of raging undead hormones, or just because being around Donovan these days almost made him feel normal. Gabriel didn’t like that. He didn’t like how miserable he felt when he was completely alone. At least when he was human, a bottle of beer and a one night stand could at least make for a fun weekend. Now he wasn’t so sure that was an option anymore. Unless he wanted a hefty cleaning bill and a pack of hunters on his ass.
Gabriel didn’t move to open the passenger door once they were parked. He just peered at Donovan through the rearview mirror. “Why can I see you but not me?” He had no reflection, and it was unsettling.
“It is one of the drawbacks of not eating. I am well nourished and you are not. You will find a greater sensitivity to sunlight and holy items as well.” Donovan explained, “once you have a proper meal you will be able to see yourself again.”
Gabriel looked down at his lap, then back at the dashboard in front of him, and through his window towards the bar. Pretty much anywhere but directly at Donovan. He didn’t want to admit it, but he wasn’t just righteously angry about having to do this. Hunting monsters, not people, had been his life. If he willingly went through with this again, he’d have nothing left of who he used to be. He was scared.
“Gabriel, come, it's time to get dinner. I know you want to feel better.”
“You’re going in with me?”
Donovan nodded, opening his door, “yes, I thought you might be more comfortable that way.”
A sudden buzzing sound in Gabriel’s pocket caught his attention, and he was just about to check his phone, when he looked back up at Donovan, “you think we’ll get lucky and find someone who really deserves it?”
“Anything is possible, especially in a place like this.”
It was at least something to hope for, Gabriel supposed. He ignored his phone for the time being and slipped out of the car, “how do you normally do this? Any advice?”
“I look for someone who I can easily lure away, whether with the promise of sex or violence, and take them outside to a private area where I can eat without being disturbed.” He paused, looking at Gabriel over the top of the car, “I know you'll do well.”
He’d already done it on his own once. Even if Gabriel hadn’t planned it. He thought about the woman he’d killed, and wondered if maybe this time it would be a little less messy. Easier.
“We forgot to bring a tarp,” Gabriel remarked, following Donovan to the bar entrance, noting how dingey the signs looked, how dirty the grout of the red brick walls were. Nobody cared about this place. Nobody cared about the people inside. Why should he?
Because he had to.
“We won’t need one. If evidence does get in your car Ruben and Clarence will take care of it. The training servants receive is quite impressive with regards to taking care of forensic evidence.”
The music was loud enough to be heard through the door as they approached, and from what Gabriel could tell judging by all the cars in the parking lot, it was probably pretty packed inside.
“Seems like a lot of work goes into being a henchman,” Gabriel said, pulling the door open for Donovan.
“I'm sure either of them would be more than happy to share their experiences with you if you asked.”
Gabriel lowered his voice, confident that even through the blaring music assaulting their senses now as they stepped inside that Donovan would still easily make out what he was saying, “what do they get out of it?”
“The idea is that if they do their job well they will earn eternal life, they will be rewarded by being turned.” He kept his voice low, matching Gabriel’s.
Given that they’d probably have to be just a little bit sociopathic to even survive in their profession, that actually made a lot of sense. For a human being with little to no consideration about the value of another life, being a vampire likely had no drawbacks.
“That’s--comforting, I guess. That inspires loyalty, then?”
“Yes, they are also taught loyalty, it is trained into them.”
The argument about dogs vs human beings would have to wait until another day. Gabriel was exhausted with just the idea of discussing the merits of human life with Donovan right now. Maybe his hunger was beginning to wear him down.
“So you want to try to grab a drink at the bar and-” Gabriel paused, struggling to find the right words, “-pick a target, I guess?”
Donovan nodded, motioning toward the bar, “that would be agreeable.”
Gabriel tucked his hands into his jacket pockets, leading the way. He very narrowly avoided stumbling into a man abruptly shoving his chair away from a bar table to show off a quivering stomach tattoo to his buddies. This place was full of class.
Finding a small space near the corner of the bar, Gabriel hopped onto a seat, looking around him as he spoke, “I don’t think we’ve actually hung out together away from the house since--well, since I had to move in.” Granted, he didn’t really count the uncomfortable reunion with his friends as ‘hanging out’.
“There hasn't been much time to do so. Things tend to progress quickly in the beginning, requiring rapid adaptation, it makes it difficult to do anything aside from learning.” Donovan stated, motioning to the bartender, “whiskey for me, please.”
“I feel like I’ve spent more time sleeping than anything else,” Gabriel replied, smiling ruefully. “That normal?”
“Yes, actually. Sleep and rest are the most important things in the beginning. As your body changes it requires more rest to recover from the experience. Over time they will not be as necessary and you may even find yourself needing less sleep than before.”
