By JF Jackson & Darqstar
Part Twelve
A half grin played across Remy's lips as he joined Logan at the table for the second half of Rhiannon's show. As he sat down, he noticed Logan had managed to get a couple more beers.
Logan looked over at him, his gaze moving over him, checking him out carefully. "One o'these is yours," he commented, motioning to the beers.
"T'anks." Remy picked up the bottle closest to him and took a long drink.
"I thought you were gonna talk t'Rhiannon," Logan said, one brow raised, grinning slightly.
"We did talk," Remy protested, reaching for his cigarettes. He had left them when he went back stage and he really needed one now.
"Sure ya did." Logan smirked. "You think she's a bit more relaxed now?"
Remy shrugged, still not willing to admit to what Logan was accusing him of, even if it was the truth. "She seem pretty calm when I left. We'll see if it helps."
"Nothin' like a quickie t'make someone's mood do a 180."
"I guess." Remy leaned back in his chair and lit the cigarette. Part of him was trying to grasp on what had happened. He had gone back to say hello and talk with her a bit, and ended up having sex and agreeing that they should only see each other, romantically. He was not disappointed with how things had turned out, but he was surprised.
The second half of Rhiannon's show was not quite as angry. She still sang emotional songs and still poured her heart and soul into them, but her choice of music was not so violent as it had been in the first half. She avoided looking over at Remy and Logan, but Remy had the feeling she was afraid if she did, she would be unable to stop looking at him.
When she finished, she thanked the audience and advised everyone to drive safely. She disappeared behind stage.
The lights came on in the bar and people began finishing their drinks and preparing to leave. "You gonna stick around and spend some time with her?" Logan asked.
Remy nodded. "Mebe we'll go grab somet'in t'eat. Want to tag along?"
"Nah, I don't wanna feel like a third wheel."
"You won' be," Remy assured him. "She like you, remember? Hell, you known her longer dan I have."
"Yeah, but I ain't sleepin' with her, you are," Logan said, standing up and putting on his jacket. "And you know what they say, two's company three's a crowd. Nah, I'll get t'gether with the kid another time. Tell her I said hi and I'll see ya tomorrow."
"All right." He nodded. "T'anks for coming along tonight."
"Thanks for letting me," Logan said. He turned and mingled in with the crowd that was leaving.
It did not take long for the bar to empty out. While the bartender and the waitresses went around encouraging people to leave, no one disturbed Remy. A waitress started towards him at one point, but one of the goons from the backstage door intercepted her and said something to her. She stopped, turned, and headed away from him. Rhiannon must've told dem I could stay, he thought.
When the bar was completely empty of customers, Rhiannon came from backstage. "Hello," she said softly. "Can I join you?"
He looked up and smiled. She was wearing the same outfit she had been wearing when she walked in that night, except for the baseball cap. "Please do."
She sat down in the chair Logan had used. "Is Logan still here?"
"Non, he left."
"That's too bad. I would have liked to say hello." She looked at the bottle he was holding, seeing it was empty. "Want another beer?"
"De place is closed," he said, puzzled.
"Not for me it isn't," she said, grinning.
"Non, I'm all set."
"Well, I want one." She signaled one of the waitresses who went to the bar and returned almost immediately with a bottle of Beck's Dark. She put it down in front of Rhiannon without a word and walked away.
"Wow, she even knew what you wanted," Remy observed, smiling.
Rhiannon chuckled. "I like Beck's Dark. It's what I always drink after a show. Usually the band and I have a few drinks and unwind while they clean the place for close." The motioned towards the band, who was filing out and sitting at another table.
"Did you want to sit wit' dem?" Remy asked.
"No," she shook her head. "I'd rather sit with you."
He smiled.
They stayed in the bar another half-hour. In that half-hour, Rhiannon drank down five beers. Remy had a cup of coffee; he had to drive. "Can you get drunk?" he asked her.
She looked at him. "Yeah, of course I can get drunk. I'm half alive."
"Den be careful. Don' want you to get too plastered."
She shrugged. "I'm feeling very mellow right now, I'm not drunk." She giggled. "Wanna leave?"
