Heart of the Night Part 16

Disjointed thoughts scattered through his mind as he struggled to wake. Why was he so tired? Why couldn't he move his legs? Had there been a carriage accident? Where was Vachel? Shifting, a frown crossed his pale features at the feeling of something damp soaking through his breeches to his thigh and a sharp pain shot through his shoulder. A low cry escaped his lips as Quatre opened his eyes.

It was dark all around him, no matter how hard he strained to see, there was not a shred of light to aid him. He felt carefully behind him, wincing at the soreness in his shoulder, re-injured by whatever had happened to him. As his fingers slid across the damp, rough surface of stone he realized that the reason he couldn't move was because there was a heavy weight lying across his lap.

"Vachel?" He whispered in the dark, his hand moving downwards.

He recoiled in shock when his fingers came in contact with long hair rather than Vachel's short locks. Long and silken in places and matted and stiff in others; a coppery tang reached his nose as his fingers found a slender arm, enclosed in a short, puffy sleeve and then a soft rounded breast. He then became even more aware of the dampness on his legs, jerking his hand back as he realized that the person lying across his lap was a woman and the dampness was her blood. Hesitantly he found her face and held still fingers over her lips. Not a trace of breath.

"No... no... no..." He whispered, panic sweeping over him. Moving quickly he shifted her limp form to the floor and knelt beside her, his fingertips finding her throat. Nothing. "Ah... no!" Whoever she was, she was dead. And not long dead at that, he realized. Her skin still held a trace of warmth, her limbs still supple.

Tears pricked at Quatre's eyes as he gently felt around, arranging the long skirt of her dress around her legs and folding her arms across her waist. Smoothing her matted hair from her face, he staggered to his feet and waited a moment for the dizziness that the sudden movement in the dark had caused.

There had been a wall at his back. He'd be best off to start there. Reaching carefully behind him, his fingers struck the damp stone again and he drew himself to the wall. Moving slowly, he crept along the wall, feeling the surface carefully until he'd reached the final corner. One small door and it had been locked... nothing on the walls that he could tell. Sliding down the wall, he drew his knees to his chest. He was in some sort of cell.

"Giving up that easily?" A voice, low and smooth as silk washed over him.

Quatre gasped and jerked back against the wall. "Who." His eyes searched unseeing in the dark.

There was a soft rustle in the further corner, followed by a low laugh. "I would have thought that Barton would have chosen someone with more spine."

He pressed closer against the wall, is heart pounding in his ears as the voice seemed to move closer and closer.

"I can smell your fear."

Quatre gasped and scrambled away as the voice sounded next to his ear. His eyes searched frantically in the darkness, ears strained for the slightest sound, all his senses were alive. He realized with increasing dread as he could pick up no sense of the other being in the room, that he was as Trowa was. Was this the danger that Trowa had been so concerned about? His eyes leapt towards a faint sound and he flinched as a bright light flared in the dark.

Glittering amber eyes met his as a lantern glowed softly on the floor in front of him. Tendrils of black hair fell against milky white skin as those eyes coldly, emotionlessly studied him. "You're nothing more than a baby," His voice crept over the blonde like the smoothest of velvet. He reached out, caressing Quatre's face with an icy finger. "I'll bet you're untouched. I can't imagine that Barton would be interested in you. You hold nothing that he would desire." He slid his hand down to toy with the buttons of Quatre's shirt. "Ah... I see in your thoughts that I am mistaken on at least one thing." He leaned in, his breath falling across the blonde's skin. "You've at least known the touch of a lover and it wasn't Barton." He laughed.

He stood, lifting Quatre with one hand as effortlessly as a rag doll. "At least he still adheres to my lessons. Poor idiot never figured out the difference." His gaze swung around the room as his lips turned upwards in a sarcastic smirk.

"What makes you think you know Trowa so well?" Quatre cried trying to free himself from the man's iron grip.

"My little innocent. I am the one that made him. I was his first lover and only true love. I know every little nuance about him and I have come to retrieve him." His cold eyes settled on the blonde again. "You seem to possess more strength than your small frame hints at... I think my beautiful fledgling will enjoy toying with you and your companion. She certainly received much entertainment from your other friend."

