Dean sprang to his feet, pausing to put on a little show of the vodka going to his head before he steadied himself. Truth be told, he was taking care to block Jak from view of any curious patrons. Just a moment is all it took for the older man to simply slip out of existence as he dematerialised into the shadows, awaiting Dean's rendezvous outside the club. Slipping out of his denim vest, he spread the garment over the table to make sure people knew the booth was taken and moved in for the kill. Thankfully, he could avoid the grinding and groping of the dance floor, instead making a straight line to the bar. A group of young women were approaching too but a quick increase in his steps and he was able to slip in beside the youth before the girls can block him off.
Dean couldn't help but let his eyes stray over the target as he waited for one of the bartenders' attention. He was a little shorter than the blond, his black hair, fluffy and unkempt, framing his soft, pale face with beauty spots dotted on his cheeks like an aristocrat. He was unusually handsome - his skin didn't show the usual blemishes of city life. The dark eye circles from late nights and early mornings or the dull, dehydrated complexion of a dirty metropolis were curiously absent. It only took Dean a moment to realise he was probably a country boy visiting the city; after all, he was incredibly out of place among the other revellers. What particularly drew Dean's attention was the powerful aroma of a deep, woody cologne dancing through the air with hints of spice and gold; a far cry from the usual cheap perfumes or body sprays he was used to in these night clubs. As Dean shifted closer to the raven-haired beauty, he inhaled deeply, letting the expensive scent fill his nostrils.
Incredible, he thought.
A few minutes later and one of the busy bartenders had taken Dean's money in exchange for a fresh glass of vodka. He turned, pretending to retreat to this booth. A gentle jolt of his elbow careened into the young man's arm. Surprisingly, he didn't react immediately to the collision. Instead, he remained staring at the floor as though lost in thought, oblivious to the nightclub around him.
"Shit!" Dean exclaimed, throwing his free hand up by way of apology. The smaller man still didn't respond and Dean pondered if he could even hear him over the music. Leaning in a little closer, breathing in that deep, dark cologne, he continued, "are you okay? I didn't hurt you there, did I?" That scent was to die for.
The pale man took another few awkward seconds before snapping out of his trance-like state. He cast his eyes up towards Dean, his expression blank before his eyes suddenly widened.
"Oh my! My utmost apologies! I must have been in your way." The accent was familiar but Dean couldn't quite place it. The blond was too fixated on his deep blue eyes - they were...unusual to say the least.
In the dark club, his pupils should have been dilated but they were pinpoint, as though he was staring directly into sunlight. Dean had never seen eyes like these before - not even Jak was immune to the effect of darkness on his eyes - but there was nothing else unusual about the young man. The eyes took him by surprise but Dean knew to relax; it was either an unfortunate eye condition or, given their location, drugs. Threat was something he would have picked up on instantly - vampires have keen sixth senses for danger that humans lack. A human would feel uneasy over things that don't actually present a threat, such as these strange eyes, but then happily walk right into the arms of a vampire without a second thought.
Dean held his gaze confidently for a few moments before the shorter man's cheeks began to flush and his attention snapped back to the floor.
Trying to keep it cool, eh? Dean thought. Cute.
"You okay?" the taller man asked, "You look kind of lonely. Want some company?"
"I... I am uncertain if that would be..." The pale man didn't finish his sentence, instead seeming to lose his focus once more. He was a shy one - Dean's favourite type. They always seemed drawn to his cocky attitude, their introversion drawing them to his confidence like a magnet. The cue was obvious and so Dean took charge of the conversation, emboldened by the stammering shyness.
"If you're lonely, you're welcome to come have a few drinks with me," he lifted his hand, swirling his vodka around the glass before taking a swig. The sharp, smooth taste filled his mouth as he threw his head back, emptying the glass in one movement. "I'm kinda new to this city anyway," he continued, eyeing the now empty glass before sitting it on the bar behind them, "and you look as lost as I feel."
