"Dammit, I told you I needed a break after the last one."
A sneering chuckle. "The job doesn't come with vacation time, you know."
"I know. Who is it?"
"Take a look."
An image appeared against the dark, jagged rock wall. The man called Hunter sat up straighter as he watched, then turned to the other man. "A kid?"
"Hardly. Don't let the innocent eyes fool you, Hunter. This one's ripe for the picking. Should be an easy mission, and then I'll see what I can do about getting you some time off."
"Fine." the voice cold, hard, determined. "Tell Him it'll be taken care of."
**********************
Hunter leaned against the wall of the hotel room, in the shadows as was his habit, even though there was no need to hide, as the occupant of the room couldn't see him unless he wished it. The shadows were just where he felt most at home, and so he leaned there, arms crossed, piercing hazel eyes watching his charge kneeling in front of the low coffee table, razor blade in hand, deftly cutting a fine line of white powder onto the smooth, glass surface.
His expression emotionless, he watched the young man bend over the table, tilting his head as he inhaled sharply through a rolled up $20, then sitting back hard on his heels, eyes closed tightly as the familiar rush of the cocaine sped through his system. When the boy's eyes opened, Hunter could see the dilated, glazed look in the emerald orbs and smiled to himself. His superior had been right. This one was going to be easy.
"Not so easy, Hunter."
Hunter's head whipped to the side and he gave a low growl, pushing away from the wall to glare at the intruder.
"What the fuck are *you* doing here?!" he snarled, eyes narrowing coldly on the pale-skinned blonde.
"The same thing you are, Hunter. I'm here to do my job," a serene smile that reached warm, almost glowing blue eyes.
Hunter lowered his eyes to the floor, fists clenched, then raised them again, glaring. "Don't fuck with me this time, Christopher."
"I'm afraid I have no choice. You can't have him."
Hunter bit back a curse that would have turned a sailor's ears red. He didn't need this...not now. For centuries he and Christopher had been on opposite sides of an eternal struggle, sometimes he would triumph, sometimes Christopher would walk away the victor. But this time...dammit, this one was important, he could sense it even when he'd been given the mission, unspoken by his superior, but obvious nonetheless. The boy was key, and he couldn't go back without him.
Christopher smiled again. "You sense it too. He's important. I can't let you have him, Hunter."
Hunter smirked coldly. "I don't recall asking your permission, Wings." He didn't know what made him use the nickname, one he'd dubbed his adversary with a long time ago, during one of their more amicable battles in a rare moment of humor.
Christopher looked over at the young man who sat on the floor, leaning back against the couch, eyes half-shut, a look of dazed ecstasy on his pretty face. Christopher's eyes were sad, compassionate, looking into the boy's heart and seeing the pain there that he hid from with the drugs. Then the ethereal blonde looked back to Hunter.
Hunter snorted harshly. "Don't look at me like that, the kid's a lost cause and you damn well know it. It's just a matter of time before he comes to our side anyway, I'm just here to speed up the inevitable."
Christopher tilted his head, long, flowing platinum streaked hair tumbling around his shoulders. "Nothing in this universe is inevitable, Hunter, you know that. He's hurting, I can heal him."
"Not if I stop you."
The other man laughed softly, a sweet, chiming sound. "You have no power over me, as well you know."
Hunter took a step closer to his adversary, eyes hard. "All I know is I have to deliver this kid to my master, and I can't let you get in the way of that, regardless of our history."
Christopher looked up at the taller man, eyes warm. "History? Is that what you call a 700 year old relationship?"
Hunter snorted. "Relationship? More like a 700 year nightmare. You know what I meant."
The blonde nodded, eyes no longer warm, but almost sad. "I do. That was a long time ago, Hunter. It has no bearing on the present."
Hunter scowled, glancing from the boy to Christopher. "I don't want to have to fight you."
"It doesn't appear there is an alternative." Sapphire eyes, though still sad, now also determined.
Hunter gave a short nod, clenching his jaw. "Then so be it." He smiled then, a hard, cold smile that held no humor, something he'd lost the capacity for centuries ago. "It'll be just like old times, huh?" And disappeared in a flash of blood-red flames.
