Burn it to the Ground [Werewolves]

[Dacian]

[atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=background,http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v36/Tigeress/Random/postscripts/daci.png][bg=000000][atrb=style,background-position: top; background-repeat: no-repeat; padding: 220px 65px 65px 65px;]Fuck ‘em. Fuck ‘em all. The whole lot. This backward ass town had ruined him. He’d come here for peace, and found himself chin-deep in shit. He’d been stabbed, burned, scarred, rejected, cursed, and more. Every straw has been snapped and set on fire. Well fuck this; he wasn’t taking any more of it. But he was still here. The vampire was trying to drown his sorrows in alcohol. It would take him all night, but he could get drunk eventually. He hadn’t tried in a few decades, and it hadn’t ended well that last time. He didn’t much care, he had to forget this revolting place. Whiskey was his poison of choice tonight, and he couldn’t even enjoy it. Stupid wizarding drinks. They tasted like crap. He felt like stabbing the bar tender and spiking his drink with blood. Maybe that would help its cause. Wincing as he swallowed, he waved an imperious hand at the waitress and ordered another. At least he could take some joy in the fact that he wasn’t going to pay the tab. His senses were mildly dulled, but his mind was still raging with all the crap that had driven him to this. It was a personal low for him; drinking human concoctions to forget humans. He could almost laugh at himself, almost. The bar was bustling with people, but the booth he sat in at the far corner was avoided. It seemed wizards had the sense to stay away, and Dacian made no effort to hide his fangs. The whole fucking world knew where he was, no point in hiding. He slumped back on the padded bench, and took a mental not at how much nicer the Three Broomsticks was than the Hog’s Head. No lingering essence of goat anywhere. Never this many people either. There were lots of scents to distract him, and while he waited for his next free drink, he tried to distinguish each one. Most of the wizards rolls into one scent, trying to pick just one out of the crowd was a struggle. Some scents he recognised, passersby, Hog patrons, and oh... Oh. His focus sharpened, and he began scanning the bustle by the bar. Where was she? Possibly the own redeeming feature about this town. There she was. Werewolf.

[Amelia Pace]

With the full moon only a day away, and her decision made that she would be going against what she was used to, to go into the forest with Connor for the night, she was feeling the pre-moon jitters more so that she was usually. She’d departed the castle after dinner, as was usual for her now, and made her way down to the Quidditch changing rooms, she needed to get out, and further than the Quidditch pitch at that. She just needed to be with somebody who wasn’t going to ask her what was up.

Running up the wooden steps into the Gryffindor changing rooms, she noted without trying the lingering scent of the companion she was seeking along with the ever present stench of sweat that resided in the room from the team’s matches. She entered the room, smiling as she saw Connor pacing past the lockers, at least she wasn’t alone in the constant movement, ”We’re going out,” she announced before even greeting him, quickly making her way over to him, and grabbing a firm hold of his hand and dragging him out of the changing rooms without waiting for any sense of a reply or un-cooperation.

She knew venturing into the village wasn’t the best of ideas, especially considering both of their previous experiences. But she’d blessed the crosses like the books had told her, and she hadn’t taken her own off since. She animatedly told Connor about her day, her lessons, told him about the constant glare she’d received from Connery all of Defence Against the Dark Arts; whilst all the while swinging her hand back and forth, her fingers thread through his. He had no choice but to go with her wherever she took him.

Once in the village, Amelia made a beeline for the pub. She hadn’t come in since she’d met the vampire who had attacked Connor there. She new it would be a busy night, a lot of the seventh years came to the Three Broomsticks on a Tuesday night, so she wouldn’t look out of place. The throngs of people didn’t help when it came to smelling the vampire though. Over the mounds of students and adolescent sweat she didn’t noticed him until she saw him.

She stopped.

With Connor behind her as she’d approached the bar, she’d let go of his hand. She knew he was directly behind her still, him she could smell. She reached out behind her, fisting her hand in the material of his shirt, as her heartbeat sped up, and she attempted to swallow the nerves that had now flourished in her stomach. ”Fuck,” she managed until a baited breath, she took a small step back, the feeling of Connor’s front against her back making her feel slightly safer.

