Abigail Whistler moved through the motions of a complicated martial arts kata to the tune of the music blaring through the earphones connected to her MP3 player. It had been six months since Blade had appeared and disappeared in her life in the matter of a couple of days. Her father dead, Whistler had only Blade to turn to for guidance. King was far more of a brother or a companion than a guide.
A small smile creased her face when thoughts of King came. She just couldn't figure him out, hadn't been able to for as long as they'd known each other. He was fifty percent swagger, and flaky charm. The other half was a steel hard vampire hunter whose hatred matched her own.
Even that hatred wasn't enough to squash his jovial spirit. Abigail had seen the pure animal of fury and hatred he became after he was tortured by his former sire. He had bowed to Blade then, and something had changed in him that day. His jokes came less frequently, and his training more continuous.
He was now an expert in Baja, a stick-fighting art that was perfect for the stabbing needs of vampire hunting. He trained near constantly, and became more and more withdrawn as time grew on. Abigail trained as well, but she was beginning to worry about King. Before, he had always been light-hearted and focused, now he seemed obsessed. It was a way of life for Whistler, but for King, it just seemed something he did.
As the months had gone on, Abigail realized just how much King had come to mean to her, basically because she was losing him. He'd begun to fashion his own weapons now, after Hedges had died he didn't seem to trust anyone. With a clarity beyond her years, Abigail realized that she had become shut off too, and that it wasn't the way to live a life.
She finished her katas and her thoughts, and straightened up. She needed to talk to him, she knew. It just wasn't something that could be put off. Blade had been cold and hard, and nothing else other than a fighting machine. Whistler didn't want that, and knew her father hadn't wanted that either. As she walked through the Nightstalker's latest hideaway, she noticed that Zoe was gone from her usual spot in front of the computer.
She knew that King would be up on the roof; he preferred the solitude to go through his workouts, not to mention simply pass the time in gut wrenching exercise. She wondered where Zoe was, but Michelle pointed up to the roof. Whistler nodded to the biochemist as she passed, one of the three new members that had risen up from their sleeper cells. Michelle was a biochemist that had worked with Summerfield on the DayStar plague, and was working on a booster after the first one had failed to go global.
Out the back was Radar, named for his likeness to the character on MASH. Radar was their intelligence specialist, and weapons manufacturer, coming up with all the new gizmos that the Nightstalkers used to try to tip the scales. The vampires had been decimated by the DayStar plague, and had only recently come out of hiding again. The last new member was Karen, a haematologist who had created the cure for vampirism, in post-human subjects, anyway. She and King got along well, namely because they rarely spoke to one another, other than to discuss possible new weapons that could affect vampires.
As she moved up the stairs, Whistler smirked at the sight of several half-completed UV Arc laser weapons, modified from Hedges original design. King had created a shameless rip-off of a Star Wars light-sabre. It looked like a violin bow, only longer and made from steel. While he refused to use a silver-inlaid sword, King was quite happy to use his two Sun-Blades, as he called them. He was getting very proficient at using them, although he still preferred to use his guns or his stake-gauntlets, a pair of gloves with twin wrist mounted stakes that he often referred to as paws.
As she neared the top of the stairs, Abigail heard two distinct voices, both Zoe's and Kings. King had been trying to get Summerfield's daughter to write in a diary of late, and it was almost like a game between the two. Whistler slowed her steps and came to a halt as she saw the two of them. King was sitting on the roof, leaning against the roof's boundary wall, with his diary and a small table to lean on. Nestled against him, just under his left arm, was Zoe.
Abigail stifled a smile as Zoe glanced up at King, intent on his diary, and then happily prattled on. King's hand drifted up and ruffled her hair, even as he told her to write it down. She mock growled at him, and straightened her hair. King's face creased into a smile behind his beard, and Abigail smiled as well. She just couldn't figure him out. He had the steel to back up his swagger, but the softness he showed when he thought he was alone showed someone in real pain underneath.
They were silent for a moment, until Zoe stole a glance at King's diary, and compared it with her own. "How come Abby's a rock?" Whistler frowned, and King laughed softly. He glanced up, and she ducked back behind the shelter of the open door.
"It's not that she's a rock, runt, she's more like a steady influence...You have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?" Zoe shrugged.
"No, but you never know what you're talking about, so that makes us even." King laughed again, and Abigail heard the sound of Zoe's book as it slid to the ground. She heard clothing rustle, and chanced a peak around the corner. Zoe was lying down with her head on King's thigh, curled up like the little girl she was. King stroked her hair, and smiled softly, and Zoe sighed. "You love her heaps, don't you?"