Christopher sighed, head down. "Yes. Just like old times." He said to no one, then disappeared as well in a glow of sparkling white light.
*************************
"I love you..."
A low, rumbling chuckle vibrated against the chest he lay upon. "You love me, do you, pet?"
"Aye."
"Not just my title? My gold? My cock in your pretty little ass? Hmmm?"
The platinum head resting against his chest shook in denial. "Nay. I love *you*, milord."
Hunter rolled suddenly, lifting up to stare down into wide, sapphire eyes. He smirked a bit, bending to drag his tongue hotly across swollen, pink lips, swallowing the shivering gasp the move elicited. He felt his cock stir to life yet again at the sweet sound. Gods above, the little blonde was meant to be nothing more than a passing fancy...but damned if he wasn't getting under Hunter's skin rapidly.
He broke the kiss and stared hard down into those glowing blue eyes. "Don't love me, lad. Don't."
Christopher smiled almost sadly, one elegant hand lifting to touch Hunter's stubbled cheek. " 'Tis too late, milord."
Hunter closed his eyes, his voice rough. "Then I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Not bothering to explain his words before devouring silken pink lips in a kiss and drowning himself in the sweetness that was his lover.
*************************
"Back so soon?"
"Don't start. It's gonna take a little more time than I thought. Don't worry. I've got it handled."
"I hope so. For your sake."
**************************
"Shall I assign someone else to this case?"
"No....I can do it. I won't let him have the boy."
"I hope not. For all our sakes."
***************************
"Don't lie to me, damn you!!" the crack of a whip, a scream of pain, the scent of blood.
"Please...Hunter..."
"No!! Damn you!" a crack in his voice, betrayal.
"Listen to me, please...I didn't..."
"Lies! All lies!!" the crack of the whip, no breath for a scream this time.
"No...I would not lie to you...believe me..."
A broken sob, another crack of the whip. "Damn you....you said you loved me...damn you..." departing footsteps, the clanging of a barred door slamming shut, the rasp of a rusty lock sliding home.
"I did...I do..." said to an empty cell, no one to hear his cry.
***************************
"He reminds me of you."
Hunter didn't bother looking up, he'd recognize that voice anywhere, no matter how many decades had gone by since he last heard it. "What the fuck are you talking about? He's nothing like me." Looking across the nightclub to the dance floor where the boy, in an ecstasy induced trance, danced wildly.
"He *is* like you, Hunter. You long ago." Christopher stood to Hunter's side, observing the boy as well. "Hurting, running from it, and when running doesn't work, hiding. Yes, he reminds me very much of you."
Hunter looked up at Christopher from where he crouched low to the floor, rising slowly to his full height, eyes hard. "You don't know what the hell you're talking about."
Christopher tilted his head. "Don't I? I remember, Hunter."
Hunter sneered. "You remember, do you? Do you remember your lies? Hmm? Do you remember all those goddamn sweet lies you told me, about loving me, about needing me, about never leaving me? Because that's what I remember, Christopher, that's what I remember."
Christopher's eyes lowered. "I remember." He opened his mouth as if to defend himself, to explain, but closed it. The time had long since passed for rehashing the past. Besides, what good would it do. Hunter had chosen his path, and the truth of what had happened between them could not change that, could not restore Hunter's soul.
Hunter's eyes hardened even further when Christopher made no attempt to defend against the accusations. "What, no simpering denials this time? No sad-eyed defenses?" Hunter snorted derisively. "You're getting weak, Christopher, there was a time when you were worth my effort."
Christopher's head shot up at that, eyes flashing. "And when was that, Hunter? When you had me chained in your dungeon and whipped to within an inch of my life for some imagined offense against you? Is that when I was worth your effort?"
Hunter's brows arched appreciatively. "Well, well, it seems there's life in you yet. Here I thought you'd long since morphed into one of their mindless little drones."