The last time she had been in the presence of this particular vampire, she’d nearly died. And she would have had it not been for Professor Grey finding her and getting her to relative safety and help. That paired with Connery and his action man bravado, she’d survived to tell the tale. But after everything that had happened recently, she still didn’t feel particularly safe in the presence of any vampire, even in a crowded pub like this.

[Connor Pine]

It had been almost a month since Connor had had his rather unfortunate run in with the vampire he now knew as Dom and what a misery filled month it had been. It wasn’t that Connor didn’t appreciate Amelia’s company, more than that he’d come to depend on it, but a combination of constant dull pain from his shoulder and being cooped up in the changing rooms while he healed had put him in a grouchy mood. The sling had lasted about two days before he’d started taking it off at every opportunity and sure his left arm was stiff and painful to move, but he’d rather have limited mobility than no mobility at all.

It didn’t matter anyway, it would be the full moon soon and the change would clear up the remaining yellowish bruises on his torso and fix his collarbone entirely. And boy could Connor tell it was nearly the full moon, his senses were in overdrive, leaving him suffering at the mercy of the magic that seemed to permeate almost everything in the small room, not to mention the less than hygienic habits of several of the students. So when Amelia burst in, interrupting the progress of his seeming mission to wear a groove into the floor with his constant pacing, and announced that they were going out he didn’t protest. Well not much anyway.

He made only a token effort to slip free of her grasp when he realized they were heading into the village and not for a stroll in the forest, not really wanting to let go of her hand even if it did mean spending the evening in the company of other people. And it wasn’t like he could really get a word in to complain as she chatted away, animatedly telling him about her day. It was better that she did the talking anyway; he had nothing new to report. Another day spent going stir crazy in the changing rooms wasn’t news.

The pub that she’d chosen was busy and Connor frowned, wishing she could have chosen somewhere a little quieter, somewhere that smelt less like students and magic and beer. He wrinkled his nose, staying protectively close to Amelia as he followed her to the bar and wincing as somebody jostled past him, sending a jolt of pain through his shoulder. And then, just as Amelia stopped in her tracks, her fingers reaching back to twist into the fabric of his shirt, he caught the scent of a vampire. The smell was faint, but unmistakable; a vampire that was even older than Dom if his nose could be trusted with all the interfering scents of the pub making it difficult to tell.

Connor lifted his hand and gripped Amelia’s shoulder tightly, following her gaze across the room to the man who was sitting in one of the booths in the corner. He felt his blood run cold as he realised the vampire was looking right at them. Right at Amelia. ”Come on,” He tugged back on her shoulder a little, pulling her closer to him rather than making any move back the way they’d come. ”We shouldn’t stay here.” Part of him was itching for a fight, for a chance to prove that he could protect Amelia to her, himself and any of the numerous vampires that seemed to be lurking in the magical village. But he’d already failed her once and with his injured shoulder the chances were he’d fail again.

[Amelia Pace]

She could hear her heart beat in her ears; she felt as if her heart was in her throat, choking her. She grasped Connor’s shirt so tightly that her knuckles were turning white. She barely heard his words; she only just felt his hand on her shoulder pulling her back. She didn’t move another step for breaking the vampire’s eye contact would mean losing. A small, insignificant battle that amounted to nothing. But backing down didn’t appear to be her game plan today; no, backing down meant losing, and she didn’t need to lose something else. She’d lost so much and in such a little time, and only gaining one thing. A nice new constant, but even then, Connor could never replace August and Scott, she doubted anybody could.

She drew a few more shaky breaths before she decided escaping a fight would be better than entering one and losing the war. Even with the Full Moon the next night, she would never have the strength to beat a vampire who was more thirty times her senior. He had other strengths, not necessarily in the form of brawn, but in etiquette of fights, and tactics. She slowly nodded turning into Connor, looking at him, scared, and unashamedly so. He knew the extent of how this man had injured her before; if anything he’d understand why she was suddenly struck silent by his mere presence.

Without a word she began pushing back through the crowd towards the door they had entered. Getting out of the pub and into the fresh area, biting at any spot of exposed skin. The skittish feelings she’d been having all afternoon had quickly dulled at the sight of the vampire. She felt physically sick, flashes of him pinning her to the floor, the trees above him, teeth glinting in the dark. Screaming with no prevail. Tears stinging her eyes. She could feel the same sensation now as the cold air hit her face, cold winds throwing her loose hair into her face, ”I can’t do this,” she admitted, not really knowing what she was referring to, living life normally after so much shit. Going into the forest for the full moon. Pretending that life was normal when it was far from it.