"I am rather new here myself, I suppose..." the dark haired man admitted. His manner of speaking struck Dean as odd - he was unusually polite and incredibly soft spoken. His low voice was little more than a murmur, barely audible to Dean. Each word was articulated with an elegance Dean couldn't quite put his finger on. Unusual for the city. Definitely a rich kid passing through.
"Your accent," the smaller man continued, "Abermijahn?"
Dead nodded.
"Aye. Moved here last month for college." It was all lies. Dean leaned back against the wooden bar, putting his weight on his elbows, thrusting his hips out a little bit.
"Yes, just as I suspected," the brunette commented, his curious blue eyes raising up to focus on Dean once more. "T'would explain your darker complexion." Strange thing to comment on, Dean thought. After all, Galisthros was a continent of many cultures and creeds.
Whatever, he thought, this guy's probably led a sheltered life.
The ashen man continued. "Perhaps you will be joining me in my studies then?"
He was a student after all then. Dean nodded but his mind blanked for a moment as he realised he couldn't recall the names of any major university or colleges in the city. Thankfully, the man didn't push him on which institution he was going to be "studying" at, instead choosing to continue introducing himself a little more. "Classical literature, philosophy and art are my fields," he explained, holding Dean's gaze in an almost uncomfortable way, "thus my usual choices for places of recreation are a little more...highbrow."
Dean nodded once more in acknowledgement as the youth shifted his weight onto his other leg again. This guy was starting to throw him off a little. Of all the men and women Dean had ensnared and led into Jak's claws, none of them had been this elegant. If he was from a well-to-do family, it certainly explained how masterfully he could maintain Dean's eyes without giving in to his otherwise nervous body language. Maybe it was time to offer a drink and see if he could gauge if the youngster was interested in him?
Just as the taller blond was about to speak, the smaller man spoke up again, this time breaking Dean's gaze and focusing straight ahead on the crowd of people dancing.
"I must apologise once more, I am afraid," he stated, "I am being especially awkward tonight, aren't I?" Dean watched, curiously, as the man bit his lip gently - a nervous reflex to control himself. "I am just not used to having anyone paying attention to me." A smile touched the corners of his rose lips. "Typically, when I confess my interests lie in books and paintings, they make an excuse to leave. I am not very impressive, you see. Certainly not by these modern standards."
"Well, you impressed me enough to catch my eye," Dean chuckled, beginning to feel at ease again but he could never completely relax in the presence of middle and upper class people.
"And you caught my eye earlier," the handsome young man confessed, "but you were with someone, were you not?" The question took Dean by surprise. Of all the years he and Jak had hunted here in this city, no one had ever noticed the pair of them. Given this guy's penchant for art, however, it made sense that he'd be more observant that most people. Still, Dean found himself flattered by the comment; he could feel a warmth flushing his cheeks as he shrugged, crossing his leopard print inked skin across his chest.
"Yeah, I was here with my buddy but he's gone to hook up with some girl."
"Ah, yes, of course... Of course."
"So, you want to have some drinks with me? Or are you too unimpressive?"
"Are you offering to buy?" A smile touched the corners of the young man's rose-coloured lips as he realised Dean was, indeed, being serious about spending time with him. "Ah, and I do not believe you told me what your name was?"
"Dean. Dean Adams." It didn't matter if the young man knew his real name; he'd most likely be dead in a few hours.
"Rei," the young man stated, finally standing up properly and putting his weight on both legs. He turned to meet Dean's gaze once more, offering a shy smile. This one wouldn't be putting up much of a fight, if any - he was too delicate, too soft.
It only took a few minutes for Dean to flag down another bartender, flashing his fake ID and ordering two double vodkas on the rocks. Vampires had a much higher tolerance to alcohol so what would get Dean tipsy would push any human to the brink of blacking out. Double vodkas all night long were no problem for him.