“How much do you sleep?” Belatedly he realized what he was asking, but it was already out there in the open, “I mean did the experience being trapped in the wine cellar affect that much? Are you ever afraid you’re going to go to bed and not wake up again?”
Donovan was silent for a moment, “honestly, yes, I have no desire to sleep but it’s still necessary. I only need a few hours of sleep at a time. I worry I won't wake up, that there is some lasting damage, however there have been no signs of such, yet.”
He honestly hadn’t thought much about what Donovan went through. Gabriel hadn’t spent much time thinking about much beyond himself lately. Ignoring the side-long curious look the bartender gave them, Gabriel ordered a double shot of rum and coke. “What was it like?”
“I could see and hear and feel everything, I was aware, and yet unable to act. In the beginning I hoped that it would end but as time went on and the hunger raged inside I could think of nothing more than the revenge I would have when I somehow awakened. I somehow knew that one day I would wake but I didn't know when.” He nodded in thanks to the bartender when his drink came, his fingers curling around the glass, “I do not recommend the experience.”
There was a brief pause in the bar as one song faded into silence, and groups holding wild conversations together realized the sudden absence of music. Gabriel surveyed the people around them, noting how very few seemed even remotely sober or friendly. When the next obnoxious cover of some forgotten alternative rock song began, he refocused his attention on Donovan.
“I’m sorry.” Gabriel wasn’t sure exactly what he was apologizing for. His own behavior, or the shit Donovan had to go through, or just the fact that he really wasn’t sure how to ‘decide’ which person deserved to die tonight at his own hands. He was a little overwhelmed.
“Don't be, it's because of you that I'm awake now.” He glanced around the bar, “let me teach you something.”
Gabriel was somewhat nervous at that idea, “like what?”
Donovan tapped his temple lightly, “how to read minds.”
“Do you have to do some weird blood exchange?” He asked, quiet enough so the bartender couldn’t overhear them. The idea was unsettling, but Gabriel was just a little intrigued.
“Not at all. If you wanted to control them they would need to drink from you, however, reading their surface thoughts is a matter of focus, nothing more.”
“So I guess that’s how you controlled Lee?” How in the hell had he managed to trick the hunter into drinking his blood?
“Yes, that is how I controlled Lee and can still control him, however, he is also protected from any form of mind manipulation that another of our kind tries on him.”
Gabriel looked at him then, “so if you wanted to, would it work the same way with us? Could you force me to do something I didn’t want to?”
“No, the best I could do is make you stop doing something but only for a brief time. I could stall you so that we could discuss things but the decision would ultimately be yours.”
Somehow, he knew Donovan wasn’t lying to him. “So how does this mind reading thing work?” He asked, changing the subject to something a little lighter. This was already going to be a rough night, Gabriel didn’t feel like finding stupid reasons to work himself up. He’d been doing enough of that lately.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Donovan turned, looking around the bar, “the man in the back left corner, the one by himself. Focus on him, look through him with your mind, close your eyes and let go of your own thoughts. It’s easier than it sounds.”
It wasn’t hard to spot the guy. He had one hand a little too enthusiastically tucked into his coat pocket, and the other bringing a cigarette to his lips with yellow-tipped fingers. Not really what anyone would call the life of the party. Not in a good way, at any rate.
“The one with the man-bun?” Gabriel asked, taking a gulp of his rum and coke.
“Man-bun?” Donovan scowled before realizing what he meant, “ahh, that, yes, that one.”
It was some small comfort to know diseases probably couldn’t be sexually transmitted through thoughts. The guy looked like he had to have at least three. “Right, okay, look through him.” What did that mean? Was Gabriel supposed to cross his eyes before closing them? He took a deep breath and set his drink down, not looking away from the trend-setting pervert at the back left corner of the bar. Focusing on anything but the raucous music and chatter around them was going to be a challenge.
“Close your eyes and listen to my voice.” Donovan spoke near his ear, just loud enough for him to hear, “block out the music, block out the noise, just see the man sitting there.”
It still wasn’t easy, but it was easier. Whether Gabriel liked the sense of comfort he got from Donovan’s presence or not, the words helped. Gabriel took his time trying to find the balance between blocking out everything and leaving just enough room to form a thought. A mental image. Then, somehow, he could just see the guy in his mind’s eye. Not clearly. Just sort of a blur, followed by an onslaught of muffled words. ‘Bitch’, ‘money’, and ‘cocktease’ being the three strong enough for Gabriel to understand.
Gabriel opened his eyes, “I don’t think I’m doing this right.”
“What did you see?” Donovan prompted.
“I saw him. Sort of. Heard a couple of words. I didn’t get much. I mean, there was something, but that’s about it.”