Quatre gasped, cold spikes of dread lancing his body as his eyes strayed to the floor. "No." He whispered as he looked upon the pale face of the woman who shared his cell. Shock flooded his senses. There was really no hope for them was there? He could still hear the cold taunts of his captor, but it was as he was hearing them from far away.

Adrienne, he sobbed silently. I'm so sorry... we never thought ... in all their plans, he had never even considered that this pair would go after Adrienne. That she would be in any danger.


Outside the city, Trowa stopped and lifted his head, tilting it sideways, listening intently. Rickard, the young mortal traveling with him, stood a few feet away, knowing better than to interfere with whatever the somber brunette was attempting to do, despite his own impatience to be underway again.

They had spent the entire previous night searching and had found nothing. Now that the moon had risen again, the dark-haired man was determined to not spend another such night. If this vampire he traveled with didn't start making some progress soon, he was ready to strike out on his own. No matter how dangerous Lord Barton thought this other one was, he felt he could face him.

After all, he had spent his entire youth learning how.

"Don't even think about it," Trowa finally spoke evenly. "If you go alone, you surely will die."

"And I won't if I accompany you?"

I can't guarantee that either, but at least your chances are better." Trowa's eyes scanned the dark landscape. "We go in that direction." His arm swept out towards the east.

"You found them?" Rickard's voice held a trace of eagerness.

"No, I found Quatre and something's wrong." He had felt the overwhelming despair and terror that Quatre was feeling. "I believe they are with him; at least one of them."

Rickard frowned as he moved to follow. "What about Vachel Roche? Is he there too?"

"I don't know."

"What do you mean? You can locate one and not the other??" The man snapped. "Are other lives that unimportant to you; that you would only search for one?"

Trowa stopped and glared back at him, his green eyes flashing in the dim light of Rickard's lantern. "No... I have no connection with Lord Roche; only Quatre."

"You've fed from him!" The dark-haired man gasped in horror. "You actually fed from the person you claim to love???"

"I never claimed love for him and it was necessary." No emotion touched the quiet reply. Trowa's voice was as dead as his body should have been.

"You're ignorant if you think your feelings aren't obvious!" Rickard responded. "Will you curse him the same way you were; just to keep him with you?" His voice betrayed his disgust at the thought.

Trowa's eyes narrowed and he leaned forward, his breath floating across Rickard's face. The young man recoiled in shock only to find the brunette's hand on the back of his neck, holding him fast as he felt the grazing of razor sharp teeth across his throat.

"You insist on continuing to try and provoke me... even though you know what I am." Trowa whispered, his voice taking on a mesmerizing effect. "I have never made anyone like myself. I will never. Not even him; not even to save his life." His fingers tightened. "I will watch him die before I condemn him to such an existence." His tongue tasted the blood that seeped slowly from Rickard's skin, where his teeth barely pricked. "I have listened to you enough. Find your way to them if you must... but you will do it without me."

He was free. Gasping Rickard stumbled backwards and fell to the ground, his hand clutching his neck where Lord Barton had tasted his blood. Gasping he realized that the brunette hadn't actually drank from him, only sipped, as it were. Not even enough to weaken; only to scare. Then looking around he also realized that he was utterly alone. As quickly as Lord Barton had released him, he had also left him behind; using his preternatural gift of speed to disappear.

He'd find him though. He was not going to allow the vampire to fight this battle without him. Not when one of the people involved was so very important to him. Reaching into his bag, his fingers moved along the cracked binding of an ancient book. Besides, he had a feeling that he has something that Lord Barton would very much like to see.


Quatre flinched angrily as icy fingers trailed lightly across his bare chest. Glaring at the man, his eye flashed with defiance at what he knew was in store for him. He could see it in the horror across the room. He wouldn't cower though. He would face this as bravely as he could. It was the only thing he could do for Adrienne and Vachel.

Vachel, his heart constricted painfully as he looked on the limp form of his lover. Bound to chains on the wall opposite him, his head forward so that the blonde couldn't see his face. His near naked body covered in bruises, scratches and bites; it was obvious that the young female, Bella, had had her fun with him. The only indication that Quatre got that the dark-haired man was even living was the barely perceptible rise of his shoulders as he struggled to continue breathing and the slight tremor that shook his fingers every so often.