Turning back to the young man, Dean motioned towards the direction of the booth with a tilt of his head. Normally, he would have given the victim their drink then take them by the hand but there had been nothing to suggest Rei would be interested in a hook up, much to Dean's immense disappointment. It wasn't the first time he'd managed to coax someone into quick, dirty fun in a bathroom stall or out in the back alleys before sending them off to their deaths. Selfish, shameless but a man has certain itches that need scratched. Even with the scolding he'd get from Jak every time, it was always worth it.
Even as Dean lamented his sexual frustration he couldn't help but feel a pang of immense guilt snake its way up from the depths of his stomach. Here was a lovely young man, polite and articulate, studying arts and literature with his whole life ahead of him and Dean was going to rip it all from him.
There were certain types of people the blond could ignore his remorse for; those who struck him as rowdy, rude, nasty people. It only took a short while of conversation for Dean to be able to read most of them. Sometimes, however, he would come across someone like this, someone harmless and innocent. The inner conflict was always the same. The human part of him wanted to scream and shout at the young guy to run and leave the club as fast as he could; the vampire part of him wanted to taste that fresh, sweet blood.
As the pair sat down together in the private booth, Dean let his eyes wander over the young man properly, drinking in his appearance. Rei was much more attractive than the usual victims. Dean certainly wouldn't have minded taking him somewhere secluded, away from prying eyes. His pale skin glistened almost ethereally under the glittering strobe lights, like virgin snow reflecting the northern lights, sparkling just like his pretty eyes but still...those strange pupils felt ethereal, refusing to dilate. For the first time in so long, Dean found himself speechless as he stared across the table.
Moments like this took him back to being a teenager, free, wild, human. In a moment of weakness, confounded by this sudden mind blank, Dean smiled at Rei who unfortunately noticed...
"Your teeth," the well spoken student leaned forward on the booth table, nursing his glass between his slender fingers, "incredible..." He tilted his head slightly, trying to get a better look as Dean's mind raced. No point trying to awkwardly hide them now. Luckily, Dean's fangs were a little different from the type seen in popular movies and comic books. Rather than having large, serpentine canines, his canines and premolars were sharp and elongated, more canine in appearance. Jak, and other full-blooded vampires, on the other hand, had the traditional fangs.
It was time for some quick thinking.
"Oh, you like them?" Dean asked, raising a hand to lift his upper lip a little. As Rei nodded, he breathed a silent sigh of relief. "Special FX veneers," he continued, "cost me a pretty penny but I think they suit the vibe, y'know?"
"The vibe?"
"You know, what I've got going on: the whole...I don't know what you'd call me. Alternative? Punk? Whatever. I just like 'em." Dean had always been a little out of the ordinary, truth be told. From his peroxide mohawk mullet with the dark roots seeping through to the diamante bullring through his nose or even the myriad of ink all over his body, he'd never wanted to fit in or go unnoticed, even when he was still a young boy. He'd always tried to suppress that urge though, growing up in a strict Abermijahn household but since becoming a vampire, he'd been given a freedom he'd never experienced before: a new life.
Anything he wanted to do, he could do it.
He'd changed his entire wardrobe, getting his piercings and ink, began learning how to fight and wield weapons as though they were bolts of air in his hands and, more than anything, be his true self. He'd come out as bisexual; something that had been a crime in Galisthros up until only seven years ago.
He'd had often pondered whether his new found aggression and attention-seeking was a desperate attempt to stand out among his new people. After all, he'd already become a ghost once before when the news reports and sleuths eventually tired of him. He'd make sure people would never forget him again.
"I see," Rei lowered his eyes to his glass before slowly raising it. He pressed his lips to the rim, sipping slowly before placing it back down. "I once wrote a research paper on the Galisthroan folklore of Lamia." A slender finger began to swirl around the rim of the glass before Rei's blue eyes raised to Dean's emerald gaze. "You know, if I were a little more intoxicated, you could have fooled me into believing you were one of them but your dark skin destroys that hypothesis, does it not?" Dean tilted his head as he absorbed the student's words. He continued. "After all, the legends claimed all lamia were from the forbidden country... That is, if, they even exist in the first place." The corners of his lips curled up as he attempted to hide a smile but Dean noticed it. He was probably relishing in the chance to share his studies with someone interested in him.
