Vampires and Lovers Ch. 06

Pushing his worry aside, the Dryad let Seamus' love wash over him. If Seamus said it would be well, then he was sure he should accept it. However, a small niggle of concern remained at the periphery of his mind.

"Let's go back, Petal," Seamus crooned as darkness began to fall. He had made up his mind to speak to Vincent the next morning. Little had been seen of either he or Wyl since Vincent had all but manhandled Wyl from the room the previous day. He wondered if perhaps they had let things go on too long. He was still sure that there was nothing to actually concern them greatly over Vincent's erratic behaviour. However, it was time his brother-of-the-heart spoke and purged himself of whatever was still troubling him.

"Are you coming to bed?" Delfin asked as they returned to the suite. He hoped Gabriel and David were still in their living room and thought to join them unless his lover was ready to sleep.

"Not yet," Seamus smiled. "Go and see who is still up and about. I need to contact Liam briefly and then I will be along."

Delfin nodded, watching as the golden Vampire disappeared into their room. He turned to pass Vincent and Wyl's room on the way to the lounge.

****

Vincent tossed restlessly. He had gone to bed early, intending to speak to his family the next morning. He and Wyl had spent most of the day in bed, the older Vampire almost unable to let his Chosen move from his arms. He knew things had gone on far too long. He was not sure exactly what he was going to tell them. 'I have waking dreams about a non-existent demon.' He thought morosely.

"Hardly imagination, Vincent," the seductive voice came from the side of the bed furthest from the door. Vincent's head twisted to see the demon beside him. This time it was fully erect, its tails rubbing suggestively over the engorged organ that pointed at him, seemingly pinning him in place. "I know how much you want me. You want this."

Vincent felt frozen as the demon straddled him. He could not understand how the creature could avoid being detected by his brethren. It was impossible if it was real and not some twisted imagining on his part, yet it felt real. He gave a muted sound of distress as a hot hand pulled open his shirt to tease a nipple to hardness, touching in a way that sent heated ripples to his swelling groin. It was not possible. It was not possible. The demon's touches seemed to know exactly where and how to excite him most. Cool air on hot flesh had him twist and groan a denial.

His shirt had been parted enough to expose the peaked nipple and his erection was upstanding proclaiming his betrayal of his Chosen. He could not, would not permit it. Wyl was everything to him and he would not betray him even with some kind of perverted waking nightmare. Summoning his strength he bucked and twisted, throwing the demon off. He lay panting as if he had fought an army.

Delfin heard the sounds from Wyl and Vincent's bedroom; sounds that seemed distressed. He tapped and hesitated before opening the door. He could only see Vincent who was on the bed, turned away from the door.

"Vincent, are you well?" he asked as he moved into the room. Getting no response he came to stand at the far side of the bed. "Vincent?" Hesitatingly his hand came out to touch the Vampire's shoulder. He gave a shrill cry as Vincent rolled to his back and clamped a strong hand about his wrist.

"Vincent?"

Another voice had both men looking towards the doorway. David and Wyl stood, their faces shocked and Vincent gave a soul-deep groan of pain and denial as Wyl fled and David followed after.

Delfin whimpered softly, understanding why his friend had run as he looked down with wide eyes at the blond Vampire that still held him. Vincent's shirt was opened, revealing the dusting of golden fur. But, worse yet, was the half-hard organ over which it seemed his hand was hovering. He began to shake, keening with a mix of fear and shock. Vincent's grip vanished as did the Vampire himself, a cry of anguish in his wake as he fled through the bedroom window. Not knowing what else to do or who else to turn to, Delfin ran to Seamus.

****

Shakily, Seamus edged into their lounge. His Chosen stood so closely behind him it was as if they were one entity. He glanced at Gabriel who shook his head.

"Vincent has gone and not yet returned." The Lycan turned to look at where David cradled Wyl on his lap. The dark and blond heads bowed together.

"Delfin..." Seamus started, but did not know how to continue. His lover had brokenly told him of what had happened, of how it must have appeared to Wyl. His Chosen was terrified, fearing Seamus' anger and rejection as well as that of those he had come to love and trust as his family.

"Wyl does not believe Delfin and Vincent..." Gabriel started, his face betraying his disgust at even attempting to suggest more. "It was just the final catalyst that drove him to seek our help. He has been troubled about Vincent and his mate's behaviour since his rescue, but believed the fault lay with himself."

