Title: Knight Life
Author: Luna
Feedback: Loved and appreciated…send it to ambersgrrl@yahoo.com
Archive: Luna’s Night Moves, Tainted Fiction, and Full Moon Romper Room…anyone else please, just ask.
Fandom: Ring of Honor/TNA/Wrestling
Rating: NC-17 (What else would you expect from me?)
Type: Fantasy
Pairings: Too many to list…just read to find out who’s with who.
Disclaimer: I have not now nor have I ever been associated with Ring of Honor or TNA. All the characters that you recognize belong to Ring of Honor, TNA, or themselves with the exception of the ones I’ve created. Nothing is being gained from this except a need to pass the time.
Summary: They’re tired of being lonely wandering from town to town and living for centuries in the company of their chosen brethren. Now they’re going to do something about it. Will fate play kindly with them or will they be left in misery?
Author’s Note: This is going to be slightly AU. Please people, if that bothers you do us both a favor and STOP READING NOW!!!
Anything else: Many thanks need to go to my loving sister who held my hand as I worked out the kinks in this idea. My other sister, the one god forgot to give me at birth, much love goes out to her for her most excellent beta work and all the time she spends holding my hand. You girls ROCK!!!!
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The line for the club followed along the street continuing on around the corner for a short distance. The five young women strode confidently past those unlucky enough to be standing in line on a cold January night. Mya shivered as the wind pricked at the skin exposed by the barely there shirt. Martina wrapped her arm around her sister’s shoulders to try and share body heat.
A couple of young men clearly intoxicated leered at the young women. “You girls looking to party,” one of them slurred.
Martina’s upper lip peeled back from her teeth. “Not with you,” she returned.
“Oh c’mon,” the other man tried. “Don’t be like that. We can get you in…it’s a sure thing.”
“Which is why you happen to be here, right?” Mya shook her head. “No thanks, we’ll take our chances at the door.”
The girls continued on down the sidewalk. The young men yelled bitch at their retreating forms. The women in line weren’t much better, one actually calling out loudly enough that just because they acted like sluts didn’t mean they were any more likely to get in.
Paige raised an eyebrow at that, considering that even with Mya’s fishnet shirt she still had more skin covered than the bottle blonde spewing her vitriol. Paige calmly walked over to the young woman, her four friends tensing slightly. “Apparently you don’t own a mirror,” Paige commented sweetly though the look in her eyes belied the sugary tone.
“What’s that supposed to mean,” the blonde shot back angrily.
The crowd began thinning out around the two. No one wanted to be nearby if these two girls decided to start a fight. Paige stopped a breath away from the other woman. “It means that you obviously couldn’t get in with what you’re not wearing,” she gestured to the scarf top held on by a string and the micro-miniskirt. “So anyone that does get in obviously was willing to do something you wouldn’t.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the blond said huffily tossing her blonde mane over her shoulder.
Paige rolled her eyes at the display. “Of course you don’t,” she returned sarcastically. She quickly rejoined her friends as they made their way to the door and Paige’s connection into Knight Flamye, the bouncer.
There was a brief moment of panic when Mya thought she’d forgotten her ID. Luckily for them all Martina, knowing how absent-minded her sister could be, had grabbed it herself on the way out the door.
Martina had announced that the first round of drinks would be on her and her sister. The two girls were standing at the bar waiting for their drinks. The club was really crowded not that they had expected any less. It just seemed as if there was something different about this place and it wasn’t the stunning lack of sleezioids trying to hit on or grab them at every opportunity.
Knight Flamye didn’t stick to the usual club theme of dark colors with lights only bright enough to make sure that the patrons’ didn’t trip over their feet. The lighting was done in such a way that the usual club feeling was missing from the atmosphere. The play of shadows dancing over the walls and other fixtures gave the feeling of being in the middle of a fire. Of course the heat, which was a couple of degrees warmer than was normal in a place like this, helped the illusion.
Soft reds, oranges, and yellows reflected off the white surfaces in splashes of color adding to the over all experience of the club. It seemed that this place had something different to offer and the clientele was eating it up.
A group of men seated in one of the darker corners the club had to offer watched the passing display. They either didn’t notice or didn’t care to notice the flirtatious smiles sent their way. They talked quietly amongst themselves not really sure why they had bothered to come out at all.
The five men were an odd looking bunch. To look at them you wouldn’t think that they would willingly spend time together, yet there they were clustered around a table. One of the young men dressed entirely in white even down to his corduroy pants had dancing blue eyes, blonde hair that framed a handsomely attractive face and stood nearly seven foot tall. It was the eyes though that held some amusement as if he had just heard a joke and was eager to share it.
The one seated on his right looked to be older but had that indefinable something made his age a guess. He had a bald head, piercing brown eyes, and a goatee that somehow lent him an ominous air.
Next to him was a brunette with intense blue eyes that just stared at the world around him taking it all in. His tight white tee shirt, loose fitting jeans, and beard covering his lower jaw all combined to make him appear both like the boy next-door and infinitely more dangerous.
Next was a dark haired young man with streaks of violent purple strewn throughout the inky black strands. His emerald gaze flicked around the room his tongue absently playing with the piercing in his lower lip. There was a visible spider web tattoo on his right elbow peeking out from underneath a tee shirt.
The last young man seemed to be scowling at everything. His dark eyes were trained on the drink in front of him. His bald head sported a black bandana. His tanned skin attested to his Puerto Rican-Italian heritage. Dark colors seemed to be his theme, from the charcoal tee shirt to the black baggy jeans over a pair of black work boots. The very air around him seemed to scream street thug.
They were definitely an odd array that somehow seemed to belong together. They had the look of young men that had seen too much too soon. The quintet were comrades, watching and waiting for something that they couldn’t define. It was that elusively tempting feeling had led them to this place.