Christopher clenched his fists, staring at the floor and breathing deeply in an effort to collect himself. Hunter had no idea how close to the truth he was. Outbursts like that were frowned upon. More than frowned upon, he would likely be facing recriminations when he returned. Instead of responding, Christopher looked up at Hunter for a moment, then turned and drifted across the dance floor towards the boy.
Hunter arched one brow, watching. He probably should engage Christopher right then, stop him from whatever he was about to do, but the boredom of the past many decades without a good fight made him hesitate, some part of him wanting to extend it, to draw out their predestined battle. Besides, there was little Christopher *could* do with Hunter close on his heels. So Hunter leaned back to watch.
************************
The wounds were too many, the dungeon master had done his job too well and Hunter couldn't take back what he had ordered done. His beautiful little liar was dying.
"I forbid it, Christopher. I forbid you to die. Do you hear me?" He stood over the narrow cot where his lover lie.
Pained sapphire eyes opened to stare up into icy hazel ones. Even still, love shone in those crystalline depths. "Ever the mighty lord...you cannot...command death...Hunter..."
"Will you prove yourself the liar you claimed not to be, then? You swore not to leave me, lad. I hold you to that." Unwilling to accept the reality.
Christopher's eyes closed briefly, then opened once more, an other-worldly glow to them that startled Hunter. "I love you. I will never stop loving you. And I forgive you, Hunter. But I have to leave. I'm sorry." Then the glow faded and Hunter was left to wonder if he'd imagined it.
"Nay. Nay, Christopher, do you hear me?" Too late. The life was gone and his little liar was no more.
Hunter stared down at the bruised, battered, lifeless body on the cot, shaking with rage. His anguished roar could be heard well into the village below. For one full day and night, Hunter stood vigil over his lover's body, then, finally, allowed the priest to remove it and bury it in some unmarked place on unblessed ground. Damned. For all eternity, Christopher was damned. Or so Hunter thought.
****************************
Christopher stood in front of the boy, peering up at him. His cheeks were unhealthily pale, elfin nose flushed red, probably from cocaine done earlier that night. His hair, an indistinguishable riot of colors from purple to faded blue to clay red, tumbled haphazardly down around slender shoulders, tangled a bit and damp with sweat. Still, for all his disarray, the boy had an impish beauty that was undeniable.
Christopher opened his mind to the boy's, listening for a moment, eyes filling with tears he could not shed as he heard the pain, felt it pouring from the boy, saw it as clear as if it were his own. Then, closing his own eyes, Christopher reached out a slender, graceful hand, hovering it just above the boy's heart, chanting silently.
Hunter stood up straighter, watching Christopher. A glow of glittering light began where his hand hovered above the boy's heart and Hunter cursed, charging towards them. A ball of flame formed in his hand and, hesitating only a split-second, Hunter hurled it at Christopher, sending him flying back to slam against the far wall. The crowd of dancers continued, unaware of the primal battle that had just begun in their midst.
Only the boy seemed to sense something, pausing in his dancing to look around, confused by the surge of love he'd felt for an instant before another surge, this time of pure hate, had shoved it away.
Christopher stumbled to his feet in time to deflect another shot of flame from Hunter, pale blue eyes narrowing and his ethereal features hardening into something, while still beautiful, frightening at the same time. Righteousness, and Hunter might have been afraid if he'd had the capacity for that emotion, or any other.
Raising his hands above his head, Christopher swiftly formed a ball of pulsing white light, shaping it easily into a dagger and sending it flying towards the man he'd once loved...the man who'd become a demon. Hunter dodged the strike, snorting.
"Is that the best you can do, Christopher? Pitiful mage bolts? Surely you've improved since the last time we battled. I have." And, to prove it, swept his hand in an arc before him, sending a wave of flames shooting across the dance floor towards his rival, who was forced to release his wings and swoop up towards the ceiling to avoid the wall of fire.
Hunter looked up to where Christopher hovered near the rafters, for a moment a small flicker of emotion filling his cold heart as he took in the incredible awesome beauty of an angel in full fury, wings beating powerfully in the air, eyes sparking, hair a wild halo of platinum and gold around his head and shoulders. Hunter almost remembered why he'd loved Christopher in the first place, so many centuries ago.