“Close your eyes and try again, it will be fleeting at first but will become clearer.”
He nodded, doubtful that this next attempt would be any better. Gabriel’s strong suit had always been more along the lines of--well, hunting. He strongly suspected this called for an entirely different sort of skill-set he wouldn’t easily acquire. Like calculus. Or cooking that went beyond the advanced level of boiling an egg.
“I don’t think I can do this,” he remarked, closing his eyes again and trying to focus. This time, it was a little easier. The man was still a blur in his mind, but the words were not.
“They’re all just a bunch of sluts,” the man’s thoughts rang out in Gabriel’s head like he was sitting right beside him, ranting and raving, “scissor-legging whores with yo-yo thongs. Need some cash. Bet that fat one over there would take it real--”
Gabriel opened his eyes, “I think I’m done with that guy.” He had the strong urge to take a very hot shower now.
“I think you did it right.” Donovan couldn’t help but laugh.
Oddly enough, though Gabriel had intended to eat someone who actually had it coming, somehow he just didn’t find the idea of that particular victim very appealing. The guy probably tasted like old socks and watered-down whiskey. He grabbed his rum and coke and re-directed his attention to Donovan, “you--” just as he was about to broach the topic of hunting, he noticed a woman sitting beside Donovan sizing him up. “I think you’ve got company.”
Donovan looked puzzled before turning to see who had decided to sit beside him, “yes?”
“Hi,” she greeted him, tossing back a fall of fried blonde hair over her shoulder, “so, you like this song?”
“It isn't really to my taste.” Gabriel could tell that Donovan disliked being hit on by the woman, he could tell that the elder vampire saw her as inferior.
“So,” she traced a finger idly over her half-empty snifter as she spoke, “what kind of music do you like?”
Gabriel restrained himself from butting in to whatever conversation she was trying to start. He didn’t care to explore why he was irritated. Maybe he was picking up on Donovan’s feelings. Christ, she was touching his shoulder now. Couldn’t she take a hint?
Donovan narrowed his eyes, “I prefer classical music, although I do enjoy a good rock ballad now and then. I was attempting to have a conversation with my friend, if you wouldn’t mind I would like to continue it.” If that wasn’t a dismissal Gabriel didn’t know what was.
Pursing her lips, she looked away, thoroughly insulted. It was hard not to feel just a little satisfied at that reaction. She’d probably saved herself the trouble of being eaten, too.
“Don’t mind me,” Gabriel assured Donovan just loud enough for him to hear without getting the woman’s attention, “I can look after myself if you really want to get to know her.”
Donovan raised an eyebrow, “no, I have no interest in the woman, she would be good for you, however.”
It was with no small measure of surprise that Gabriel realised the idea didn’t bother him quite as much as it might have earlier in the evening. His hunger was already getting worse, and his irritation at their brief interruption only seemed to add to that.
“No,” Gabriel reluctantly decided, “not her.” A criminal, he reminded himself. Someone who had it coming. Not just a bar-hopping bimbo with no concept of personal space. “Why weren’t you interested, though?” He asked out of more than just innocent curiosity.
“While she is healthy, the ascetics were not up to my standards. Also, this is about you, we need to get you sustenance, not me.”
The thought of peering into each and every mind in this bar just to find a meal was in itself exhausting. Why couldn’t violent psychopaths or rapists just have the words tattooed on their foreheads?
“I’d kill for a cigarette right now,” Gabriel mumbled, tossing back the rest of his drink. It didn’t hit his head like it used to.
“It won't have any affect on you now.” Donovan replied, “it will merely serve to make you smell of smoke.”
Gabriel shrugged, “I like the taste.” He continued scanning the people around them, closing his eyes to focus on one or the other every few minutes to see if he could pick out any incriminating thoughts. The worst he could find was a wife-beating alcoholic tossing back colitas with his piece on the side. Was that enough to cost the guy his life?
Redirecting his attention back at Donovan, but keeping the guy in mind, Gabriel scowled at his maker, “this--how the hell am I going to do this? Follow him to the john?” It was beginning to feel like his stomach was eating itself, and he was reminded again of the chick he’d lost control with at the other bar.
“You could do that or threaten him, challenge him to a fight or wait until he goes to leave and follow.”
He supposed it was a stupid question. “Alright, I guess I’m going in.” His phone was buzzing in his pocket again, but Gabriel ignored it in favor of tipping the bartender before he slipped away and navigated through a group of barely-legal drunks stumbling towards the bathroom together. Gabriel’s target had decided to come up for air from his girlfriend’s reddened, patchy neck. Picking a fight the old fashioned way seemed too easy, so, instead, he rapped his knuckles on the table to get the girl’s attention.
