Disclaimer: I do not own Kindred: The Embraced or Magnificent 7.
Summary: Chris Larabee wasn't always a hard assed Marshall.
Warning: Language, Violence, Sexual Situations, Blood, Slash and Het Content. ____________________________________________________
Spring - 1980.
Chris leaned against the building, huddling under the ledge from the rain. As the loser of the coin toss, he had been the one chosen to stand outside the club for tickets. Twitching, he began to cough. He had been there for hours, and the San Francisco weather was getting to him. Chris knew it was stupid, but this was Blondie.
Several other people had been in line, but now only three remained. Two under a single umbrella, locals who kept pointing at him and laughing. The third was a man who looked to be almost twice his age. Not that Chris would ever admit to being under age, not even old enough to drive. He hated being fifteen, and the less anyone knew about it, the better.
He would have been comfortable standing under the roof of the back entrance for tickets to one of the hottest acts in the world despite the rain, but the man kept giving him a look that didn't quite sit well with him. The man kept glancing to his neck. Chris was sure he had seen the guys eyes go silver, but that couldn't have been real. Everyone knew that monsters weren't real. Maybe the guy had in some of them contacts he had seen on the TV when he was a kid.
Yeah, that had to be it.
Glancing over his shoulder, he checked out the old man again. Then did a double take. Wasn't the man further back just a second ago? A breath later, the man was standing next to him under the ledge, pulling his jacket up against the cold.
"Dreadful weather this place is having, wouldn't you say," asked the man.
Chris stared at him, his mouth slightly ajar. The stranger had dark hair, almost red in the right light. Then again, it was hard to tell in the dim light of the neon sign above them.
"Hello, my name is Ezra Standish, my friends call me Ezra." Rightly guessing the boy wasn't going to be talking, Ezra scooted in closer. "Is this your first time visiting the lovely city of San Francisco? If so, do not let the weather fool you, this place does have its good days."
This couldn't be happening. Here was what his mother had warned him about when he was a kid, all the man need do was to offer him a piece of candy and that would be it. Glancing down at Ezra's hands, he half expected to see a piece of butterscotch. Instead, they were reaching out for him. Chris jerked back, but was caught in their tight grip.
He was sure this time those silver eyes weren't contacts. Chris felt his body slowly relaxing and the world warming up. Taking a deep breath, he sighed contentedly.
"There, that's better." Ezra slid a hand up the boy's arm to cup his face. "Now, my dear youngun, what is your name?"
"Chris Larabee, sir. My friends call me Cash, as in Johnny Cash on the account that we both wear a lotta black." Smiling, Chris eased himself into Ezra's open arms. "Its been raining for two days, ever since I got here. Ain't seen this place with the sun shinin on it."
"Do not worry, Mr. Larabee, you shall see the sun shining over San Francisco, just not today." The hand stroking Chris' face curled under the boy's chin, making him look up at Ezra's eyes again. "Shall we adjourn from this god forsaken weather and enjoy a pleasant respite?"
Chris felt a moment of resistance to the suggestion causing his face to scrunch in confusion. "But the tickets. We are here to see Blondie, we drove all week to get here before they started selling them. I'm supposed to wait in line."
Ezra placed a hand over Chris' mouth. "Hush, young one, trouble yourself no longer for these tickets, I am well acquainted with the owner of this here establishment. She owes me a few favors, I will be more than happy to obtain these tickets for you if only for the pleasure of your company."
"My mother said not to go anywhere with strangers."
Chuckling, Ezra looked up at the sky. "Mothers are always telling silly musings in order to keep their hold over children. Do not fret, for I am not one of these men your mother need worry about." Wrapping his coat about them both, Ezra gently eased them out into the rain. "Come along, Mr. Larabee, I promise to take great care of you. Whatever is mine shall also be yours. Now that, you can believe."
Chris awoke on the steps of the night club with a start. Glancing down, he saw what had disturbed his sleep. A red tennis shoe kicked his leg again.
"Cash, I said wake up!"
Chris yawned and stretched, glaring at Buck. "Just what is your problem?"
"Tammy's brother is getting pissed! You've been gone for two days and tonight is the concert. We wanna know if you got the tickets." Buck tugged at his jean jacket, pulling it down closer over his sweater. "Well did ya or not?"
Ignoring him, Chris pulled his black bomber's jacket closer about him. He did a quick body check, everything was in the right place, his nipple rings, his belly ring, his cock ring, all felt normal, so no molesters. Next, he ran a hand over his head, his hair was a little shorter, may be he had a hair cut in that time, he couldn't remember. When his hand reached his right ear, he froze. Sitting in the lobe was a tiny stud. The same was in his right ear when he checked. "Ah damn it! Mom is gonna kill me!"
"Forget your mom, Cash! Did ya get the tickets?" Buck shifted again, the rain had only stopped a few hours ago, but the city was still bathed in fog and heavy cloud cover.
