If he wasn’t careful, Gabriel was sure he’d probably turn into a raging alcoholic soon. His rekindled passion for cigarettes was certainly becoming a problem. What could he do though? He couldn’t chomp down on what he really wanted. So the Camels were the best substitute he had. At least they kept him busy.
He’d had to drive Danny home earlier, left him at his apartment to sleep off the beer. One night without a couple of guardians at his door wasn’t going to do any harm. Actually, Gabriel felt pretty good right now. Maybe it was all of that adrenalin from his river dive earlier, but for once he wasn’t thinking about blood. Okay, he was, but not nearly as much.
This would just be Danny and Gabriel’s little secret, he thought, pulling into his parking space. He didn't expect what happened next, didn’t expect the pain to the back of his head or the appearance of two sets of boots when he hit the ground on his knees.
“Let’s get this done.” One of them, black boots, said.
“Why all the rush?” The other one, gray boots complained, “it’s dark out, we haven’t had a good kill in ages.”
Gabriel, biting back his sudden fear, tried to push himself to his feet. Suddenly he didn’t feel nearly as invulnerable as he had at the river.
“Promised we’d do it quick; you wanna piss him off this time?” As black boots spoke, gray boots gave Gabriel a quick kick to the ribs. Just for good measure, he went for a second, and then a third kick until Gabriel fell back down, trying to curl himself into a ball to protect himself. He was too weakened by the crack to the back of his head. He was sure he had a concussion.
“It’ll be just between you and me. He’s hours away now, not like he’ll find out.” Gray boots laughed, then, “c’mon, don’t you want to try out that new set of knives? They cut pennies pretty good, I’ll bet they’re great on bloodsuckers.”
Black boots looked conflicted for a moment before glancing over his shoulder, “I bet you're right, alright, alright, fine, talked me into it. Dammit Jim.” It sounded like this was a conversation they'd had before. Between the haze of pain and the sudden rush of anger Gabriel felt at his own helplessness, it was hard to think, but he immediately knew this sort. They had to be hunters. Not the kind who did it for the money alone, or for the sake of humanity, but because they liked it. They’d skin cats when they were kids, corner little girls on the schoolyard when nobody was looking. Carve up their own grandmothers if they didn’t get caught. Hunting was just an easy way to torture something almost human. They were in it for the thrill.
Black boots headed for their truck as Jim nudged him with his foot, “gotta put ya down like a rabid dog, can't have you runnin’ around eating people, now can we?”
As witty as he’d like to be, all Gabriel could hiss between his teeth were the words “fuck you,” and he didn’t think they deserved a better line than that. Unfortunately, that earned him a kick to the face.
“Wes? Hey, what's takin’ you so long?”
“I can’t find my--” He was cut off mid-sentence. Just as Jim was pulling his foot back for another kick, Gabriel lashed out and sank his teeth into the toes, biting through rubber and leather, right into the bastard’s foot. Gabriel could taste blood, and if he had the strength to stand right now, he’d taste a lot more than just the small amount seeping through Jim’s shredded sock.
Jim screamed, and that was immensely satisfying.
The sound of a body hitting the ground beside him made Jim freeze and Gabriel turn his gaze to see what had happened. Wes lay there, eyes glassy, his head laying at an odd angle.
“Gabriel, are you alright?” That voice could only belong to one person, Donovan, who was standing behind Jim, the human's arms locked behind him as the vampire restrained him.
Reluctantly, Gabriel pried his jaw from Jim’s boot, spitting out a piece of leather that had gotten caught between his teeth.
“I’m fine,” he lied, head pounding and teeth aching to shred far more than just old boots or socks. His ribs ached. His back. Everything.
“Get your hands offa me!” Jim struggled but Donovan held him easily.
“Hush or I'll start by breaking your arm.” Donovan was so calm as he spoke, unfazed, “Gabriel, are you tired of fighting yet? More of these hunters will come, I cannot stop them all. Is it not time to end this?”
