Mistake of a Lifetime

"Kimber?" She didn't see him and her heart stopped.

"Alive. Are we clear?"

His voice sounded strong, but she still couldn't see him and she studied the room curiously. "We're clear."

He appeared suddenly from behind a now ragged, shot-up highback chair and she almost sagged in relief. She watched him step towards her and almost instantly her eyes went to the hole mid-chest.

"Kimber!"

"I'm fine, they got the vest. Which, yeah, gonna have to thank you for that. This is nicer than most of the civilian grade stuff. I'm not sure I would have survived if I'd worn mine." He reloaded as he walked, dropping the old magazines in a cargo pocket at his knee and his casual demeanor was confusing.

"I said don't be a hero."

He looked at her curiously. "I wasn't. Dude got lucky. I also could have started shooting and ducking earlier, but hindsight, I guess."

Rachel was still struggling with concern, fear and anger and she stared at him hard in confusion. "Yeah, hindsight, and you were being a fucking hero."

Someone stirred behind them and Kimber whirled, shooting the man again and he slumped back to the floor. Kimber's blue eyes were glowing brightly, feverishly, and he looked more confident and secure than she'd ever seen him. Whatever grief still ached inside him was buried under the thrill of the hunt and she was stunned.

"Whatever you say. We don't have much time in here though, so if we're going to move we'd better start."

He was right, but Rachel wasn't yet ready to continue. Instead she reached up and snatched his head next to hers before kissing him hard and rough. Then she released him and spun on her heel, heading for the hallway. "Let's go."

Kimber stared after her for only a moment before leaping over a corpse and following quickly. "Yes ma'am."

They made it only a few steps before the rest of the cavalry arrived, and the narrow space was swiftly filled with smoke and blood. She was impressed that the majority of shots Kimber took were head shots, and he hit nearly every one. Somehow, Mauricio had managed to find only the dumbest of guards, and they had neatly filed into the hallway like lemmings. It was easy enough to down them all, then Rachel stepped on the bodies as she crossed into the stairwell.

"God damn woman, are you serious?"

Rachel froze mid-stride. "What?" She immediately looked up for enemies and was confused when she saw nothing.

"That was a person at one point and you just stepped on him."

She moved to the other side and turned to look at Kimber. "He was, yes, and now he's a corpse. He doesn't mind, I promise."

"Really?" Kimber's voice was incredulous and Rachel growled.

"Now is not the time!" She snapped and he quieted, but not before giving her an aggrieved sigh. He holstered his guns and carefully but forcefully launched himself over the pile and into the stairwell, and they proceeded upstairs.

The stairs opened up onto a floor with rooms on either side of a long hallway and ended in a pair of grand double doors at the far end. Rachel stopped him and Kimber looked her curiously. She nodded towards the wall, and he ducked behind her as she reached out with her senses.

The rooms were empty, but the room at the far end of the hall was full of people. She listened intently, picking out several different heartbeats, including Mauricio's labored one. She moved back into the shadows of the stairwell and dipped close to Kimber's ear.

"They're all in his office at the end. 10 guys with him." Her words were nearly silent, and her breath curled around his ear. She was amused when he shivered and his breath quickened, and she smelled pheromones.

"Uh, yeah, okay. Got a plan?"

She couldn't resist a grin. "Well," she drawled, putting an edge to her voice and purring ever so slightly. "I could pop over there with my tits out again."

His eyes darkened slightly and she knew he was distracted and fumbling for a response. She took pity on him and patted his shoulder. "Don't worry about it Kimber. It happens."

He stiffened. "What happens?"

Rachel turned her attention back to the doorway. "Being overcome by lust around a vampire."

Kimber wanted to protest. He wanted to be outraged, disgusted, his delicate sensibilities violated, but she knew better and he knew it. Instead, he drew himself and forced his mind back on the task. "So about that plan?"

She flashed him a smile. "Get down."

She didn't even wait for him to react, simply drew her pistol and unleashed a flurry of shots at the door. She dropped to the floor when the inhabitants returned fire and plaster and wood chunks went flying. She swiftly reloaded, meeting Kimber's eyes with a jubilant look.

"Ungh, ugh, oof." She flung the empty magazine onto the floor, simulating the dying gasps of an attacker, and suddenly the wide double doors swung open.

