-1Chapter 2

The pain was something fierce. It wasn’t the dull ache of exhaustion, nor the insistent pang of energy loss. It was something more- all of that combined with a pain that almost left him longing for more, wishing it would never end. He could feel it coursing through his body and he knew, somehow, that if he put up with it, if he fed this pain, it would quickly turn to pleasure. It was a part of him, ancient and denied for too many centuries. In the place between sleep and waking he felt it and prodded it and in a state of drowsy acceptance could find no reason to hate it. But he couldn’t stay in that undemanding place for long, and as he came fully awake he recognised it for what it was. Blood magic.

Samuel groaned.

He’d performed blood magic last night- had broken the last sacred rule between him and total damnation, and all for the sake of living, of not falling into some enchanted sleep like so many others and being half aware as your skin flaked to the ground and your bones turned brittle and white in the air. And he’d saved a vampire. Oh, Gods, he’d saved the damned, one of the forsaken. An enemy- a being who used the blood tie by choice! He closed his eyes and felt a tear slide down his cheek. Well. There wasn’t that much of a difference between him and the creature when you put it that way. Samuel lay there for a while, exhausted and full of self hatred and pity, cursing himself, his teachers, his Gods and the vampire he’d been incarcerated with. If he hadn’t been so stupid, so reckless, so self indulgent, none of this would have happened. If he’d just kept his strength up instead of embarking on an angst fuelled tour of Sydney’s darker corners, sending his strength without thinking, casting for no reason, he wouldn’t have needed the blood to cast the policemen to sleep. He would have been able to face the vampire. He wouldn’t have been in there in the first place!

He groaned and screwed his eyes against the light that filtered through one of the windows in the room. It was an orange light, a dusk sun sat just beyond the glass. He swallowed. He wasn’t anywhere he recognised. His place wasn’t this… comfortable, certainly. He struggled slowly to sit upright, back resting against couch pillows and an armrest. There was a coffee table with paper and a pen on it in front of him. He frowned. A note? His hands shook as he reached out to pick it up- a lingering sign of his utter exhaustion last night. He was lucky he wasn’t dead, truth be told. The paper was indeed a note, and his eyes widened as he read it.

The vampire-

He was in the vampires home? He knew he’d threatened something about leaving him at the station, but he hadn’t expected the idiot to bring him to his home. He sighed and leant back into the couch, closing his eyes. Apparently the vampire - Gareth- didn’t know what he was. Didn’t know who he was. He had found that hard to believe, last night. Surely the vampire knew of the war? Knew of the everlasting battle between their kind? But now, when he was a little less tired and a little calmer… it was a possibility, if not a probability. The vampires had become a numerous race, and much of their traditions had been cast aside by the younger covens. They were more interested in new years fire works than solstice sacrifices. So. Perhaps knowledge of the battle had been… not lost, for there were still skirmishes. It had perhaps been neglected.

What else did the note say?

Ah. His name. Gareth the vampire wanted to know the name of his guest. Samuel almost laughed. Things were becoming more than absurd- it was insane. He was being almost, well, he was being civil. He’d even pointed out that there was food in the fridge. Almost his entire life, Samuel had been warned of the vampires, their bloodlust, their insanity, their inability to think of anything but the next human heart they were going to stop. And here he was in one’s lounge room, being told where the juice was. A vampire who wasn’t crazed by his ‘well known’ use of a ‘purer’ form of energy extraction. Or at least, certainly knew nothing about it. Samuel sighed. Yet more proof of the Elders lies. He should be used to it by now, but for some reason every time felt like a betrayal, and always he clung to the teachings that he had yet to find fault with- teachings which were growing few and far between, now.

He glanced at the note in his hand and winced. He hoped it wasn’t far to the kitchen- he didn’t think he could stand for long. But he needed his strength back, and the promise of juice, however frozen, made him very keen to test his limits just to get his hands on it. With a lurch and a heavy intake of air he thrust himself off the couch and onto his feet, staggering. He could make it, on a second inspection, without having to take his hands off something supportive, if he tried. Hopefully, anyway. From coffee table, to couch, to wall, the table, to wall again and there! To the kitchen bench. The wooden floor was pleasantly cool beneath his feet and the kitchen bench- a kind of laminate, he supposed, retained some of the warmth from the previous days sun. The fridge hummed in a corner, bleak white uninterrupted by magnets or notes or, well, anything much. He struggled for a moment, waging a bitter war with the seals that held the fridge door shut against him, but after some ingenious prying with his fingernails along the side managed to part them, and the fridge lay open.

