Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Jonathan was making his rounds in the hospital, checking on the health of both the patients and the staff as always. There were a lot of new faces since his return from America, and some of the patients he had conversed with before had been discharged since, like Harvey Fiddick and Mortimer Goswick. He was still trying to figure out a routine having just returned to London a few weeks ago. It was odd to return to his old position, as nebulous as it had been. Ironically, in the few weeks he’d been here he’d spent more time at the hospital caring for patients than he had before his leave of absence.

Strickland had been excited when he’d returned while Ackroyd had seemed annoyed. Ackroyd’s annoyance could have been due to the positively effusive welcome back Edgar had given Jonathan. It had been enough to cause Jonathan to feel embarrassed considering it had happened almost as soon as he had stepped into the hospital and there had been many witnesses.

Before their reunion, Jonathan had been awaiting the day with trepidation. He had--perhaps carelessly--left his progeny alone for three months shortly after turning him. He had been worried about what Edgar could end up doing even as he turned him, but hoped he could properly impress on him the importance of not feeding or experimenting on humans.

When he had finally seen him again, Jonathan had been pleased to see that Edgar’s eyes were not the fiendish blood red of one who gorged themselves upon humans. There was the barest hint of it, but Edgar had only ended the lives of two people on death’s door. He had also had the decency to look ashamed when he admitted his weakness. Fully aware of how hard it was to abstain completely, Jonathan hadn’t scolded him, just encouraged him to stay strong.

Once he’d made sure everyone who needed medicine had gotten it, he went to stop by Edgar’s office. As he walked in, he was hit by the smell of blood and instantly zeroed in on the source of it. There was a small cut on Edgar’s hand, the other holding a stopwatch. The man was staring intently at the cut as it healed itself, hitting the button on the stopwatch once no trace of it remained before scribbling something into a notebook sitting on the desk in front of him.

“Another one of your experiments?” Jonathan inquired, approaching the desk.

“Why yes! I was curious about how the rate of our regeneration could be affected by a variety factors. I am currently running a series of tests to see if healing repeatedly without any rest or nourishment causes our regenerative abilities to slow down. It’s still early, but I have noticed these last few cuts have taken two seconds longer to heal than they had initially.”

“And how long have you been doing this for?”

“That was my twenty-second cut. After this set of tests, I’m planning to increase the size of the wound to see if that causes the healing to slow down more quickly. The only problem I’ve ran into with doing these sorts of experiments on myself is that after my body heals itself, my hunger grows... But don’t worry, I am well aware of my limits. I go out and do a bit of hunting before I can become too tempted by the mortals here.”

“My offer still stands should you find yourself in need while I am here at the hospital.”

Jonathan heard Edgar’s heart rate kick up a few notches and could barely detect a faint blush on the doctor’s cheeks. “Yes, well, that is a rather generous offer,” Edgar said, voice slightly higher pitched than normal. He cleared his throat before continuing more smoothly, “It is certainly something I want to leave as a last resort. It wouldn’t do if I became dependent on you, especially since you are not always around. This is something I must master myself.”

Studying Edgar for a moment first, Jonathan replied, “That’s an admirable attitude. Just make sure you don’t push yourself too hard. On the topic of my absences, I was about to go visit the Docks, and just thought I’d stop in and inform you.”

"Oh? I suppose it has been some time since you last checked in on the people there. Hopefully you won't be accosted by the Guard during your journey."

Jonathan grinned slightly. "I certainly have seen less of them, and when I have crossed paths with them they seem content to let me pass if I don't get too close to them. Perhaps I am under the aegis of their esteemed leader."

Edgar frowned. "That doesn't sound like the McCullum I know. I must admit I have no idea how you've managed to get on his good side."

"I'd say it's more just that he's no longer actively hating me. I'm sure if I ever slipped up he'd be the first to relieve me of my head and not cry any tears. It's...reassuring, in a way."

Edgar shivered, the words reminding him of Jonathan's first lecture to him once he'd been turned. Jonathan had never said it directly, but rather implied that if Edgar were to start killing innocents to sate himself, Jonathan would not hesitate to end him. It was supposed to be a punishment for him, after all, and there was no way Jonathan would live with the guilt of having a killer of his own making on the loose.

"Have a good rest of your night, Edgar," Jonathan said, snapping Edgar out of his thoughts. "I will be quite interested to read the results of your experiments."

"Yes, I will be glad to go over them with you later. Good night and take care."

As Jonathan left, he wondered at Edgar's endeavors. It seemed he was being good on his word as far as only experimenting on himself. And it was strange to think of the scientific method being applied to vampires. What new information could be found out? Would he be able to one day understand everything about his condition? Maybe even find a way to cure it?

Jonathan squashed that hope before it could grow too big. He was afraid of becoming bitter and jaded if it became his raison d'être and then turned out to not exist. He wasn't sure how long he could live if he came to completely resent being a vampire.

The streets were quiet as Jonathan walked them, something he was still unused to. He didn't hear the cries of any skals or any scuffles between vampires and the Guard of Priwen. He only ran into a group of three guards. As he spotted them off in the distance, he held his hands up, showing he didn't intend to attack them and kept as far away from them as possible while continuing on his path. He felt their eyes on his back until he broke their line of sight turning down a different street.

"Bloody leech!" one of them spat. "Dunno why we can't just kill it. Doesn't sit right with me."

"Yeah! What is the Guard coming to, letting one of them just walk around freely?"

An older, more commanding voice broke in, "Try saying that to McCullum if you're so dissatisfied. Now quit your whining. You'd piss yourself if you actually had to fight him."

"Yeah, well, only because he's murdered so many of us!"

By then, Jonathan was too far away to make out the rest of their conversation. He supposed he shouldn't be surprised an order to not attack him was being begrudgingly obeyed. He had killed a number of them, but only in self-defense. Not that he expected them to empathize with him. Hearing their conversation did confirm Jonathan's suspicions of McCullum marking him off limits, causing him to grin. Perhaps it would be possible to lead a peaceful life in the not-too-distant future. There was a spring in his step as he passed over an unguarded bridge, for once being able to enjoy a walk through the city.

Just as he was feeling at ease, Jonathan tensed suddenly, ears pricking up and eyes darting around. He felt he was being watched. Scanning the streets and the rooftops, he didn't see anyone, but he knew that someone had been there just a moment ago. Not a human; some sort of vampire. If he had to guess, it had been an ekon.

Something similar had happened upon his return to London. He had guessed it was Ascalon keeping tabs on him. Lord Redgrave had let Jonathan leave the club, and they had agreed to stay out of each other's business, but it would make sense if he was still being watched. Now he wasn't so sure. Whoever it was could almost perfectly conceal their presence from him, and his instincts had screamed that he had sensed a threat for that brief moment he could detect them. As far as he was aware, no one in the Ascalon Club was a threat to him.

The thought of a powerful, unknown vampire watching him soured Jonathan's good mood. Would he forever be entangled in others machinations? Why couldn't he just be left alone to serve people as a doctor? He could feel the weight of his various weapons hidden under his coat, reminding him of the first violent weeks of his new existence. Would they once again see regular use?

Engrossed in his gloomy thoughts, Jonathan was surprised when he found himself almost at his destination. A familiar voice could be clearly heard now in the still night air, getting his attention.

"Tomorrow night we're going to teach the Sad Saint a lesson. He needs to learn to fear and respect us. Breaking a few bones should help remind him who he's dealing with," Booth Digby sneered.

A couple of voices that weren't familiar to Jonathan responded with enthusiastic affirmations. Jonathan paused, listening until he was sure the underlings had wandered away before going through the gate that separated the Docks' residents from the normally skal-filled streets.

He saw Booth with a grim look of determination on his face as he leaned against the wall of a building, having a smoke.

"Good evening, Mr. Digby," Jonathan greeted, careful to keep his voice neutral despite what he'd just heard.

"And what the fuck do you want, Doctor?" Booth responded testily.

"I couldn't help but overhear your plans for tomorrow night. Now why on Earth are you planning to assault Mr. Hampton? What has he ever done to you?"

Booth wrinkled his nose. "You were eavesdropping on me? Maybe I should get my boys to break some of your bones as well. Teach you to stick your nose in shit that isn't any of your business."

"Come now, there's no need for threats. I am genuinely curious as to why you've decided to attack a peaceful mediator who has done nothing except provide support for those in his community."

Booth shook his head. "I swear your head's messed up or something. Didn't expect a fancy gentleman like you to do nothing 'cept ask questions about my more morally objectionable activities. Are you even going to lecture me about beating people up?"

"I expect any admonishments would be lost on deaf ears. Although I would like to caution you against your current plan. Sean Hampton is a lot tougher than you give him credit for. He's more than capable of holding his own."

"I'm not afraid of him. That self-righteous prick needs to be taken down a peg or two. He doesn't show me the proper respect and doesn't even react to any of my threats. I just want to give him a healthy dose of fear to remind him who's in charge around here. Plus he's been giving me the creeps lately. There's just something unsettling about him."

"Rather insecure, are we? Surely you could find a better way to heal your bruised ego. But like I said, I don't expect to be able to change your mind. I am interested in knowing the outcome. I expect Mr. Hampton will surprise you," Jonathan said with a small grin.

Booth glared at him, looking like he was ready to take a swing. He never did let loose, only grumbled, "I'm sure you'll be 'round to ask me all about it. Not going to warn him?"

"I might, although I doubt it'd make a difference," Jonathan replied. "Sean isn't one to change what he does based on advice from others."

"Each time I talk to you, the more I feel you're fucked up." Booth took a drag on his cigarette before continuing, "Well then, is your little interrogation over with?"

"Almost. I have one final question: Are you in need of any medical assistance?"

Booth arched a brow. "My head's been killing me today. You're one hell of a doctor to always know when to ask."

Jonathan reached into a coat pocket and pulled out migraine medication to hand over. "Just a lucky guess. Have a good rest of your evening."

"Right." Booth took the medicine before he returned to lounging against the wall, clearly dismissive.

Jonathan left him, debating whether to alert Sean of the plot to do him harm. Sean probably wouldn't change his actions in any way. It would just be forewarning him so he wasn't caught by surprise. That might help him keep his secret hidden, at least. Jonathan had been intending to visit Sean tonight after all, wanting to check in on him again so it would only make sense to inform him.

Sean had taken both his sudden absence and equally sudden return in stride, acting as though Jonathan hadn't been gone for months without a word. Jonathan had found him much the same: still tending to his flock, still satiated by the blood he'd been given. Any regret he'd felt about forcing Sean to drink his blood had faded slowly over time, and seeing that Sean was still able to serve his community without going mad after all this time had caused the last of it to disappear. He wasn't sure if Sean would ever feel at ease with him, though.

Making his way to the western docks, Jonathan continued to greet and give medicine to anyone else he came across that needed it. He couldn't shake the feeling he was still being watched, although he never saw or heard his elusive stalker. At this point he wasn't sure if he was just imagining it, but he couldn't get himself to fully relax. Exchanging pleasantries with London's citizens was not enough to distract him from being on high alert. All he could do was wait for the source of his anxiety to make their first move.

Chapter Text

"Jonathan. Jonathan, my dear. Please, take a break. You have been toiling away for hours."

Jonathan looked up, wondering how many times Elisabeth had unsuccessfully tried to get his attention, standing in the doorway with her arms crossed. He had been engrossed in examining a sample of her blood underneath a microscope, hoping to glean some new piece of information from it. Seeing Elisabeth's face he realized he must have been deaf to the world for some time.

"But I feel like I haven't devoted nearly enough time to this. And you deserve better."

Elisabeth sighed, exasperated, before smiling softly at him. "At times I can almost forget you are a newborn, young ekon. It has hardly been any time since you have become a part of this world, let alone found out about my condition. I do not expect you to find a cure for me anytime soon, and I do not wish you to spend all your spare time slaving away at this."

"I hardly have any spare time. If I did not use it for this, I would never make any progress."

"Jonathan, you truly frustrate me sometimes. I know I am forever teasing you about being young, but you are just a newborn. We are immortal, and over the ceaseless years we realize just how ephemeral most things are. You still have living friends and family you can hide your true nature from, who do not yet wonder why you do not age. Your original life is not completely lost to you yet. Please, do not waste what time you can spend with your loved ones. Eternity is a long time; you should savor these brief, precious moments instead of coming to regret their absence."

Guilt wormed its way through him at her words. He seemed to be falling into the same bad habits he had while still alive: becoming too focused on his studies and his job and neglecting his personal relationships. And as was pointed out, he had an abundance of time now so he had no excuse.

Letting out a big sigh, Jonathan sank back in his chair. "You are right, as always. I will stop here for the night."

Elisabeth smiled. "Good. Charlotte is coming over, and it wouldn't do for you to huddle away here. It is time to be sociable. Or are you not a gentleman?"

Running a hand over his face, Jonathan replied, "I thought you wanted me to take a break and relax, not subject me to your coordinated efforts to embarrass and harass me."

"Is our teasing really that bad? We could ease up if it is too much for you."

"No, I'm just being petulant. Your jabs could very well be all that stands between me and a bloated ego."

"Be careful. You might encourage me even more. Well, I will go brew some tea. I trust you will clean up after yourself?"

"Of course. I will join you shortly."

Jonathan picked up the all slides he had prepared containing her blood smears and very carefully cleaned them off, throwing the towel he used into the lit fireplace. He watched it burn like always. He never took any chances with her blood after the carnage that had been unleashed by incautious use of it. Once he finished tidying up his workspace, he headed downstairs and heard Elisabeth getting out the china.

Before he could offer to help, there was a knocking on the front door. Leaving Elisabeth to finish preparing the tea, Jonathan went to go and answer it.

"Dr. Reid! Fancy seeing you here. Being all alone with a lady in her house this late at night, how scandalous!" Charlotte said, eyes full of mirth as she grinned.

A slight blush that Jonathan hoped would go unnoticed warmed his cheeks. He had to take a moment to gather himself and not stutter in response. "We both know night is the only time I can visit. Now come in before I have a chance to think better of it and send you away."

"So you can have my mother all to yourself? I see how it is," Charlotte said as she walked past Jonathan into the house.
Now the blush was definitely noticeable, and Jonathan tried to hide it by turning away to shut the door. "Wh-that's- why do you always make everything sound so inappropriate?"

"Oh shush. It's only because you make it so rewarding. You know, I saw you talking with Louise that one time. You got so flustered. What were you talking about? Was she hitting on you, Mr. Eligible Bachelor?"

"No!" Jonathan answered hastily.

"Really? What else could get you to react like that? A dirty joke?"

Jonathan pursed his lips.

"Oh wow, a bit of risqué humor was all it took for you to lose your composure like that? I never knew you were such a prude."

"If you must know, Miss Teasdale was kidnapped by an ekon who had hoped to make her his eternal wife. Knowing I was a doctor who believed her claim of being kidnapped by a vampire, she had some questions for me concerning vampire physiology. Such as if I believed her captor...would be able to consummate the marriage."

"What I would give to have been able to hear that conversation!" Charlotte said, laughing. "What did you tell her, you being an expert and all?"

"I-" Jonathan paused to clear his throat, let out a little cough, and then cleared his throat again. "I mean-I-"

Elisabeth popped her head around the corner to witness the scene. "Charlotte! My sweet and terrible daughter! You have hardly come in before tormenting the good doctor to his breaking point. What have I taught you?"

Charlotte shrugged. "To do this?"

Letting out a small chuckle, Elisabeth conceded, "Like mother like daughter, I suppose. Still, cease your assault for now. Jonathan has been working non-stop tonight, let him rest."