Scowling, he checked his jacket, the inner pockets were empty but for a small card. His shirt pockets were also empty, but his pants turned up a surprise. He sat forward and pulled out a billfold from his back pocket. It was stylized leather with a monogrammed L on the lip.
"Cool! Where'd you get that from?"
"I don't remember." Opening it, he checked the central pocket. Inside were six tickets and ten twenties. "I don't know where I got this."
"Who cares, man, you're loaded!" Buck reached out and slapped his friend on the shoulder. "Whatever you did, do it again some time! Come on, lets go tell the others you got the tickets. We'll keep the money to ourselves!" Yanking his friend up off the steps, Buck dragged the reluctant Chris down the street.
Chris caught movement in the corner of the alley, but it was gone before he could see what it was. Something came back to his mind about the missing time, but what did silver have to do with it?
Chris fell back against the patched up old couch, head reeling from the hit he had just taken. Giggling, he rubbed at his nose, it still tingled from the line he snorted an hour earlier with Cindy. Or was her name Candy? It didn't matter, the bimbo had left with Buck shortly afterwards and no one had seen them since.
Someone had popped in an old Pink Floyd album and they all decided it was the right music to set the tone for the party. Dreamily, he hummed along with it, congratulating himself on yet another passing grade on a midterm. Next year he would be a senior and all this shit would be just the icing. Giggling again, he curled on his side. Thinking about the future hurt and that made him giggle too.
Something sent a shiver down the nerves at the base of his skull. Opening his eyes, he looked up from where he had fallen over on the couch. The apartment door was open and he realized the music was no longer blaring in the back ground. Standing over him was a man that was vaguely familiar. He was holding Jimmy by the throat off the floor and choking the life from him. Chris frowned, this wasn't right. "Hey, fuckwad! Put him down now!"
Turning silver eyes on him, Ezra's narrowed. "Is this what you spend my generosity upon? This waste of human flesh and excrement is your dealer, is he not?"
"Yeah, that piece of shit is my dealer, now turn him the fuck lose or I will..." Chris was cut off when Ezra suddenly yanked him off the couch by his shirt.
"You will what, Mr. Larabee?" Shaking in visible rage, Ezra threw Chris against the far wall. Watching his favored slide down the broken plaster, Ezra's fangs descended. "Never again shall you waste what is given so freely! It is high time you found the harsh realities of the true world!" When he snapped his fingers, the shadows jumped from the walls and six hideous forms coalesced into human like figures. "Leave him, but the rest are yours to do with as you please. Careful the taint from the poisons in their blood."
Chris tried to get up, but his legs wouldn't move. With a panicked start, he realized he couldn't feel anything below his ribs. His clouded mind cleared enough for him to realize what had happened. Tears started down his cheeks. "I can't feel my legs!"
Ezra was once again standing over him. Kneeling down, he stretched out one clawed hand to Chris' face. With a snarl, he sliced the flesh in five deep grooves. "It is only the beginning of your suffering!" Another snarl and Ezra back handed him into oblivion.
Chris awoke screaming. Shaking violently, he turned over on the cot and puked up in the trash can what meager rations he had been able to keep down the previous day. Shivering because his body couldn't seem to ever get warm these days, he curled up in the scratchy navy blanket. Only half way through basic training and he was still trying to gain some weight. Knowing it was pointless to try and sleep again, he stood up and padded silently to the bathroom, one arm holding the trash can while the other held the blanket closed.
Once in the bathroom, he ran cold water from the hose into the can and then dumped the contents in the toilet. Flushing it three times, he finally got the rest of the vomit to go down. He filled the can with cleanser and more cold water and left it to soak. Looking in the mirror brought to him the image of a man twice his age, his father. Or so he thought the guy might be his father, he couldn't remember much before the past two months.
He supposed it had a lot to do with the drugs they found in his system and the needle tracks along his arm. The only ID on him was a leather billfold with a name, Chris Larabee. When the police had found him, they had assumed Chris Larabee had been the victim of a mugging and he was the mugger. Only a call from the FBI had revealed who he really was, the only survivor of a drug bender.
It didn't matter, he didn't know who this Chris Larabee person was and didn't want to either. Three days after being found, he had walked into a local recruiters office and shipped out a week later. It had taken a little pull on the recruiter's part, but he got the approval. Now here he was in Recine, Wisconsin looking like death warmed over.
Running his hands under the hot water tap, he took note of the unusual marks on his inner arms once again. It was one of memories that caused a spike of pain every time he tried to remember. Whatever had caused them had hurt like a mother fucker, but like someone used to say, the only way to overcome pain is to beat the fucker causing it.
Tracing them with his index finger, an impulse had him measuring the length of space between them. Pain shot from his eyes to his brain causing him to squeeze them shut and bite his tongue. He pressed the bites hard, memorizing the shape and spacing. Another spasm caused him to cry out.