Samuel knew, of course, that vampires didn’t eat much beside blood, but the sheer sparsity of the fridge was possibly more confronting than seeing Gareth rip someone’s throat out would have been. Well, perhaps that was taking the idea too far, Samuel thought as he leant against the fridge, but he’d never seen such a lonely looking fridge. An empty glass, a can of unopened fruit and a box of antibiotics. He opened the freezer- it sat atop its brother- and winced. There might have been juice in there at some point, but the ever growing army of ice crystals had long since claimed it as some kind of balustrade for their own. He sighed and let the freezer close. He was no match for ice crystals, not today. He grabbed the fruit from the fridge and shuffled over to the bench, staring at the top of the can for a moment before sighing mightily. It wasn’t a pull top. Even if it had been a pull top, Samuel knew he would have had issues with opening it, but it wasn’t a pull top. He needed a can opener. And how the hell was he supposed to find a can opener in the house of a man who didn’t need food? He bit his lip and tried not to be too pessimistic as he began his search, opening first one drawer, and then another, stacked atop each other as they were beneath the bench. To his surprise, he found each one well stocked. Cutlery that seemed to have been bought in a set of eight- eight knives, eight spoons, eight forks and even a few odd looking teaspoons lay slightly dusty in their little grooves. The second drawer was less neat, but still well provisioned. A spatula, a smaller spatula, a whisk and some skewers. What looked like a fly swat gave him a moments hesitation, but he looked on, stumbling across peelers, a butchers knife and a wicked looking pronged instrument before finding, finally, a can opener. It looked a little rusty, but Samuel was pretty sure Gareth wouldn’t own a living animal and so felt he had nothing to fear so far as lingering remnants of salmon and beef cat food went. Why anyone thought that cats would be more accepting of a salmon and beef mixture than most humans Samuel had no idea, but still. He guessed it was in the marketing, and how cute a cat you could get on the label- fuzzy and small seemed to work well. He set the can opener on the bench beside the can and looked at each in turn. Oh, he hated being this weak, and he wouldn’t be strong again until he replenished his energy- something that wouldn’t be too hard, being so close to the water here and all- but he really didn’t want to face the vampire- Gareth- as weak as he was. He looked out the window and watched as the sun sank ever lower, now only half visible above the horizon. He guessed it couldn’t be helped, now. The sun disappeared quickly from here on in. He picked up the can opener and set to work, clamping the serrated edge against the tin and cursing as his arms tired from such little movement. Gradually, the tin spinning as he worked, Samuel got the top free, small rivulets of juice running down the sides, impeded by the plastic-paper label that declared SPC to the world of shopping market aisles in white and red. The fruit inside was still good- not off yet, Samuel sighed, grateful for that at least. He dug out a slice of peach with two fingers, and brought it slippery to his mouth. He almost dropped it, once. But he was dammed if he was going to let it get away, hungry and exhausted as he was. If he’d dropped it, he thought, he probably would have cried. Wouldn’t that have been wonderful.

The sugar hit was nothing short of amazing, and he could feel some life returning to him as he ate, preserved slither after preserved slither. He was almost at the point of draining the juice when he realised there was someone in the kitchen with him, and that the sun had completely vanished. It was dark. He froze, lowered the tin, resting it with a slight twang on the bench, and turned around. Vampire.

Gareth leant against the wall of the kitchen, trying to look as nonchalant and harmless as possible. He’d left enough of a gap between himself and the exit that- whoever he was- could get through without having to get too close, and was trying to give the impression of being as far away as the guy wanted him to be. Though judging by the look on his face, not even death could achieve that. The tin of fruit he’d completely forgotten about lay emptied on the counter and he looked at the man who held it.

“Prefer it to juice, then?” He asked, uttering the first thing that came to mind in what was proving to be a very awkward situation. His guest looked stunned, a little.

“There- the ice- couldn’t find…” He waved a hand at the fridge before sighing. “You really have no idea what I am?”