"Yes mother, I will behave," Charlotte replied with exaggerated innocence.

As they all sat down for tea, Jonathan and Elisabeth sniffing theirs while Charlotte actually drinking it as intended, Jonathan felt a warmth overcome him. Charlotte talked animatedly about what had happened in her life since her last visit. Jonathan and Elisabeth gave their own small updates. Elisabeth's teasing was gentler than usual, and Charlotte picked up on it and also eased up. It was a very relaxing and comforting few hours, some of the best he had experienced since being reborn.

It felt like a family, one he didn't have to hide anything from and who he hadn't played a part in destroying. It was dawning on him how lucky he was to have this, to have met Elisabeth and first been mentored by her and then becoming close friends with her.

Not being nocturnal, Charlotte had to bid goodbye as tiredness began to overtake her. Shortly after Charlotte left, Jonathan took his leave.

"Take care, Jonathan."

"I will. And I'll keep in mind what you said."

"Good." Elisabeth's smile disappeared, replaced by a much more serious look. "Be on your guard and let me know if you continue being watched. I have attempted to find some trace of this person, but so far I haven't had any luck."

Jonathan matched her seriousness. "Yes, I certainly will let you know if I sense them again. They seem to be going to great lengths to avoid getting too close to you which worries me. They must know of you enough to know you're not one to be trifled with."

"Hmm, perhaps we should try hunting them down together if they persist."

Jonathan raised an eyebrow. "I thought you were a pacifist."

"I am. I would only wish to help corner them and question them. You can handle the fighting yourself, can't you, London's champion?"

"You know how I feel about that ridiculous title." Even as he was saying this, a corner of his mouth curved up.

"So few people know of the feat you have accomplished, I feel obligated to give you the credit you deserve," Elisabeth responded, her eyes crinkling. "Now go, my champion, and keep safe."

"I will, my lady." Jonathan gave a small bow, full on grinning when he looked up again.

With Elisabeth's words still in mind, Jonathan turned towards the West End as he left. It had been a few days since he last visited home. Normally he wouldn't visit this frequently due to how painful it still was, but her words had caused him to look at the situation differently. He should be there to support his mother in the little time she had left. He had returned to London to care for her, after all. It was selfish to hide from her due to his own discomfort.

The door to his house didn't seem so heavy as he pushed it open, although he couldn't say the same for the atmosphere inside. The gloom seemed a permanent fixture now that there was only one living member of the family Reid, and one who was barely holding on at that.

Jonathan checked in with his mother who was delighted to see him again so soon. She was asking him when he would introduce her to his lady friend who paints when Avery joined them upstairs and interrupted them.

"Mr. Jonathan, someone came by to see you earlier tonight. When they found out you were away, they left this letter with me."

Avery handed over an envelope that had Jonathan's name written on it in an elegant script. Jonathan stiffened, the strangeness of the whole thing giving him a bad feeling. Mechanically, he ripped open the envelope, mind already poising itself to have to react to something horrible.

Dear Dr. Jonathan Reid,

I hope I guessed correctly that you would return to your home after I observed the general direction you were heading in. I must admit that I can hardly restrain myself thinking about the moment when we will finally meet, but I shall strive to shackle the beast a little longer. I have gone through a lot of trouble ensuring we have the perfect meeting place.

Please come to the address written on the other piece of paper enclosed in this envelope. You might find it wise to not make me wait too long, for I have found myself a few gracious hosts while I am here in London who just might not survive the wait to welcome you. You surely are keenly aware of all the death happening as of late. Worry not, I will know when you do make your way home even if it is not the night I dropped off this letter.

I wish I could have tarried, perhaps procured a tour of your home or a little tête-à-tête with your mother. I suppose if it ever strikes my fancy, I could always just ask your butler about receiving a tour. It is a shame that he is the only person around to watch over your mother. Heaven forbid if something were to happen to him in these violent times.

I expect you to come alone to the address and tell no one of our forthcoming rendezvous. I shall remain vigilant, and if I see another soul with you, I shall be forced to flee. My hosts might find themselves unable to welcome you should this happen; my sudden departure would leave them absolutely bereft and incapable of extending their hospitality.

I eagerly await you,
Your appetent brother

Upon reading the penultimate paragraph, Jonathan froze up so much that he stopped breathing without even noticing. To read such threats was like a nightmare come true, and to know they were from the powerful ekon who had been stalking him only made matters worse.

"Mr. Jonathan?" Avery exclaimed, alarmed.

Jonathan's eyes snapped up to look at the man, causing Avery to flinch at the quick movement after how still Jonathan had been. The startled reaction reminded Jonathan he needed to pretend to be human still which included breathing. He took in a deep breath, followed by another as he tried to calm himself, at least enough to not cause Avery further worry. His mother, if she had noticed his lapse in breathing, didn't seem put off at all.

"Sorry Avery, I'm fine," Jonathan said, sounding utterly unconvincing to his own ears. "This letter...it just has some startling news in it is all. I have to go now, it's urgent."

Avery stared at him, and Jonathan avoided looking him in the eye. He did see a frown starting to form, but Avery kept whatever he wanted to say to himself.

"Jonathan, do be sure to visit again soon," his mother said.

"I will," Jonathan said stiffly. He couldn't get himself to fake any other emotion over the panic welling up within him. It was hard enough to not let it leak out.

Everything was a blur as he left, suddenly finding himself outside, heading to the address on the piece of paper he had clenched in one hand. It was for a house in the Docks. When he reached the streets where there were no living souls nearby, he broke out into a sprint which then became him dashing forward at an inhuman speed.

Both Avery and his mother threatened! And the poor souls being held hostage by the vile ekon. What sort of sick game were they playing, and why was he the target of it? Jonathan took stock of the weapons he currently had on him, already imagining ways to rid himself of this new problem before innocents got hurt.

A flash of movement ahead of him caught his eye, and when he saw the telltale wisps of shadowy mist, he let loose a snarl, attempting to pick up more speed. The bastard kept ahead of him, just barely within sight for a second or two before disappearing again. It wasn't long before Jonathan found himself right outside of the house he had been told to come to, stopping up short as he found himself unable to enter. He pounded on the door a few times, too wound up to knock normally. He barely heard someone shout out for him to come in from somewhere inside the house.

Wasting no time, Jonathan slammed the door open, using his vampiric senses to try to locate the threat. There was no one on the first floor, but as he looked up, he saw four humans all in a room with one vampire. He leapt up the stairs and burst into the room, sword drawn.

As soon as the door was opened and he entered the room, he staggered, letting out a choked gasp. There was a distant thud that he realized must have been his sword falling to the floor. His vision was tinged with red as the overpowering stench of fresh blood assaulted him, chasing all thoughts from his mind except his need for it. He forgot where he was, what he had been doing, only taking in the fact that there was someone sitting there, a cut down their neck. Blood poured out of it in a constant, captivating stream.

Jonathan plodded towards them, all of his senses entirely focused on the blood and its source. He found himself looming over the enticing font, falling clumsily to his knees and grabbing a hold of them. They struggled but their movements seemed greatly restricted, making it all the easier for him to keep hold of his prey. Their heartbeat sped up, filling his head with its call. It almost drowned out his own harsh gasping. With fangs fully extended, Jonathan leaned in closer to the teasing morsel slowly running down their neck.

Before he could get close enough to get a taste with his tongue, he wrenched himself backwards, lucidity returning like a strike of lightning. The wrongness of it had finally snapped him out of it. He shadow jumped to the center of the room, trying to put as much space as possible between himself and the temptation.

Looking around the room, Jonathan noticed all of the furniture had been pushed to the edges, resulting in the room being more open and spacious. A mix of four men and women were sitting on the ground, bound and gagged, tied securely to various pieces of furniture to prevent them from being able to escape. Each had a cut on their neck that had to have been made recently judging by how much blood they had lost. Jonathan's eyes widened and he tensed as he noticed eyes watching him from the four victims. He had an audience.

Jonathan swallowed thickly, unsure of what to do. One of them had gotten an up close and personal look at his fangs, at whatever inhuman expression he had been wearing when he had been thinking of them as his prey and nearly bit down. All of them had seen him seemingly teleport. He couldn't focus on figuring out what to do about that now, though. There was a more pressing matter to attend to first.

Anger filled him as Jonathan returned his thoughts to his reason for being there. "Show yourself!" he shouted venomously, turning to keep an eye on all parts of the room. "Or are you too much a coward that you have to hide behind the defenseless? If you have some quarrel with me, do not drag others into it!"

There was no immediate response. He retrieved his sword and was checking his coat pocket for gauze to start tending to the wounded when a chuckle from behind caused him to whip around.

A shiver traveled down his spine as he saw the eyes of the ekon standing in the doorway: they were a demonic red with slit pupils. Jonathan had never seen the like before, but instinctively he knew they could only signify something horrible. The man's dark hair was messy, yet he still looked like a man who took a lot of care in his appearance. He was clean-shaven and wore a simple but impeccably tailored black suit. He also was wearing a huge grin which only further incensed Jonathan.

"Who said I had a quarrel with you, brother? I only laid out a feast for you that you have so rudely refused to partake in," the ekon said, voice silky smooth.

A snarl tore out of Jonathan's throat. "A feast?" he spat. "Have you fallen so low that you only see humans as sustenance?"

"I like to consider myself enlightened. You are the one deluded, living in a world of shadows. We are noble ekon, yet you try so hard to be human. You need to learn to let go of the past and be your true self. Join me and my fellow kindred as we live according to our nature, not bound by a misplaced set of human morals. Do not let my offering go to waste." The ekon gestured to the victims.

Each new thing he heard only enraged Jonathan further. He was in no mood for debating, launching a blood spear at the other's head. The ekon vanished and reappeared a short distance away from his original spot.

"Attacking me? Are you so upset because my words have touched on a truth you have spent all your new life trying to deny?"

Jonathan launched himself at the ekon, swinging his sword. The man dodged again, this time out of Jonathan's field of view. Jonathan was knocked off-balance by a shove from behind, sending him stumbling a few steps. Shadows appeared underneath him, erupting and knocking into his legs, causing him to tumble towards the ground. His free hand landed on something much softer than the floor.

Jonathan's thoughts suddenly became hazy, close to blood again, the scent of it causing his thirst to surge once more. He grimaced, baring his teeth as he clenched his jaw, willing himself to ignore the pull his body felt. One hand was braced on the knee of one of the victims as he knelt there, hunched over their neck. He heard a light poof right before his head was shoved downwards, his mouth crashing into the seeping wound.

Reflexively, his mouth opened, fangs ready to fulfill their role. He bit down, hard. His teeth made a snapping sound as they found nothing more than air to sink into, his face turned away at the last second. Jonathan blindly shoved himself up, his vision completely clouded with crimson. He could shove the bloodlust down. He had a different, more potent kind to deal with instead. It didn't matter if he couldn't see or think straight. He only needed to focus on his target long enough to tear him apart.

Sensing movement, Jonathan concentrated, honing his ire and unleashing it as shadows grabbing hold of the unsuspecting ekon before piercing his chest. As the shadows dissipated, Jonathan shadow jumped over to his stunned adversary, attempting to behead him with his sword. There was pushback as his blade met a hastily created blood shield. And then his foe was gone, leaving behind a few wisps of black mist.

"I concede," the ekon's voice came from behind Jonathan, causing him to turn and see the other in the doorway of the room. Blood seeped out of the wound in his chest, staining and ruining the formerly pristine white dress shirt he was wearing. "I will let you have this first victory." The ekon gave a condescending bow.

"What makes you think I will just let you go?" Jonathan asked, preparing to leap at him.

The ekon flung his hand out towards him, launching a blood spear. Jonathan dodged it, but felt a burst of pain in his shoulder. He froze in surprise as he realized the blood spear had split into multiple projectiles midair, and he hadn't compensated for the wider spread having not expected it.

Taking advantage of Jonathan's momentary surprise, the ekon replied, "You insist on being a doctor and saving lives. I would say that these mortals are in dire need of timely medical attention or else your abstinence will amount to nothing." The ekon smirked before vanishing, his wound already healed.

Jonathan was torn as he saw his opponent flee. He wanted to give chase and release his pent-up aggression by ripping such an irredeemable monster apart and ridding the world of it. But he was a doctor, first and foremost, and there really wasn't much time to spare in saving the poor pawns in the ekon's twisted game. With a huff, he sheathed his sword and turned to face the captives once again, wiping the blood from his lips with the back of his hand as he did so.

Taking a closer look at the four of them using his vampiric senses, Jonathan went over to the person who looked the worst off, a man who looked to be on the verge of passing out. He strode over to him briskly, not wanting to startle him. The man still shrank back from him, eyes wide in terror as Jonathan knelt down in front of him. It wasn't entirely unwarranted as Jonathan's eyes lingered on the cut on his neck, pupils dilating and fangs fully extended. At least this time he was performing his duty as a doctor, the routineness taming his thoughts and urges.

Quickly and professionally, he bandaged up the wound before taking out a dagger to cut the ropes and cloth gag away. Freed, the man crawled backwards hastily, but didn't go far, running out of energy. "S-stay away!" he said tremulously.

Jonathan frowned. "Please, refrain from moving around more than is necessary. You have lost too much blood. I will take you to a hospital, but first I must attend to the others."

"You're a vampire!" the man cried out, pointing accusingly. "I saw you, you were going to eat Gene! And you almost ate Lily too!"

Jonathan was already moving on to the next person. This one was a woman who only looked guarded as he approached, but maintained her composure. He recognized her as the one he had fallen onto. Presumably she was Lily.

"You also saw that I did not actually harm them," Jonathan said. "I may be a vampire, but I refuse to feed on humans. The fact that I haven't despite this whole room being saturated with the scent of your blood and how close I have gotten to your wounds should be proof enough." He finished bandaging Lily and moved on to freeing her.

"Like I'm just going to trust you! That other vampire was so awful, why would you be any different? You're creatures of evil!"

"Oh shut it, Lou," Lily broke in once her gag was removed. She glared at her companion, rather calm considering the situation. "Why would he go through the trouble of freeing us and tending to our wounds? Stop before you make a complete fool of yourself."

"This is ridiculous! I...I'm not going to sit here and let you have your way with me!" Lou struggled to stand, sliding his back against the wall and using it for support as his body shook, legs unable to support him.

"Sir, I told you not to move around unnecessarily," Jonathan said without sparing him a glance, already working on cutting through the third victim's restraints. He couldn't waste time dealing with his shenanigans.

"'Sir?' Politeness will get you nowhere, you-" The sentence went unfinished as there was a thud, the man falling to the ground, passed out.

Jonathan let out a wearied sigh. At least that should buy him a couple minutes free of commentary, but he also worried about getting all of them to the hospital in time. They had elevated heartrates and were breathing shallowly, and of course one of them had already gone and fainted. Removing the gag from the third victim, he heard her mumble a thanks but otherwise remain silent, somewhat afraid of him.

Lily spoke again, having to pause for breath a few times, "Sorry about Lou. He sees things in black and white. Rather close-minded. I dare not think of what would have happened to us if you hadn't come to our rescue. That man was terrible. He made my skin crawl whenever he was around."

"Do you happen to know anything about him?" Jonathan asked, kneeling down to treat the final victim. He was the one Jonathan had first approached: Gene. Gene's eyes were wide and his entire body tensed up as Jonathan got closer to him, but he didn't try to flinch away.

"Not anything beyond the fact he's a vampire. Didn't deign to speak to us beyond commanding us to do things. Never even told us his name."

"I am sorry for the ordeal you've had to endure, and all because he wanted to get to me somehow. I still do not understand why he is targeting me or for what purpose. I only hope no more innocents will get dragged into this."