She leant her back against the side of the building. Facing into the main street, she daren’t move out of the light of the pub, she knew exactly what happened when she did. She rubbed away the tears that threatened to fall, searching out Connor in the night before her, ”It’s too much,” she leant on her hands, one flat on the stone of the building, another clutched over her mouth, in vain attempt to hide the sobs that were coming. She looked down at the floor. So many times in the last week she had ended up crying to him. She didn’t think she could cry anymore. There were only so many tears. Much more of the simpering girl act and she would be sure Connor would move on to the next place. Without her.

[Connor Pine]

Seeing Amelia so afraid only made him more angry at the vampire and frustrated with himself. She deserved to have a normal life. To have friends and an education and be able to go out into the village without being attacked by some creature who wanted to make his next meal out of her blood. But he couldn’t protect her, at least not the way he wanted to, by driving all the vampires away. He could only try to get her back to the castle, because, as much as he hated to admit it, that was the only place he knew she was safe.

If he’d stuck close to Amelia before it was nothing compared to how closely he shadowed her as they turned to leave, his head tilted up just a little to keep track of the vampire by scent. Once they were out of the pub, though, he had no way of knowing if the vampire was going to follow. They had to make the most of what little head start they had, get as close to the school as possible and then maybe Connor would be enough of a distraction to get Amelia the rest of the way. He stopped short, the plan that he’d been formulating evaporating as quickly as it had come to him as he realised Amelia was no longer close.

She was leaning against the side of the building, just next to the door, the tears in her eyes doing nothing to hide the fear that was still haunting them. Connor was getting used to seeing her upset, he was undeniably awkward, but he was getting better at knowing when to try and comfort her and when to stay quiet. He didn’t have the time to figure it out tonight, the threat the vampire posed still at the forefront of his mind. ”I know,” He said quietly, moving closer to her again, his hand carefully cupping her cheek.

After a couple of seconds he let it drop away, fingers encircling her wrist instead with just enough pressure to relay his urgency. ”We have to move,” Connor pleaded, glancing over at the door to the pub with nervous agitation. ”Please Amelia.” She didn’t try to resist as he led her quickly to the nearest side-street. Trying to ambush the vampire was risky; if he had any sense he’d be expecting it and their scent trail gave the game away, but Connor couldn’t think of any other options. He had to protect Amelia, he wasn’t going to fail her again.

[Dacian]

[atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=background,http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v36/Tigeress/Random/postscripts/daci.png][bg=000000][atrb=style,background-position: top; background-repeat: no-repeat; padding: 220px 65px 65px 65px;]Dacian wasn’t particularly hungry. He’d fooled his stomach with alcohol, but like any mortal with a sweet tooth, he couldn’t resist a slice of dessert after a meal. The she-wolf spotted him, of course. He must have made her wary. On their first encounter, she’s been curious enough to step into a dark alley to find him. On their second, she’d be wandering the forest alone. Now it seemed – he spared a glance for the wizard boy with her – she was keeping an entourage. Clever girl. Dacian watched as she and the boy retreated, and stayed in his seat until they were out the door. Well, this place and its watery whiskey was suddenly less appealing, especially if there was a werewolf to hunt, boyfriend be damned. Dacian abandoned his booth, making his way between the seas of laughing students and drunken adults. Making it to the door, he discovered the alcohol was having some effect. There was a faux warmness spreading through his limbs, and his fingertips were tingling. It was comforting to feel something, at least, and feeling better being able to concentrate on something other than everything, he set about finding the werewolf’s scent. It didn’t take long, but what was this? He followed the scent to the corner of the pub, and by the time he got there, he was sure. Oh yes, his luck was turning. Two werewolves. The male chose the moment when Dacian was sniffing about at the corner to jump out at him. The vampire gave a grunt, grabbed the over-exuberant wolf by the shirt-front and hauled him back into the alley. He pinned him up against the wall, and proceeded to have a good look at him. Young, like the girl. He leaned in, taking a good sniff. No sharp tang of magic – this boy had been a regular human before he was infected. Interesting. Now his eyes were adjusted to being outside, he could see the boy was a looking a little worse for wear. A blemish around one eye suggested a fading bruise, and by the way he was wincing and favouring one shoulder, something was wrong there too. While the female werewolf was making a fuss, Dacian released the boy’s sweater with one hand and tugged the collar as far as he could. It didn’t pull far enough to expose more than a little discolouration around the collarbone, but what it did reveal on the side of his neck made the vampire grumble. A vampire bite, savage and still pink with scar tissue. Dacian knew the list of vampires in the area was short. Vivian had barely ever touched a living meal, but the boy was old enough to be prey for Lenora, and Dominic was likely still in the area. Lenora he could forgive – but if this was Dominic’s work, Dacian was going to stake him. The young idiot knew this was the hunting grounds of an older vampire, and tapping a werewolf was like stealing gold from a private mine. “Who was it?” He asked, voice gruff but not overly irate. He glanced to the female, but she seemed unharmed. He eased off his hold on the male wolf, seeing as he was quite obviously injured and barely a threat at the best of times.