"Sure." He had a feeling she was not being completely honest about how she was feeling, especially when she got up from the table.
For a moment she stood there, her upper body swaying slightly. Then she shook her head. "Wow, head rush."
He chuckled. "You okay, Rhian?"
"I'm fine," she said, dragging the words out only a little. "The voices are quieter "
"Voices?"
She nodded. The jukebox was playing an old disco tune and she swayed along with it, not even aware she was doing it. "The voices in my head "
"Do you always hear voices in your head?" he asked, concerned.
"Not always, but during a full moon they k'n get baaad."
Part of her problem, I guess, he thought. "Uhm.. what do these voices tell you?"
She grinned, still moving with the music. "Well, they don't tell me to kill you, if that's what you're worried 'bout. Mostly they tell me how useless I am, how I would be better off dead.
He was about to comment to that, when she started spinning around, dancing, and singing in a slurred voice. "J-J-Jive talking, you're tellin' me lies Hey, Remy, why did people hate disco? It's such great dance music."
"I don' know, Chere," he said, trying not to laugh. "Mebe people didn' want to dance."
"Stupid people. You like to dance?"
"Sometimes," he admitted.
She moved over to him, putting her hands on his shoulders. "I'll bet you're a hell of a dancer. You've got the moooves."
"I'm okay."
"You're modest." She grinned. "I mean, you move with the grace of a panther in the sack. Usually when someone is awesome in bed, it means they're great on the dance floor."
She said the last part loud enough so the other members of the band and the bartender could hear her clearly. He flushed, feeling his face turning bright red. While he was not ashamed that Rhiannon thought he was great when it came to sex, but he was not sure he wanted her announcing it to anyone and everyone. "Uh, mebe we ought't leave, Rhian."
"Okie-Dokey," she said, nodding. She pulled the Pawtucket Redsox ball cap out of her back pocket and put it on her head, the bill off to the side. "Les'go."
He lead her outside, over to his bike. "Did you wan' t'go get somet'in to eat?" he asked. Maybe a little food would sober her up.
"No." She shook her head. "You fed me jus' fine during the break. Unless you wanted me to kneel for a meal in this parking lot."
"Huh?"
Her fingers curled so she looked like she was holding something in her hand, which she brought up to her mouth and moved up and down in front of it, pressing her tongue into her cheek.
He blushed again. "Non, Rhiannon, dat wasn' what I meant. I was talking real food, like de diner."
"Oh!" She nodded, as if finally understanding. "Like where we went the night we met. Nah, I don't feel like that either. Let's go to my place. If you're hungry we can get somethin' t'eat there."
"All right." He studied her. "Are you gonna be able to hang on, Chere? I don' want you fallin' off de bike."
"I can hang on just fine," she said, her brows furrowing. "I'm not drunk."
"Sure you not." He sat on the bike. She climbed on behind him. "Put your arms around my waist, tightly." She did as he asked, but then moved one hand down so it was covering his crotch. He took her hand and moved it away. "My waist, Rhian."
She giggled. "Can't handle the distraction?"
He rolled his eyes and started the bike. Well, if not'ing else, I learn dat half vampires can get jus' as drunk as mortals, he thought.
They took off out of the parking lot. Remy was relieved to find that despite Rhiannon's obviously inebriated state, she had enough coordination to hold on and move with him on the bike. The last time he had taken a drunk person as a passenger, they had tried to fight the turns.
They were heading down a side street that lead to one of the main roads when he looked in the rear view mirror and saw three other bikes behind them. Since it was three a.m. and otherwise the street was deserted, that made him curious.
"The voices are gaining!" Rhiannon suddenly announced, screaming into his ear to be heard above the wind rushing past them.
"Huh?"
The three bikes suddenly moved forward, one on either side of him, another right behind him. He had no clue as to what was going on, but he had the feeling it was not good. Twisting the accelerator, he put on some speed, trying to get away from them. They kept up easily. He could feel Rhiannon's grip around his waist tightening, her chest pressing into his back. Somet'in goin' on here, and I 'ave a feelin' Rhian knows exactly what it is. He moved into a turn, the two bikes on either side of him moving closer.