Jonathan sawed through Gene's gag, addressing the man, "I am sorry for almost letting my hunger get the better of me. I am ashamed that you saw that beastly side of me." Apology given, Jonathan stood up and turned to address all four of them. "Now I'm going to need you, all of you, to sit here and not move around until I can send an ambulance for you. I will be taking Mr. Lou back with me now as he is the worst off. So long as you don't overexert yourselves or receive any new injuries, you should be fine until help arrives." He paused. "And I feel this should go without saying, but you must tell no one the truth of what happened here."

"Your secret is safe with me," Lily said. "I saw how much you wanted to drink my blood. But you didn't."

"I promise I won't tell," the other woman whispered, eyes cast down.

"I suppose Lily has a point," Gene said hesitantly. "Your secret is safe with me."

Approaching Lou, Jonathan saw him beginning to stir. "Excuse me, sir, I am just going to aid you now. Feel free to complain, but do not struggle. You have already caused your condition to worsen enough as it is." Jonathan couldn't help a bemused grin from forming on his face. While Lou struggled to comprehend what was going on, Jonathan crouched down and slid one arm under his knees while the other supported him by the back, lifting him up with ease.

Finding himself suddenly in the air, Lou glanced at the person responsible, comprehension dawning on him. "You! Put me down!" He started wriggling futilely, Jonathan keeping a very firm hold of him.

"I will only ask you one more time: please do not flail about. You are only endangering yourself. I am taking you to the hospital, so please settle down."

"You're taking me to your lair!" Lou yelled, shoving against Jonathan, even trying to punch him in the jaw.

Jonathan took the weak blow and let out a sigh. "I tried asking. I am only trying to help you, so cease your pointless flailing and allow me to get you the help you need. And you are to tell no one about involvement of vampires in this incident."

Lou's eyes glazed over slightly and he stilled, relaxing. With that accomplished, Jonathan hurried outside and started dashing off towards Pembroke. He kept himself from inhaling too deeply, the bandage only dampening the scent of blood slightly, wearing at his self control. Luckily they weren't too far from the hospital and got there within a few minutes.

As he strode into the hospital, Pippa saw him and immediately came over to him. "Dr. Reid! Have you brought in a patient?"

"Yes, Nurse Hawkins. He needs a blood transfusion right away." Jonathan carefully set Lou onto his feet, the man leaning on him for support. Pippa took Lou's arm and put it over her shoulder so she could take over supporting him. "Where's Milton? There are three others in the same condition that need to be brought here."

Pippa furrowed her brow. "He just left on a call."

Jonathan had to bite back a curse. "Take care of him, then. I will bring the others back myself."

"Dr. Reid?" Pippa asked incredulously. She got no response as Jonathan had already gone and she was left with the unsteady Lou to attend to.

When Jonathan returned to the bloody scene, he was once again hit with the stench of blood. Even expecting it this time, it still left him temporarily stunned, his restraint dissipating until he caught himself.

"You came back?" Lily asked in a confused and weak voice, barely above a whisper.

Striding over to her, Jonathan replied briskly, "Yes. Unfortunately the ambulance is currently unavailable. I decided to take all of you back myself." Before he even finished speaking, he was already picking her up.

Jonathan rushed back to the hospital, still trying hard to not breathe through his nose. There was so much blood on Lily's neck from when it had still flowed, and he had to constantly remind himself that he was currently taking her to get medical attention. He didn't spare any time to talk as he dropped her off, panting slightly at the effort of keeping himself in check.

His third trip back and forth was much the same, only he started to tremble slightly. Attempting to bolster himself, Jonathan reminded himself he would only have to do this one more time. Then he could go find something to eat. He needed to eat. Doing this kind of thing without having eaten recently was idiotic and perhaps dangerous.

Listing the name of each bone in the human body to keep his thoughts the thoughts of a doctor, he jolted in surprise upon entering the room to find an extremely fresh smell of a bloodbath. A hand flew to his mouth, as though to try to keep his fangs under control or keep himself from biting. Jonathan grimaced, averting his eyes from the corner of the room Gene was in. Even if he didn't stare at him, he could hear the pounding of his heart so clearly he could pinpoint where he was.

Jonathan let out a feral snarl, appearing in a blink in front of Gene. His eyes glanced over him, taking in the fact that the bandages on his throat were ripped apart, the small cut on his neck now much bigger and gushing blood. Jonathan grabbed hold of Gene's arms, gripping tightly, claws digging into the man's skin as he stared him in his terrified eyes.

"What happened?" Jonathan growled.

"He...he came back," Gene stuttered. "A-attacked me."

Jonathan's eyes narrowed to slits. As gently as he could, he extricated his claws from the flesh they were gouging. Not allowing himself the chance to grab hold once again of the bleeding man before him, Jonathan reached into his pockets for gauze, pulling it out. Roughly, he started wrapping it around the gash, blood running onto his hands as he struggled to complete the task. He was painfully aware of the warm, vibrant liquid coating his fingers which wanted to dig in and pull more out instead of covering it up. His mind was filled with violent thoughts, and it was all he could do to keep them directed towards the bastard that deserved them instead of letting them fuel his hungry thoughts.

By the time he was securing the wrapping in place, Jonathan's hands were shaking. The quality of the bandage job definitely suffered, but it would have to suffice for the trip back. Jonathan reached down and grabbed Gene, lifting him up, and up, closer to his face. So close. They were all alone. There'd be no witnesses. No one would know. Tentatively, something inside of him still trying to hold him back, Jonathan bridged the gap, lips grazing blood-slick flesh.

"Sir?" a voice squeaked.

Guilt overcame Jonathan and he froze. Yet again his control had nearly slipped completely. He lowered Gene away from his mouth, gaze dropping as he was unable to look him in the eye.
Jonathan left the godforsaken room, staggering a few times as he shadow jumped through the streets. His eyes kept wandering, first drawn to the neck wound, then trailing down the salaciously bloodied neck to his own hands dyed the same enticing red. What would the harm be in getting a little taste from his hands? Except he didn't trust himself to stop, to not immediately latch onto the nearby source. No, he must reject it entirely, shut out his body's wants.

Lost in thought as he was, fighting himself, he was shocked to find himself right by the tents that were set up in front of the hospital. He had jumped in farther than intended, and he hurriedly glanced around, checking if anyone had seen him. Seeing no one paying him any mind, Jonathan let out a small sigh of relief before continuing at a walk into the hospital.

During such a short walk, he began to pant. He had forgotten not to breathe in, the scent of blood filling his nose. First his hands, then his arms, and then his entire body began to tremble gently. It felt like he was fighting someone for control of his body, his thoughts fading in and out. He no longer noticed his surroundings, only the meal in his hands.

"Dr. Reid?" a voice asked, concerned.

Jonathan gave no indication of having heard, just standing there, unable to look at anything other than the red calling to him. There might have been other voices trying to get his attention, but they were drowned out by the thudding of hearts. Someone came towards him arms outstretched to grab hold of his prize. He clutched it closer to him, lip beginning to peel back in a snarl. Some part of him was screaming no, but no to what, he didn't know.

"Dr. Reid!" a new and very familiar voice shouted, coming closer. "Jonathan!" The desperation in it caused Jonathan to pause, trying to understand the situation he was in, what he had intended to do before he lost track of everything. "Jonathan! What are you doing here right now? Let Nurse Branagan take the man, and then leave! Go collect yourself, you shouldn't be here right now! You are in no condition to help out!"

Edgar! And it was Nurse Branagan reaching out to take Gene, a look of concern on her face. It was only then that he heard how loudly he was gasping and how much his strained body was shaking. A small crowd had formed, everyone's face showing varying degrees of worry. And there was Edgar, further away, a strained look on his face he was trying to pass off as just worry.

Clumsily, Jonathan set down the unconscious Gene, and Branagan swept in to take him. Then, before anyone could try to speak with him, Jonathan turned and left, mind still jumbled, steps unsteady.
He was keenly aware of the fangs in his mouth, jutting out insistently. The smell of blood still stoked his all-consuming hunger, his hands and clothes still being covered in it. He needed to hunt. Rats wouldn't be enough, so he pushed his senses to the limits, searching for skals. Hearing a tell-tale screech, he dashed off towards it.

A lone skal was fighting two Priwen guards. One of the guards was hanging back, taking aim with his rifle. The other was engaging the skal up close, attacking with a sword. None of them seemed to have noticed him yet.

Jonathan shadow jumped to right by the skal, ending up equally as close to the Priwen guard. The guard was startled by his sudden presence, fumbling a slash at the skal. The skal was less concerned by the sudden intrusion and took advantage of the guard's surprise, slashing out at him with its claws and nicking the skin of an arm.

Jonathan lunged, mouth opening to take a bite. It had been pure instinct that set him off, and he instantly realized he had grabbed the wrong target. The guard stared in terror, quaking.

"Oi! What the hell!" the gunman shouted, adjusting his aim to shoot at Jonathan instead of the skal.

Jonathan's hands flew off the man he was holding, and he whirled around as the skal jumped at him, attempting to latch on. He intercepted it, grabbing it by the shoulders and slamming it down to the ground. Straddling it, he savagely bit down on its neck, finally no longer needing to hold himself back. He took big gulps of the skal's blood, losing himself in the pleasure filling him, letting out small moans. Starved and needy as he was, he drained the skal much too quickly.

Jonathan straightened up, blood dripping messily from his lips. He casually glanced around, eyeing the guard that had backed away from him. The guard held his sword up in front of him defensively. He seemed to be hoping that Jonathan would not attack him, not believing in his ability to stop the ekon. Jonathan's hunger surged briefly, demanding more, but the blood he had just consumed allowed him to shove the feeling down enough to not act on it.

The gunman did not have a healthy amount of fear and fired. Jonathan barely managed to dodge out of the way in time, and he kept the momentum going, disappearing from their sight.

He left behind a guard who knew he had almost been eaten. The image of Jonathan staring at him like a meal for a man dying of hunger, blood dripping from his mouth, would haunt him.

Jonathan licked up what blood remained on his lips, savoring it. The high did not keep him from reflecting on the night's events. There were multiple people he needed to speak with. He could not let a repeat of tonight happen. He had gone right up to the edge of the abyss he feared he would fall into multiple times, only being dragged back by the timely intervention of others in almost all cases. He needed advice, but he also needed answers. Who was targeting him, for what purpose, and how could he find and eliminate them before they achieved their goal?

Chapter Text

Jonathan stepped out onto the balcony, shutting the door to the abandoned hovel he had spent the night in. It had been awhile since he had to resort to staying in such a place, and he was grateful to have found it still unoccupied. He felt that he could not return to the hospital last night, and it was out of the question to return home after leaving the way he had and with the state his clothes had been in. Luckily he had been able to scrounge up a needle and thread, and he'd done his best to repair the hole in his clothes. He had also done the best he could to clean off the blood, hoping to be able to walk around without arousing too much suspicion.

Checking first to make sure nobody was nearby, Jonathan dropped down to the street below, landing easily. A few snowflakes were blown through the air by a gust of wind, presumably a freezing cold one but Jonathan could barely feel the difference in temperature. He wondered how many people would be out on such a frigid night.

The sound of a gunshot nearby meant there was at least one person braving the cold. Rounding the corner, Jonathan saw Booth practicing his shot. He seemed slightly startled by Jonathan's sudden appearance.

"Good evening, Mr. Digby," Jonathan greeted him.

"Evening doc. Didn't even hear you coming, you stealthy bastard." Booth lowered his arm and holstered his gun.

"Sorry if I startled you."

"You didn't."

"Of course." Jonathan paused before continuing, want to sate his curiosity, "I have to ask: did you ever follow through on your plan to attack Mr. Hampton?"

Booth frowned. "No, I changed my mind. Wasn't the right time for that kind of thing. I wanted to make sure there was the proper weight to making an example of him."

"And here I was worried you had become a moral and upright fellow," Jonathan said with a grin, eyes glinting with humor.

"Spare me your sarcasm or you might just join the list of people I need to have respect beaten into." Booth was staring at Jonathan, squinting as his eyes landed on Jonathan's shoulder, the one that had been hit by the blood spear. "That outfit's seen better days. Thought you were some fancy doctor that didn't have to go around in stained and patched up clothing. And I could swear those stains are bloodstains."

Jonathan shrugged nonchalantly. "I am a doctor. I will admit this outfit has seen better days, but I haven't gotten around to getting rid of it yet. I'll leave you to your shooting, but don't stay at it for too long. You wouldn't want to catch a cold now, would you?"

Booth grumbled, but didn't offer any further retorts. Exiting through the nearby gate, Jonathan heard him start shooting at the wall again.

Jonathan hadn't been too surprised to hear that Booth hadn't gone through with the attack. He did vent a lot and make some grand statements, but it seemed his bark was worse than his bite. He was getting a little too curious about Jonathan for his comfort. The man was already paranoid about creatures of the night, it wouldn't be a huge leap for him to actually suspect Jonathan's true nature.

The wind continued to gust, cutting right through his coat, making Jonathan glad he wouldn't freeze. He didn't come across anyone else willing to be outside as he made his way to Elisabeth's house. Jonathan knocked and waited, staring down at his coat and trying to decide if it could be salvaged. When Elisabeth came to answer the door after a few short moments, there was a look of surprise on her face.

"Came to visit me again already?"

"Yes. Something happened last night after I left you, and I need your advice."

"You look grim. And those bloodstains were not there when I last saw you. I assume you have found yourself in some trouble again. Or rather, trouble has found you. Come in, and you can explain what happened. I will try to help you as I can."

Jonathan followed her, eager to talk to someone about what had happened. They had barely sat down when he launched into a summary of the previous night's events. As he described how he nearly lost himself to thirst, Elisabeth looked at him with a mixture of concern and sympathy. Then he described his foe. "The first thing I noticed were his eyes: they were completely inhuman. His sclera were pitch black, his irises blood red, and his pupils were slit like a snake's. I have never seen an ekon with eyes like that."

"This is terrible news. Only the worst ekons possess such eyes, the ones without restraint who feed freely, piling up corpses without remorse. Normally they are hunted down upon discovery by either the Guard or the Brotherhood, making them rare. Why such a creature would concern itself with you is beyond me."

"He kept referring to himself as my 'brother.' He did not seem like a child of Myrddin, unless he had fallen so completely. And he mentioned kindred, as though there were others like him. Myrddin may not be forthright about anything, but I should like to think he would have the courtesy to warn me if he had a group of progeny so abhorrent."

"Perhaps he meant something else. Whether he is truly your sibling or not, does that change anything?"

"No. I will put an end to him," Jonathan said coldly. "I only wish I knew more about him. He seemed intent on getting me to feed on the humans he had restrained. I...almost did, again and again. The scent of blood was thick on the air, and he kept pushing me closer to it." Jonathan rested his forehead in his hand, casting his eyes downward. "Keeping my hunger in check took its toll on me; I nearly fed right in front of everyone in the hospital!" He dug his fingernails in slightly.

"But you did control yourself," Elisabeth said softly. "How did you find yourself in that situation?"

"The ekon escaped. I wanted to chase him down, but I had to tend to the wounded. I had planned on only carrying one of them back to the hospital, but learned the ambulance was unavailable and decided to bring them all back myself. It turns out the bastard hadn't gone far. When I came to pick up the last victim, I found his neck torn up and bleeding profusely. On my way back, it felt like I was slipping in and out of consciousness, lost as I was to the hunger. I lost all awareness of my surroundings. Edgar brought me back to reality. If he hadn't been there..."

