Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“What about that one?” Vincent asked, his voice low enough for Will to be the only one who would hear them over the deep thrum of the bass. The club around them moved in disjointed undulation as the strobe light flashed purple then blue then white. 

Will squinted, and Vincent thought about commenting on his advanced age, “Which, dear one? You must be more specific for me this evening. There are so many.” 

Without being too obvious, Vincent nodded towards one of the bodies nearest where they perched against the balcony’s metal railing. 

“No, you are only thinking in short sight. Find somebody good. Somebody who oozes obedience.” 

The song bled into something faster and the ripe sweetness of sweat rose up to his nose. Something was sweeter underneath it, something warm and pulsing and thick. His head snapped to Will, “Which one of them is that?”

For a moment, his maker was quiet, calculating, and then he lifted his face towards the far back corner of the room, “A blister, nothing more.” 

“If a blister smells like that then I want the whole thing.” 

“Go get them, then, dear one. Do try your best to bring them home this time.” 

A shiver raced up the back of his neck as Vincent inclined his head to Will. He thought about talking back, about explaining how the last one he’d tried to coax into the alley was stronger-willed than he’d ever encountered before, but excuses would most likely only end up bringing more pain upon him than had already been inflicted. 

“Yes, sir.” 

Hunting in the dance clubs made the first part of his job very easy. Moving through the bodies one flash of light at a time felt like he was perhaps dancing, too, or sliding. Some bodies pressed in closer to his than others, drawn in by the way his own form accommodated theirs on his way to the scent. It was stronger in the crowd, urging and calling him along as he caught a body between his palms and traded places with them. For the briefest moment, he moved with them, rolling his hips in time with theirs, until more space opened for him to step into, closer and closer to what he needed. 

Through the bend of an elbow, he caught sight of them at last. It was barely a flash of a flushed, pinched face and then they were lost again as the bodies moved, jerky and loose as they were. He could taste them, the tang fanning out from the back of his throat across his tongue as venom and saliva alike trapped it there behind his teeth. It possessed him, filling every empty space in his body with its potency. He could take them, he reasoned, somewhere deeper and darker and drain them. Sure, he would show up at home emptyhanded, but he knew he would be satiated to the fullest extent. The beating he would incur would feel like feathers as the sticky saccharine blood worked through him, strengthening and devouring him from the inside. It would be divine, he knew, having them. 

Yet, when he paused in front of them, feeling the heat pulsing off of them and the soft, full puffs of air that left their mouth as they half bent forward, he found that his thoughts moved only to picturing them at home, their body curling and moving on stage while they offered their wrist to any passing guest. The thought of that made his stomach go sour and he ruffled a bit at it. Could he share them? Was he suddenly alright with someone, anyone else having a single sip of them? 

“Hey, are you alright?” His voice was loud this time, shouting over the thrum. This was a human, after all. Their delicate eardrums were so bad at discerning subtleties. 

They twisted, and then were sick into a garbage can he hadn’t noticed. If he’d needed any amount of turnoff before, he got it then. They’d had a sorry excuse of a meal and now their body would get none of the minimal nutrients it held. 

He caught their shoulder and smoothed a palm over their forehead, “Too much to drink?”

“Yeah.” Even their voice made him lose himself. He could still drain them. It would be too easy in the dark club. 

Their fingers closed around his wrist, but they didn’t throw him away or draw him in. Through their skin, he could feel their bones and tendons shivering. 

“Do you want to get some fresh air?”

“With you?”

“I don’t mind giving you a hand.” 

They looked at him, then, their eyes wide and clear despite the smear of vomit still in the corner of their mouth. Even though the alcohol on their breath was sharp and cold, he got a mouthful of wherever they were bleeding. Their ankle, maybe, considering the shoes they wore looked new. 

“My feet hurt.” 

“I can carry you.” 

They sputtered out a laugh, one that was both very drunk and very humorless, “That’s embarrassing. Somebody will think something’s wrong.” 

“You just threw up in a garbage can and you’re really drunk. Better me than somebody who might hurt you.” 

Adorably, they raised an eyebrow, “You’re not going to hurt me?”