Gritting his teeth, Chris forced his hand to continue the inspection. His touch sparked a mental image past the pain. The soft caress of lips on his arm followed by the pleasurable feeling of being bitten. Then it suddenly turned into the most excruciating feeling he had ever experienced.
Crying out, he fell to his knees. Sliding down to the floor, he curled around the base of the wash basin. Surges of pain ran up and down his body until he blacked out.
When he came to, Chris was laying on a cot in the med tent. A woman in a white cap and gown stood over him, a chart in one hand. She scratched something on the paper before glancing at him. "Good to see you are finally with us."
"How did I get here?" Swallowing, he cleared his throat.
"The Lieutenant in charge of your division brought you in. Apparently this wasn't the first time. He stuck around to watch over you for about an hour before his duties called him away. Lieutenant Standish is a very dedicated man." Running a hand through his sweaty hair, the doctor rearranged it. "I will have the nurse bring in your sponge bath. If your training is too much physically, we can get you a medical discharge."
"No! I can make it!" Grabbing her hand, Chris gripped it a little too tightly in his desperation. Blinking, he took a calming breath. "I mean no thank you, sir. I am capable of making it through the course, this is just a little flashback."
"Ah, your memory is finally returning," she inquired with a raised eyebrow.
"Yes, no, I don't think so. It was just a flash of sense memory. I know the feelings, but nothing else of what was happening." Looking away, he slowly let go of her hand. "I will make it, just give me a shot for the anemia and I will get back to my team."
"Sorry, no can do, kiddo." Her blue eyes held his, pity clearly written in them. "You've been reassigned. The Lieutenant has placed you in his staff. You will finish out basic with them then have a permanent posting under him. The General agreed, given your medical history, he thought it best."
"Right, can't have a sick kid out there in the field."
"That's right, you die and then who are we going to waste all our medical training on? Someone who is only faking it?" When Chris started to shake from coughs, she pressed him back on the cot. "Nurse! Get the Lieutenant, now!"
Chris bit his tongue in the middle of a coughing fit. By the time it had subsided, he had a mouth full of blood. He turned on his side and spit it out on the shiny boots of the approaching Lieutenant. Looking up, Chris stared into the face from his worst nightmares. This time he hid the flinch well.
"Ah, Private Larabee, still disrespecting your superiors I see." Shifting his attention from Chris to the Doctor, Ezra nodded. "Thank you, I will take it from here."
"Are you sure, he is very sick..."
Ezra's eyes went silver. "Do not question me, Doctor."
She lowered head, her own eyes flashing gold. "Yes, sir." Grabbing the nurse's arm, she stormed out of the tent with the blonde woman.
Ezra turned back to Chris, a smile on his lips. "Well, it appears that you are not recovering."
"No, sir." Chris clammed up under the scrutiny of his superior officer.
Ezra waved a hand over Chris' eyes. "Remember."
Chris shot up from his cot, blood rushing to his face in rage. "You son of a bitch! I am going to kill you!"
"Do not make idle threats, Mr. Larabee, it is unbecoming of a young man in your situation." Kneeling beside Chris' bunk, he reached out a hand to clutch his head. Ezra pulled Chris face to his own and licked the blood off his chin where it had run down from his mouth. "Even sick you are still addicting to me." Watching the human with wide, unblinking silver eyes, Ezra mapped out his skin with both hands.
"What do you want with me," Chris asked defeated. He endured the touches, raising an arm or leg when the hands sought contact. "Why don't you just leave me alone?"
"Because, Mr. Larabee, you are very special to me." Satisfied with his inspection, Ezra returned his attention to Chris' face. "Kiss me."
"No!"
"Do you wish I take my due from your arms once more? I promise to make the experience unbearable." Flashing fangs, he hissed slowly. "Do not dawdle, we have but a short time before your condition becomes irreversible."
"What if I don't want to?"
"Then you shall die, Mr. Larabee." Ezra's hands blurred then reappeared on either side of Chris' head. "You have an insidious blood poison called AIDS from your exposures. The Kindred blood I had previously given you accelerated this condition instead of burning it out. If you do not receive a new transfusion from me regularly, you will die in a matter of hours."
Chris tried to shake his head no.
"The laws of my people are very rigid, they say I can not make you one of us without your consent, but they say nothing about blood bonding you. The fact I asked you for permission is merely a formality. If you wish to continue being stubborn, that is your perogative. However, I have no such limitations." Jerking Chris' head to the side, Ezra sank his fangs into the young man's neck.
Screaming, Chris tried to fight the Kindred off him, but only succeeded in bruising his fist. After a time, his struggles began to weaken. Wrapping his arms around the now hot body holding him, Chris held on tight. In his mind he heard a lover's whisper. 'You know the way.' Sighing, Chris spread his legs.
Ezra wasted no time pushing Chris back on the cot, quickly undoing his own buckle followed by his buttons and zipper. He yanked Chris' boxers down, then off his body. Settling between the muscular thighs, Ezra groaned against his lover's skin.