Elisabeth gently placed a hand on his. "You did not succumb to the hunger. Dwelling on what might have been is pointless. You have been able to abstain this whole time, and you will be able to continue doing so. I am afraid I do not have much advice to offer you beyond that. If you do find yourself slipping again, just try to always remain thinking of them as humans, people with lives you do not wish to end. The danger comes when your thoughts are so overtaken you only see things to be consumed."

Jonathan sighed. "Yes. If only I could keep my thoughts coherent long enough. I suppose that gives me something to work on improving."

"I believe in you, Jonathan. And I wish to support you in your troubles. I will try investigating this man, make some inquiries with people I know. I will also see if I can track him down myself. Please, come tell me of any new developments or if you ever need any help."

"Thank you, Elisabeth. It is reassuring to know you are helping me."

"I will do everything in my power to help you put an end to this." Elisabeth gave his hand a squeeze before releasing it.

Jonathan stood up. "I should return to the hospital before my absence becomes even more conspicuous."

"Take care."

Walking through the streets, Jonathan started becoming anxious, wondering how everyone who had witnessed him practically lose control would react to him now. He had no idea the extent of what they had seen or how their minds had interpreted it. He was busy running through potential scenarios in his head when the sound of a gunshot nearby snapped him back to the present.

Jonathan let out a strangled yell, clutching at his chest as he was shot once in the shoulder and once just barely to the right of his heart. A third shot immediately followed them, tearing through his knee. He collapsed down onto it, crying out in pain as the fresh injury smacked into the hard ground. Surprised by the fact he had been caught completely off-guard, Jonathan's eyes darted around, looking for his assailant.

"McCullum! Why in God's name did you shoot me?" he called out, annoyed, as he saw the man standing by a street corner.

McCullum glared at him, a rage in his eyes that reminded Jonathan of their encounter in the hospital, when the man had been hurling accusations at him, believing him to be behind the epidemic. McCullum advanced towards Jonathan, gun aimed steadily at his head. "Don't pretend to be full of righteous indignation. You're the one who has much to answer for."

Jonathan furrowed his eyebrows, confused. "What are you talking about? I thought we had a truce."

McCullum barked out a short, humorless laugh. "Funny. I thought the same thing, leech," he spat. "Do you know what one of my men told me last night? You attacked them, unprovoked, and attempted to drink their blood. You're not stupid enough to not have noticed I gave the Guard orders to leave you be. That means you're the one who broke the truce with your treachery."

"That's what this is about? I didn't harm him. All this violence is unwarranted." Jonathan began to stand back up again, the wounds starting to heal.

McCullum fired off a warning shot right by Jonathan's head as he rose. "I will decide how much violence is warranted. Now answer my questions or my next shot will be the last thing that passes through your head."

Jonathan curled his lips up, baring his fangs, but declined to retort.

"Why did you attack my men?"

"I didn't harm them, so I don't know why you keep saying I 'attacked' them," Jonathan said. A warning gesture from McCullum caused him to frown and cut his grievance short. "I was trying to hunt some skals. I...was not in the best of conditions last night and needed to feed. It just so happened the first skal I came across was fighting your men already. Due to the state I was in, I wasn't thinking very clearly and so failed to properly alert your men to the fact I would be joining the fray and eliminating their target for them."

"My men said you attacked them."

"I was getting to that," Jonathan spat, nearly as pissed off as McCullum now, the pain from the gunshot wounds not doing any favors. The fact that McCullum seemed able to go from potentially friends to vengeful enemies again at the drop of a hat even after everything Jonathan had done added to the aggravation. "My sudden appearance distracted your men, causing the skal to land a hit on the one in melee with it. Instead of going for the skal, I found myself going for the bleeding man, but I corrected myself as soon as I realized! I never intended to attack either of your men."

"Is your self-control that weak? For you to unintentionally almost murder my men is not any better. I shouldn't have to spell this out for you, but you're a stupidly powerful bloodsucker. If you can't control your bloodlust, there's no telling how much death and destruction you could cause, not to mention how much harder you'd be to put down."

"I'm well aware!" Jonathan snapped, clenching his fists. "Believe me when I say that the thought haunts me. So I have decided if I ever slip up, I would come to you and place my life in your hands. I trust you to end me before I lose myself."

Seeing how utterly serious Jonathan was, McCullum lowered his gun and shifted awkwardly. "Yeah, you can trust me to do the job." Uncomfortable with the topic, he decided to change it. "Now what the hell happened last night that made you such a mess? My men told me you attacked that skal like a beast, then proceeded to eye them up."

"My apologies to your men for having to witness such a gruesome sight. I know how delicate their constitutions are. I shall try to exsanguinate my victim in a more gentlemanly manner next time." Finished with his sarcasm, Jonathan sobered up. "Actually, I do have something important to tell you. There is a dangerous ekon I have never seen before here in London that seems to have a disturbing interest in me. He finally revealed himself to me last night, luring me into some sort of trap with bleeding humans to tempt me. Unfortunately he got away, and I had to tend to the victims. Restraining myself while surrounded by blood for so long wore me down. That's why I attacked that skal so savagely."

"An unknown leech? Was he strong enough that he actually gave you trouble?"

"He seemed like he may be at least as powerful as me, but we hardly fought before he fled. I have been told he has the eyes of a hedonist, so he is certainly not one to be taken lightly."

McCullum ran a hand through his hair. "So you're telling me there's some mysterious, powerful leech running around London, and my men haven't even reported it yet? And this leech has taken an interest in you specifically? And this same leech is well-fed and unabashedly evil? Christ, Reid. I swear trouble seems to always be surrounding you."

"Maybe it's something my Maker's children have to deal with. We were made to deal with strife, so perhaps we attract it. If I do run into the ekon again, I intend to kill him. I thought it would be best to inform you of such a threat to London, although at this moment I can't say that I know what he is after. If you do come across him, be careful."

"I suppose I owe you a thanks for the tip-off. I'll be sure to tell my men to be on the lookout for this horrible ekon of yours, but not to engage him if he's able to give you a run for your money."

"Is that part of the reason why you told your men to not attack me? You don't want to worry about them needlessly dying seeing as how they would stand no chance against me?" Not that Jonathan would actually kill them anymore.

McCullum folded his arms, raising an eyebrow. "You think awful highly of yourself, huh? But you're not wrong. Even I couldn't beat you with King Arthur's blood. It'd have to be a well thought-out and coordinated attack, not some random skirmish in the streets. Though I better not hear from my men that you attacked them again or I'll just have to let them decide for themselves how they want to deal with you."

"I suppose that's fair. I've just been...caught off guard by all of this. I thought I had gotten past the worst of the violence and bloodshed, that I could finally try to settle into a peaceful existence after accomplishing what I had been made to do. I guess I was naive for thinking that. I thought I was finally getting a handle on my condition...on smothering my horrible impulses."

"I have never heard of a vampire that never drinks human blood. I cannot believe you could last an eternity like that. I don't know why I don't do you a mercy and kill you before it happens. Guess I'm just too soft."

"I would say you aren't completely unreasonable. You know I want to protect and heal people, not kill them."

"Yeah. The part of you that's speaking with me." A heavy silence fell on them for a moment before McCullum spoke again, "Enjoy the warning shots I gave you. The next ones will be the last you ever get." With that, McCullum turned, his coat flaring out behind him dramatically, punctuating his ending remark. Jonathan watched him go in silence, contemplating the moments where McCullum hadn't said anything, speculating about what the hunter couldn't bring himself to say to his face.

Clothes freshly bloodied and filled with additional holes, Jonathan used the balcony entrance to his room upon reaching the hospital. He stripped out of his poor, abused clothing before going over to the sink and scrubbing the remaining traces of blood off of him. Finally clean, he found a shirt to put on and was in the middle of buttoning it up when he heard a knock on the door. Glancing over to it, he saw that it was Edgar behind it.

"You can come in," Jonathan called as he finished buttoning up.

Edgar walked in, a serious expression on his face. "Jonathan, we need to have a talk about what happened last night."

"I agree. I was going to come talk with you once I finished making myself more presentable."

"What were you thinking, Jonathan?" Edgar asked, practically shouting in his agitation. The burst of emotion caught Jonathan off guard. "Need I list all the utterly foolish risks you took? And I had to fabricate an excuse for your abnormal behavior. You are lucky your mesmerization seems to have kept them from realizing the truth. Still, you nearly bit into someone right in the middle of the hospital!"

"Edgar, I apologize for-"

"I wasn't done yet," Edgar cut him off icily. "Allow me to finish. It is one thing if you believe your will is so strong that you will not fall to temptation even when you are surrounded by it. It is another to thrust temptation upon me. I have been trying to abstain as you do and it is very difficult for me, I admit. So I do not need you compounding my troubles! Last night, while I was doing some rounds I was suddenly struck by an overwhelming thirst. It was your thirst! And it surged multiple times with you bringing in bleeding patients, culminating in the scene you made. I nearly joined you in your stupor. Who knows what would have happened if I had?"

"I'm sorry Edgar," Jonathan said, entirely sincere, now realizing what he had done to Edgar. His bond with his progeny was still something he was continually learning more about, and what would happen if he had such intense feelings wasn't something he had thought about before. "I failed to consider the effect I was having on you or how difficult I was making it for you. I promise not to put you in such a situation again."

"Yes, well, I believe you old friend," Edgar said, calmed down. "I only wish you had been properly mindful without my having to complain to you like this. Now, I should like to know more about the events of last night."

Jonathan described the ekon and the sick game he had set up. When he finished, Edgar looked worried.

"Jonathan, in the Brotherhood we have a ritual called the Ban of the Dragon. Whenever there is a particularly heinous vampire threatening London, we call a ban upon them. The 'dragon' is then eliminated. All dragons have those eyes, and presumably that is part of the reason why they are called such."

"I had read about the ban. So it really does exist? Remind me to never get on Talltree's bad side."

"Out of the two of us, I would say you have less of a need to be concerned." Edgar sighed. "Do be careful, Jonathan. You are vincible and fallible." He paused, as though he wished to say something more but didn't. "I wish you luck in dealing with this vicious ekon."

"Thank you, Edgar. And once again, I am sorry for being inconsiderate."

Once Edgar left, Jonathan finished getting changed and then started to make his rounds. As Edgar had said, nobody reacted to him any differently from normal which was a great relief. He went to check on the four he had brought in last night, but found them all currently sleeping. Over the next few days, he visited them earlier in the night and talked with them. The three who had promised not to blab seemed like they could be trusted to keep his secret. Lou remained obstinate but unable to do anything about it. Jonathan considered directing him to McCullum and getting the hunter to either straighten him out or harness his hatred of vampires for the Guard.

During this time, there was no sign of the ekon. Jonathan heard no word from either Elisabeth or McCullum about having seen the ekon either. He wasn't sure if he should be relieved or worried about his disappearance. At least the ekon wasn't making a scene massacring people, but he could be biding his time for a new, sinister plot.

The day came when the four he had rescued were released from the hospital, and Jonathan said goodbye to them, hoping they wouldn't find themselves in a similar situation again. He went to sleep contented that morning, glad there had been no casualties and he had successfully saved everyone despite the circumstances. Everything had turned out alright.

Jonathan opened his eyes and saw nothing. He blinked rapidly a few times, but it was still pitch-black, and he realized he was not laying down but sitting up. He tried to move his hands but found he couldn't. He could barely move his legs. Concentrating, he used his vampiric senses to attempt to gain some knowledge of the situation he was in. He flinched as he saw an ekon just a few inches in front of him, crouching down to be at eye level.

"Hello again, brother."

Chapter Text

"What do you want with me ?" Jonathan asked with a snarl, throwing himself as far forward as he could, trying to slash at the ekon with his claws. Struggling against his bonds, he could hear the clink of metal chains and felt their weight. They seemed like they would be impossible for him to break, but he still flailed forwards, just short of his goal.

The ekon let out a chuckle. "Finally asking me? But you haven't even bothered to ask for my name yet, Dr. Reid. I feel as though introductions are long overdue. My name is Lawrence Kerr. And of course I already know yours. But beyond that, I know you are spawn of Myrddin, that traitorous meddler. Which brings me to what I want with you."

Upon the mention of Myrddin, Jonathan froze up. Despite now having a name for the ekon, he knew next to nothing about him while seemingly the ekon knew facts about Jonathan that only a few of those closest to him knew.

"Perhaps it is more accurate to say 'what we want with you.'"

Jonathan felt cold fingers on his cheek and realized Kerr was caressing him, causing him to dig his back into the wall and turn his face away in a futile attempt to escape him. His instincts were screaming about how dangerous he was and how disgusting his touch felt.

"I certainly did not decide on my own to come all the way here and track you down for this. If it were solely up to me, I would have come here with a much simpler purpose." Kerr paused, grabbing hold of Jonathan's chin with a painfully tight grip. "To kill you." He let go with a sigh. "Others are more sadistic than me and prone to more convoluted machinations. I follow the will of my brethren, even if I do not always agree with it."

Gritting his teeth, Jonathan cut in, "Are you going to answer my question or continue your pointless monologue?"

"Patience. I was getting to that." Kerr straightened up from his crouch with ease before starting to pace in front of Jonathan. "You are the antithesis of us, in many ways. It is not enough that you are a son of Myrddin, you also continue to act like a human, act like a doctor , saving as many mortal lives as you can. You starve yourself, lessening yourself. You are allied with the Guard of Priwen, the worst scum. So many offenses punishable by immolation. But the pyre is not enough; it is too mundane. For one as abhorrent as you, what better way to get revenge for returning our Mother to her slumber than to cause you to 'fall?' How deep your despair and anguish will be before you join us as our awakened brother."

"I will never join you," Jonathan said, struggling to sound confident. Already his mind was racing with possibilities of what Kerr intended to do to him. If "fall" meant what he thought it did... He clenched his fists, nails digging into the palms of his hands.

"I acknowledge your obstinacy. Your actions during our last encounter have convinced me of your mental fortitude. Everyone has a limit, however. I endeavor to find yours."

Once more, Kerr crouched down, leaning in close to Jonathan, invading his personal space and making his skin crawl. "There are certain acts we consider taboo." Kerr ran a finger over Jonathan's upper lip. "Drinking blood from an unwilling vampire is one of them." As he said this, he lifted up a corner of Jonathan's lips, finding his teeth clenched tightly underneath, his fangs protruding slightly. Teasingly slowly, Kerr slid his finger down the length of a fang. Once he reached the tip, he pressed the pad of his finger up into the sharpened point until he began to bleed. Jonathan didn't budge, the idea of drinking the ekon's blood in such a way utterly repulsive to him.

"No?" Kerr smeared his blood across Jonathan's lips as he withdrew his finger. "You will come to regret rejecting this gift I offered you. It will be the last gift I offer you for some time." A quick flick of his tongue cleaned the blood off the pad of his finger. "To take blood from one of our own kind without consent is one of the worst sins. Blood is so important to us after all. Committing such a heinous act seems the perfect way to start."

Kerr knelt down, a knee on either side of Jonathan's left leg as he leaned in closer. The feeling of being trapped only grew for Jonathan as the weight of the other began to press against him even as he made a desperate last attempt to break the chains that bound him, violently throwing his arms forward with all of his strength to no avail. It didn't feel like his restraints weakened at all, only digging further into the now tender flesh of his wrists.

He considered launching a blood spear at his captor, but for what purpose? He was at a severe disadvantage, making it unlikely he could incapacitate Kerr for very long, let alone kill him. Pissing him off would probably only make things worse.