Coming up ahead on the road was another bike. This one was parked across the road, kickstand down, someone leaning on it. Remy's eyes widened, as he rapidly calculated in his head if he could get around it. The answer was no, not without hitting one of the bikes to either side of him. "Shit!" He slammed on the breaks, causing the back tire to skid. Putting his foot down, he braced himself and Rhiannon, gaining control of the bike. The other three bikes also came to a stop, surrounding him.
"What de hell is goin' on here?" he demanded, looking at the person leaning against the bike that was blocking the road. He looked to be in his mid-thirties with long blond hair. He was wearing a pair of designer jeans and a plain styled leather jacket. The bike he had been leaning on looked to be a fairly new BMW. The bikes to the sides and behind them were modified Harleys that looked to have seen better days. Their riders looked like typical bikers.
The blond man ignored him and looked at Rhiannon instead. He did not say anything, just looked at her. She stared back at him, defiantly.
"Rhiannon, what is goin' on here?" Remy asked.
She slid off the bike. "Since when do the Ventrue need help from the Brujah?" she asked brightly.
The blond continued to stare at her. "Stop it," she snapped. "Your voice sounds awful!"
"What voice?" Remy asked.
"His head voice," Rhiannon said, shaking her head as if amazed she had to explain this. "Remy, these are vampires. I've been hearing their voices in my head all night. And I hate them." She looked back at the blond. "Bug off, asshole, and leave us alone."
"I don't think so, breed."
The blond man's voice was low, pleasant sounding, with a trace of an accent Remy could not quite identify. As he finished his sentence, the bikers on either side of them parked their bikes and got off them, standing there, as if waiting for orders.
"You can always tell when a Brujah is near," Rhiannon remarked, smirking. "They're ugly and their sires dress them funny."
The biker to the left squinted and started coming towards them. The blond snapped his fingers; the biker stopped dead in his tracks. "No blood, for now at least." The blond, the one Rhiannon had called a Ventrue said.
"Damn it, why can't you leave me alone?" Rhiannon said, stomping her foot on the ground angrily. "I don't bother you!"
"Your mortal playmate knows what we are," the Ventrue commented, looking at Remy. "Violation number one."
"So do all his friends," Rhiannon said, shrugging.
"Uh.. Rhiannon, what is going on here?" Remy asked, not taking his eyes off the Ventrue.
"We're going to die," Rhiannon said calmly.
"Non, I don' t'ink so." He reached into his pocket for a card.
In a flash, the blond Ventrue sprang forward and grabbed Rhiannon by the neck. He moved so quickly Remy had not even seen it happen. To him, it was as if one second he was reaching into his pocket, in the next, his hand was frozen and he was looking over, watching Rhiannon getting lifted off the ground by the neck.
"Keep your hands at your sides or I snap her neck," the Ventrue said, his voice still pleasant, as if discussing stock options with a business associate, rather than threatening the life of Remy's girlfriend. "She's half mortal, snapping her neck will kill her," he added.
Remy moved his hands down to his sides. "Let her go," he said, eyes flashing dangerously.
"Now, why would I wish to do that?" the Ventrue asked, looking at Rhiannon. She was standing on tiptoes; her hands reaching around to his arm, trying to pull away the hand that was clutching her neck. The Ventrue had long fingers that reached almost completely around her neck. "Having some trouble, breed?"
"L-leave him alone, Bryan," she said, gasping. "This isn't his problem."
"Ah, but he's with you," Bryan said. "That makes him our problem."
"He's a mutant, he keeps his own masquerade." Her face was growing red, the skin around his fingers getting darker and darker, turning blue. "I'm the one you want. Leave him alone and I'll go with you, I p-p-promise." The last part was pushed out of her mouth, ending in a gasping noise. It was not the lack of air; it was the pressure that was bothering her. She could feel the bones and muscles of her neck squeezing together, pressing on her vocal cords.