Chris grew silent when he felt Ezra pushing against his ass. He gave a quick yelp when Ezra pushed past the ring of his muscles and into him. "Please."
"Almost, my beautiful devil." Ezra's hips thrusted deeply a few times before he cried out in release. Kissing Chris' neck, he wrapped his arms around the man's chest. "Forgive me, I only meant to save you."
"It's all your fault." Chris adjusted his position on the cot, still impaled by Ezra's cock. "Why couldn't you have just let me go?"
"It's the curse of my kind. We are addicted to you from the moment of our creation to the moment of our destruction. Some believe if we can find the love of just one mortal we can still be saved from the darkness." Resting his head on his lover's chest, a blood tear ran down his cheek. "If you would but let me save you, I could make all your mortal pains go away."
"You know my answer." Chris refused to look at him.
"Then you know what I must do." Waving a hand over Chris' eyes, Ezra whispered the word that nearly killed him every time he said it. "Forget."
Chris awoke to a screaming match. The heat of the jungle was ever oppressive, only this time it was made worse. His body ached in places he only heard about in health class. Memories of the previous night had him rolling over trying not to throw up the meal he had barely eaten. The tracks on his arm itched, trying to get him to remember something important.
It was the screaming that distracted him from his thoughts. His C.O. was yelling at a woman in a red kimono. Her hands were claws, and bat ears were on the side of her face. For a minute he thought he was suffering from something the natives had cooked in the lab they destroyed yesterday. When she turned cat eyes on him, he knew they were for real.
"Back away from him, you bitch, or so help you, not even Caine will protect you from my wrath!" The formerly eloquent speech of his C.O. had turned into a growling hiss. Looking at Ezra, he noted the man's eternally pale skin was changing in to an interesting freckled pattern that bore a striking resemblance to a leopard.
"You have no choice, Azriel, Nichodemus commands it. It is either that or you run the risk of the childer of Baba Yaga interfering with our clan once more. With the fall of the iron curtain, and her awakened, those demon spawn of hers will reek havoc if not for his influence." The female demon's eyes flashed blood red as she turned back to Ezra. "Do it now!"
Ezra seemed about to respond when he stopped. Shrinking in on himself, he put back on his human guise, his eyes shifting back to blue. He stuck out a hand to the demon woman. "Give me the vial, I shall see it done, but not under your direction!"
"No, I must witness the event itself." But she handed him the vial anyways. Moving off to the corner of the hut, she seemed to disappear in the shadows.
Ezra hung his head after taking the vial. Tears streaked down his face staining it blood red. "Chris, remember." Waving a hand over Chris' face, Ezra looked away.
Chris fell back on the cot, his hands curling in anger. "Did you have to wait so long this time? My body is already starting to consume itself trying to find more of your blood to heal."
"Fear not, my beautiful devil, your freedom is at hand." Foisting the vial into Chris' hand, Ezra knelt down by his cot. "I offer you one last choice. In this vial is the cure for your malady and the addiction of my blood to your system. If you would give yourself over to me fully, this potion would not be necessary..." He trailed off as Chris uncapped the vial and downed the contents.
Swallowing the last of it, Chris threw the clay container at the wall where he could sense the waiting Kindred. Glancing down at Ezra, his eyes hardened. "No! Your kind disgusts me. Get the hell out of my life and leave me alone!"
Standing up, Ezra wiped a tear from his cheek. Placing it against Chris' lips he stared into the eyes of his lover. "Very well, Mr. Larabee. I curse you, may you always remember me, my pain, and may you suffer the same." A blur of shadows and Ezra disappeared.
Chris turned his attention to the kindred in the shadows. "Go away." Laying back down, he felt her retreat into the jungles and disappear into the Columbian night.
Chris stepped off the plane, hat on his head, uniform jacket unbuttoned and hanging open. Setting down his bag, he searched the terminal for the familiar face. Seven years changed people in dramatic ways, but he was hoping Buck would still be the same boy he watched leave with the blonde while in a drugged haze. He wouldn't wish his memories and experiences on anyone.
Instead of the man he sought, he found a familiar face among the crowd. The same nurse he had first seen in the tent little over six years ago. Opening his arms, he waited for her to rush to him. He wasn't disappointed. Chris held her close, taking a deep breath of her natural perfume mixed with the medical scent. "Sarah."
"Chris! My god it is good to see you again!" Tightening her grip until she heard him gasp, she gave it all her worth. "The others didn't believe me when I told them you purposed when you were here last because no ring. But I got it last week along with the notice of your discharge papers! It is so beautiful! I just couldn't bare to wear it until you put it on my finger properly!" Letting go, she held up a package from her jacket pocket. "I got it with me right here, baby!"
"Remember to take a breath between each sentence." Chris chuckled at her sparkling expression. "Fine, but when you pass out, don't expect me to carry you."