Jonathan tensed as Kerr shoved his head to the side, fully exposing his neck. The ekon pressed up against him, an arm snaking around Jonathan's waist in a sick form of an embrace. Kerr's fangs lightly skimmed Jonathan's neck without piercing the flesh, dragging down the length of his neck and causing Jonathan to shiver. Kerr paused, mouth hovering just above his throat, drawing the moment of dread out. Jonathan held his breath, freezing in anticipation, waiting and waiting...

Kerr bit down.

Intense pain shot through Jonathan, and he cried out as his body jolted, his restraints digging further into his skin. Kerr tightened his hold on Jonathan in response to his sudden movement, preventing him from being able to try to move away at all now. Jonathan drew in a few ragged breaths, body trembling before he was able to calm himself and get his breathing back to normal. He didn't wish to grant Kerr the satisfaction of reveling in his pain. He would endure the pain stoically. So he did with gritted teeth and clenched fists.

Kerr started off languidly drinking Jonathan's blood, in no rush to drain him, dragging it out. The slow pace didn't last for long before Kerr began gulping it down in long draughts. Jonathan felt alarmed at how quickly he was losing blood, becoming lightheaded. The insistent squeezing, unnatural flow of his blood, and the cold lips mouthing at his neck made him want to escape in any way he could.

Desperate, Jonathan tried reaching out with his mind to Edgar, to tell him he was in trouble. He had no way to know if he was successful, and he regretted not testing out their connection until he had a basic understanding of it. Even if he had succeeded, he wasn't sure if Edgar would be able to find him, having no idea of where he was himself. Still, it was the only thing he could think to do.

As his strength waned, his body going limp and heart stilling, his mind drifted. He recalled his fateful last night as a human, how Myrddin had drained him as Kerr was now draining him, bringing him so close to death. But there was no true death. No finality, no escape. His own attempt on his life had failed; he had endured countless injuries since his rebirth, would have been dead many times over if he were still living. Now once again he was right on the edge of death without being able to cross over it.

The thought should terrify him, he knew; it was only the beginning but he could spend an eternity being tormented without the sweet release of death. He had no energy for emotions, however.

The numbness didn't last long. Hunger came roaring up within him, smothering all other feelings, even the pain of the wounds inflicted upon him. The pain of his bodily injuries paled in comparison to the pain that took over as his thirst intensified. It rivaled the thirst he had felt upon waking and that had driven him mindlessly to murder his sister.

His fangs extended fully, aching insistently. There was a blood source nearby, if not exactly what was desired. His head turned towards it, despite previously lacking the energy to move. Biting at the air, struggling to reach it, he was held back by the unyielding force pushing his head to the side. He snarled, refusing to give up. He only stopped moving again when blackness overtook him.

He faded in and out of consciousness, the all-consuming hunger only growing whenever the empty darkness lost its grip on him.

Sharp pain tore through Jonathan, driving the breath from his lungs and causing him to violently jerk back. The pain originated from his abdomen, and he could feel blood sluggishly leaking from the wound. He found that he was no longer sitting but was now in a kneeling position, still blindfolded. As he reached out with his vampiric senses, all he found was his tormentor.

The pain did grant him some clarity, his hunger no longer drowning out everything else. Remembering his lapse in lucidity, Jonathan felt panic welling up within him. His mind had gone blank...

"Awake once more? Truly awake and not a mere vessel for your thirst to control?" Kerr asked mockingly. He paused, and Jonathan felt the dagger that had been used to stab him being withdrawn, causing more of his blood to come gushing out. "I do not expect you to remain cognizant for long."

Jonathan choked as he felt an even worse burst of pain in his neck. Breathing became impossible, his trachea sliced through. Fueled by desperation, Jonathan reached out to the shadows, pulling them into something more solid before making a fist and launching them at his captor. A few thin spikes tore through Kerr's feet and legs, but the damage didn't seem to phase him.

"Oh, so you are going to try to fight back after all? It finally dawned on you how dire your circumstances are? Still, I would not want you getting any foolish ideas."

With a quick, fluid motion, the dagger was removed from Jonathan's throat before it was stabbed through the hand he had used to direct the shadows. Jonathan tried to cry out, only making choked sounds as he curled his fingers around the new source of pain.

"You have no hope of escape. No hope of defeating me.” The blade was twisted, tearing apart the offending hand and eliciting pained moans. “While you cannot do any real harm to me, your prickling blows annoy me. If you choose to attempt to harm me, I will make things worse for you. And you may not think I can make it much worse for you," Kerr said, voice dropping to a sinister whisper as he leaned in close to Jonathan, "but I can." Dragging his tongue across the cut, he licked up some of the blood seeping out of the hole in Jonathan's throat. "Hmm, definitely a lesser quality than yesterday's."

Jonathan couldn't help but feel grateful that Kerr only took the small taste. He hoped he would never be forced to endure having his blood drained by Kerr again. Unfortunately it seemed no matter the method of his exsanguination, the result would be the same. Already all the blood he was losing was causing his hunger to claw its way back to the forefront of his thoughts.

"I must admit you heal better than I expected, a testament to the strength of your blood. That just means I have to work harder to ensure you remain starving. Enjoy your awareness while you can." Kerr yanked the dagger out of Jonathan's hand, not deigning to lick anymore of his blood up. "I shall return tomorrow."

As Kerr's footsteps faded away, Jonathan took stock of his condition. The first wound was still slowly healing itself while the second and third were almost unchanged. His thoughts were becoming frantic as he felt the hunger growing, remembering what had happened last time, wondering if at some point he would not be able to surface again. Would he become a slave to his hunger?

Kneeling there with nothing to distract him from his hunger,  Jonathan’s mind wandered...

Blood. Not holding back. The one and only time he had lost himself so completely to it. The one and only time he had experienced such bliss. Warmth flooded him, heating up his corpse-cold body. He was alive again.

In a room, the scent of blood so thick on the air he could taste it. The sweet liquid flowing from the doomed man. Inviting him to taste. And why shouldn’t he? Lifting him up, taking a bite, hastening his end. He savored every drop he drank.

An old, repugnant man surrounded by decadence. Waiting for him . He did not deserve immortality. Without it, he would soon die. And who would mourn his passing? The man could still be of use. The death he so dreaded could have purpose. His pathetic squirming only increased the pleasure Jonathan felt as he drained him of what little life he had left.

The vivid hallucinations continued, haunting him. Imagining partaking of the forbidden fruit without any self-restraint. A variety of scenarios, a variety of victims. All the same end. Occasionally he would try to stop his traitorous mind, get himself to focus on thoughts of those he cared about most: his mother, Elisabeth, Edgar… But it was a losing battle.

He found himself lost in another morbid daydream. He was walking into a hidden room, assaulted by the smell of freshly spilt blood. One already dead. The other, nonchalant despite his crime. Jonathan was also nonchalant as he approached the murderer. Too late his victim realized his intent. That the murderer would find his end at the hands of another murderer. Jonathan slipped into unconsciousness, a small smile playing at his lips, darkly amused by the poetic justice of Seymour’s end.

The next day Jonathan woke, his senses fuzzy except for his vampiric ones which seemed heightened. Once again Kerr inflicted new wounds upon him, commenting on the sluggishness of his blood before leaving him to bleed.

Jonathan was surprised when Kerr returned, and Jonathan froze up when he could tell his captor was not alone. The deafening thud of a steady, strong, healthy heartbeat filled his ears, making it near impossible for him to register the fact that Kerr said something, let alone for him to try to interpret it. Kerr had brought back a human.

Jonathan wasn't sure if the human noticed him; they didn't exclaim in surprise to see a man bloodied and in chains. His initial fear was squashed as the human was not led over to him, but rather Kerr had them sit down next to him on a sofa.

The intoxicating scent of blood filled the air as Kerr bit into his victim, and immediately Jonathan found himself reaching out towards it, straining against his shackles even as it exacerbated his wounds. The smell of the blood, the sounds of it being gulped down, and his thirst combined to make him need to be the one drinking the human dry. He continued struggling for a few more moments before he became aware of what it was he was lusting after. A person, being murdered right in front of him, and he was desperate to be the murderer!

Kerr apparently noticed Jonathan stilling and paused in his drinking to draw back and let the scent fill the air, overriding Jonathan's weak grasp on his morals. Jonathan's nostrils flared as he tried to take in as much of it as he could. He let out a small growl as Kerr went back to his meal. This taunting was maddening, and Jonathan struggled to think of the victim as more than just something to be consumed.

The internal battle continued until Kerr drained the last drop of blood. Grabbing the corpse to dispose of it, he took time to turn and face the snarling and grasping Jonathan, praising him in a honeyed tone, "Such good progress."

With the blood source gone, Jonathan regained enough awareness to understand Kerr’s words. He hung his head in shame. He was behaving as Kerr expected him to. At this rate, he would end up exactly how Kerr wanted him.

For the next few days, the routine was much the same. Kerr would come and inflict wounds upon Jonathan, letting him slowly bleed out and become weakened and starved. While Jonathan was still conscious, Kerr would bring back a victim and tease Jonathan by drinking their blood in front of him.

On the third day of doing this, Kerr removed the blindfold from Jonathan. Blinking at the sudden change in light after spending so long in the dark, Jonathan struggled to take in his surroundings. All the color leeched out of his vision except for the vivid, pulsing red so close and yet so far from him. He focused entirely on the red, barely registering Kerr’s presence.

All he knew was his need for the blood and the cruelty of him not being the one to drink it. This time he didn't put up much of a fight. Jonathan was unable to surface, lost in his bloodlust.

Edgar, I've been captured.

Edgar froze up at the sound of Jonathan's voice invading his thoughts, instantly being overcome with worry both due to the contents of the message and the feelings that flooded him, accompanying Jonathan's words. There was a mixture of pain and growing exhaustion.

Please, I need your help. Find me. I...I don't know how much longer I can hold out...

Overcome momentarily by a wave of light-headedness, Edgar clutched at his head. He had to take a few deep breaths to regain his composure as he felt the dimming of Jonathan's consciousness, the voice in his head fading near the end. All he could do was sit there for a few minutes, trying to process what had just happened. Jonathan had reached out to him, needed his help! And it sounded like he was on the verge of death.

Edgar got to his feet unsteadily, putting his hands on his desk to brace himself. He just stood there for a moment in the silence. The quiet was deafening as he struggled to figure out a course of action.

If Jonathan needed him and if he had been bested, whoever had captured him was quite possibly stronger than Jonathan. Edgar was no fighter. He could barely take on a lone skal by himself, and he had certainly never attempted to go toe to toe with a vulkod or ekon. What could he possibly hope to do? But he couldn't just abandon Jonathan to his predicament. Perhaps the mental connection they had could help guide Edgar to Jonathan.

Steeling himself, Edgar left Pembroke, trying not to attract too much attention. He didn't have a lie prepared for why he was leaving and he was too distressed to pull his thoughts together enough to come up with something believable. The fact that his anxiety was only growing as the connection seemed to fade in and out wasn't helping.

Jonathan's hunger joined his own, and Edgar could feel his own fangs crowding his mouth. As he walked the streets, he had to pause in the shadows a few times as such intense longing for a neck to bite into overcame him. He continued struggling as he attempted to pinpoint what direction Jonathan was in. Eventually he felt nothing in his head, though he continued his search until he was chased back to his home by the impending dawn.

The following night, after having some time to properly think things through, he realized he should enlist some help. Before continuing his search, he stopped by Elisabeth's manor and was relieved to find her there. Upon hearing what had happened and what he was trying to do, she agreed to help him search for Jonathan. After last night's searching, Edgar felt almost certain that Jonathan was somewhere east of the hospital, possibly in Whitechapel, so they split up to search different parts of the district and surrounding areas.

Using his vampiric senses, Edgar peered into the buildings he passed in the hopes of spotting Jonathan. He did his best to not seem too suspicious and mostly tried to avoid people's sight lines, know it was odd for him to be wandering around such a seedy neighborhood.

The pangs of hunger returned, strangely comforting since that let Edgar know that Jonathan hadn't been killed yet. He did find himself scanning the streets for rats in addition to his looking for Jonathan. He found a few in an empty alleyway and slipped into it. With a quick lunge, he grabbed one up, biting into it with more gusto than usual although his nose still wrinkled in disgust. The taste was horrendous, but he kept reminding himself it was better than the alternative.

Right as he snatched up a second rat, he heard a voice behind him. "What the hell do you think you're doing here, Swansea?"

Edgar froze up, hunched over his still squirming prize. Once he registered who it was, he loosened his grip, letting the rat slip out of his hand. He was rewarded with a bite on his thumb. Cautiously, he turned around to see a disgusted Geoffrey McCullum standing at the end of the alley. Belatedly he realized he still had some blood on his face from his first snack and he did his best to lick it up quickly.

"Attempting to sate my thirst with rats. Why should you care?" Edgar said snippily.

"This is an awful long way from your hospital. I've seen you slinking around, and there's no way you can convince me it was just to hunt rats. Those bloody things are everywhere."

Edgar's lip curled up in a snarl, rather short-tempered when it came to McCullum ever since his men had practically killed him. "I don't have to answer to you. I'm not hurting anyone, so why don't you just scurry along and find another 'leech' to harass and kill."

"Does Reid know what you're up to?"

Edgar opened his mouth to retort, but winced instead as he felt a spike of pain in his head. He staggered back a step, clutching at his forehead, eyes lowered toward the ground. The world seemed to waver at the edges of his vision.

"Something wrong with you?" Geoffrey asked.

The pain began to ebb, but it was replaced with hunger. Edgar glanced up at Geoffrey again, eyes focusing on his neck. He was mentally calculating whether the risk and the aftermath would be worth it for him to drain the hunter dry. After what had happened to him at the hands of the hunter's underlings, Edgar found it hard to convince himself that Geoffrey deserved to live. Like an insidious poison, the hunger colored his thoughts. Anything to justify appeasing it.

Lifting his arm to aim his crossbow, Geoffrey warned, "Quit looking at me like that, leech, or I'll put a few bolts in you. You're eyeing me like I'm a Sunday roast."

It was enough to break Edgar out of his bloodlust. Rubbing wearily at his forehead, he sighed. "To answer your question: no, Jonathan is not aware of what I am doing right now. He's being held captive. He reached out to me for help, so that's why I have been 'slinking around' as you put it. It seems he's being tortured, and so due to our bond I am sharing in some of his suffering. Hence my abnormal behavior."

"He's been kidnapped?" Geoffrey asked, incredulous. "By who?"

"I am not entirely certain. My only guess is an ekon that had an interest in him."

"Shit. It's probably the one Reid tried to warn me about. Should’ve done a better job taking his own advice. And now you're left unsupervised again?"

Already not in the best of moods, McCullum's words and the tone he said them in caused Edgar to snap. "I am not some untrustworthy child! Jonathan does not need to constantly watch over me to make sure I don't do something sinister. I do not need all these biting remarks from you. He may try to hide it, but I know what Jonathan thinks of me. That I am only one step away from causing another epidemic. That he still questions whether he should have just allowed me to die. I'm not sure if I will ever cease to be a villain in his eyes, whether he will ever truly trust me again. So really, I am well aware of what you must think of me. Just remember it is your own fault that I am such a source of worry for you."

"You're the one whose hands are stained with the blood of innocents,” Geoffrey countered, moving his crossbow arm up slightly before stopping himself. “Now's not the time for this argument, though. Do you have any idea where Reid is?"