***********************
"I'm waiting, pet..." his eyes closed impatiently, wondering what the little imp was up to this time.
A soft giggle from somewhere to his left and he swung his hand out in that direction, briefly brushing smooth, warm flesh before his target darted out of reach again with another laugh.
"Patience, milord, it is a virtue, or so I'm told." that silky, honeyed voice that had the ability to bring Hunter to his knees with little more than a word, shivering down the older man's spine, settling tightly in his loins.
Hunter snorted, tiring of the game, but didn't open his eyes, for some reason he didn't understand he was loathe to disappoint his little golden-haired lover, though why that was, he dare not examine.
Then, suddenly, his patience was rewarded and he sucked in a breath at the delicious feel of soft, warm hands sliding up his strong thighs, pushing aside his long tunic to wrap firmly around the turgid length of his throbbing cock. He let his head fall back on a groan, reaching down to tangle his fingers in the wealth of silken curls of his lover, sighing in pleasure as slender, elegant fingers curled around his cock and began to stroke lightly, teasingly.
Hunter growled at the infuriating slowness of those strokes, hips bucking forward. That got him a giggle from below and a squeeze.
"Anticipation, Hunter...'tis said to be more satisfying than the actual act."
Hunter growled again, fingers tightening in the soft length of Christopher's hair. "What bloody fool said such a thing?" he still didn't open his eyes, that part of the game, at least, he was enjoying. But the rest could go straight to Hades. "Cease your teasing, boy...I want your mouth on me, Christopher...now..."
Christopher felt his breath catch in his throat at the lusty admission. He felt dizzy from the wave of lust that washed over him and he swiftly abandoned all pretense of coyness, gripping his master's cock firmly and leaning forward to sink his mouth down the thick length, his own pleasured whimper accompanied by the ecstatic groan from above.
Hunter felt the air fly from his lungs at the first, heated touch of those sinful lips on him, and very nearly came undone right then and there. Then the wicked tongue came into play, and sharp, white teeth along his length and Hunter lost all semblance of control, gripping his lover's head firmly in his hands and moving it as he needed it, groaning and cursing as pleasure suffused him.
And, at the final moment before he let loose into that suckling, hot mouth, Hunter groaned out, "I love you..."
***********************
In the millisecond of time that a human could not comprehend but that was an eternity to a being from the other side, Hunter saw his chance, a minor mistake that he doubted Christopher even noticed yet...and took it. Sweeping across the floor to the boy, Hunter chanted swiftly in his ear, watching with a wicked smirk as realization dawned on Christopher's face and he swooped down towards them, intent on stopping Hunter, but too late.
As Christopher dropped to a crouch in front of him, Hunter wrapped his big hand around the boy's throat, jerking him back with a snarl. "Well, well, lookie what I've got..." He curled his lips in a dark impression of a smile, tightening his hand on the boy's throat slightly, growling in his ear. "Welcome to your very own, personal hell, Jeffrey." And the two disappeared in a flash of flames.
Christopher panted harshly, head down, eyes wide as he stared at the floor. It couldn't be, he couldn't have lost. He cursed himself silently. He should have known better...he'd put too much space between him and the boy, given Hunter just enough time to chant the boy into their plane of existence. He'd never suspected Hunter would go that route, assuming his old adversary would instead lure the boy into making the choice to join him on his own. And now what? He shut his eyes, lifting his head to look around as if the answer would appear to him amidst the strobing lights and half-naked humans. No such luck.
He felt the summons...the Others would, of course, know exactly what had just happened. But, uncharacteristically, Christopher ignored it, unwilling to return to face the wrath he knew waited for him for his failure. No...he could fix this. He could get the boy back. He inhaled sharply. He had to, there was no other choice.
***********************
"Milord...your chain mail, milord..." the boy, no more than 11 summers at most, hovered at Hunter's elbow. "Milord?"
Snapping from his daze, Hunter glared down at the lad. He had blue eyes...not the glowing, sky-blue of Christopher, but a watery impersonation. The fear in them, however...the fear was the same.