“I would never.” 

Then, as easy as lifting his own finger, Vincent tipped their head up and brushed his thumb against the corner of their mouth, “It’s cool outside. We can have a cigarette and then you can come back and dance more.” 

“I’d like that.” 

“I know. Come on, little one.” He hitched their arm up over his neck and knocked their hips together as he half carried them towards the side door. It wasn’t a long walk and their promising sweetness made him feel light. Having their warm pressing in all around him was almost as intoxicating. Who needed human drugs when they themselves were so heady? 

The blast of cold air washed it away, though, and he glanced down to find that they were quite unremarkable. If not for their scent, he never would have picked them out of the crowd. Their face was plain, simple, and smooth. Nothing about them stood out. They could be anybody. Vincent knew better than to judge a human on their looks, especially one who smelled the way this one did. They had many little ones back at home who were similar. Though, if he was honest with himself, none of them had captured him the way this one had. He felt hooked on them and it had only been ten minutes. 

“It’s freezing out here,” they said, shivering already. He tucked his arm around them tighter and tried to block the wind with his body as he spun them sideways. 

“I didn’t know it was going to be windy.” 

“Alleys are windy.” 

He smiled delicately, “Yes, I suppose they usually are. I don’t really do this often.” 

“Help people?”

“Right.” 

They returned his smile even though they hesitated for half a second, “Uh, you said something about cigarettes?”

He produced the pack from his back pocket. Humans were so easy to entice. Little baggies of white powders, green plants, more alcohol, tobacco. He had it all, of course, whatever it took to bring them out. Even empowered humans had the same vices despite their poor attempts at appearing better than. Vincent knew, though, that all it would take was a little flash of what he had to offer and that would do it. 

This one was easier, though, and from the way they kept looking at him, he knew that they would go wherever he asked them to go. He could redeem himself in Will’s eyes, especially with the value this one brought. 

“Thanks,” they said, taking the cigarette but not holding it to their lips, “Lighter?”

He produced that, too, lit their cigarette then leaned against the side of the building. The wind was barely a breath on his bare neck. 

“Are you not cold?”

“I don’t really get cold,” he said softly. Watching the way their lips pursed around the cigarette as they took a long drag did dangerous things to his mind the way their blood had mere moments before. 

“Do you need something for your blister?” 

They looked at their shoes and kicked the toe of one into the cement, “Uh, maybe. I don’t think it’s that bad.” 

“You’re bleeding.” 

“You can tell I’m bleeding?” Their eyes turned up to him again. The moment was too good to resist, too perfect to deny himself the rush of power as his magic warmed his face. Their eyes went blank. The cigarette dropped, forgotten, as their mind sank into the bobbing float of his trance. Will would be so, so pleased with him.

Chapter Text

Just as he’d thought, moving the human was effortless. They were so willing, so soft and compliant with everything he asked of them. When he offered his hand to help them up into the tall SUV, they took it and said thank-you and I feel safe with you. He swore that by the time they were home, his head would explode from their praise. 

Upon arriving, they turned their big eyes up to him and asked, “Where are we?”

“Home,” he said simply. 

“I live in an apartment, though.” 

“Not anymore, little one, you live here with me.” 

A smile warmed their expression and their eyes twinkled with joy, “I don’t want to be away from you.” 

“I don’t want you to be away from me, either.” 

They blinked a couple of times, eyes still otherwise empty of their own thoughts, and they asked, “Can I hold your hand?”

“Of course, you can hold my hand.” 

It felt like their skin was on fire. Vincent scowled at this. Sure, humans were warm to him, but not this warm. 

“Are you unwell?” he asked. 

“I get fevers,” they answered, “when I drink.” 

“What makes you better? What cures this?” he asked, hunting through their expression as if the answer would appear, inked in their skin. 

“Rest. Having water.” 

“We will do both, then, before you are presented to Will. There’s no way I’m taking you to him like this, he’ll be furious with me.” 

Their expression pinched as it had in the club, “I don’t want to get you in trouble. Is it okay that I’m here with you?”

“Yes, little one,” he cooed, “I’ll make sure you’re taken care of.” 