Edgar pressed his lips into a thin line, finding it hard not to retort. The task at hand was enough to get him to set aside his grievances for now. "My connection with him feels stronger around here in Whitechapel, but I have not had any luck pinpointing it further yet. The strength of it ebbs and flows, and I do not believe it is entirely due to proximity. Another problem is that I cannot sense him when he's unconscious." Even as he was saying this, Edgar could feel the hunger dying down, Jonathan's presence disappearing. "Are you actually concerned about him that you're asking? Wanting to join the rescue effort?"

Geoffrey put on a big show of scoffing. "No, I'm more concerned with finding the ekon that kidnapped him. I'll not have a leech like that traipsing around my city. The Guard will destroy it before it can terrorize the people we’ve sworn to protect."

Edgar shrugged. "However you wish to justify it. Lady Ashbury has already joined me in my search. I am willing to put our bad blood aside temporarily. Getting Jonathan back is paramount, and the longer he is gone, the more I fear for him."

"You're willing to put up with all this for a man that you just made it sound like despises you?" Geoffrey asked, eyebrows raised. The death glare from Edgar warned him from pressing any further. "Whatever, it's between you two. None of my stinking business.” He waved a hand dismissively. “I'll agree to a truce until we clean up this mess Reid's found himself in. I'll have my guards on the lookout, although we can't exactly ransack every house."

"If I find him, I will report it to you or your guards. I have my own...limitations."

When the two parted, Edgar could feel despair overtaking him. Jonathan was already unconscious again, making it highly unlikely Edgar would be able to find him for yet another night. He used his vampiric vision to search through buildings, desperate. What if he wouldn't actually be able to see Jonathan this way? Vampires' hearts didn't necessarily always beat. He could have already passed him over without even knowing.

"Where are you, Jonathan?" Edgar whispered to himself, voice tremulous.

He had to find him. He had to save him.

Chapter Text

"Thank you for your time. Get in touch with any of the Guard if you do happen across anything that might help us."

As the door was shut, Geoffrey left, sighing to himself. He had tried to ask someone the Guard had saved from skals a few weeks ago if they had seen anything out of the ordinary, namely their elusive ekon. It had proven to be yet another dead end. Returning to the two men he had taken out searching with him, his frustration only grew.

"I don't remember giving you permission to take a smoke break," Geoffrey said, taking in the sight of the two men doing fuck all.

Kersey took a long drag before similarly leisurely exhaling a cloud of smoke. "Took it on myself to declare one. Not much happening tonight. Haven't ran into any leeches."

Geoffrey scowled, fighting the urge to punch the cigarette right out of Kersey's mouth. Such a flagrant show of disrespect was rare. "You're a member of the Guard, so best start acting like it. Or you can go join a gang and live up to your full potential as a meat-headed thug. I have no need for someone who cannot do even the simplest of things."

"And what are we doing, sir? Trying to rescue a leech based on some story we were told by another leech. Probably wasting our time or a fucking trap. Not Guard work at all."

"So you not only can't follow simple directions, you also seem to lack the ability to listen. We're trying to track down a violent, powerful leech. That Reid happened to be kidnapped by them just means we have a better chance of finding them."

"Like I said, based on nothing but the word of a leech."

"Yeah, none've us have seen this supposed horrifying leech," Johnson piped up. "Seems fishy."

"Of course it's fishy! That's the reason we're out here in this God-forsaken cold, asking anyone who'll talk to us for information. There should never be a powerful leech, here in London, without the Guard knowing. Now we're going to hunt it down and end it, and if you don't think that's Guard work, then you should run back to your mothers you pair of fucking cowards."

Kersey shook his head. "You are so insufferable sometimes. Just know that if we don't get results soon, we won't be the only people to question this new direction you're trying to lead the Guard in."

"Yeah, I didn't join that long ago and you were still all about exterminating all the leeches, no compromise," Johnson said, apparently bolstered by a more senior member's willingness to talk back to Geoffrey. "That's the Guard that I joined."

"You can talk to me about your grievances back at base, but don't act like a bunch of fools while we're out patrolling." This would be a long fight, and one Geoffrey had feared he would have to have at some point ever since he had created a no hunt list.

They traveled in a sullen silence. At least Kersey and Johnson were back to doing their jobs seriously, but Geoffrey was still perturbed by the fact he was caught off-guard by how bad it had already gotten. There weren't any skals to help alleviate the tension by providing an opportunity for them to work together doing typical Guard work.

Despite the stillness, after walking for a little while Geoffrey sensed something was wrong. He signaled for the other two to stop, and they glanced around, on high alert. A sudden breeze was all the warning he got before he heard a sickening squelch followed by a gasp of pain. He whipped around. There: Johnson, face white and contorted with pain. Stabbed through the heart. The rookie collapsed to the ground. Moving to get into a defensive position with Kersey, Geoffrey drew his sword.

He was too late. In a blink the ekon appeared, disarming Kersey before he could fire his shotgun and then proceeding to slam him to the ground, ripping out his throat with its teeth. With a cry of rage, Geoffrey charged forward, thrusting his sword at the ekon's heart as it was occupied with savaging its victim. The ekon shifted, avoiding a fatal wound as the sword just missed its heart.

The ekon began to turn around to find the source of the sword in its chest, causing Geoffrey to withdraw his sword to keep a hold of it. Light from the streetlamps made the red of its demonic eyes seem to glow. The blood dripping from its mouth added to its grotesqueness. Despite having been skewered, the ekon hardly seemed bothered, and Geoffrey could see the wound healing itself shut already.

"Geoffrey McCullum, the mortal I was in search of," the ekon said with a condescending grin.

"I'll end you, beast!" Geoffrey shouted back, bringing his sword around to attack the ekon's side. He froze mid-swing as he was filled with a dull pain, his body locking up: his blood flow had been stopped. His sword fell from his hand and clattered to the ground, leaving him completely defenseless.

The ekon stood up, catching Geoffrey as he began to fall towards the ground, knees buckling. "I have a need of you, Geoffrey," the ekon stated. It lifted Geoffrey up, lugging him over its shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Dizziness overcame the still paralyzed Geoffrey as the ekon took off.

Very faintly, to the point where he wasn't sure if he was just imagining it, Geoffrey could hear whispers in his ear. It was hard to make out what was being said, although at one point he thought he caught a word: sleep. Against his own volition, his eyes began to slide close, Geoffrey slipping into unconsciousness shortly after.

It had been almost a week.

Guilt weighed heavily on Edgar. He was failing Jonathan. He was the best-equipped to find him, had such a distinct advantage due to their bond and he still couldn't find him, leaving Jonathan to suffer.
Edgar didn't know how much longer he could keep on like this. Jonathan's abrupt absence was noticed by the hospital staff. After he had settled into a more regular schedule, his total lack of presence was abnormal. The excuse Edgar gave everyone was there had been a family emergency.

And then there was Edgar leaving every night for most of the night. The best lie he could come up with was that he was attempting to procure more funds for Pembroke. Edgar wasn't sure if his vampire mesmerization was affecting the others, but no one had called him out on such a weak lie yet.

Lurking in the shadows, Edgar was compulsively smoothing over his fangs with his tongue. He missed the days when they would retract and remain retracted. Just one more thing he had to work harder to hide. He kept his distance from everyone now that the hunger remained intolerable.

If only there were some rats nearby... Edgar was sure he was decimating London's population. Perhaps he could hunt for a skal. Their population wasn't faring much better, however. While it would be easier to find a skal by itself, it would still require him to waste time hunting one down.

Before he could convince himself one way or another, Edgar heard a commotion from far away: shouting, and it was getting closer. He strained to make out what was being said, only getting a few bits and pieces. Guards were shouting out to other guards about a "fucking bastard," "killed everyone else," "took him," "McCullum" along with profuse cursing, swearing, and vows of vengeance.

A dark thrill ran through Edgar upon piecing together what had happened. He sobered quickly, remembering their truce and the modest amount of civility McCullum still extended to him. He could practically hear Jonathan's voice in his head admonishing him for his lack of sympathy for the death of another.

Getting a proper hold of himself, Edgar cast his eyes around, looking for any sign of McCullum's heartbeat or his kidnapper. He had no luck, so he decided to head off in the direction the commotion seemed to be heading in.

Keeping his senses primed as he sprinted through the streets, Edgar noticed what he thought was a tell-tale puff of black smoke. He chased after it and saw another. Hope swelled up within him, slightly tempered by fear. Unfortunately, he saw no more bread crumbs. The only thing he could do was continue heading in the same direction.

As he ran, he felt as though his connection with Jonathan was growing stronger. Edgar turned down a road and came to a stop. There was a narrow street he had never noticed in all the times he had searched down this road. Drawing near to it, Edgar knew Jonathan was somewhere along it. Every time he had passed by it previously, his mind had wandered, his memories of it hazy. Now it was as though a beacon was calling him forward.

Edgar went from the mouth of the street to the door of the lone flat at the end of it. He grabbed a hold of the doorknob, prepared to force his way in when he felt a supernatural resistance. He cursed, slamming the palm of his hand on the door. He had finally found him and now his accursed condition was preventing him from rescuing him.

Even though he already knew that this was the right place, Edgar took a look inside using his vampiric senses. He zeroed in on Geoffrey, his heartbeat standing out in stark contrast. There was one other faint heartbeat off in some corner of the flat, but Edgar's heart sank as he realized there was no heartbeat from the dark figure that had to be Jonathan. He had never seen him that bad off before. Edgar tore himself away reluctantly, not wanting to put distance between him and Jonathan now that he was so close. But he needed help, human help.

He shadow jumped erratically, bumping into the walls a few times in his hurry as he went off in search of guards. Luckily he didn't have to go far. As he appeared a few meters in front of a small group of them, he found himself staring down the barrels of multiple guns while others drew blades.

He held his hands up before addressing the one he assumed was the captain. "I have found McCullum, and I will lead you to him. He's been taken to the same place as Dr. Reid."

"You're a leech. Why in the hell should I trust you?" the woman responded, stony-faced. Edgar did note that she was the only person without a weapon in hand.

"I am approaching you, a bunch of people who wish to see me dead, unarmed. And I am sure McCullum informed you of our common goal."

"He did, but he also got kidnapped by one of you leeches."

"Put a gun to my head if you must-" Edgar stopped mid-sentence just as Jonathan's intense hunger roared to life, causing him to open his mouth, fangs bared as he now had to resist the temptation to attack the guards. He successfully restrained himself, panting due to the immense strain, but his vision remained tinged red. "-just follow me," he ground out. "I only came to you because there's no other way. I'm prevented from entering."

The captain stared at him impassively for a few more seconds before motioning for the other guards to lower their weapons. "Well, be quick then. We've wasted enough time."

Edgar led the way, stumbling a few times as he fought to keep himself on track, to not turn on the people he had barely convinced to not kill him. "Must save Jonathan," he kept repeating in his head like a mantra, helping to keep him focused. During his short journey back to the house Jonathan was being held in, a sense of doom only grew stronger for him. Even as he was relieved to still be able to locate Jonathan as he approached the street he was down once again.

Edgar nearly collapsed to his knees, bracing himself against a wall as the hunger abruptly vanished and was replaced immediately by euphoria. Even second-hand it was the most intense feeling of euphoria he had ever felt. He lost all sense of his surroundings, except for blood beckoning to him right next to him. There were sounds, muffled to the point of being incomprehensible. Something cold and hard being pressed against his back granted him clarity, bringing him back into the world.

"-hell is wrong with you?" the captain was asking.

Swallowing, trying and failing to come up with an answer, Edgar pointed ahead, to the street. "He's down there. Just...leave me." Not only his arm, but his whole body was shaking. Losing his sense of balance, he turned himself so that his back was against the wall and slid down it, eyes sinking shut as he lost himself in the ecstasy.

"You-" the captain began, her tone implying she had come to a realization. She left Edgar alone and addressed the guards with her, "Hurry! Geoffrey needs our help! Show no mercy to any leeches who oppose us!"

With shouts of affirmation, the guards charged ahead, leaving Edgar behind. He retained enough awareness to register what the captain had said. The feeling of doom came back to him. Had he just led hunters who intended to kill Jonathan straight to him?

Dead. Surrounded by death. Another corpse among many. Suffocatingly piled together.

Unable to open an eye. Unable to move anything. Sensed nothing. Only felt pain. Always had been pain. Always will be pain.

Yearned for oblivion. Nothingness. An end. Anything for the pain to stop.

But why should there be an end? Eternity stretched out in either direction. No escape.

Falling forward, eyes opening in shock. Could only see red. Could only hear thudding.

Need. Able to move leaden limbs. Reaching for the one thing needed. The one thing desired. What would end the suffering.

No!

Arm wrenched back, too weak to break free. So close! Stretching, but not enough.

Then no longer held back. Falling down, crashing into the red warmth. Felt like fire and life. Holding tight, would not lose it.

Pulling upward to where it was best. Almost nothing in the way, the red so close to the surface. Mouth stretching open, leaning in closer.

Biting down, tearing through the barrier, the fiery liquid spilling into the eagerly awaiting mouth. The pain and hollowness disappeared, replaced by rapture and satiety.

Alive. Definitely alive. More alive than ever. It felt like he was floating from his body, it was all so much. As he gulped down the blood, he never wanted it to end, to somehow hold onto this feeling for forever. Pulling the warm body closer, fully into his embrace, filled with such yearning for it and what it was giving him.

A force shoved him away from his prize, but he held onto it. A sharp pain in his chest caused him to loosen his grip, stealing his breath. Even more force was put behind it. He was being run through by something sharp and being pushed off his victim.

The sharp, focused pain brought Jonathan back to himself, the horror of what he had done sinking in as he realized he had been feasting mindlessly on a human. Had so thoroughly enjoyed feasting on a human. He did not have the time to fully appreciate the horror of his actions, however.

Glancing down, Jonathan saw that a sword had been stabbed through his chest, a few inches to the right of his heart. A hulking brute of a man was shoving him back and back, rage in his eyes. Eyes flicking over to the person he was being separated from, Jonathan froze as he saw an unconscious and excessively pale Geoffrey McCullum being surrounded by concerned members of his Guard.

Oh God, had he killed him?

No. There was the heartbeat, faint breathing...

A gunshot shocked him back into awareness of the others, head jerking to the side just in time. He knew he should be concerned for himself with the situation he was in now: the Guard were obviously and understandably out for his blood. However, all of his concern remained focused on the unconscious McCullum. If he didn't act fast...

Jonathan needed to get McCullum out of there and to the hospital to perform a blood transfusion as soon as possible, but he also didn't wish to fight the Guard.

With some effort, Jonathan planted his feet on the ground, stopping the momentum of the man skewering him. Fresh pain as he dodged backwards, feeling the sword sliding out of him. He immediately jumped to the side again, not giving them time to try to aim a shot at him.

His wound was already mostly healed by the time he could focus on McCullum again. Two guards were kneeling by him, tending to him. Jonathan needed to grab him so that he could get him the blood he needed. Judging by their furious looks and defensive stances, the guards were not likely to trust Jonathan with taking McCullum to get treatment. An attempt at diplomacy would clearly be useless.
Jonathan dodged out of the way of another shot, jumping towards McCullum. One of the attendant guards sprang up, drawing a baton in each hand as he placed himself in front of his leader. The man was trying to hide his fear at facing down Jonathan. His arms were held up in front of him, ready to block an attack as he bounced from foot to foot. There was an almost imperceptible tremble throughout his body, but the most telltale thing was his heart pounding twice as fast as normal.

Jonathan strode determinedly towards the fearful man. Before a blow could land, Jonathan used his supernatural speed to dodge around the man faster than he could keep up with. Seeing an opening, Jonathan darted in and tripped the man. He landed hard, his head hitting the ground. Ideally he would be stunned for the few seconds Jonathan needed.