[Amelia Pace]

The buzzing the impending full moon was causing wasn’t helping the uneasy fearful feeling in Amelia’s stomach. She wanted to stop and hit something, hard, at the same time as just twitching and moving and not sitting still. But it was all way too much, she didn’t need to deal with the freaking vampire right now. Leaving would probably solve the problem, getting back to the school. But it wasn’t like he hadn’t been on school property before, there was nothing stopping him from following her now. And with a wand and being aware he was there, she could always spell his arse into next week. Entire Slytherin Quidditch team versus a vampire? One of those is certainly harder to accomplish, it is true.

Amelia was drawn from her faults by Connor’s hand on her cheek. He’d gotten so much better at dealing with her in the last week. He hadn’t really had much choice, he’d been thrown in at the deep end. She smiled weakly at him, ”Hmm,” was all she managed as he led her down the nearest side street. It made her more uncomfortable. Despite being the other end of the village to where the vampire had attacked her, there were still bins in the alley way, in many ways identical to it. On trying to shake the mental images of being held up against the wall and hand cut she subconsciously clenched her fist and ran her finger over the scar that remained there. Heart beat racing, she hadn’t noticed Connor jump out on the vampire before it was too late. ”Connor!” she cried out, taking a step forwards before catching a glimpse of the vampire and retreating again.

He managed to pick Connor up like he was newborn puppy, having him pinned against the wall – like he had her – almost instantly. He must have known by now that she wasn’t the only Werewolf and all she could see in front of her was him doing to Connor what he had done to her on their later meeting. She stood silently shaking for a moment before she slowly put her hand into her pocket and withdrew her wand, holding it down to her side. Her knuckles were white with the pressure of holding her wand so tightly. But he wasn’t making to bite him. He pulled on his collar and studied the injuries the blonde vampire had given him. She didn’t move, only watching as the vampire eased his hold, ”What? Gunna give him tips? Next time go for the kill?” her voice was shaking, as the rest of her was with nerves. She felt sick, nerves and fear combining together in a battle against her, “Or is that always for the second attack?” she clutched her wand with vigour, she wasn't against turning him to dust, and there were probably a good deal of things in the alley way to use as impaling implements.

[Connor Pine]

All it took was one quick glance out of the alleyway and a deeply inhaled breath through his nose to catch the vampire’s scent again and Connor had his position. He just had to wait, easier said than done with tense anticipation shivering down his spine and he half-turned away from Amelia so she couldn’t break his focus. He had to concentrate, get the timing exactly right and the fear on her face; the tears in her eyes were more than enough to draw his attention away. A step away from her would hopefully be enough to keep her from interfering once she realized exactly what his rather foolish plan was.

Without the element of surprise, though, he should have realised that trying to outmanoeuvre a vampire was practically impossible and his attack was over before it had really begun as an impossibly strong hand grabbed the front of his shirt and pushed him easily back into the alley. Connor struggled against the ironclad grip at first, a vicious snarl tearing from his throat until the force of his back colliding with the brick wall behind him knocked both the fight and the wind out of him. There was nothing he could do as the vampire sniffed at him, dark eyes taking in the collection of injuries Connor had received from another of his kind. He had to force himself to bite back a yelp of pain as his shirt was pulled away from his neck, revealing the pink scar tissue of Dominic’s bite and the purplish bruise across his collarbone.