"Why would," Seamus began, then stopped himself. "He blamed himself for his step-father's actions; of course he would blame himself in this situation. I should have acted sooner."

"You are not to blame either," Gabriel growled. "David was concerned for the little one, but I assured him Vincent just needed time."

"Delfin was also concerned," Seamus said with a wry smile. "Perhaps we should listen more to our mates."

"Delfin?"

Wyl's voice caused the two bigger males to look over to where the slender brunette now sat up. Tears were clear on the young man's visage, but there was also a look of relief at having unburdened himself of his fears. He gave a shaky smile as Delfin tentatively peeked from behind Seamus' solid frame. A soft cry escaped the Dryad's lips before he flung himself towards the arm that opened in invitation. Gabriel and Seamus smiled softly as somehow the three slender males managed to fit onto the one chair.

"Seamus," Gabriel took hold of the Vampire's arm and tugged him outside the room. "We do not know what Marcus did to make it seem as though Vincent died. Nor do we know what effect that has had on him. He is not himself, that much Wyl volunteered easily. However, even he cannot vocalise just what is wrong. I have a friend who is a mage and a demon-master. I want to go and speak to him. Perhaps he may have some insight into how we can help Vincent."

"Go," Seamus encouraged. "I will try and find Vincent and bring him home."

****

Vincent stood on the top of one of the highest buildings in the city. He stared outwards with unseeing eyes. Instinct told him Seamus was behind him and he slowly turned to face the other Vampire.

"The others?" he asked.

"They have gone to a friend of Gabriel's," Seamus explained. "Now I have found you, we can join them."

"Wyl?" Vincent whispered shakily.

"Waiting for you," Seamus replied. "He is still your Chosen, Vincent."

"I have treated him so badly," Vincent ground out, his voice reflected his anguish. "I never meant to hurt him, Seamus, never."

"I believe you," Seamus husked. "As will he. Let us go, Vincent," Seamus urged, squeezing his friend's upper arm.

Vincent stared at him for long moments and Seamus began to fear the other Vampire was going to refuse. It looked as though Vincent was waging some kind of inner battle.

"I love Wyl. Only Wyl," Vincent whispered, his voice sounding more like a plea than a statement.

"Then show me, my friend. Prove yourself by joining me and going to him." Seamus held out his hand. He almost sagged in relief as Vincent took it, clasping tightly. Seamus fought the impulse to shiver. Wyl had mentioned a chill that seemed to be present when Vincent was not acting himself. Now that chill was evident even to one without Sensitive qualities. He prayed they were not too late, for the sakes of two men he loved almost as much as his own Chosen. Wrapping Vincent in a tight embrace Seamus took to the air.

****

Seamus guided them to a small, innocuous house at the end of a sparsely occupied, winding road on the outskirts of their town. He glanced at his brother of the heart. Vincent looked pale, tired and Seamus wished he had acted, done something, anything, to have helped sooner. However, he pushed the thoughts away. Regrets could serve no purpose. Vincent was here, as he had promised Gabriel. He had no idea what the Lycan had uncovered, but he was certain that the need to bring Vincent here meant he had some kind of plan.

"Ah, Seamus, Vincent, welcome, welcome. My name is Gawain and you are both welcome in my home and to my care as your host."

Seamus stared at the small, slender, elderly man that opened the door to them. He was hardly what Seamus had envisioned, but before he could say anything, a strong hand had gripped his wrist and pulled him, and Vincent, inside.

"You family are all in here. They'll be very glad to see you," Gawain smiled ushering them into his house and down a dimmed hallway.

Seamus wondered if Vincent was as equally dazed by the incessant babbling of the small man. The Vampire could not even begin to follow half of what was said, it was spoken quietly and so quickly and, seemingly, without the man pausing for breath.

They were led into what appeared to be a sitting room. Large, comfortable paisley-print chairs had been set around a circular table. Seamus' keen eyes took in candles and crystals that formed another circle around his family. The chattering man who still held tightly to Vincent's forearm was clearly more than he seemed to be. The fire in an ornate marble place seemed to flare more brightly as he led Vincent towards Wyl.

As Vincent was led into the centre of the circle, the Vampire collapsed in the older man's arms. Seamus was amazed the slight frame could effortlessly support the bigger man.