The remaining guard stared Jonathan down, face set with a grim determination. She stood up from her crouch next to McCullum, drawing a revolver. Jonathan tossed a blood spear towards her, and she jumped back out of the way just in time. She was only a foot away from McCullum, but she had moved enough for Jonathan. With the raise of an arm, the darkness pooled beneath her before solidifying and knocking her even further away from McCullum.

Jonathan covered the remaining distance in the blink of an eye, dropping to his knees beside McCullum so he could pick him up in his arms. Right as he straightened up again, he felt a burning pain in his right calf. He had been shot. He nearly stumbled and dropped McCullum, but managed to catch himself. Wasting no more time, he shadow jumped away.

It was a struggle to open the front door while holding McCullum, but he somehow managed. As it swung open, Jonathan froze. Standing right in front of him was Edgar.

Surprise briefly overtook all thoughts of bringing McCullum to the hospital. Edgar was here?

Edgar also appeared surprised for a few moments as he silently stared in shock at Jonathan. Then his eyes drifted down to McCullum, narrowing and focusing on him. Unbridled hunger was clear on his face. Reflexively, Jonathan tightened his grip on McCullum, pulling him closer to his body, ready to protect him from Edgar. Reminded of his task at hand, Jonathan stopped his lingering and shadow jumped past the still unmoving Edgar, making his way to the hospital with all haste.

In his arms, McCullum was faint and slowly fading. Jonathan still felt energized and refreshed from his blood, his wounds already perfectly healed. Guilt weighed on him heavily, clawed at his guts, but he could not sit and wallow in it.

The front entrance to the hospital was out of the question. Not only was he once again carrying an injured and anemic person, but having been kidnapped while he was sleeping, Jonathan's bare feet were currently slapping against the cold, damp cobblestones of the street. What remained of his shirt was torn in many spots and it was almost impossible to tell it had been white at some point with its myriad bloodstains. He may have been able to influence the people at the hospital to do as he asked without asking questions the last time he had desperately carried someone in, but he would certainly have to exert his will over people's minds if they saw him like this.

So, approaching Pembroke, Jonathan opted to go around back. He jumped up to the scaffolding that still was affixed to the wall of his room. He laid McCullum down on the bed, struggling for a moment to leave the defenseless man be instead of going for unopposed seconds. No one was around to stop him. True for now, but he had hardly hidden McCullum away. This would be the first place his men would come looking for him.

Before he could find someone to get what he needed, Jonathan had to make himself somewhat presentable. He could only get someone to overlook so much before he ran the risk of damaging their mind. He went over to the sink to scrub off the dried blood coating his arms and chest. He wiped furiously around his mouth, combing through his beard to get rid of any trace that remained of McCullum's blood. The complete removal of it removed the immediate temptation with it.

Next, he tossed his ruined clothes into a corner and changed into fresh, clean clothes. At least somewhat presentable now, Jonathan went to summon the first nurse he came across. Nurse Hawkins was found near the base of the stairs, not currently occupied by something. With a not-insignificant amount of guilt, Jonathan mesmerized her, instructing her to retrieve blood for him to use in a transfusion straight away, and to keep his presence upstairs a secret from anybody who came to visit the hospital. A visit from the Guard of Priwen, concerned for their leader and correctly deducing where his abductor had taken him, seemed rather likely.

Jonathan returned to his room to wait, setting up the equipment, focusing on the familiar task. He was all too aware of the unconscious form next to him, at once both tempted and repulsed by it. Now that it was a quiet moment, he couldn't help but dwell on the fact that McCullum was still alive due to chance. If the Guard hadn't turned up when they had, Jonathan would have had his blood on his hands. Another death because he couldn't control himself.

Finished with his task and still awaiting the blood, Jonathan stared at McCullum. What would he do when he woke up? Would they return to McCullum attempting to kill him? Would McCullum regress back to seeing all vampires as beasts to be put down, no exception? The one leech he had put his trust in had proven his prior beliefs true, after all.

A knock on his door brought Jonathan up out of his thoughts. The tantalizing scent of blood made his fangs ache, even after his recent feeding. Jonathan knew the struggle that was ahead of him. Something he was so versed in now a kind of torture, the blood nearly blinding him with his need for it.

His thirst would never be satisfied. He truly was a monster.

Jonathan had been standing there. He had been right in front of Edgar. Neither had said anything, and then Jonathan had shown just how little he trusted Edgar. He had shielded McCullum from Edgar before fleeing.

A week of searching, of being afflicted by Jonathan's ungodly thirst on top of his own. Edgar hadn't given up, had been the one to find Jonathan, to get the people to rescue him. To rescue McCullum even, though Jonathan was apparently convinced Edgar would have torn into him in the street.

It hurt. What would it take to get Jonathan to trust him again? To not see him as an immoral villain? Maybe he didn't require gratitude for his efforts, but disgust was too much.

And how hypocritical that Jonathan thought he had to protect McCullum from Edgar when he was the one who had actually drunk his blood. Had been well on his way to killing him.

Thou shall not drink another's blood. There had been extenuating circumstances, yes, but Jonathan had done it, nearly crossed the point of no return. And Edgar was the villain.

Shouting nearby caused Edgar to take stock of the situation. Left behind to deal with agitated guardsmen, though he had done no wrong.

He couldn't help but keep running through the same thoughts over and over again, wearing in a deeper tread with each pass. The hurt tearing in deeper and deeper, physically painful. Edgar had done everything in his power to help, and Jonathan still hated him.

Edgar saw the captain approaching, a hard look on her face. Whether she came to merely question him or if she was planning on taking out her frustrations on him, Edgar didn't bother to stay to find out. He fled into the shadows.

For once he wasn't sure if he wanted to return to Pembroke. Jonathan would be there, with McCullum. McCullum who he cared about more and had chosen over Edgar. The thirst that Jonathan had been amplifying this past week gnawed at him. The temporary relief he had felt through Jonathan hadn't been real at all and had vanished once Jonathan had been pulled off McCullum.

Hunting it was, for foul and unsatisfying rats. Maybe Edgar could pretend he wasn't stalling if it was for some purpose. Slaking his thirst in a Jonathan-approved way, for all the good that was doing him.

Chapter Text

The steady beating of McCullum's heart took the place of the tick of a clock, measuring out the time that was passing as he remained unconscious. It was calming. Or rather, Jonathan was trying to convince himself it was calming. McCullum was alive. He would be just fine. Jonathan hadn't killed him.

Jonathan forced himself to stop pacing, falling into the chair at his workbench. A fresh wave of emotion overwhelmed him, a mixture of guilt, anxiety, and fear. He buried his head in his hands, pressing his palms against his eyelids in a bid to relieve stress.

Since his return from America, working in the hospital he had grown more capable of being unaffected by working with living, bleeding patients. Just setting up the blood transfusion for McCullum had clouded his mind, made it impossible for him to sit still. He had even approached the sleeping man a few times before he realized what he was doing. Drawn into the vivid memory of drinking his blood, and each time he held himself back he felt the pain of when he had been starved and taunted with an unattainable source right in front of him.

He both dreaded and desperately awaited the moment McCullum would awaken.

Would the hospital still be considered neutral ground or would he and Edgar have to flee and start new lives, somewhere beyond the Guard of Priwen's reach?

Thinking of Edgar, Jonathan tried to catch a hold of his thoughts. His mind was too guarded, but Jonathan could sense that Edgar was still out on the streets somewhere, close to the West End. Jonathan had a lot he had to discuss with him. And with McCullum. And Elisabeth. And a few others as well. A doomed alliance with Priwen might have been a valiant start, but it had proven inadequate. Really, he did not relish the thought of approaching the man once more for help, but he had-

McCullum's heart rate sped up, breaking Jonathan out of his thoughts. Looking over, he saw the unconscious man beginning to stir, tossing and turning as his arms struck out at nothing, getting tangled in the sweat-stained sheets.

"No...stop..." he mumbled in his sleep. "No...get off..." Both the strength of his voice and the violence of his thrashing were growing.

Wanting to free him from the nightmare he was having, Jonathan walked over to him, reaching down to place a reassuring hand on his shoulder. McCullum's eyes snapped open, full of panic. He sprang upright, drawing a knife hidden up his sleeve as he did, and stabbed Jonathan through the palm of his hand before the doctor could react.

Jonathan didn't know what to say or do so he remained frozen in place, knife skewering his hand. McCullum's panting was the only thing that broke the silence. It took a few seconds before the influence of the nightmare seemed to recede and McCullum could properly take in his surroundings, his eyes losing their wild look. Fury took its place.

"Get the hell away from me," McCullum spat, sounding as angry as Jonathan had ever heard him.

Acquiescing, Jonathan immediately jumped back, giving him his space. Using his other hand, he removed the knife, holding it since he didn't know what to do with it now. Jonathan was slightly hunched as he waited for a verbal lashing from Geoffrey to go with his already physical violence.

When it seemed as though there would be no end to the silence, Jonathan tentatively spoke up, "Geoffrey, I-"

"The Guard will be after your head now, Reid," McCullum broke in, voice dead. He was looking down at the sheets, staring at the drops of blood on them. "The truce is ended." He grabbed a fistful of sheet, anger and frustration seeping back into his voice, "They agreed to not go after you as long as you kept up your end of the bargain." He looked up, glaring at Jonathan. "And now they saw you sucking every last drop of blood you could from me."

"I'm sorry, Geoffrey. I-"

Geoffrey slammed a fist into the bed. "Stop it with this misguided apology of yours. What are you sorry for? Your nature? If that's the case, then just let me end you." He let out an exasperated huff, turning his head to look away again. "I've seen starving vampires before. Hell, I've starved them myself a few times. Makes them show their beastly nature, or that's what I thought." A slight pause. "I shouted your name and you didn't even respond. You didn't decide to attack me. And there's nothing you can do to prevent something like that from happening again short of dying. So quit with your apologies. They're meaningless."

Geoffrey's tirade threw Jonathan off guard. Of all the possible ways he'd been expecting Geoffrey to react, this hadn't been one of them. The man was still hard to get a read on, so Jonathan ventured, "You will refuse an apology from me and return to hunting me once again, then?"

"Christ, I didn't think you were this dense, Reid," Geoffrey said, exasperated. "I said the Guard would be hunting you, not me personally. Ordering them to not attack you was already asking a lot of them, and now there's irrefutable proof of you attacking me. I won't have the Guard splitting under me. I do want to try to find some way to persuade them to not think of you as an enemy, but it'll take some time. And I warn you now, if you start killing my men again, I will hunt you down and end you."

"The last time we spoke," Jonathan began, pausing before he forged on ahead, "I said I would place myself in your hands if I ever slipped. And you promised that you would kill me. I thought..."

"Fuck, I already told you I'm not blaming you," Geoffrey said, pissed off. "So stop or I'll change my mind and decide to get rid of you on the basis of you annoying the hell outta me."

Now it was Jonathan's turn to shout. "You say it's not my fault, but you could have died! I could have killed you!" Kerr's words came back to him, filling him with anxiety that tumbled out of his mouth, "Their goal is to get me to feast on humans. Already..." The rest of the sentence died there as just thinking the words caused the thirst to overtake him. 

His fangs dropped down, clearly visible as he bared them. His eyes were that of a predator's as he eyed the glowing red veins in Geoffrey's neck, the hunter's heartbeat drowning out everything else. Geoffrey also froze in response to this, his heart beginning to pound faster, making him an even more enticing target.

Several slow seconds passed with Jonathan a mere breath away from springing on Geoffrey and finishing the job. An errant twitch of his clawed hands. Lips curling up, mouth opening in readiness.

With a snarl, Jonathan whipped around, striding over to his desk to slam his hands on it, hunching over, back bent, sharpened nails digging into the wood. He took several deep breaths, the first he'd taken since he had trailed off. Eventually he managed to obtain some semblance of calm.

"So you're just gonna give in then?" Geoffrey said, as though he hadn't just watched Jonathan's sudden outburst of violence. "Seems to me like you're fighting it."

Jonathan sighed heavily before turning to face him. "No, I will not give in to this. I won't let the beast win."

"As long as you keep fighting, I'll fight with you. And you're not the only one fighting. We've a common enemy, even if the Guard may no longer truly be your allies."

Geoffrey's words gave Jonathan the confidence to ask the favor he'd thought up while he'd been waiting. "Considering this latest turn of events and how dire the situation is, I was debating whether we should reach out to others who would share our common enemy. If I were to discreetly send a note to you with a time and place, would you attend a meeting? You would have to come unarmed and promise no violence."

Geoffrey let out a short, incredulous bark of laughter. "You trying to make me promise all that without giving me any details is quite the demand. Maybe I won't bring any weapons, but I won't give my word that there'll be no violence. Just what you've said already is enough to make me suspicious of who these others might be. You'll have your work cut out for you if you want no bloodshed."

Jonathan closed his eyes, took a deep breath as he mulled it over, and found the response acceptable. Opening his eyes again, he replied, "Fine. If all goes well, I hope to have this meeting within the next few days."

Geoffrey threw his legs over the side of the bed, going to stand up. He stumbled a bit but managed to catch himself, placing an arm on the bed to steady himself. "I've been here long enough. I've no idea if my men are planning to retrieve me from your clutches, so it's probably best if I go out and find them before they attempt such a thing."

"Normally I would recommend and insist that you stay here longer to ensure you actually recover, but it wouldn't do for this hospital to become a bloody battleground. You should be alright if you can manage to rest and regain your strength for at least a day."

Geoffrey dismissively waved his hand. "Whatever you say, doctor. I'll take a night off. Need to talk to the Guard anyways and do my best at keeping them in check." Giving a stern look he added, "Make sure you keep yourself in check too. I don't really look forward to my hatred being justified."

"Yes...of course. Now take care, Geoffrey."

Jonathan stared at the door Geoffrey left through for a few seconds before rousing himself. He wasn't sure if it would be safe for him to sleep there for the day in case some of the Guard took it upon themselves to eliminate the leech that attacked their leader. Jonathan lingered for only a few moments more, reflecting on the conversation he'd had with Geoffrey, before exiting out of his balcony. He was grateful that Geoffrey was not out for his blood, but was still uneasy at the notion of being left alone by him. He only hoped he could trust in the man's judgment to kill him if need be. He had no idea who else to turn to for this.

With such heavy thoughts on his mind, Jonathan entered one of his hideouts he knew hadn't been reoccupied yet. Dawn was not too far off, so thankfully he didn't have much time to fret before he slipped into a dreamless sleep.

"Jonathan!"

Jonathan had barely knocked twice on the door before it had been answered. There was a look of surprise on Elisabeth's face, but not as much as would be expected if she thought he were still in captivity. That, coupled with the fact she had clearly been anticipating his arrival at her home, seemed to point to her already knowing of his escape.

"Elisabeth. I had something I wished to speak with you about."

Elisabeth remained standing in the doorway, not yet inviting him in. She tilted her head to the side a bit, examining him. "Gone for days, people worrying and searching for you, and you don't think it necessary to speak of it. Edgar visited me last night and gave me the good news."

"Ahh," Jonathan ducked his head slightly, breaking eye contact briefly. "Yes, I suppose you would have also been searching for me. I would have visited you last night myself, but by the time Geoffrey was in a stable condition and had regained consciousness, it was nearly sunrise."

A small, gentle smile broke out on Elisabeth's face. "I didn't intend to sound accusatory. I just hope part of what you wished to speak with me about included filling me in on what happened." She took a step back, beckoning him inside. "Now please come in. The night's still young, so we have plenty of time to chat."