"Where is he?" Several guys poured out and beyond them, Rachel could see a couple bodies on the floor. She hadn't expected them to be standing at the doors when she shot through them, and she was irritated at the waste of life.

Kimber flipped around the corner and swiftly downed the handful of guys in front of them. Several more came out, guns blazing, and Rachel eliminated them as Kimber reloaded. She admired his efficiency, how he didn't waste bullets needlessly and counted shots and bodies. It made her chest swell with admittedly misplaced pride, and she was excited to imagine him working for someone who could appreciate his talents.

"Mauricio! You rat bastard, step your ass out here." Rachel could sound scary when she wanted to, and her voice echoed through the room with fury. His only answer was a spray of bullets that abruptly cut off, followed by soft curses, and Rachel bolted for the room.

Kimber was right behind her, and she reflexively ducked the massive arm that swung at her, falling to her hip and sliding through the doorway. Unfortunately, it meant Kimber took it straight in the chest and he hit the ground with a grunt. Rachel couldn't spare him much more than a thought, because Mauricio was fumbling with a MP5.

"German...piece of shit!" He flung it to the ground and fumbled at his waist for a gun, and Rachel launched herself at him. Her tiny hands were curled into talons and she slashed across his chest. He stumbled and she followed, shoving him to the ground and catching his wrists. With two swift twists, his arms were broken and useless, and he screamed in agony. Rachel ignored the wails and proceeded to pat him down, pulling out every pocketed and holstered and hidden weapon he had managed to stuff in his poorly fitting suit. Jesus, for a Mafioso, he dresses like a slob.

She didn't have much time to spend on him, and as he continued to vocalize his pain she punched him in the back of the head. It wasn't enough to kill him, just enough to knock him out. The noise was annoying and she spun to check on Kimber. Her eyes grew wide as she saw the monster holding him in the air and reflexively, she bolted for the heaving mass.

Kimber didn't see the arm coming. He should have, because he knew it was Jim, Mauricio's favorite body guard and one of the biggest guys Kimber had ever seen. Nearly seven feet tall, with shoulders wider than most doorways and hands that would crush basketballs, Jim never had to do much to keep people in line. He was incredibly scary looking so most people wouldn't test him. Those that did, didn't live to tell stories about it and Kimber knew the dangers of going hand to hand with him.

Jim reached down, took two solid handfuls of shirt and vest, and threw Kimber across the room. Kimber knew it was coming and he tried to brace himself and relax into the landing. He managed it, but Jim was bearing down on him and he had no time to guard his face. A meaty fist, almost more bone than flesh, swung, and Kimber avoided most of it. Not that it mattered, because even a small amount of the swing was enough to split his other cheek open. Suddenly he was lifted up in the air, one large hand around his throat, squeezing the life out of him. Kimber found his feet dangling and he would have been impressed, had he not been terrified.

He saw a glimpse of a pale and black spectre before Rachel's savage face appeared over Jim's shoulder. She had knives in her hands and they were buried in his shoulder blades, and he dropped Kimber unceremoniously as he roared in pained fury. Kimber fought to drag fresh, blessed air into his mangled throat, his fear turning outward. He watched in horror as Jim twisted and spun, slamming the small figure on his back against the wall and furniture. Amazingly, Rachel held on, twisting the knives and slashing at his spine, and soon Jim fell to his knees. She wasn't done with him yet, and slid off his back just long enough to deliver a devastating blow to his head. He toppled, and Rachel reached down and snapped his neck violently for good measure.

"Kimber!" The primal, frightening look in her face was gone and she leapt for his side. Kimber waved her away slowly, still rubbing his throat.

"I'm fine." His voice was raspy and she frowned, then scrambled to help as he struggled to his feet. Kimber knew he was fine, even if it hurt a whole hell of a lot, but he needed revenge. He turned to Mauricio, who was just coming around, and picked the larger man up and threw him against the wall.

"Why'd you do it, Rico?"

Kimber kicked him square in the chest and the mafia boss coughed before weakly attempting to laugh.

"Your sister, she had a tight snatch."