"Seamus, remove the table and then take Wyl's seat. Wyl, I need you here." Gawain's voice had lost its reedy, high-pitched quality. Instead a commanding, baritone took its place.

"What can I do?" Wyl asked, helping support his unconscious mate, his face pale with anxiety.

"Do you love him? Are you willing to fight for him?" Gawain asked sombrely

"Yes," Wyl replied. "Anything. I would die for him," he added passionately.

"Then let us begin the fight."

Wyl gasped as Gawain gripped his shoulder and he felt himself shift. The sensation was enough for him to close his eyes for a second and when he opened them he stared. He was no longer in Gawain's house. He was not in any house or building. He did not know where he was. The landscape was like a wilderness of hard ground, large stones and leafless, spiny shrubs and everything was in varying shades of blue. He glanced at Gawain and himself. He gave a gasp as he saw they were also blue.

"Where are we?" he asked.

"I suppose you could call this Vincent's personal hell," Gawain explained. "This is where he feels he belongs. Somewhere cold and hostile, without any comfort or hope."

"Why?"

The word was a whisper of pure anguish and Gawain turned to face the young Vampire.

"The creature we face does not realise it, but I know all that has passed between it and Vincent. Marcus forced Vincent to experience being raped by a demon. It did not happen physically, but the memory remains and it has eaten deep into Vincent's psyche, his soul. He feels tainted. I do not know what the creature we face is, it hides itself using Vincent as a shield, but the form you will see is not its true self. It is the representation of Marcus' mental manifestation. This thing is feeding on Vincent's fear and self-loathing. He feels he has betrayed you. As a Vampire, Vincent could sustain this creature for centuries and so it is determined to keep him."

"It's not going to have him," Wyl said with determination. "Vincent did not turn away from me when I thought I was tainted. I will not desert him, no matter what happened. I know he loves me. He loves me as much as I love him."

"It will use more than just force, my friend," Gawain warned. "It will not be an easy fight. Somehow you need Vincent to want to leave here, to resume his place at your side and feel deserving of your love. You have two battles to win."

"Whatever it takes," Wyl growled. "Vincent is mine and I won't leave him here."

"Then let us find him and bring him home," Gawain nodded.

It did not take long to find Vincent. The blond Vampire knelt, head bent, at the feet of a huge, red-skinned demon. Where Vincent, like Gawain and himself, was in shades of blue, the demon stood out as starkly red. Wyl tensed. This was his adversary. This was what had been trying to come between him and his husband. Wyl recognised the chill it emanated. It was the remnant Wyl had been feeling when with Vincent. It was distinct from the other senses of coldness he had experienced when there was evil present. A part of him distantly wondered if the cold he could sense was as individual as the evil he faced.

"Vincent still resists the creature, but his ability weakens with each passing moment he is here. You must reclaim that which is yours. The power to defeat this thing lies within both of you. I cannot challenge it without risking destroying Vincent."

"Vincent belongs with me," Wyl murmured determinedly. "I'm bringing him back where he belongs." He began to advance towards his lover, ignoring the red demon as much as he was able. He only stopped moving when the demon took its own step towards him.

"He's mine now, pretty-boy," it said, its voice a low seductive purr.

"He'll never be yours," Wyl countered instantly. "He's mine."

"Really?" the tone was dismissive. "I've known him in ways you never have."

The barb still hurt even though Wyl knew the truth. He lifted his jaw determinedly.

"You have never known him at all," he retorted, remembering Gawain's words. "You were never there, just Vincent and the rogue mage."

The strength of Wyl's words sent the demon back a step and Vincent's head slowly raised as if a great weight had lifted.

"Vincent," Gawain's voice reached him despite the distance that separated them. "You must put your trust in Wyl and come to me. You must break free of the demon's power over you and there you are too close, too easy to remain under its sway. Come to me, my friend."

It seemed to Vincent that it was the most difficult thing ever asked of him as he tried to crawl to Gawain. He was peripherally aware that his beloved Wyl was fighting hand-to-hand with the demon, but he was incapable of doing anything more than keep inching forwards on his hands and knees. As he kept up his dogged movements, it seemed as though some colour other than blue was visible around Gawain and that seems to infuse a little more strength into his barely functioning limbs.