Jonathan stepped inside, following her to the living room. "Yes, the night is still young, but there were a few more things I still need to do tonight after this. But I'll make up for leaving you in the dark for so long. I do have the time for that."

As they settled down into chairs before the fireplace, Jonathan gave a very thorough and detailed account of what had happened. Elisabeth listened with rapt attention, looking increasingly concerned as he continued but refraining from interrupting him. Her hands gripped the arms of her chair tightly as he described what Kerr had done to him, only relaxing after hearing he had made it free without killing anyone. Even glossing over the details, Jonathan still felt immensely guilty as he told her about drinking Geoffrey’s blood.

“The important thing is that he’s still alive,” Elisabeth said when he had finished recounting everything that had happened. “You didn’t kill him. And I’m quite surprised that he decided not to kill you, but that is another thing to be thankful for.”

Jonathan looked down at his hands fidgeting in his lap. “It also took me by surprise. I’m not sure that I agree with his reasoning for why he can allow me to continue existing.”

“Jonathan,” Elisabeth said in a soft, slightly exasperated tone that got him to look up, “I agree with his assessment. Do you trust in my judgment? After all my years, I have seen all sorts of people, even a wide variety of ekon. You are one of the most admirable people I have ever had the good fortune to meet. I can’t say that I know what his thought process was, but it could have been pragmatic. This ekon that’s been attacking you is clearly formidable, and if there’s more… You have already proven yourself capable of protecting London once.”

Jonathan frowned. “But if their goal is to have me 'embrace my nature,' wouldn’t it be better if I were removed? It would thwart their goals. As you say, I was strong enough to protect London, but who would stop me if I were the one to threaten it?”

Elisabeth laid a hand on top of his clasped ones, stopping their nervous movement. “You are very human. And strong in more ways than one. You are also making an assumption that if you denied them their initial goal of corrupting you, then they would give up and return to wherever it is they come from. From what you’ve told me, it sounds like their main goal is revenge, and your death would still be playing into their hands. Without you here to fight them, they could do much more harm to this city if that was their intent.”

“I fear that so far I have not lived up to the title that’s been given to me. I think it’s time I admit this is not something that I can do on my own. I feel a pooling of knowledge and resources is needed, and it is something that I am working on organizing. I’m putting a lot of hope that ‘the enemy of my enemy is my friend’ will be a shared belief of the parties involved.”

“I, of course, will do whatever I can to help. I don’t know how much knowledge I can contribute, but I will try to ask around. Some time ago, I heard whispers of a group of vampires that was forming, violent and bold. I never was approached, but some of the more monstrous vampires disappeared around the same time.”

“If you are able to find out anything, it would certainly be helpful. I have two more stops to make tonight, so I must be going.”

As Jonathan stood, Elisabeth stood with him. There was an unsure look on her face that made him pause in the middle of his departure. “I wish to accompany you when you are wandering the city. I know that I am unable to be there for you always, but after this last time…”

“I would be glad of your company,” Jonathan replied. “But not tonight. These visits I am making would best be done alone. Particularly the second one.”

Elisabeth’s mouth was set in a hard line. She looked like she was ready to protest, but thought better of it. “I’ll look forward to our future nightly strolls, then. Just know that if something does happen to you tonight, I will never let you hear the end of it.”

The serious look and tone combined to make Jonathan break out into a grin. “Yes, well, that would certainly be some well-deserved teasing. Make sure you take care, too. They seem focused on me now, but there is a good chance they are aware of how close we are.”

“I will. Goodnight.”

Once he’d left, Jonathan tried to prepare himself. The most pleasant part of his night was now over, and it would be downhill from there. At least the next visit wasn’t the one he dreaded. That would be the final one.

He couldn’t move. He couldn’t look away from the scene of horror happening right in front of him. His father--the beast--bent over his mother. Obscene slurping and panting sounds filled his ears. Then suddenly a spurt of blood as his mother’s throat was torn out, followed by a thud as her body hit the ground. 

He’d only watched.

Now his father turned to face him, a dazed look on his face. Blood dripped from his mouth and chin. Sick with fear and revulsion, Geoffrey wanted to back away, but couldn’t. He was frozen in place. Small, helpless.

Then it wasn’t his father in front of him. It was Reid. His eyes were completely inhuman, filled only with bloodlust. His skin was bone white, covered only in bloody rags. Geoffrey opened his mouth, but couldn’t even make a sound. If only he could move. He needed to move!

Arms gripped him, holding him, crushing him. He couldn’t breathe. A terrible, piercing pain in his throat, extracting a cry from him finally. The panic overwhelmed him, unfreezing his body. He tried to flail, but it was already too late. It was impossible for him to break free.

With desperate, greedy gulps his blood was drained from him. Those same disgusting sounds flooded his ears, much closer. Everything was fading. He was going to die. Reid was going to kill him. He tried in vain to break free, but his struggles grew weaker and weaker. 

He was completely helpless.

With a shout, Geoffrey sat up in his bed, pulse racing. All he could do was pant as he slowly became aware of his surroundings. His spartan bedroom, all alone. It was the second time he’d thrashed himself awake due to a nightmare that day. He’d been plagued with them for the past few days, preventing him from getting a proper, restful sleep. At least it was almost the normal time for him to be getting up.

Geoffrey got out of bed with a heavy sigh and made his way to the bathroom. Once he got to washing his face, his eyes snagged on the ugly, bruised bite marks on his neck. Nausea welled up within him at the sight. To be so utterly helpless once again, and for that to dredge up that fucking memory…that bastard leech would pay dearly.

As he got ready to go out, he hoped that tonight would help bring him some answers about said leech. He armed himself sparingly although he would be traveling alone. He didn't have very far to go, and it had been quiet for the past couple of weeks. He wished his guards luck with their hunting tonight as he passed them by on his way out. He’d already told them he had other business that night.

The streets truly were clearer now, as the Finsbury Theater came into view before him without him encountering any leeches on the way. It still hadn’t been re-opened yet, requiring a lot of cleaning and repair work before it would be usable again. 

Geoffrey tried the front door of the theater and found it unlocked. He put a hand on his pistol as he cautiously opened the door, unable to completely trust in Reid’s note and not expect a trap. A quick look around confirmed the vestibule was empty of anyone living or undead. There was already a small pile of weapons sitting on a table off to the side. Geoffrey recognized the hacksaw sitting next to a stake and a revolver. After only a few seconds of hesitation, he set his pistol, sword, and crossbow down on the table with the other weapons.

Geoffrey could faintly hear the sound of voices coming from behind the doors to the main stage area. Upon opening the door, Geoffrey could tell that things were getting heated, voices were being raised.

“Please calm down, we all agreed to a temporary truce. Allow us all to have a discussion first, at the very least,” the voice of Usher Talltree was clearly attempting to diffuse the situation.

“Are you so sure he also agrees to a truce? That brute that finally decided to show up here?”

Geoffrey nearly froze at the sound of the voice, but instead sped up his gait, frowning. A table came into view, and he saw the source of the second voice, someone he hadn’t expected to be here.

“This is ridiculous,” Lord Redgrave said contemptuously. Geoffrey hated to agree with him, but that statement matched his own sentiments perfectly.

That bastard Reid had mentioned nothing about this in his note, and never would Geoffrey have guessed what Reid had planned. Redgrave wasn’t the only surprise. Edgar Swansea, the slimy git, was also sitting at the table along with a red-headed leech he assumed was Ashbury based on the bit of digging up he had done in relation to Reid. Usher Talltree and Reid rounded out the rest of their numbers. Geoffrey had to fight an urge to turn around and retrieve his weapons as he realized he was the only human in the room.

“Ah, McCullum,” Edgar tittered nervously as a greeting. He flinched at the glare Geoffrey sent him, which at least made the hunter feel slightly better.

The only remaining empty seat was between Reid and Talltree, and it also was the one furthest from Redgrave. Geoffrey made his way over to it, feeling everyone’s eyes on him.

“I'm sorry I didn't grace you with my presence sooner, but feel free to begin now, whatever this is about," Geoffrey said as he sat down. 

The sour look on Redgrave's face worsened. Edgar was fidgeting slightly, repeatedly adjusting his expensive wristwatch. Ashbury gave him a small, polite nod of acknowledgement. Usher didn't react at all, staring stonily at him. Jonathan seemed tense, perhaps in anticipation of things going horribly. Sitting right next to him, Geoffrey was also able to notice how surprisingly pale he was. It hadn't been that long since Jonathan had drank a decent amount of his blood, but now he looked almost as pale as he had when Geoffrey had found him starved. He also kept rubbing his wrist's pulse point with his thumb whenever he stared down the unimpressed Redgrave.

"Since everyone is here now, it would probably be best if we get right to the topic at hand," Jonathan said, breaking the silence. "Over the past few weeks, I have had multiple encounters with a hostile and powerful ekon who seems intent on breaking me. His name is Lawrence Kerr, and based on his ramblings, I believe he is a member of the Druid Order."

Redgrave's eyes narrowed. "I'm surprised such an ignorant newborn like you has heard of such an obscure order. And thinks they know enough to identify one of their members."

"Jonathan's filled me in on some of the details, and I believe his guess to be correct," Usher said. "Admittedly none of us are wellsprings of knowledge when it comes to them, or at least that's my understanding of our current state." He paused, looking pointedly at Geoffrey.

Geoffrey opened his mouth to speak only for Redgrave to cut in again, "Those ill-bred curs know next to nothing. For all their talk of eliminating the vampire threat, they sure were quick to return with their tails tucked between their legs all those years ago. And they've been content to leave those heretics to their unfettered hedonistic tendencies since. It's no wonder, though, after half of their number were impaled on spikes during one of the Order’s blood orgies."

Geoffrey clenched his fists and gritted his teeth at the cavalier way Redgrave was speaking of such a bloody and tragic moment of the Guard's past, even if it was before Geoffrey’s own time. "Says the head of some club who proclaims to be protecting the interests of the Empire. You can't protect shit. London would have fallen by now if the good doctor here hadn't stepped in, a total newborn."

Ashbury cleared her throat before Redgrave could retort. "Gentlemen, I really think we should try to stay on track. We are trying to pool our knowledge to the benefit of us all, even if some of us have less to offer. I myself know hardly a thing. Years and years ago, I heard whisperings of a new vampiric group forming, and some of the worst disappeared, never to be heard from again. I succeeded at avoiding them, however, so that is all I know."

"And all I know is what little I read in a note I came across written by Lord Redgrave describing them as the enemy," Jonathan said.

Redgrave muttered something at the comment that Geoffrey couldn’t make out.

"Unfortunately there is not much knowledge among us either," Usher said. "They are exceptionally secretive and quite capable of repelling those who would try to find out about them."

"They wouldn't have become such a problem if the Guard had been around when their group first started forming. Your leech sympathizing ways allowed such a group to form, right in your backyard. It's a wonder and a shame it was still decades before we broke off from you."

"Even if the Guard had existed, it would not have been a matter of simply storming their castle and slaughtering the lot of them, " Usher said. "Based on written accounts of the time, it seems one of their number was especially gifted at mesmerization, or something similar. A more nuanced form of it. Not to mention they've always had a number of old, powerful vampires among their number. Who knows what the extent of their abilities could be at this point, living so long and drinking so freely?”

“So even the people supposed to be studying these leeches know next to nothing. What use are you?” Geoffrey asked, looking at Usher. “And you,” Geoffrey turned his attention to Redgrave, “for all your disparaging of the Guard, what have you done to oppose them? How can you claim to be protectors?”

Both Redgrave and Usher started responding to him, things beginning to get heated.

“Please, we didn’t come here to point fingers at each other,” Ashbury cut in. “Let’s try to remember why we’re here.”

Redgrave glared at Ashbury, a sour look on his face. “And who do you-”

A loud scraping noise interrupted him as Reid’s chair was pushed back, the man standing in a rush. Geoffrey’s eyes locked on him, his looming height and storming eyes. Despite his pacifistic bent evidenced by his clear eyes, Reid looked dangerous, full of wrath.

"Enough," Reid spat out, glaring at the three offenders in turn. Some instinctual fear crept its way up Geoffrey's spine during the brief few seconds their eyes were locked. "Cease your petty squabbling, it’s getting us nowhere. A threat has made itself known in this city. I hope we can set our differences aside enough to face it instead of fighting amongst ourselves.”

“I doubt they’ll be able to evade my spies’ eyes for much longer. I’ll be sure to inform you all of what they find,” Redgrave said. He got up to leave without waiting for anyone else to say their piece first.

“The Guard will do as it always does,” Geoffrey said. “We will protect this city from any leeches, old or new. Don’t be expecting us to collaborate more beyond this.”

“And of course the Brotherhood will provide whatever knowledge we can glean,” Usher said.

Reid closed his eyes and let out a big breath, the tension leaving his stance until he looked normal again. The meeting seemed to be at an end now. Everyone stood up, preparing to leave. Swansea left after a quick goodbye to Reid. Ashbury then went to wait out in the lobby area, Reid going to follow after her before Usher pulled him aside. Geoffrey walked past them, out into the foyer, listening in on them in curiosity. Luckily it didn’t seem they cared if he heard.

As he collected his weapons up, putting them in their rightful places, he took his time.

“Remember what I told you. Are you sure it was wise to invite him here?” Usher was asking. Geoffrey wondered if he was the one being referred to and was caught off guard by how serious and acidic the tone was, coupled with the fact that he could clearly hear it.

Reid gave out a sigh, like he was tired of the question. “Yes, I do remember. I trust him in this. He hasn’t given me a reason to doubt since I gave him his second chance.”

There was a brief pause before Usher said, “Well, he is your responsibility.” Geoffrey tensed up at that. Surely they couldn’t be talking about him? “I just hope you don’t end up regretting this. He’s already caused enough damage with his poor choices.”

“I am well aware,” Reid said, voice steely. “Edgar knows what I expect of him with this second chance.”

Geoffrey shook his head. Of course Reid thought Swansea wasn’t going to cause anymore trouble. He felt Ashbury’s eyes on him as she presumably waited for Reid. She had a thoughtful expression on her face, but she remained silent. Geoffrey finished strapping his crossbow onto his arm, his last piece of equipment, before heading out the doors of the theater. It was time to find a patrol to join up with for the rest of the night.

The smell of blood assaulted Edgar’s nose as he approached the hospital, down by the river, the spot where he had first brought Jonathan on his boat. He couldn’t just ignore it: someone was injured. He walked over to where he could get a look at the source of the smell and was unsurprised to see none other than Clay Cox with a nasty sneer on his face, tossing a wallet up and down, blood smeared on his knuckles. Some poor unfortunate man with a bloody nose was turning and running away, tears and terror in his eyes. Edgar’s eyes narrowed at the scene.

He didn’t know why Clay had to still haunt the streets near Pembroke. He was scum who only brought violence to the area. Having basically caught him in the act, Edgar found himself striding towards him before he could reconsider. A quick look of surprise flashed across Clay’s face as he noticed Edgar heading towards him, but it was quickly replaced with a smirk as he pocketed the wallet.

“I should call the cops on you. Assault and robbery?” Edgar said, a threatening edge to his tone.

“Go right ahead,” Clay said, still smirking like he was untouchable. “I’ll just direct them towards your shady as shit hospital right over there. Let them poke around, dig up some of that dirt you must have piles of there.”

Edgar clenched his fists, face scrunching up into a snarl. “The very same hospital that saved your life not that long ago. I don’t know why I’m wasting my breath on you. If I catch you doing something like this again, I will alert the cops.”

With a huff, Edgar stormed off to the hospital, before he had to suffer hearing another retort, idly fantasizing about ripping Clay’s throat out himself.