Kimber punched him hard in the jaw and bloody spittle flew. In the back of his mind, he knew his fist was going to hurt later. "I already know you're a piece of shit, you sloppy bastard. All I want to know is whether you intentionally killed her today, or if it was an accident."

More of that gurgling, labored chuckle. "I bet you want to know. You're a nobody, Kimbie. You don't get to know. You'll never know."

The fury had taken over Kimber, and he smiled wolfishly. "I'll find out, even if I have to beat it out of you." He stood over Mauricio and lifted him by his shirt, before punching him back to the floor. "And if you don't tell me, I'll fucking enjoy pounding your face in. Your last moments won't be pleasant."

Rachel heard the Borgias pull up outside and took a step back from the gruesome scene. She wanted to warn Kimber that they were running out of time, but he was in a place where she couldn't reach. The only way he'd come out of that dark, awful, miserable place was through his own efforts, and apparently those efforts were going to include beating a man to death. She noted how unaffected she was by that realization, then turned to greet the family downstairs.

Kimber didn't know Rachel had left. He'd forgotten all about her by this point. His world had narrowed to himself and Mauricio, and the bloody gore he was punching from the man's head. His hands ached and his arms shook from exhaustion, but the pattern continued.

"Tell me what happened."

"Fuck you!"

Punch. Each blow felt better than the last. Each crunch, each squish, every movement satisfied something deep inside. Punch. Splatter. Punch.

Finally, the last blow landed, and Kimber felt complete. He was done, and he looked down at the mess before standing up and heading for the door. He'd just eliminated years of repressed rage and fear. His heart still ached for his sister, but her death didn't seem pointless anymore. He finally felt free.

"Raquel, you know this is very unusual."

Augustino's eternally youthful face nagged at her as he spoke in Italian, and she shrugged. "I'm aware. I'm not saying you have to let him work for you, I'm just saying, make him a good offer. He's amazing, and everything we need."

In unison all vampires present turned as they heard footsteps upstairs. There was a rustle of clothing before they disappeared, and Rachel was left alone to greet Kimber.

"Hey." His bloody face was happier than she expected, and she turned at the sound of his voice.

"Hey. Get it all worked out?"

Kimber smiled. "Yeah, I think I'm good."

Rachel nodded then flinched at the tiny puff of air from a blowgun. A sharp needle pegged Kimber in the neck and he yanked it away in confusion. "Rachel?" He looked at her with a bewildered expression then slowly crumpled to the floor as the sedative took effect. She wanted to cry, to scream, to rush to his side and tend his wounds, but she was cemented to where she stood.

"We'll take it from here, Rachel. Anything you want us to leave with him?"

The agent's careless, brusque tone lashed across her and she jerked before turning to him. "Yes. His bags are in my car. I'll go get them." Auggie's team was swarming around her, cleaning up and rushing upstairs, but she felt more alone than ever.

Her legs were lead, she decided during the short walk back to her car. She paused at the passenger door, resting her hand against the cool metal, considering her next steps. This is ridiculous, you can't make a relationship built on murder, attempted or otherwise. What are you going to say to him? "Kimber, please stay with me?" Why? Yeah, he's cool with the whole vampire thing, but what else is there? You had sex twice. Really amazing sex, to be sure. But what else?

"There wasn't time for anything else. But there could be." She said aloud, to no one, before realizing how foolish it was. She ripped his bags from the car and headed back to the house, handing them to the agent. "Make sure he gets these, and call me when you get to the hotel." She glared at the agent, who paled slightly. "Understand?"

"Y-yes ma'am."

Rachel spun on her heel and stormed out, not trusting her emotions to remain in check. She bolted for the car, locking herself in it and bracing for the emotional explosion. Nothing came and the silence was oppressive. It hurt too much to cry, to rage, to vent. Man a cigarette would be great. She reached for the center console before remembering her cigs were in the SMG, and with a muttered oath she punched the steering wheel.

She headed home, making a stop for more Camels on the way, and gathered a few select items once there. She changed clothes, not wanting to smell of gunpowder and blood, and showered too, needing to rinse herself clean. Idly she realized she'd have to redo the shower, because all she could see was Kimber on the floor, against the wall, behind the glass.