He might have been able to stave the hunger off a little longer, fight this, find some excuse not to drink, but the taste of blood still fresh on his tongue and lips was driving Gabriel mad. His injuries weren’t helping, either. The pain didn’t distract, it only added an extra edge to his need to kill. He could feel himself slipping away, and didn’t even have the desire to fight this anymore.
Still, he didn’t want to say it. Didn’t want to admit he was losing. Gabriel hoped just one plaintive look at Donovan, and then the man he was restraining, would do all the talking for him.
Donovan brought the man closer, “it's alright, this doesn't make you weak. You've held out longer than most. Just tell me what you need.”
“Blood,” Gabriel relented, cursing himself, “I need blood.”
Donovan forced the man to his knees, using one hand to wrench his head to the side, “come, drink.”
Jim was struggling now, shouting angrily and demanding to be released. The pair ignored him, neither seeming to even hear him, as he was held firmly.
Now that he was that much closer to his meal, he could smell the blood pumping beneath the bastard’s skin, it was that much harder to even think this was wrong. Gabriel wanted this. Needed it. More than ever.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
The skin seemed to tear like rice paper, and once he felt the first mouthful of blood pouring into his mouth, Gabriel’s arms seized forward to wrap around his prey, holding Jim even tighter as angry shouts melted into agonized screams. Donovan released the human, his fingers moving up to stroke through his hair. Soft words and sounds of encouragement made the meal taste even better.
Once the flow of the blood began to slow, and Jim ceased struggling, too weak to fight, it was like flipping a switch. Gabriel’s desperate grasp on his humanity he’d been fighting so hard to keep simply disappeared. He didn’t care anymore. Didn’t know why he cared. This just felt so right.
Donovan smiled at him, his fingers trailing down his cheek, “how do you feel? Better?”
Tearing himself from the hunter’s neck, Gabriel let him fall to the ground. Dead. Spent. As worthless now as he’d probably been in life.
“That was--” Gabriel rasped, “incredible.”
The elder vampire couldn't help but laugh as he sat down on the pavement beside the freshly turned vampire. Gently he reached out and stroked his fingers through his hair, “I'm glad you finally made the right decision but we should go, we need to take care of the bodies before your hunter friends come.”
Gabriel gave him a sidelong glance, neither trying to move away or fight him now. Still, that didn’t mean he was exactly happy about this disaster of a night.
“Do you have a spare shirt?” He plucked at his collar, looking down at the bloody mess he’d made. Of course he’d had to wear white today.
“Yes,” he motioned toward his car, “there's something for you to wear in my car, I knew what was bound to happen when I got here.”
Gabriel scowled, eyeing Donovan up and down once he’d managed to climb to his feet. Everything still ached, but the pain seemed to be washing away by the second as the stolen blood washed through his system, baptizing and renewing him from the inside out.
“You knew they were here?” Gabriel asked, not quite accusing him.
“No, I felt your distress while on my way home from picking up Ruben at the hospital. You were fortunate I was in the area or else it may have taken me longer to get here and you would have been at their mercy.”
Gabriel relaxed a little. Right now he just didn’t have it in him to get pissed off at the man who’d saved his life. He was right. One look at the twisted bodies on the ground was a stark reminder. If these two hadn’t come after him, others would. He wasn’t one of them anymore, and frankly, he didn’t want to be.
“Thanks,” Gabriel mumbled, stripping off his shirt. The older vampire probably didn’t want bloodstains in his car.
“It’s no trouble at all,” Donovan walked to the car, opening the trunk before holding out a crisp white button up shirt, “change while I take care of the bodies.”
----------------------------------------
Getting old. Being old. Ruben had not enjoyed either of the two. Seeing his master as young and healthy as he’d been the day they met was a painful reminder of what Ruben had lost. Seeing a second person join his master’s ranks, an ill-mannered hunter with poor taste and attitude--it was almost unbearable.