"Fine, smart ass. Just put the ring on me already before I club you with the box." Ripping open the package, she held up the diamond engagement band to him. "Now!"
"Your wish is my command." As he finished speaking, the words rang hollow in his throat. Clearing his throat, Chris put on a smile for her. "Why don't we get this ring on your finger, lady, then get on out of this place?"
"Oh how romantic, don't you two sound like just the happiest couple." Two large arms draped around their shoulders. Grinning beneath a heavy mustache, Buck looked between the two. "So you really did rope this blond devil in, Sarah?"
"I told you, asshole!" She gave him a quick elbow to the chest. "I hope you don't mind, Chris, but Buck has been staying at our place for the past four weeks. Before you ask, yes, he made several passes at me, and no, I haven't taken him up on them. Though it was tempting, I also haven't had him clipped yet either."
"Sounds about like you, Bucklin." Chris gave Buck a friendly smile. "It's been a while."
"Yeah, Chris, it has. We were so afraid when you disappeared. Your momma about had a heart attack when she learned where you disappeared off to and why." Looking abashed, Buck then smiled at Sarah. "Chris used to be the biggest partier in his hay day. Then one day he just up and decided to straighten out and join the navy, giving up an illustrious career in law."
"It wasn't exactly my choice," Chris said under his breath, but pretended like he hadn't spoken when the other two looked at him. "Gimme that ring, lets see what I can do about shoeing you... I mean making an honest woman out of you."
"Very funny, Christopher Larabee. If you think you are getting sex after that comment, you have another thing coming. As a matter of fact, I think I just might take Buck up on his offer. Buck," she started, but found herself in Chris' arms. He shoved the ring on her finger, then followed it up with hungry kisses. Giggling, she pulled away. "Nuh uh, Mister, I still remember that shoeing comment. Good luck getting lucky!" Laughing, she grabbed his bag, gave him a peck on the cheek, then took off.
Chris watched her go with a smile on his lips the slowly faded when he noticed Buck's frown. "What?"
"What did you mean by that comment, Chris? And don't bother trying to deny it, you aren't the only one who's changed. Remind me later to tell you just what ole Cindy was in to aside from snorting coke with you." Buck growled a little, his eyes turning gold.
"So you're a were, how special for you, Buck." Chris adjusted his hat and moved on. He felt his friend's presence at his back, but didn't look to assure himself. "It isn't any of your business, Buck. Just know that it saved my life. Was it worth it? I honestly can't tell you."
Chris pressed his lips gently against Sarah's, hoping to make it as perfect for her as he was supposed to. Then Sarah wrapped her arms around his neck and proceeded to suck half his face down her throat. Getting into the kiss, he returned the favor until they were both groaning. They eventually broke apart, gasping for breath, laughing at the whistles from their wedding party.
Looking up from Sarah, he glared at their friends. Their entire group was dressed in their police uniforms, including the Lieutenant, Sarah's father. When Sarah traced her hands down his body, his mind turned to other more pleasant thoughts.
Grasping Chris' butt, Sarah whispered huskily in his ear. "I am horny, say good bye and lets get out of here, rookie."
Chuckling, he picked her up and swung her around. "Anything you say, ma'am."
Chris held Sarah's bangs out of her face, mopping up the sweat off the back of her neck with the rag in his other hand. He smiled at her slyly when she glared through sweat drenched eyelashes at him.
"Don't ever think about sex again."
"Come on, Sarah, it isn't that bad. Be a man, just bare it."
"You try getting pregnant, see how well you handle it, dick head!" She was about say more when she lurched back over the toilet and let loose with more.
Chris held her retching body, sighing happily as she finished. He would help her through it with as much cheer as was needed. It didn't matter, he was going to be a father!
Chris held the baby in his arms, rocking him slowly, humming off key. The baby twisted in his arms, scrunching up his face in prelude of a cry. Stopping his singing, Chris held the baby closer. The moment he was silenced the baby settled back down. Chuckling from around the room had him scowling at his friends and wife.
"Give it up, baby, you can't sing." Sarah patted him consolingly. "You are still going to be a great father, just leave the music to the professionals."
"Bite me!" Holding the baby closer, he ignored the others and tried singing again. This time the baby started to cry. Handing him off to his mother, Chris sat back in the chair and sulked. So it was going to be that way was it? All right, he was up for a challenge.
"No!" Adam placed his hands on Chris lips much to amusement of the assembled family. The toddler laughed at his father's expression and fell back into his lap. "No!"
"Give it up, pard, it just isn't going to happen. If anything, your singing has gotten worse. Even the little pup over there thinks you sound like a cat caught in a machine." Buck slapped Chris on the back. Grinning down at his friend, he wrapped his arm back around the blonde on his left. The blonde on his right stuck out her lip and pouted at him. "Now hold on, Ella, there's enough Buck for you too."