The driver locked eyes with Vincent through the open driver’s side window, “What on earth are you thinking with this one?”

“Mind your own business,” he snarled, showing fang while the little human swayed at his side. They showed no sign of noticing that he’d raised his voice and he was relieved by the power of his own trance on them. There was no reason to scare them. The blood was always sweeter when they were calm and relaxed. 

It took him years to perfect the trance he put their little ones under, years to develop the exact right amount of magic to make them pliable and comfortable without taking away too much of themselves. It was rare that anyone fought it, and he knew this one would be easy. 

“Let’s get you inside,” he said, keeping his tone low as he scooped them up into his arms and darted through the front door. 

The floor was crawling with patrons and humans alike. Fast-paced music was just loud enough to fill the space without being uncomfortable for their guests. He was pleased to see the humans tending to the patrons so thoroughly, their wrists and necks bared openly. All of them were so well-behaved, even when he wasn’t there to watch them work. At some point, they would need a reward, but he was sure Alexis or Sam would be happy to figure out what to get them all. The last reward they’d all gotten was a gracious night off in which the staff had been the ones to be entertained. Why the humans liked reality television so much, he didn’t understand, but it made them all happy regardless and Will was impressed with their care of the little ones, so really the reason didn’t matter. 

The one in his arms didn’t say anything as they moved through the room towards the back. They rested their head into the crook of his neck and let out a slow sigh. Their forehead was burning up against his skin, and he moved a bit faster. If they were sick, he would need to get Sam involved as quickly as possible, and, given the time of night, he knew Sam would not be close by. 

“I feel like shit,” they whimpered as he pushed through the double set of doors that led away from the working floor. He took them to the kitchen first, for water, and, once they had a chilled bottle in their lap, up to his office. There was a comfortable couch there, and he’d be able to keep an eye on them without anyone else bothering them. 

“I know, little one, I’ll get you more comfortable in just a minute.” 

They whimpered again as he set them down, and he touched their forehead once more to gauge their temperature. It had most definitely risen. 

“Can you drink some water for me?” 

“I think I’ll be sick again,” they said, wincing, “but I can try.” 

It was a valiant effort on their part, of course, something that made him puff up with pride, but then, as they’d said, a few minutes passed and they turned green. Vincent was fast, though, and he managed to slide the trash can that usually sat beside his desk over to them. When they were done, he swiped the hair away from their forehead and helped them lie back. 

“I’m going to call somebody to come fix you,” he said, seeing and hearing the way their pulse raced when he touched them. 

They didn’t respond, and he called Sam without a single moment of hesitation. Wherever he was, he’d have to come back home. 

He had to call twice before Sam answered, and when he did, he said, “What the fuck do you want?”

“I need you to come home. I brought a new recruit home and they’re really sick.” 

Silence. Then, “Where were you lookin’ for recruits, a hospital?”

“No, they have alcohol poisoning.” 

He sighed heavily, “I’m tryin’ to hunt, Vincent. Can’t you just find somebody else?”

“I don’t want anybody else to touch them.” 

“Uh-huh. That sounds completely sane. I’ll be home in an hour. If they die before I get there then there wasn’t anything I could have done anyway.” 

“Sam-.” 

“Bye now.” 

He glared down at his phone as the line went silent. Even though he knew that Sam would return when he said he would, he didn’t know what to do in the meantime. One look at the curled-up human filled him with pity. The poor thing was shivering despite the heat radiating off of them. 

Gently, so as not to startle them, he touched their shoulder, “Hey, are you awake?”

“Barely,” their teeth chattered as they spoke, chopping the word up into pieces. 

“I have somebody coming to help, okay? Can you make it through the next hour?”

They nodded, and curled tighter in on themself, “Can I have a blanket?”

Vincent wanted to smack himself on the forehead. Of course they needed something warmer than their mesh top. He went back downstairs to the sleeping area to hunt for something suitable for them. A few of the other humans were getting ready to go to bed and milled about with toothbrushes in their mouths or were half out of their clothes. 