It felt like an eternity before Gawain's hand was on his shoulder. A frisson passed through his body imbuing warmth through Vincent. It strengthened him more and, with help from Gawain, he struggled to his feet. He stared into the eyes of the man before him, certain that there was something far older and more powerful hidden behind the innocuous exterior.

"Yes, Vincent." The Vampire heard the words in his head and his eyes widened. "I am more than you see. For me to try and destroy your adversary would destroy you in the process. It draws its strength from you and found a way to use you to pass from the demon world into the mortal world where it hid within you. This is not its true form. It picked this shape because you fear it. Break that fear and you break its link and it can no longer hide in you or feed on you. It becomes vulnerable. Wyl cannot win alone."

Vincent turned his attention to his mate and Wyl's fight with the red demon. Wyl's shirt was torn from his body and red welts streaked across his exposed back and chest from the whip-like tails. The Vampire could see no sign that Wyl's attack had weakened or had any other effect on the demon. He felt a potent mix of love and anger well up from deep within his soul. Wyl still loved him. Wyl was fighting for him. Live or die, vanquishers or defeated, they belonged together. Wyl was as much a part of him as he was a part of his Chosen.

"I won't let it hurt him anymore," Vincent growled. "I should have been honest in the beginning." He looked at Gawain. "You know, don't you?" he asked. There was a mixture of sympathy and strength in eyes where the colours shifted and swirled like a kaleidoscope.

"Yes and so does Wyl. In his words you did not think him tainted and he knows you did nothing to try and break your bond with him. Together you can defeat the beast he battles. Alone, neither of you can win."

Turning back towards the combatants Vincent gave a low, feral growl. Nothing and no one would take Wyl from him. Not while he lived. With a primal bellow of fury he sped from Gawain to his struggling Chosen. He saw the demon push Wyl aside, ready for Vincent's attack.

It never came.

At the last second, Vincent veered away from the creature and enveloped Wyl in his arms. They spiralled upwards, beyond the reach of the demon's thrashing tails.

"Vincent." The single word murmured from Wyl's lips held all the love the younger Vampire felt for his mate. He tried to infuse his feelings into Vincent to let the bigger man know Wyl's heart was still his and always would be.

"Forgive me, forgive me," Vincent begged his Chosen but his litany of pleas were silenced as Wyl's lips found his. Vincent opened his mouth inviting Wyl inside, moaning his approval as the younger man's tongue thrust eagerly inside. Vincent kept tight hold of his mate with one hand as the other caressed bare skin. He felt his mate's love warm and strengthen him. He sobbed into Wyl's neck, nuzzling, letting all his fear and shame go. He could hear Wyl murmuring words of love and devotion and his strength grew incrementally.

"Feed from me, my love," Wyl urged. "Let me help you." A soft tongue licked over this throat as Wyl arched his head back offering himself to his lover. Sharp teeth broke the fragile skin and Wyl felt strong suction. It had been too long since Vincent had fed from him and the younger Vampire steeled himself against the pressure that bordered on pain as his mate took that which he needed.

Vincent clutched tightly to the most precious thing he possessed. He tasted his Chosen's unwavering love and loyalty and a strength he had never truly appreciated in the sweet mix. He clutched tighter, realising Wyl held him just as securely. Wyl would never let him go. The knowledge flowed through him, permeating every cell and synapse, warming him, empowering him. He crushed Wyl closer, the younger Vampire matching him strength for strength. Finally he licked closed the small wounds, not willing to deplete his beloved. As he did, he became aware of the shrieks of anguish from the creature below.

The two Vampires stared down at the tableau below them. The demon was no longer red but a shifting montage of colour and its shape ebbed and flowed, diminishing with each passing second. It was enveloped in a silvery light that emanated from Gawain. The old man's own shape was blurred although to Vincent's eyes it seemed that he was bigger, younger and yet there was a sense of seeing something ancient and powerful. As the creature vanished from sight, Vincent and Wyl descended to stand by Gawain.

"It is done."

The voice, reverberated with strength, but as Wyl and Vincent turned to look at Gawain, the world around them vanished. They were back In Gawain's house and the elderly man was smiling.

"It's over," he announced to the four anxious faces that leant eagerly forward. "Now I am going to make some tea and you, my boy," he added patting Vincent's arm. "You are going to tell your family what happened to you and unburden the last of your soul."