Snatching the heavily-linked tunic from the boy's hands, he slipped it over his head, shaking back his long, wavy dark blonde hair as he adjusted the protection over his wide chest and shoulders. Noticing that the boy still hovered, Hunter narrowed his eyes and waved him away sharply, snorting as the lad scurried from the tent in a rush of tripping feet.
Hunter laced his boots tightly up strong, thickly muscled calves, grabbing up his broadsword. He could hear the battle raging just outside and felt the blood pump in his veins in anticipation. This was what he needed, a good fight, to send a hundred or more of the Scots rebels to their maker. The time to brood and mourn the loss of his lover was long past.
Normally, he wouldn't even be in the fray of this battle...it was a minor one at best, something usually left to the infantry and not requiring the presence or risk of their captain. But Hunter had a bloodlust that needed to be vented and had allowed no discourse with his men over his own involvement...let the Scots bastards feel the brunt of his inner demons.
Forgoing the helmet that lay on the ground, for it obscured his vision and did more harm than good usually, Hunter swept back the flap on the tent, stepping out into the early morning air, already thick and heavy with the stench of blood and death from the battle ongoing a mere hundred yards to his left. He swung one leg up with a grace that belied his great size, gripping the reins and swinging the big black stallion around sharply, heels kicking back and he felt his blood surge even as the beast beneath him surged forward.
It was a primal roar he bellowed as he charged into the heart of it, sword held aloft and his demons nipping at his heels.
********************
"What's going on?? Where am I? Who are you?" The boy's voice trembled as he cowered against the jagged rock wall, pressed back as far as he could and staring in a combination of shock and fear at the huge man (was he a man? Jeffrey wondered) before him.
Hunter ignored the questions, the only indication he'd heard Jeff at all was a quick, icy glare he shot him before returning to ignoring him.
Jeff tried to tamp down his fear enough to take in his surroundings, hoping against hope to find a way out of whatever this mess was he'd found his way into. He was in what appeared to be a cave, or a series of caves rather, dark, lit by old-fashioned torches burning in sconces along the walls, giving off enough light to cast eerie shadows but not enough to actually make the cave bright. He could see three openings, tunnels he assumed, leading to other caves in the maze, and his heart sank...there was little chance of navigating the labyrinth on his own, even should he get the chance to run.
Jeff briefly thought of that movie, the one with David Bowie as a goblin king, and wished for his own troll-like person to guide him out, like the girl had. It was a silly thought, but despite the fear, this *was* a rather odd situation...he almost convinced himself it was simply a bad trip on the cheap drugs from the rave.
Hunter glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, smirking. "No, boy, don't blame the drugs on this one. You might have fried a synapse or two or a hundred, but this is very real, don't think otherwise."
Jeff sucked in his breath, emerald eyes wide. This...this *thing* could read minds??
Hunter snorted derisively, turning and advancing on Jeffrey until he stood towering over him, mere inches away. "I can do more than *read* your mind, boy. I could turn it into a puddle of goo oozing from your ears with a mere thought." He grinned wickedly at the rising terror in Jeff's eyes.
"But we aren't going to do that, are we, Hunter?"
Hunter turned his head at the sound of the other voice, jaw tightening as a tall, robed figure entered the chamber, standing deep in the shadows.
Jeff stared at this new presence, feeling goosebumps raise on his arms at the pervading sense of evil that had come with it, whatever it was. He somehow knew human was *not* it.
Hunter looked down at Jeff for a second, then stepped back, head dipping in a reluctant show of respect to the other. "No, we are not."
Silence reigned for several long moments and Jeff could feel, though not see, eyes on him, and the goosebumps grew under the dark, heavy hand of that gaze from the shadows.
Finally, the other spoke. "Do you know what you are, Jeffrey? Do you know what *we* are?"
Jeff frowned, glancing to Hunter, who simply stared at him with those cold, hard eyes. "N..no..."
A sinister chuckle that lacked anything resembling humor. "I thought not. You, Jeffrey, are the Promised One. And we, well, I suppose you could call us the Promise Keepers." Another chuckle and Hunter smirked at the use of the term, common among the humans of a certain religious order.