Banished to the backseat, because he was in no condition to drive, Ruben had watched the entire exchange through his tinted window with a bitter taste in his mouth. Life had not been good to him for his loyalty, and it was only getting worse. Gabriel slid into the front seat without a word while Donovan loaded the bodies into the trunk.
“What does it feel like?” Ruben couldn't help but ask, his voice was soft but he knew Gabriel could hear him.
It wasn’t until they were well away from the apartment complex and headed towards the freeway that the former hunter finally decided to respond, “I killed a man, and I felt nothing.” He knew very well that wasn’t what Ruben had asked him, and the old man was about to say as much to clarify, when Gabriel spoke up again, “it’s like a fever breaking without the bad part. I don’t feel cold. I don’t feel hot. I just feel better. Better than I’ve ever felt.”
Oh what Ruben wouldn't give to feel better. He rubbed at his chest, perhaps with some rest he would feel a little better, not that resting so far had helped. These days resting just made him more aware how tired he was, and settling into a comfortable seat only left him worrying how hard it would be to stand up again.
“Where are we going?” Gabriel prompted Donovan, speaking to the master like an equal. Surely that wouldn’t be tolerated.
“Home,” he replied, eyes on the road, “after I get you and Ruben settled I'll take care of the bodies.”
Gabriel peered out his window, “my home’s back there.”
“Not anymore, you can't stay there. We will go back for whatever you want but you won't be able to maintain your apartment.” Donovan was completely calm, as if he wasn't telling Gabriel he had to just up and leave. There was the distinct possibility Ruben was about to witness a very nasty argument. At least he’d get some entertainment this evening.
Letting out a deep, resigned breath, Gabriel looked back at Donovan, “yeah. I guess you’re right. Louise is gonna want to kill me.”
“I will not allow that to happen,” he finally pulled into the driveway, “I have a room prepared for you, we will need to begin lessons on your new state of being.”
“I guess I should just be glad you’re not locking me in the basement,” Gabriel replied, a dry humor to his tone. He didn’t sound especially excited to be eternally young, strong, powerful, or under the protection of an experienced mentor. The whole business was wasted on him. Why couldn’t the master have just eaten this hunter and been done with it?
“Ruben, now that's just uncalled for.” Donovan looked at him in the rearview mirror before turning the car off and opening the door, “let’s get you both inside. Gabriel, if you wouldn't mind assisting Ruben inside, it would be greatly appreciated.”
At a loss for words, the old man could only sputter, “I--I, master, I wasn’t--I didn’t--” he sighed, “I am merely tired.”
Gabriel pushed open his own door, giving them both a very odd look, “do I want to know what just happened?”
“Ruben is merely frustrated that he has grown old.” Donovan shook his head as he spoke before looking at Ruben, “you do recall which room is for Gabriel, yes? I need to take care of the bodies.”
The irony of being spoken of like that by a man who looked young enough to be--well, Ruben hated to think about it, but young enough to be his great grandson, did not escape him. Nor Gabriel, apparently, who by now had managed to hop out of his seat and open Ruben’s own door to offer him an arm.
“At least you’ve got a heartbeat,” Gabriel remarked, not even remotely sympathetic. Very well. They had never cared to form any sort of friendship. If Ruben could casually ponder the young man’s demise, he supposed Gabriel had every right to joke about his own. That didn’t stop him from giving the former hunter a very dignified snort in response as he batted Gabriel’s hand away.
“I am still very capable of getting out of a car on my own.”
“Make sure he doesn't do anything foolish while I'm away,” Donovan got back into the car, “and make him show you which room is yours.”
Ruben did his best to get to the front door at least before Gabriel could catch up to him, but it wasn’t an easy feat with his blasted knee acting up again and his aching back reminding him exactly why he’d made it a point to keep a cane handy whenever he traveled.
“What’s he going to do, stake me?” Gabriel scoffed, clearly enjoying Ruben’s bad mood and egging it on. Frankly, the idea of a good stake had its merits.
Donovan shook his head, “he might try,” he replied, starting the car and pulling away.