Grinning at his son, Chris held him up by the waist. "What do you call Uncle Buck?"
"Slut," Adam cheerfully crowed. "Slut! Slut! Slut!"
Glaring at his friend, Buck tightened his grip around the ladies. "If it wasn't your birthday, Chris, I would have to defend my honor."
"Uncle Slut!"
Buck stared at his god son. "Now lil pardner, that ain't a nice word. You call me uncle Buck."
"Uncle Slut!"
"Chris, what have you been teaching our son?" Sarah entered the room carrying the cake and a pissed off expression.
Chris tucked his son under his arm. "Nothing he shouldn't know." Tickling Adam in the ribs, he smiled. "What do we call mommy, rookie?"
Blinking happily at her, he glanced between her and Chris. "Pretty slut!"
"No! No, no, Adam. That isn't what I told you. I told you to call momma a pretty momma. Tell her, say pretty momma!"
"Pretty slut! Pretty slut! Pretty slut!"
Chris backed away from his wife, putting their son down to move faster. "You know I would never call you a slut! Sarah! Don't!" Too late, he saw the cake coming at his face and was smacked head on.
Picking up their son, Sarah smirked at her husband. She grabbed a piece of cake and fed it to Adam. "Who's baby boy are you?"
"Momma!" Grinning at Sarah, Adam rubbed the cake all over her face. "Pretty Momma!"
Chris held the camera video taping Adam and a dozen other kids tearing opening packages by the Christmas tree. The lodge they had rented as a group for the vacation cost less than a precinct Christmas party so the entire station had ponied up the dough. He smiled at Sarah over the camera, then frowned when he noticed her talking to Ella, Buck's girlfriend. Or was she his ex this week?
They seemed quite animated in their argument. Her dark clothes stood out contrasting against Sarah's festive wear. At times he swore he saw her eyes turn black to match it, then they would be back to normal. He had told Buck not to invite her this time, so may be it was an ex week.
Turning up the volume on the microphone, he turned it towards Ella and Sarah.
"I am telling you to leave him the hell alone or I will not hesitate to put a bullet between your fucking eyes, bitch!" Sarah's hand was unconsciously reaching for a holster that wasn't there. Since she had been promoted last month, she had stopped carrying her weapon in the side rig. The party was too hot for a jacket so she had opted to leave the shoulder holster at home.
A good thing in his opinion.
"Do not tell me what to do, Sarah, Chris is a big boy, he can choose for himself."
Standing, he turned off the camera and erased the conversation from it. Handing it over to a friend, he hit the record so that if it hadn't been erased, it would be recorded over. He moved over to Sarah's side and put an arm around her shoulders. Smiling sweetly at Ella, he spoke in jovial tones. "I have chosen. Now get out before I shoot you myself. Or better yet, I give Sarah my gun and let her do it."
Sarah patted his arm. "Thanks, hon."
"Anything for my wife."
Ella's eyes narrowed, flashed black then went back to their unnatural green. "Fine. You have made your choice, deal with the consequences." Drawing her shawl tight about her, she stormed out of the building.
Chris shuddered in anger, restraining Sarah from going after her. "It won't help."
"No, but it would make me feel better!"
"No, I mean regular bullets. I have seen her kind before in South America. Regular bullets don't stop them." At her questioning gaze, he waved a hand in dismissal. "I am not going to talk about it. Just stay away from her."
Sarah watched him walk off back to their son with a determined gaze. "Just what the hell have you been hiding from me?"
Chris slammed the medical chest shut, rubbing at his temples. The headaches had been getting worse for the past six months until he stopped even sleeping. Glancing up at his reflection, his blood shot eyes made them look black in the dim light. The vessels had exploded earlier from a particularly powerful migraine.
He gripped the sink in an attempt to maintain balance. The scent of cheap perfume wafted across his senses making him gag. Phantom fingers traced patterns over his skin in normally erotic tattoos, but only served to turn his stomach.
When the stench had passed, he reached into the sinking and washed the now room temperature water over his face. It was time.
Chris removed the stopper from the sink and turned off the bathroom light. Walking past the bed where Sarah had tossed in her troubled sleep, he headed for the closet. Reaching inside, he pulled out a grisgris and an assortment of charms he had gathered during his time with Ezra fighting drug lords and other assorted nasties.
They were placed in strategic positions around his body before he grabbed a set of silver plated hand guns from a rack. Grabbing his gun belt off the hook, he stuck the guns in the holsters and wrapped the belt around his waist. He checked each of the bullets to make sure their silver coating was still in place.
He closed the closet door and turned back to the bed. Chris gave Sarah's body one last longing look then walked out of the room. He had a witch to hunt down and burn.
Chris decked the werewolf holding him back, pulled his gun and shot it twice, once in the head and once in the heart. Aiming at the others, he fired on any that got in his way. "Protect that whore all you want, I have enough bullets to kill you all!"