Jeff couldn't hide the confusion, fear pushed aside for a moment as he turned that statement over in his spinning mind. "The...the Promised One? What the hell is that?"
The other chuckled again. "What the *hell* indeed."
**************************
Hunter lay on the cold, blood-soaked ground, staring up at the obscenely bright blue of the sky, a shaky smile curling his paling lips as he thought how closely the blue was to his Christopher's beautiful eyes. He sighed, breath rattling in his chest. Soon....it appeared he'd be seeing his little liar sooner than he'd thought, and he couldn't find it in him to be angry or scared or anything but...well, happy was the word.
There wasn't even any pain, which surprised him. Glancing down, he saw the battle-axe that protruded from his chest, the razor edge having cut through his chain mail like butter, buried deep between his ribs. The battle raged on around him, no one had noticed he'd fallen yet...he wondered if they would before it was too late. He really should have a priest say some words before he died.
The random thoughts suddenly fled his cloudy mind as, just on the edge of his vision, a movement caught his attention and, with great difficulty, he turned his head slightly, eyes widening in shock and awe.
"C...Christopher..." he whispered, hushed, awed, stunned.
Christopher stood over him now, all in white, robes flowing around him, hair loose and shining with an inner light, eyes bright and bluer than the sky above him. A small smile curved the pink, lush lips that had haunted Hunter's dreams in the months since his death. "Hello, Hunter."
Hunter swallowed, licking his lips, blinking hard as if the apparition would disappear. It didn't, and he sighed heavily, a smile curving his own mouth as Christopher knealt beside him, a hand soft and gentle on Hunter's head, pushing back the tangled length of blood-streaked hair. "I'm dy..dying..."
Christopher nodded. "Yes." his smile faltered then, and he looked up briefly, then back down at Hunter, urgency in his brilliant eyes. "Hunter...please...they're coming."
Hunter took another shallow, rattling breath, coughing as blood filled his mouth. "W..who?"
Christopher shook his head, platinum and golden hair flying around his shoulders. "No time...you have to do something for me, Hunter, you have to ask my forgiveness."
Hunter frowned. "Wh..what? D...don't I have to...to ask the Ch..Christian god's fo..forgiveness?"
Christopher shook his head. "No. No, just mine. Please, Hunter, trust me..."
Trust. The word clawed at Hunter's foggy mind, and he narrowed his eyes. "Trust...you? You l..lied to me...you lied.."
Christopher's eyes shadowed, sadness lining his beautiful features. "No, no I didn't, Hunter." He looked up again and this time Hunter followed his gaze, seeing several distant white lights above him. Then, a few yards off, from the ground, two dark shadows began to rise. Christopher saw them and fear filled his voice.
"Please! Hunter please, before it's too late...I gave you my forgiveness but you have to ask it of me!"
Hunter closed his eyes briefly, then opened them to stare at Christopher, who was becoming strangely fuzzy around the edges as darkness closed in. "N...no." He didn't know why he was being so stubborn...hadn't he screamed to the gods that he'd give anything, do anything, for one more day with his Christopher? Still...the only thing he could think at the moment was of that fateful day, coming back to his keep from a raid, the need to see Christopher foremost in his mind and then...walking in to see that gorgeous silvery gold hair wrapped in a fist that wasn't Hunter's, another man bent low over that sleek body, another man's mouth on the sweet, pale flesh of Christopher's throat. The furious pain was as fresh as the very moment he'd stumbled upon that scene.
"NO!" he snarled, fresh anger filling him as more blood rose in his mouth, choking his words, spilling from his lips. Hunter saw three ethereal beings appear behind Christopher, saw two darker, shadowed being appear on his other side. He knew...knew what they were, all of them, knew that he had no more time, and knew by the pure sorrow on Christopher's face that he'd made the wrong choice.
Too late now...Christopher and the other's faded away, unshed tears glinting in his little liar's beautiful eyes as he disappeared into a mist of light and Hunter cried out in anguish as blackness overtook his vision and, ultimately, his soul.