Remy felt trapped. The left, right, and rear biker were slowly moving closer to him. Bryan was keeping a heavy eye on him, any movement he thought threatening and he would snap Rhiannon's neck. Remy knew that as certain as he knew his own name. It had been a long time since Remy felt completely helpless, and it was a feeling he did not like. "Let her go," he pleaded, feeling stupid, even as he said it. Like dat's gonna do any good. But it was the only thing he could think of.
"Tell me, mortal, is she a good piece of ass?" Bryan asked, lifting her a bit more. Now she was barely able to touch the ground with the tips of her toes. Her hands worked harder to pull his fingers off her throat, but it apparently did not matter to Bryan. "Is she worth your life?"
"What she ever do to you?" Remy asked, swallowing. It seemed stupid to be talking like this, but as long as they were talking, it meant Bryan was not killing her.
"She exists, that's enough," Bryan answered with a small shrug. "She's a breed. Half human, half vampire. She's an abomination and it's high time she was destroyed."
Remy looked at Rhiannon, who had stopped speaking. Go! her eyes were saying. Forget about me and do whatever you can to get out of here!
He shook his head. Non, I won' just abandon you!
He caught something out of the corner of his eye, coming out of the woods, behind Bryan. At first all he saw was a flash of fur, then his brain registered it as some sort of dog. Before he could wonder what the dog was doing here, it was right behind Bryan. Then it was leaping on top of Bryan, from behind, shoving him to the ground. Shocked, Bryan's fingers loosened themselves from Rhiannon's neck. She twisted away, falling to the ground herself. Not wasting a moment, she rolled further away. The right biker was on top of her in a second.
Remy started forward to help, but the left and rear biker stopped him. Angry at this whole situation, he grabbed onto both of them, by their jackets and began charging them. There was a spectacular explosion and it seemed like both bikers almost disintegrated. The force from the blast sent Remy crashing into his bike. The bike fell over, Remy on top. He hit his head on the road, hard. Merde!
Blackness threatened to engulf him but he fought it off. He scrambled to his feet, disentangling himself from his bike and looked over at Rhiannon. She was fighting with the last biker. Both of their eyes were red, fangs extended. Rhiannon, however, seemed to be barely holding her own. Blood dripped from her nose and both eyes were swollen. She was still on her feet, but it did not look as if she could stay that way for long.
He started towards them, feeling his eyes shifting in and out of focus. He paused for a moment, looking over at the wolf and Bryan. The wolf was gone. In his place was a naked man, holding Bryan up by his neck in a similar fashion to how Bryan had held Rhiannon, minutes before. The naked man glared over at Rhiannon and the biker, eyes glowing. He stared at the both of them.
"Do what he says!" Bryan gasped.
They stopped fighting. Rhiannon looked over at the naked man and shook her head. "Took you long enough!" Her nose was so swollen that the words came out sounding like, "Toop ooo ong enough!" She coughed, spitting a bloody wad of mucus onto the ground.
Remy was starting to wonder who had too much to drink that night. 'Ave I been hallucinating this whole t'ing? The bump on his head and other minor damage from the exploding vampires felt real enough.
"Stealf ays don' mofe!" Rhiannon called out to him.
It took him a moment, but he got the sentence and the idea. He was being asked not to move. He tried to follow that advice, and with the exception of swaying a bit, he felt he did pretty good. If he tried for Rhiannon, he had a feeling the biker would lunge him and the whole mess would begin again. De naked man-wolf must be Stealf Stealth!
Stealth suddenly threw Bryan forward as if he weighed no more than a tennis ball. He sailed over the bikes, landing in the road. Then he looked over at the biker, his eyes narrowed into red slits.
"You don't scare me, Wolf Boy!" The biker snarled.
"He thould," Rhiannon warned.
Stealth merely continued to stare. Suddenly the biker began to shake, falling to his knees. "Don't hurt me," he cried out, "I'll never touch her again, just stop it!"
"New bud," Rhiannon remarked, wiping her nose. "Ow, dab hurt!"