He'd been weakened slowly, to the point of being unable to resist her any longer. And then he'd been left there, a silent command for Quatre to obey them. And a warning that if he didn't, the young female would happily finish the job. Even now Quatre could sense her eager presence in the shadows of the room as she awaited her master's command.

Nakki, he'd finally spoken his name to the blonde, lifted Quatre's chin with his fingertips, his teeth scraping along his skin. "Call him." He whispered and Quatre felt the agony of his flesh being pierced. "I know he's fed from you. You can bring him to me."

Lights danced before the blonde's eyes. This was all the torture and none of the ecstasy that he had experienced at Trowa's hands. This creature did nothing to dull the pain of the tearing skin, or the feeling of his very life being pulled from him. He enjoyed the sufferings of his prey. What truly frightened Quatre was not the thought of dying at Nakki's hands, or even the thought of possibly becoming like this man. It was the undercurrent of something else. He feared the dark pleasure he found in the pain that ripped at him.

"No." He gasped.

"Idiot," Nakki hissed his golden eyes narrowing. "Do you even know what I can do to you?"

"I... do... not... care!!" He ground out, his body jerking as Nakki's teeth sunk deeper into his flesh, his hands lightly brushing along the blonde's hip.

Drawing back and idly licking at the bright liquid staining his lips his eyes traveled the length of Quatre's form. "Ah.I see you enjoy my kiss." He said darkly, his fingers stroking along Quatre's stomach, barely brushing his rigid flesh. At the blonde's glare of anger and the recoiling of his body, Nakki chuckled. "You truly are innocent aren't you? There's a very fine line between pain and pleasure; just enough of one brings about the other." Pressing against Quatre's body, he breathed against his chest, lapping at his salty skin. "Many a person has not only found themselves excited on the verge of their own death. Most of those same people find the ultimate satisfaction in pain. Shall I show you?"

"Get your hands from me!" Quatre fought against his bonds.

Nakki's golden gaze met Quatre's livid blue ones and he smiled slowly. "Do you know what happens when a mortal lies with an immortal young innocent?" At Quatre's horrified look he laughed. "We can still feel physical pleasure that same as you can." He reveled in the trembling of Quatre's taut frame as he ran his hands along the insides of his legs. "But, if a young fledgling doesn't learn control early on, it's a sad affair for his partner. Barton was such a wonderful student. I taught him carefully, conditioned him."

Quatre clenched his eyes closed, somehow sensing what the dark-haired man was about to say. Trowa. His mind mourned.

"Thanks to my careful instruction, the man has no sense of how to control his needs. If he were to lie with you, he would not be able to control his hunger. He'd rip you apart. It was that savagery I saw in him that made me seduce him to me. I relished the thought that I could turn that beautiful creature into the perfect monster."

Quatre cried out, his back arching from the wall as Nakki sank his teeth into the tender flesh around his nipple, drawing on the nub and at his blood at the same time. Strong hands crept along the front of his breeches and he fought desperately with himself to feel nothing. He would not succumb to the dark, piercing pleasure he felt beneath the burning pain. He would find some way to fight.

His head jerked back, striking the stone wall behind him. In the haze of pain, he felt his body stirring as Nakki's hands skillfully caressed him to life. He let out an unwilling moan, pressing his hips forward as the man's teeth sank into his shoulder. He didn't know how to fight him.

Quatre! The blonde stiffened at the sound of Trowa's voice echoing in his head. Quatre! Where are you? Reach out for me... think of me... let me know where they have you!

This couldn't be real, he thought to himself as he felt himself reaching with his thoughts.

"Yes," Nakki's tongue flickered across his skin. "Bring him to me. Then we shall both enjoy you before I reclaim him for myself."


Trowa stopped dead still in the night, his senses reaching out. He'd felt a response, a dim flicker of awareness from Quatre. It hadn't been much, but it had been enough. His face grew cold as he untangled the emotions that had reached him.

Rage coursed through him as he sped forward towards where his old lover now toyed with the young man that held his heart.

For four hundred years he had been building his strength. He would not wait any longer. It was time that Nakki paid for everything he had done to him and the ones he had cared for.

He would see him destroyed.



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