Running a hand over his bald head in frustration he raised dark eyes a scowl still marring his handsome features. “Why are we here again,” he growled. The voice that emerged from that body definitely didn’t match. It was a deep bass rumble, like two stones grinding against one another.
“You know why we’re here Ki, so keep your eyes open,” Aries said fingers sliding through his brown hair.
“They are open asshole,” Ki returned shooting the other man a dark look.
“Can you two not do this now,” Daniels asked rubbing his face tiredly as he glanced from one young man to the other.
“Don’t you know by now that this is the only amusement they get? Leave ‘em alone Chris,” Lance said his blue eyes dancing merrily.
The older man sighed. “Yeah, but it would be nice if for one night they could not go a full twelve rounds,” he answered.
He watched as the two men glared at each other. If they kept that up it was going to make for a very long very difficult night, one that they could all do without. They all knew why they were here. It was the nagging sensation they felt from time to time, the urge to connect with life outside of their little circle.
The man known to millions of wrestling fans as Christopher Daniels contemplated the path that had his life had taken. It still amazed him after all this time just how gullible people were. They would believe whatever nonsense that he told them. Shaking his head let his gaze wander over the others.
His dark eyes became glazed as he lost himself to memories he hadn’t allowed to surface in centuries. He had thought he had known so much, been so sure of himself. God, what a naïve fool he had been, he thought disparagingly. His family’s fortune and position had blinded him to the dangers that lurked in the dark.
That fateful night was permanently etched in his mind. It was some fancy feast or other such gathering that they had used as an excuse to celebrate. She was one of the new serving wenches that his family employed. She had been charming and blindingly beautiful. Her long honey colored hair and sweet blue eyes had stolen the breath from his lungs.
He had ignored the whispered comments about her previous employers and gladly accepted her into his life and bed. She was everything he could have wanted in a partner except for the misfortune of her birth. He ached to make her truly his. Little did he know that he was the one being used.
It happened so slowly that by the time he realized his folly it was already too late. Their relationship was always passionate and the occasional blood play had never bothered him. It was that final night, the night that made him what he was, that changed him forever.
Spent from a recent round of lovemaking he laid languidly in bed. He paid no mind as she crawled up his body to nibble on his neck. The pulse beat steady under her traitorous lips draining the life-giving source from his body. By the time he realized there was a problem he was too weak to fight her off.
As he lay there thinking that he was going to die she did the strangest thing. She made a cut over her heart with a single fingernail; the blood welled in that fresh cut. Cupping the back of his head she brought him flush with the wound. Even as his mind rebelled at the idea he found himself gulping down that copper flavored liquid. His body fought the unnatural instinct of dying.
The next thing that he remembered after the blissful darkness claimed him was waking to strange surroundings. The bed on which he was lying was unfamiliar and highly uncomfortable. His ears rang with sounds that had no source in the room. His stomach twisted violently.
She came to him then as if sensing his need. She floated into the room her blue eyes still as beautiful as the first time he had seen them. It surprised him just how much he still wanted her even though he knew there was something different, wrong, about her.
She had introduced him to his new life, a life that consisted of living off the blood of others. She had taught him everything he needed to know along with a few tips and tricks she had picked up along the way. She taught him to feed without calling attention to what he was doing.
He didn't realize it at the time but with every obstacle he overcame the sadness in her eyes only grew. It wasn't until that last fateful night that he realized something was well and truly wrong with his beloved companion. She didn’t speak to him the entire evening seeming content to just hold him close.
Near dawn she finally broke her silence telling him she was going to go for a quick walk. He tried to persuade her not to go but she would have none of it. He watched her retreating back with a feeling of foreboding in the pit of his stomach. As the dawn rapidly approached he watched the small courtyard anxiously. He kept vigil behind the heavy drapes they brought with them wherever they went.
He breathed a sigh of relief as her familiar form entered the courtyard. Then to his everlasting horror he watched as she stopped in the middle of the path. Small delicate hands threw the dark hood back just as the first rays of dawn broke over the horizon. Her beautiful face was wreathed in a golden halo giving her an angelic appearance. The sun reflected gloriously off her honey blonde hair; those blue eyes he loved so much danced with some inner joy.
In that instant he was struck once again by her infinite beauty. He only had that moment to admire her form before the sun’s harmful rays began to ravage her once lush body. It all happened so quickly that had he not been frozen to the spot he would never have made it to her in time to save her. Within moments all that was left of the vibrant young woman he had known and shared so much with was a pile of ash.
For the longest time he believed that his heart had died that day right along with her. She had been his everything and now she was gone, lost to him for reasons that, to this day, he still didn’t understand.
He shook his head to clear the past from his mind. It did no good to dwell on things that he could not change. Sighing he focused his chocolate gaze on the scene in front of him. If his heart still beat it would have stopped as he caught a flash of blonde hair and the warmest smile this side of heaven.
Christopher’s hands shook as he reached for his drink gulping down the last of it. “This can’t be happening,” he thought, clearly distraught.
Lance’s hand came to rest on the older man’s shoulder. “You alright there,” he asked concerned by the shell-shocked expression on the other man’s face.
Daniels watched as the young woman’s gaze easily caught his. She flashed him an even brighter smile then blushed as a short dark haired female leaned in. Both young women laughed a sound that constricted around his unbeating heart. Before he could even check the thought it left his lips. “It’s her,” he whispered his voice choked with emotion. Before any of his comrades could stop him he was halfway across the dance floor.
“Shit,” Hoyt growled quickly getting to his feet to follow the man they all looked up to. The older man clearly wasn’t in his right mind if he was going to go charging off like that. It was something more common to Low Ki or Aries, or even Punk, but not their normally reserved leader. “Gods below,” Lance thought irritably, “could things get any worse?”