King's face registered his surprise at the perceptive young girl as she nestled in closer. He didn't answer for a moment, and then slowly relaxed. "What makes you say that?" Zoe shrugged.
"Just because I don't understand a lot of things doesn't mean I can't see it. You always worry about her when you go and fight the vampires, you always look at her for a long time when she doesn't see you, and you keep trying to save her. When she gets angry at you because you keep trying to save her, you act all huffy and stuff, then when she stomps off, you look at her funny, sad funny. Isn't that what love is?"
King sat for a long time, staring straight ahead, then he snorted. "Too many cartoons for you, runt. We're like brother and sister, like you and Abigail are. Like you and I are. She doesn't really think of me like that." Zoe's eyes flashed open and she sat up in a heartbeat.
"Aha, you didn't say no! That means you love her!" King patted the air in front of them, trying to placate the excited little girl.
"No, well, not really. It's a different kind of love. She loves me like a brother, and I love her like that too, just a little differently." Abigail leant back against the door and bit her bottom lip. Zoe had been right, of course, the way the King looked at her, and worried for her. She knew he would die for her, and nearly had on a few occasions. A shiver ran down her spine as she thought for a moment what a life without Hannibal King would be like.
In that moment, she realised that King was wrong. She didn't think of him like a brother, not anymore. She thought of him as her soul mate, her partner. And she didn't want to be without him anymore, either. What had she come up here for? Her mind was cloudy, and she stepped out from behind the door.
"Abby!" Zoe's excited cry was echoed uneasily by King, who quickly covered his surprised expression to one of blank acknowledgement. I know you're there, he was saying, it's just that I don't really care. There was a slight tense set to his broad shoulders, and she smiled at him. They were comfortable with each other, had been for a long time now, and both acknowledged the closeness between them.
Abigail returned the runt's hug, and pretended not to see the daggers that King cast Zoe's way when she coyly winked at him. She tapped her lightly on the backside. "Scoot, you. Time for bed." Zoe ducked back and planted a kiss on King's cheek, and he feigned nonchalance, but Whistler saw the softness in his eyes. Another kiss followed the first, this one on Abigail's cheek. Zoe scampered off down the steps, leaving the two hunters alone on the rooftop.
King sighed and leant back, staring up at the sky. Abigail sank down beside him and leant against his arm and shoulder. He stiffened a little, but relaxed after a moment. They sat there for a long time, just comfortable with each other, not worried about speech. Finally, King stirred. "What kind of woman do you think we'll be? Through her, I mean? What kind of kid are we raising here, Abby?"
Abigail didn't answer, she just shrugged her shoulders. King closed his eyes and shook his head slowly. "Do you think we'll raise someone that Summerfield would have been proud of?" An echo of grief moved inside of Whistler, thinking of her dead friend. She nodded slowly.
"She's gonna be okay. She's got a great dad, who loves her. It's a big part of it. Her mum would have been proud of you, Han." He nodded silently. "Listen, I've been meaning to talk to you lately. You've been...different." King scoffed.
"How politically correct. I've been fucked up, you mean." She laughed softly.
"Yeah, you could say that. What's up?" Her straight-forward query caught King off guard. He looked at her for a moment, then realized he was staring at her skin, her lips, her eyes. He felt like he was drowning, and he couldn't be happier. With a start he realized as well that she was staring back at him, no doubt wondering what the hell he was doing.
"Ah, you know, just trying to keep it all together." He tried on a beaming, foolish grin, but even he knew it looked false. Whistler took a deep breath in the cool night air.
"You're failing. I want my friend back." King sat for a long time, just staring straight ahead as his guts tore inside and his mind spun. She wanted her FRIEND back. What else could he ever be? There was nothing left in her life but the hunt, and avenging Summerfield, and Hedges, and Whistler, and everyone else that had died. To even think of there being something else was pure, selfishness, and King hated himself for wanted it so badly.
"Your friend..." His low tones trailed off, and this time Whistler was the one studying her friend's face. Her friend? His handsome features were undeniable, and Abigail had often noticed how many of the female vamps had often hesitated for a split second to cast a roving eye over him, considering him perhaps a better pet than meal. They had been like brother and sister once. Once.
Then came the constant death and harsh reality of the hunt. Now? A small part of Whistler wondered if there was maybe something else there, between them. A very powerful part that had slept within her, buried under pain and rage and hate. King's eyes were as hard as agates as he stared at the night sky once more.
"You know, Abby, I remember asking Blade what we'd do after we killed them all, after we won. Now I know why he's so fucking intense all the time. Because you don't win. You just keep fighting a different war. Saving Private fucking Nobody, because you're either dead inside or dead all over. I guess that's the only way to survive. I just never thought I'd get there, too."