Gareth shrugged. “Not a clue- beside the fact that you aren’t human. Your heart beats differently, you know. I think you’re much too old,” he paused and smiled a little sheepishly. “Well, you get the idea, I hope. I didn’t get your name, either…”

Hesitation, a little fear. Gareth mentally shook his head at himself, a little internal voice telling him not to be so disappointed. He was undead- he drank blood behind nightclubs. What the hell was he expecting, total understanding and acceptance?

Still, the pause didn’t last so long as he’d feared it would. “I’m Samuel. Sam, to most. Ah, thanks for the.. Couch, and fruit. And last night…”

Gareth smiled. “Don’t worry. If you hadn’t come up with something I’d have had to break out of there, which would have caused all kinds of fuss and quite probably left me outside at dawn. Which, of course, would have happened had I not broken out. All in all, your method was better. How did you do it?”

Sam blinked.

“I’m, well. I’m immortal. They call us Mages sometimes. At least, that’s what we call ourselves.” he looked a the floor for a minute before continuing, deciding it couldn’t really get much worse than it already was and if it did, well, anything that was going to happen was going to happen anyway. “We tend to kill vampires. They tend to kill us. It’s a bit of a tradition. A feud, I suppose.” He looked up at Gareth and shrugged. “That’s why I was so certain you’d have known what I was. It’s… I don’t know. A huge, major, epic battle between good and evil, and you are, naturally, evil.”

Gareth almost smiled at that. “Of course I am. I drink blood. I couldn’t be anything but. Mages, huh?” it was his turn to shrug, now. “Guess I might have known about it all if I’d been in a coven or some such thing, but we don’t really stick to hierarchy around these parts.” He smiled then. “Good thing too. If we did, I’d likely have killed you last night, getting out alive be dammed. So. I figure we both pretty much saved each others… continued existence, back there. Reckon all debts owed are paid and what not, nothing keeping either one of us from doing whatever it is either one of us usually does. That said, I haven’t had anyone here in, well, it’s been a while now. If you need any help, or anything, I’m happy to help. Then again, I don’t have any knowledge of this… huge, major, epic battle between good and evil. So, if you just want to leave, I’d appreciated it if you didn’t come back and kill me later, or anything. That would kind of suck,” he drew a breath and looked back at the ground. “Haven’t said that much to someone in a while. Shit.” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck.

Sam shifted, more than surprised at Gareth’s monologue. The guy was being, he supposed, utterly honest. And he was nervous. This was most definitely not the guy he’d been in a cell with. Suddenly an irate and confrontational- or at least, certainly confident- vampire had turned into this. It would have been funny if the guy wasn’t a vampire. But he was, and that was something. Everything. Sam sighed.

“This is ridiculous.”

Gareth laughed, the sound causing Sam to stare at him, shocked.

“Yeah, it is.” he grinned. “Someone I’ve just found out is my sworn enemy ate the last of my human food, and spent the night on my couch.” He shook his head, still grinning. “Just let me know how I get you past kitten-strength so I can leave you somewhere without feeling guilty, okay?”

Sam smiled back. “I just- I just need water. The sea would be perfect. If you could help me to a beach, or something, I’ll be out of your hair.”

“At night?” Gareth asked. “There are… sharks, and things.”

Sam shook his head. “I don’t have much to worry about so far as sharks go. And, Gareth,” he smiled. “I won’t come back and kill you. I do believe the vicious, angry, blood thirsty, insane vampires perhaps only exist in story books, after all.”

Gareth stilled. “Oh, no. They exist, for sure. I just don’t happen to be one of them.” He picked up a pair of keys from the table Sam had used to drag himself from over from the couch. “Just like I imagine there exist horribly cruel, dare I say evil, Mages.”

He walked over and paused, hand outstretched to Sam. “Come one. I’ll drive you to a beach.”

Sam nodded and leant gratefully against Gareth’s side.

“I appreciate it.”

AN:

Yeah- there you have it.

Let me know what you think- is it worth continuing this?? I’m not sure- Samuel reminds me of an Immortal (re: Highlander) and this isn’t supposed to be fan fiction… Just without the final prize… and battles… and decapitation issues…

So maybe not like Highlander P