Lamia were, indeed, the Galisthroan term for vampires, though the folklore built up over the centuries was horribly inaccurate. Firstly, there was nothing serpentine about vampires other than their teeth; Galisthroan culture believed that lamia were shape shifting reptiles who took the forms of humans.
Rei's comment about Dean's skin came from the notion that vampires would burn to death in sunlight; Dean's caramel skin and love of midday workouts disproved that, but he knew most full-bloods despised natural daylight.
Garlic? A staple of Abermijahn cuisine.
Iron stakes through the heart? It would kill anything with a beating heart, vampires included.
Still, this new topic of conversation was an opening allowing Dean to pry deeper into Rei. What made him so special that he was the target tonight? Dean had never understood what made the victims stand out to Jak. It certainly wasn't a random selection, as the older vampire was meticulous and calculated in his prey selection.
"Sounds like my kinda academia," Dean grinned again. He exhaled, letting his tense shoulders fall gently into the foam seat.
That was a little too close.
"Indeed," Rei began to sip from his drink again. "Did you know that tales of the lamia actually originate from before the Dark War?"
Now that comment caught Dean's attention. Vampires didn't exist before the Dark War and as for the Dark War itself, a bloody and world-shattering conflict that took place centuries ago, well that was a story for another night.
The pair sat, chatting for over an hour. Rei was fascinating - he regaled Dean with tales of his academic research and his exploits on field trips. He had a vast knowledge of things that go bump in the night and was happy to chat about the various folklore legends from all around the globe.
However, with each minute that passed, Dean could feel himself getting more antsy, shifting in his seat, scratched black fingernails tapping erratic rhythms on the table beside his now empty glass. The longer this took, the riskier it got and the last thing he wanted was to lose the opportunity to snatch Rei. Time to get moving.
"You, uh, wanna head to a smaller bar?" The blond vampire asked, his gaze wandering to the crowds of patrons on the dance floor. The busier the club got, the harder it would be to go completely unnoticed. "This place is starting to get a bit cramped for my liking."
Rei didn't respond immediately, instead tilting his head curiously as he kept those strange eyes focused on Dean.
"Why are you nervous?"
What?
"I'm a bit claustrophobic," Dean lied, "so when places get really crowded, it makes me uncomfortable."
"Oh, I am sorry to hear that, truly." A pale hand grasped the half-full glass, knocking back the contents in one swift gulp. "Let us be on our way then. As you like."
To Dean's surprise, the youth stretched his arm across the table, offering him his hand. He obliged.
How bizarre: Rei's hands were cold and clammy, his slender fingers like icicles, despite the warm stuffy air of the club. Another pang of guilt flashed through Dean's core as he was reminded that this poor youngster most likely had some sort of medical condition. First, the strange eyes and now his poor circulation. Fate was about to serve Rei another cruel blow.
In the darkness of the back alley outside Coldwoods, the pair walked hand in hand, chatting quietly about where the nearest bar was. With Rei admitting earlier that he was new to the city, it was easy for Dean to lead him astray. After all, the city of Kard had once been Dean's home and he'd been fond of late nights roaming the streets. He knew most of the alleys like the ink on his skin, as his tattooed fingers intertwined with Rei's.
The late October air bore the bitter cold of Winter's coming wrath and yet, Dean could still feel the unearthly chill of Jak's presence lurking in the shadows. It'd be over soon; it always was.
Their modus operandi was simple: Dean would lead the victim somewhere secluded and Jak would tear the fabric of reality asunder with his claws, opening a portal back to the shrouded kingdom of Gethmane. There would be no evidence. As undead, vampires didn't show up in CCTV footage or photographs or even live footage. There was never anything to trace back to them, nothing to show where their victims had gone and besides, Gethmane had been sealed off from the rest of the world for over five hundred years.