Abby slipped her hand onto her friend's knee and squeezed it reassuringly. "You're not dead inside, King. None of us are. We just bury it. And sometimes it comes out. I see it come out in you when you're with Zoe. And sometimes, when you look at me." King's heartbeat sped up for a moment, then he smirked as he slid the mask over his pain.
"Yeah, well, family, right. Friends." Whistler took a breath and leant forwards and kissed him. King's eyes grew wide in shock, and he pulled out of the kiss as he stared at her. Doubt flashed across her face, and she stood up.
"Sorry. I don't know...fuck, sorry." She'd only taken a half a step when King pushed himself up off the rooftop and grabbed hold of her arm. Abigail didn't meet his eyes.
"What the fuck...? Sorry the fuck, what was...?" His eyes widened again as his grin became suddenly wide. "Why the fuck am I asking questions?" He was on her in an instant, his kiss meeting hers with an equal hunger. Abigail sagged into his arms, grateful for once not to have to be strong and invulnerable. The kiss deepened, and King picked her up.
His hands widened to encase her cheeks through her pants, and Abigail's breath rasped out of her throat as she felt his cock hardening beneath his jeans. Her nails raked across the skin at the nape of his neck, and the two of them gasped breaths of air around their searing kiss. Their need for one another was as powerful as any Thirst, and King shouldered aside the door as they made their way to his bedroom. He stepped around the base of the stairs and moved across the floor to his simple mattress and the soft, inky blanket that he had.
He lowered Abigail's body to the softness of the blanket, and ripped at his shirt as Abigail did the same to hers. The two hunters moved together with hunger, each wanting a fierce affirmation from the other that there was something other than the cold hunt.
Whistler moaned as King's hands gripped her ribs in need, and a light of passion enflamed her eyes as the zip on his jeans parted as his cock was released. Her fingers traced over the slightly raised skin of his tattoo, the glyph that had marked him as Danica's. Now the look in his eyes marked him as hers.
King kissed her then, fully and completely, and her thoughts lost track. His short beard scratched at her soft skin, rough and coarse, much like the hunter himself. Abigail thrilled at the touch, and nestled in closer to his strong jaw line. Their lips parted once more as their kisses continued, and Abigail gasped when she felt a slight wetness press against her inner thigh.
Precum leaked out of the eye of his cock as King pushed against her hungrily, his hands shaking slightly. They held still for a moment, then Abigail pulled him towards her, and his body slid upwards over hers, even as his cock slid inside her. King's jaw rippled as he clenched his teeth against her inner heat and the sensations roaring through him.
Abby twisted around him, and King let out a gasp. Her mouth twisted into a smug smirk until he arched his hips against her, and her smug lips turned into a surprised squeal as she felt his shaft piercing her centre even deeper. They continued to move together until King shifted his hands to hold at her shoulders, and increased his thrusting. Abby began to grunt and gasp in time to his thrusts, and her mouth worked soundlessly.
After several more thrusts, King felt Abby gush in her climax, and felt her juices spreading around his shaft. His hips shuddered as he struggled to hold his own climax off, then the urge subsided. Abby clenched around him again, and her nails scored his chest as a second climax hit her. Her breathing was ragged and hungry, and she heaved and twisted, rolling them over until she was on top of her lover.
King grimaced as he felt Abby grind down onto the length of his cock and squeeze. She began to roll her hips around on his groin, and King shut his eyes and bit his lip as she rocked up and down on his cock. His chest heaved and his abdominals clenched as Abby's hands reached up to run through her hair, fully lost in the movement of his cock through her centre.
King drove his hips upwards in time to her rocking motions, and felt himself losing control. This time he couldn't hold it, and Abby leant upwards and he slipped out of her. Whistler reached backwards and grabbed his painfully hard cock, and began to jerk him off as she continued to ride him, sliding the cleft of her butt along the seam of his cock. King only lasted a few seconds of that before he lost control and loosed his climax, bursting his cum up Abby's back and ass.
She continued to work her cum-covered hand over his cock, fully coating his length as she coaxed more and more fluid from him. King sagged back onto the mattress, and Abby smiled softly to herself as she quickly ducked into the bathroom to wash her hand. After a moment, she came back, and slipped under the blanket with him.
King stretched and nestled in closer to Abby as she drew the covers up around them. King's strong heartbeat slowed down eventually, and he breathed in deeply, taking in the scent of the woman in his arms. Abby closed her eyes happily as she leant against her lover, no longer worried about the hunt, or vampires. At least for tonight.