Connor barely heard the vampire’s question and definitely didn’t understand its significance. He’d never stuck around long enough to find out if vampires were territorial or not and he had far more important things to worry about. Like the fact that Amelia hadn’t run. Why hadn’t she run? ”No!” He bit out as Amelia spoke, attempting to struggle out of the vampire’s grip with renewed vigour. ”Go Amelia!” The fact that the vampire hadn’t bitten him yet didn’t mean that it wasn’t coming and he had to make sure the man didn’t decide he might want dessert all wrapped up in a blonder and more petite package. ”Run!”

[Dacian]

Werewolves were always so defensive. At least shouting each other’s names gave him something to call them by rather than, he-wolf and she-wolf. At least he wasn't crude enough to label them dog and bitch and be done with it. Connor and Amelia. His resident werewolves. Connor had a lot of fight in him, but Dacian countered his struggled by pinning both his shoulder to the wall. A little cruel, perhaps, but it got his point across.

“You, stay still.” He told Connor, then looked to Amelia. “You, stay there.” He cast a sidways glance to her wand. “And if you so much as point that at me, I'll break his other collarbone.” He glanced to it again, gaze lingering. On second thoughts... “Put it away.” She could keep it, but wands were starting to have the same affect on him as holy symbols. Those damn things caused him a world of pain.

“Him?” The female's pronoun did not go unnoticed when she mentioned his motives. “Let me guess: blond hair, big nose, fat lips, buggy blue eyes. Ego the size of the moon and stinks like a cheap cologne factory?” The pair's response was unanimous. “Dominic.” He spat. “Mother fucker.” He raised a brow in Amelia's direction. “I'm going to do the opposite, darling. Next time I see him, I'm going to rip his legs off after I break them.” His toothy grin was not kind.

He eased up a little on the boy, pinning only his uninjured shoulder. “I want to know where he found you, and what he did.” He was going to pay Domic back in kind. If his track record with Vivian was anything to go by, Dacian was surprised that Amelia was still in one piece. The idea that the cocky young vampire was still in Hogsmeade, let alone feeding and hunting his werewolves was really starting to rankle. “Does he know of Amelia?” It was phrased toward Connor, but he glanced to the girl in question in case she felt talkative. If Dacian hadn’t known about Connor up until know, there was hope that Dominic didn’t know about Amelia.

[Amelia Pace]

With her words gone from her lips, she stood rigid, her knuckles white with the tightness of her grip on her wand. Her breathing was laboured, shaking, and fitted. Every time she blinked she saw flashes of his attack behind her lids. She heard Connor’s shouts of her name, but other than at that she couldn’t tell you what he said, all words drowned out by the thumping of her heart in her throat, sound ricocheting through her ears. She closed her eyes and shook her head trying to shake the images from the forefront of her mind. It didn’t work. She could feel it, the pain of his teeth sinking into her neck, draining her of a dangerous amount of blood. A rasped shocked gasp left her lips and she opened her eyes again, looking at the two males before her.

The stench of him. She couldn’t get it out of her head; she could smell her own fear. All her senses were in over drive. She winces as he pushed Connor into the wall some more. That had been her. When the vampire addressed her, she’d tried her best to listen to him. But she was queasy with fear, her palms slick with a nervous sweat. She clenched her jaw, swallowing the rising bile in her throat. She didn’t want to put her wand back in her pocket, she felt safer with it in her hand. She didn’t need to be unarmed and helpless when he decided that Connor’s blood wasn’t good enough for him. A repeat of last time was not what she wanted. The small part of reason she had left was telling her to put it away. He would be less likely to attack if she did as he wanted, would he not?

She listened to his description, agreeing was her automatic reaction. His attention on her again had her keep her hand on her pocket, finger clenched around the wood of her wand; still keeping her hand there even though he was releasing his grip slightly on Connor. Easing his grip on Connor didn’t mean he wouldn’t launch himself back in her direction. She could feel his anger. It was different to any other person, but he wasn’t alive, of course it was different. His words started going through one ear and out the other again, only really hearing them when her name was mentioned again. She blinked a few times, but didn’t answer. No, the confident bite she had had not two minutes ago was gone. Her head too full of flashes of memories. Like everything else, it was all good much.