Three more went down before he switched to his second gun. Putting the empty one back in its holster, he grabbed one of the four off his shoulder rig and started firing in to the crowd. Each bullet found its mark, magically enhanced not to miss. One of the gifts of his former lover.
"Where is that fucking bitch?" Grabbing a passing female, he used the blade in his wrist sheath to remove her right front paw. He placed the blade against her throat and pointed his gun at the pup in her other arm. "Where is she?"
The wolf woman shook her head in fear. When Chris cocked his gun, she growled.
"Wrong answer!" He shot the cub and slit her throat. His eyes reflected black in the full moon light. "Where is she?" Emptying the clip in a huddled mass of werewolves, he turned on the remaining member with his shoulder gun. "Tell me and I will spare the rest of your pack."
"We don't know..." It fell to the ground, head missing.
"Then suffer no more." Raising his hands, the mists around him disappeared in the sudden heat. The ground shook violently and cracked. Steam shot from the Earth, spewing sulfur and other toxins into the air. Entire patches of the forrest burst into flames.
Magma rose from the Earth swallowing the low areas before rising through the hills. Wolves, humans, live stock, and all other animal life in the area screamed while it consumed them. Slowly, the hills too sank in the flood of liquid Earth. The greatest of the structures burned in seconds until all that remained above the lake of lava was Chris.
Lowering his arms, the lake shrieked from the cooling and turned to obsidian. Chris walked across the glassy surface not looking back.
Chris felt calm, nothing else mattered to him in this moment. The moment he had been seeking for almost a year had finally come and he was ready. Ella was standing in front of him, her magics spent and the last of her tricks burned away. Leveling the gun at her, he cocked it. Finger on the trigger, he was about to fire.
That was when it all fell to hell. The world around them exploded into brilliant light. People shrieked in agony before melting away into flames. Ella raised her hands much as he had done before. The flames of the world consumed the people around them, only this time it spread further than the eye could see.
He felt her magic consume everything beyond even his senses. When the magic had spread too thin, it snapped back to her in a violent force. His skin itched from the proximity of so much power. Lips quirking in a smile, she raised a hand and blew him a kiss.
Chris took aim again. Before he could fire, he was tackled from behind and the Ella disappeared in black flames. His calm fell into pure rage and he released the magic inside him. The people holding him down exploded backwards into the ash that covered the ground. Turning on them in a violent rage, Chris raised his power to crush them.
He was hit once more, only this time from a blast of power. Six mystics surrounded him. When he tried to rise again, one dropped a hand and he hit the ground again. Every one of his attempts to strike back was met with an invisible barrier.
The Six looked upon him through blind eyes and nodded as one. Chris felt the last of his magic stripped from him like scalding water being poured on his soul. Before he could scream from the pain, it was replaced by a deep burning hatred of these beings. He silently vowed to see them all dead for stopping his vengeance.
Chris Larabee wiped a bead of sweat from his brow ignoring the tears streaming down his face. Sitting in the interrogation room of his own precinct did nothing to help his already raging emotions. They had placed him in the room four hours ago, just right after he had been caught. If they hadn't stopped him, he woulda put a bullet through that psychotic bitch's brain. What they did to him after that wouldn't have mattered, he would have had his revenge.
The door finally opened causing him to break his mental raging long enough to send a death glare towards the intruder.
A woman in a crisp business suit with her hair in a bun stalked across the room to stand opposite him across the table. Adjusting her glasses, she tilted her head and raised an eyebrow in appraisal of him. "Mr. Larabee?"
"Go to hell."
"I will take that as a yes. I am your defense lawyer as provided by your contract with the Denver branch of WolfRam and Hart." Laying down her folders, she pulled out the chair and sat down. "Your case is very complicated. You have been charged with using witch craft to commit mass murder and destruction. They are pressing this case to be prosecuted as a terrorist act which comes with an automatic death penalty. Do you have any evidence to prove contrary?"
"Fuck you."
She took off her glasses and returned his murderous glare. "Mr. Larabee, I cannot represent you if you do not cooperate."
He shot across the table and grabbed her by the neck. "Listen closely, you arrogant bitch, I don't give a damn what you do, just leave me the hell alone!"
The door opened again and a throat cleared from the entrance. Standing in the door way looking shiny and deadly, a young man with blue eyes glared at Chris. "Release her."
"Leave me alone."
"I would like to do that, Mr. Larabee, but you seem to be strangling my boss." Walking in to the room, he casually strolled up to the interrogation room table. "While you may feel free to vent your rage on the locals, my firm frowns upon our clients killing their representatives without good cause."
Chris gave him a wicked grin while releasing his lawyer. "Perhaps you would like to take her place." Before the young man could reply, Chris' hand lashed out and snagged him by the wrist. Chris felt a momentary wave of dizziness as he tightened his grip. Looking at the startled man's face, he smiled.