“Hey, why don’t you ditch the geezer?” Gabriel asked, putting on his best fake smile. He probably looked like the world’s biggest douchebag right now, which was the goal. Should’ve popped up his collar too.
The man glared up at him, “who the hell do you think you are, jackass?”
“Whoa there,” Gabriel held his hands up in front of him, “take it easy, old-timer, just trying to show your daughter a good time.”
The man slammed his hands down on the table, spilling his beer across the wood surface, “what you say to me, boy?” He got to his feet, lip curled back in a snarl. It was not a flattering look.
Throughout the exchange, the eye candy at the table remained quiet, her expression quickly shifting from one of mild interest in Gabriel to nervous fear when her companion locked eyes with her for a split second.
“I said you’re a fat old fuck,” Gabriel pressed on, his smile growing wider and more vicious. He hadn’t been on any hunts in awhile, it’d be good to throw in a few punches before he went in for the kill.
The bartender’s voice cut through the bar, somehow making it over the music and the sounds of conversation, “hey! You two! Take it outside!”
The man growled, “yeah, I'll take it outside alright.” He grabbed Gabriel by the collar of his jacket, jerking him toward the door. He had no doubt in his mind he could break the guy’s wrist if he just gave it one good twist, but that would cause even more of a scene.
Gabriel cast one look back at Donovan, not quite sure how they’d cover this up later. If the older vampire could mess with people’s heads, could he really do it to enough people for this asshole to go unnoticed when he went missing?
Once they were safely outside, Gabriel immediately shoved the guy off of him so he could remove his jacket to prevent staining, another part of his mind beginning to take over. It was like he’d begun to shut something off inside himself, the minute he decided he was going to eat this guy. He didn’t care about wrong or right. He just wanted blood.
The man pulled his hands up, balling them into fists, “let's go pretty boy!”
“How much does she cry?” Gabriel asked, abrupt and biting, “your wife. When you rough her up at night. She know about your little piece of ass in there?” He tossed his jacket to the ground, gauging the man’s facial expression as he spoke.
The man swung, lip pulled back in a snarl, “you son of a bitch!”
Gabriel didn’t move, didn’t flinch. He let the fist cup him in the ear, and then immediately lashed out. It was almost scary how quick he was able to move, and how little the punch actually hurt. He caught the man’s arm and held tight to it, squeezing until he could feel his own nails cutting into thick skin. Gabriel tasted iron on the air.
The man let out a whimpering cry, trying to pull away, “lemme go!” he swung with his other hand, trying to beat on him, to pry his fingers off. The harder he fought, the more excited Gabriel got, and the louder the sound of the man’s pumping heart seemed to get. Then, that was all he could hear as he felt his own fangs cutting into his bottom lip.
“Shhhh,” Gabriel whispered, pulling him closer and sealing a hand over his victim’s mouth before he could actually start screaming for help. It was already a blessing nobody had rushed out of the bar yet to see the fight. Not even this guy’s girlfriend. Fights were probably so routine out here that they just didn’t care.
He had the man’s arms pinned behind his back now, somehow wrestling with his one free hand to manage that seemingly impossible task. Super-human strength had its benefits.
Licking his lips, Gabriel leaned close to the man’s neck, ignoring the stale beer stench mixed with BO. He needed this. There weren’t any good reasons that came to mind in the moment to fight it. Belatedly, he realized he should at least try to get better cover in case anyone did decide to come watch them, so Gabriel drug the man behind a large pickup truck. It was as easy as carrying a rag doll, even with his victim kicking and screaming through Gabriel’s hand that still firmly kept his head in place so his neck was exposed.
He had just barely nicked the skin. Could feel his prize waiting beneath the surface, taste it, when Gabriel’s phone buzzed in his pocket, and the spell of the moment was shattered. He cursed under his breath, shoving the man up against the pickup truck beside them with one arm pinning his chest while he used his free hand to fish out the fucking cell phone.
“Hello?”
“Gabe? I'm glad you answered,” it was Lee and honestly, Gabriel found himself annoyed by the fact his meal was being interrupted, “listen, something weird is going on.”
“That’s news?” Gabriel snarked, looking back at the man he’d pinned to the truck. The fight had gone out of him by now, but he looked like he was getting ready for a good scream if Gabriel didn’t end this soon. “Did you need something, Lee?” He focused his gaze on his victim, locking eyes with him as a warning, only--shit, was he really going to go through with this? In an instant, he was his old self, and the thrill he’d gotten from beating the shit out of this guy suddenly came with a sharp pang of guilt to accompany it.
Gabriel dropped his phone and stepped back from the man, letting him collapse to the ground. Then, Gabriel ran. He didn’t have a clue where he was going.