Remy felt like his brain was whirling. Part of him wanted to go to Rhiannon, part of him did not want to move too much and risk pissing this Stealth off. He was 99% sure Stealth was on their side. However, when dealing with a naked man who could throw people around like paperclips and reduce others to babbling, crying idiots with no more than a look, Remy figured it would be best to be cautious.
Bryan rose to his feet, slowly. "This isn't over, Gangrel," he said, looking at Stealth. "Under your protection or not, she should not be allowed to exist."
Stealth took his gaze off the biker, who by now was huddled, in a small ball, whimpering helplessly. So much for Mr. Tough guy, Remy thought. Stealth walked looked over at Bryan, just staring at him.
"You have managed to get around our rules because you kept to yourself, Stealth," Bryan continued.
"He'th managed to avoid your tyrany becath he'th bore powerfuwl dan 'oo ever be!" Rhiannon snapped.
Bryan ignored her. "But now you push the limit. The breed is supposed to be dead."
"I'm aweady 'alf dere!" Rhiannon chorused. Then she fell to her knees, coughing. Remy could not continue to watch he had to go to her. He started towards her.
Stealth rolled his eyes, looking at Bryan. Then he looked back at the biker. The biker slowly rose to his feet, not taking his eyes off Stealth.
"Two of our kind have been destroyed!" Bryan shouted.
Stealth shrugged and brought up his middle finger, sending a message that even Remy could understand, of his personal feelings about the death of the other two bikers.
Remy made it over to Rhiannon. "Are you all right, Rhian?" he asked, kneeling down in front of her.
"I'b fine," she told him.
He knew she was lying. "Can you walk?"
"I tole oo, I'b fine!" she repeated, struggling to her feet. He put his arm around her, steadying her and helping her up. She staggered. His own head felt like it was being used as a ball in some cosmic croquet game, but he forced himself to ignore it, and concentrated on Rhiannon instead. "I don' feel so good," she declared. If Remy had not been holding her, she would have pitched face-first into the street. He put his arms around her, scooping her up as if she were nothing but a small child.
"Mebe dis be safer."
She started to protest, then relaxed, leaning her head on his chest. "I feew like thit."
Bryan and the biker decided to leave. When they had driven away, leaving the two bikes from the deceased vampires, Stealth walked over to Remy's bike and picked it up easily. Then he walked over to them, looking at Remy.
Remy looked back, not knowing quite what he should do. "Uh, t'anks."
Stealth shrugged, looking at Rhiannon. He reached out and touched her nose gently. She opened her eyes and batted at his hand. He looked at Remy, brows furrowed as she shut her eyes again.
"You wan' to borrow my coat?" Remy asked.
Stealth looked down at himself as if noticing for the first time that he was naked.
"Please, let him do it," Rhiannon murmured. "No one wants to see oor naked ath."
Stealth shrugged and held out his arms. Remy wondered for a moment how they were going to manage this exchange, and then he realized what Stealth was suggesting was that he hold Rhiannon while Remy took off the coat. He handed Rhiannon over. Stealth took her, holding her gently. Remy shrugged out of his coat and put it on the seat of one of the now abandoned bikes. Then he let Stealth give Rhiannon back.
Stealth picked up Remy's trench coat and sniffed it. He looked at Remy, making a face, then slipped into the coat.
"It don' smell 'dat bad," Remy muttered. "I had it cleaned last month."
"Can we go 'ome?" Rhiannon asked, trying to open her eyes. It was difficult, because the lids were almost swollen shut. "I don' feels so goob."
Now all that was left was trying to figure out how to get her back to the cabin.
End of Part Twelve.
Author's Notes:
Why is Darqstar listed as co-writer? Well, I shall be honest here. I really stink at writing action scenes. I hate them. So, I decided to ask for help. As it would turn out, Darqstar hates action scenes too. She professes to stink at them herself.
So of course the only logical thing to do is to take both our crummy abilities and combine them. Makes sense to me. I regularly believe the blind should lead the blind.
But at least I managed to accomplish something in this section: Remy now knows of Stealth's existence! But does he know that Stealth wouldn't mind having a go at him himself?