The assistant shivered from the heat in Chris' gaze. "Mr. Larabee, I am afraid..." he was cut off by a hand covering his lips. Chris was suddenly standing in front of him, half lidded green eyes staring into his own.
"You should be." Wrapping his arms around the assistant, he pulled him up close and set him on the table. He crushed his lips on the young man's and forced him to lay back on the table and spread his legs. Chris laid between his legs and started to unbutton his shirt.
"Mr. Larabee," his lawyer began, "I shall be outside when you are finished. Please, take your time and think about this." She adjusted the lapels of her suit and caught her folders as they were knocked off the table by her struggling assistant. "Make sure he enjoys it, Mr. McDonald, remember, client satisfaction is our top priority." Turning on her heel, she stalked out and closed the door on the groaning.
Quickly, she walked down the hall and entered a small, dark room where two men and a horned demon sat. "Aside from a few distractions, I believe Mr. Larabee will be open to your proposal."
The demon growled while he watched. The long haired young man beside him spoke. "We believe this release will be good for his reasoning. You are to be commended."
"Thank you, sir, we at WolfRam and Hart are only here to serve the needs of our clients." She spoke to the demon, but her eyes kept shifting to the translator.
The demon growled once more then proceeded to ignore the lawyer. His translator turned shockingly blue eyes on her. "The Council will pay you the agreed upon fee plus a small bonus if Mr. Larabee accepts."
Raising an eyebrow, she tilted her head and grinned. "I am sure he will be, and it has been a pleasure doing business with your Council."
Chris nuzzled the hair of the young man beneath him drowsily. Strong feelings of lust still rolled through him, but the immediate need had been satisfied. He smiled at Lindsey's groggy look and traced a finger down the side of his face. "You were great."
Too tired to blush, Lindsey nodded and yawned. "Thanks."
"Wanna go at it again?" Chris laughed at Lindsey's scowl. "Just asking."
"No." Relaxing, Lindsey stretched. His body spasmed from laying on the hard table for too long. "I gotta get out of here. No doubt my boss has already gotten you free of the charges."
Chris pressed Lindsey back into the table top, leaning down to kiss him thoroughly. "A last one for the road."
"I'll remember this for a long time." He winced when Chris pulled out of him still half hard. Doing a few leg stretches, he eased off the table then promptly collapsed to the floor. "Give me a minute, I'll get there."
Chris rolled on to his back. After stretching, he folded his arms behind his head. Slowly, the haze of sexual fervor drained from him. An aching filled his gut and he reached out for Lindsey. His body started to quake from withdrawal, his breath hitching in his throat. Blinking, he tried to find Lindsey.
The man had disappeared during his malaise and three others took his place. A man with snow white skin and hair, a devil's horns stood at his feet staring at him. Gray eyes blinked, then he looked away. It growled at a smaller man beside him.
Chris shifted his attention to the man. Shaking with need, he reached out for him.
The translator growled back at the white man. When he was ignored, he sighed. "Chris Larabee?"
"Please." Chris curled up when a stabbing pain filled his gut and cried out. "What is wrong with me?"
"You are suffering the effects of power withdrawal. If I were to touch you..." He trailed off, growling once more at the white man.
The second man walked up behind the translator and shoved him into Chris' reach.
"No! You son of a bitch!" The translator landed on the table next to Chris. Trying to back away, he jerked to avoid Chris. The second man shoved the translator on top of Chris causing the him to cry out in pain. Having the energy sapped from him, his struggle to break free weakened. Eventually the translator lost the battle and fell unconscious.
Chris held the man tightly to him, stroking a hand up his back. Pulling his shirt up, he jerked it off him to get as much skin contact as possible. He pressed his lips to the side of the man's head and sighed contented. Reality snapped back into place in his head and he glared at the white man. "What are you?"
Placing the tips of his fingers together, the white man sat down at the interrogation table. "My name is Jesse Kincaid, and I am Rel."
Kissing the translator again, Chris felt the pain inside him retreat to manageable levels for the first time in months. "What is going on with me?"
"You are soul bound to my translator, his energy is now yours for as long as you need it. Do not fear, he heals quickly." Crossing his legs, Jess smirked. "And do not worry about issues of consent, he quite fancies you."
"Why?"
"Because you came highly recommended to us by a friend of the Council. We had to act fast, you see, you were dying from the energy drain performed by those half assed shahmen. It just so happens I was conveniently in the area and my translator likes the cut of your jiff." Leaning forward, the demon smiled. "We have a job offer for you, one I am sure you will be quite pleased to accept." Jess gestured for the man at his side to sit in the opposite chair. "We do not wish to pressure you into joining. In fact, we find it easier to bribe perspective members. Aside from my translator's emotional and energy support, we offer a few fringe benefits."
"Ella?" Chris held the translator closer when he started to stir.
"Among other things."
Chris' eyes flashed hard as flint. "Where do I sign?"