She was sitting at her desk in the now-gloomy house, staring at sheets of fine writing paper, unsure what to say. She wanted desperately to speak of happiness and love and passion, but the idea was so foreign to her it hurt. She couldn't make promises for things she didn't control. Her cell phone buzzed and she started before snatching it up and reading the text. Go time. She tucked the paper and pen into the tidily packed briefcase, then headed back out.

It was only a Hampton Inn, but somehow Rachel was sure it was a nicer hotel than many he'd stayed in. The agent had opened the door for her, and brought her up to speed.

"He's pretty strong for a human. We had to re-dose him twice."

Rachel studied Kimber's bandaged, bruised form. "I can imagine. I'll take it from here." She ushered the agent out, avoiding his curious looks, then turned back to Kimber. He was laying on top of the bedspread, completely dressed, his swollen face relaxed with sleep. She had an urge, numerous urges, especially ones to smooth back his hair, to undress him and wipe him down and tuck him under the blankets. Her fingers itched as they remembered plunging into the golden depths of his glorious mane, and she sighed before heading to the small desk and sitting down. Finally, the words had come to her.

Kimber snatched awake in unfamiliar surroundings, his heart racing as he looked around. It was a hotel room, Hampton Inn if the bedside book was to be believed, and he heard and saw no one. Slowly he sat up, biting back groans, and the previous night's events came back to him. He'd punched Mauricio to death, then went downstairs and Rachel had asked him if it was done. He remembered smiling, then a sad look had struck her face, and then his mind went blank.

"Probably some vampire shit." He shook his head, his voice sounding even worse than it felt, and carefully crept off of the bed. His entire body hurt and he stumbled slightly as he headed for the toilet. His eyes landed on a few prescription bottles sitting beside the sink, and as he sat to pee he opened them up. A couple oxycontin and a handful of 800 mg ibuprofen. That'll work, I guess. He tossed back an oxy, managing to swallow it dry.

Moving hurt, he decided, as he trudged back to the bed. He wanted to lay back down and suffer in silence, but a briefcase with a folded letter sitting on the desk caught his eye. Carefully, painfully, he sat down at the desk and picked up the note.

Kimber,

I'm sure it's very strange to wake up in a hotel room when you don't remember getting there, and I'm sorry. That's kind of how we do things. "Called it," he said to no one, before continuing to read. The room is paid up for as long as you need it. Your bags are in the closet, everything is accounted for. I made sure of that. We left some meds and because of the narcotics, we put the prescription in your name. There's a refill on both, as well as antibiotics. Just call the pharmacy, they'll handle it.

Katie is at our local funeral home. Their card is on the desk. Give them a call once you've decided how you'd like to handle it. To help with expenses, the briefcase is full of cash. You can go to my bank and open an account if you don't want to carry around the cash. Their card is inside the case. There's enough here that you never have to work again and can live comfortably. However, if you choose to continue working, give Augustino a call and he'll have a fair but profitable contract available for you. His card is also inside the case. There's a number on the back that you can call, any time, ever, and get help with essentially anything.

Finally, there are also keys inside the briefcase. The car is in your name, and it's yours, free and clear.

Take care.

Rachel

Her handwriting was beautiful, careful and precise with the tiniest bit of flourish. Kimber sat back, stunned and confused. He flipped open the briefcase and, true to her word, it was packed with neat stacks of hundred dollar bills. An envelope sat on top, and when he glanced inside he saw the business cards she had mentioned. The keys sparkled from beside the cash and he noted them, but didn't touch them. He was dumbfounded, a little heartsore, and completely baffled. It was an incredible deed she'd done, and to him, it seemed loving. But if that was the case, where was she?

He decided he hurt too much to ponder it all, and he stripped down before climbing into bed. Whatever needed to be done could wait another day. For now, he needed to rest.

Rachel found herself filled with a nervous, driving energy. She gave her staff a week off and proceeded to clean her large, empty mansion from top to bottom. Her cars sparkled from the thorough washing and waxing they endured, and their interiors gleamed. The entire time she cleaned, she would drop anything at the slightest exterior noise and rush to a window and look out. And every time she did so, she raged at herself for looking. He's not coming, Rachel. He's grieving, he's working, or he disappeared with the money. Either way, he's not going to show up just to be your companion. It didn't stop her though. Instead, she continued feeling the ache in her heart grow with every desperate scramble.