Nothing would stop their mission. They simply swept in, seduced their prey and sunk beneath the dark waters, never to be seen again....until next time. It was a perfectly oiled machine.
The dull thud of the bass emanated from the club as passing cars disappeared into the night, oblivious that they had almost witnessed something horrific. Not that it would have mattered though - no evidence other than the hysterical testimony of a tired driver. The police would write it off as the ramblings of some crazy person who saw the reports of a missing young man on the news.
Suddenly, the younger man stopped in his tracks, crossing his arms across his chest for warmth. Dean continued on a few steps, the chains on his leather combat boots clinking against the damp concrete. They'd been fortunate to miss the earlier rainfall. Somewhere nearby, the unusual pair could hear the brakes of an underground train screech to a halt.
"Well, are you not going to call out to him?" Rei's voice bled into the darkness, soft and smooth against the bass emanating from the nightclub. "It is intensely rude to keep a man waiting."
Dean paused. That accent he couldn't place earlier: it was Gethmanic.
The realisation punched him in the gut, almost winding him as his pulse began to race, breathing suddenly irregular and fast.
The blond turned to face the smaller man, expecting to see him shivering for warmth in the cool air but instead, he was standing confidently, arms folded, weight shifted to his right leg as his gaze bore straight into Dean's soul.
He noticed it instantly: the eyes. Instead of that pretty cornflower blue, they were now a deep sanguine, glowing in the night's shadows, almost like LEDs.
Another full-blooded vampire.
Dean didn't reply - instead his mind began to race as he let his eyes scan over the young man. There were no vampires outside of Gethmane. It was physically impossible: none of them could cross running water without Jak's portals, and so they were condemned to lead their lives within the continent's confines. There was no way another vampire could be wandering around another continent, mingling with humans and blending in with them like a chameleon.
Dean mentally scolded himself. The clammy, pale skin, chilled like the bones of a corpse, should have been a warning sign but, perhaps in his attraction, Dean had ignored it. A medical condition, he thought, bitterly recalling his earlier pity. Undeath. A medical condition indeed...
Even though Rei's ashen skin was noticeable under the strobe lights, it didn't seem too unearthly. Now, under the clashing glow of streetlights and moonlight, it was so very obvious that he wasn't...well, alive, so to speak. He was just a little bit too perfect; his skin like porcelain, flawless and untouched by the centuries that'd passed.
"You are going to call out to him, no?" Rei's eyes narrowed a little. "Perhaps I should make you aware that I am not known for my patience. Call him or I shall."
Dean didn't reply. The edges of Rei's curled into a smile before a laugh, black as poison but somehow strangely charming bled into the bitter alley.
"Oh for the love of..." His laugh faded as he sighed dramatically, moving his hands to his hips. "Jak! You can come and collect me now! I promise I will not struggle or threaten you with beheading this time! I was a little inebriated last time, you understand!"
Threaten with...beheading?
The music from throbbing from the building ceased for a moment before continuing. Dean thought the world had frozen but the returning rhythm brought him back to reality. He closed his jade eyes a few times, feeling the sting as the cold air nipped at his tear ducts; the salty water was mixing with the smudged pencil kohl around his eyes. Opening his eyes again, he noticed the dark mass beginning to form behind Rei. Jak had answered his call.
Normally, Dean would have expected to see those vicious claws reach from the deepening black depths to pull whoever was unfortunate enough to be standing in front of the ripple but this time, no nails appeared. Instead, the portal remained opened as Rei gave Dean another smile, this time showing his long, snake-like canines. He had hidden them masterfully during their earlier conversation.
"Well, shall we? I have little desire to return but even less desire to remain here in such a dreary alley."
With that, the youngster turned on his heel and sauntered into the portal as if it was nothing.
Dean closed his eyes once more, taking a deep breath and holding the cold Galisthroan air in his lungs as he braced himself for the teleportation as he stepped into the void behind Rei.