“I need a blanket, quickly,” he said to the nearest one. They gave him a kind smile and turned to find him one. Vincent watched them, made sure to track their gait and how their arms moved as they walked for any sign of soreness. It was imperative that they be kept in their best possible physical health. Any issues with them would reflect badly on him, and Will’s wrath needed to be avoided. 

“Here you go, sir,” the human said as they came back with a thick, woolen quilt in their arms. 

“Good work. Go to bed now,” he told them before going back to his office. His human was shivering still, and it made him ache seeing them so tightly curled around themself. 

“I’ve brought you something,” he cooed to them as he unfolded the quilt and covered them with it, “you need to tell me if you want anything else.” 

“I need you to sit with me,” they said automatically, their teeth clicking together hard enough for him to cringe. If they hurt their teeth, he’d have no way to fix them. 

Vincent sat, though, in the bend behind their knees, and he leaned over them to look into their face. Even though their eyes were squeezed closed, and their cheeks were ruddy from the fever, they had a certain quality that he’d not noticed before. In the simplicity of their features, he found that he rather liked their face. There was something comforting in the predictability of it. 

“What else?” he asked. 

“This is enough.” 

“Can you stop shaking?”

They shook their head then grimaced as they went green again. When they wretched, though, nothing came up. Strings of saliva dribbled from their lips, but there was nothing else left in them. 

“How long do you stay sick like this?” he asked. 

“A while,” they grunted, finally settling down again. 

“You shouldn’t drink anymore. It makes you very unwell, little one.” 

“I won’t.” 

He petted their hair back from their forehead again and was less than happy to find that sweat was starting to gather there. 

It took Sam almost a full hour and a half to return home, and when he came up to the office, Vincent thought to shout at him, then thought better of it. 

“Well, you look cozy.” 

“Will you just help them, please? They’re really, really sick.” 

Sam took one look at the human and scowled, “Did they drink a gallon of vodka or somethin’?”

“I don’t know, just make them better before Will finds out.” 

At once, Sam turned bright and smug, “Oh-ho, I see. You’re tryin’ to impress the big man. I guess they do smell pretty good.” 

“It’s more than that, okay? I just need them better.” 

Sam rolled his eyes but reached out and dropped the back of his hand against their cheek, then their forehead, “Oh, they’re definitely burnin’ up alright.” 

“Okay, so fix them.” 

“Do you ever shut up?” he asked, looking over his shoulder shrewdly. 

Vincent paced, his arms folded over his chest and his eyes glued to where Sam touched them. It was agitating him, especially since he couldn’t fix them himself. He wrote it off as nerves for what Will would say when he finally presented them to him. 

After a while, Sam stood up and wiped his hands on the front of his jeans. 

“Well?”

“Alcohol poisonin’, like you said. They’ll be fine by tomorrow evenin’.” 

“What do I owe you?”

Sam eyed the human curiously, “Cleanin’ duty this week.” 

“Nothing having to do with them.” Vincent thought that maybe he was coming across as a bit harsh, but he couldn’t explain the feelings that he was experiencing and hoped Sam would just let him be about it. It was difficult enough trying to get Will’s approval and manage the humans downstairs so there really wasn’t room for him to try to figure out anything additional. This human, though, the one who had finally stopped shivering and had nestled into the quilt, captivated him. When they woke, he would need to learn more about them. If he could make this work, he knew that he’d redeem himself. 

“What is with you and this human?”

“I don’t know. Their blood sings to me.” 

Sam raised an eyebrow, “Do you also have alcohol poisonin’?”

“No. I don’t know how to explain it.” 

“Well, stop it. You’re bein’ fuckin’ weird.” 

Vincent watched him leave and then looked back at the huddled form on his couch, pity seeping into him again. They looked so small under the blanket. 

“Are you awake?”

They didn’t answer. The even sound of their breathing eased some of his nerves, as did the quiet rumble that their stomach made. He’d have to feed them as soon as they woke up. Something light, though, broth, perhaps. Some of the humans really liked broth. He supposed they may not be so different from the others downstairs. 

So, Vincent stayed in his office, perched on the edge of the couch near the bend in their knees, and he waited for them to wake. He doubted he would be able to hide them away for long. 

Chapter Text

The air in the small office was tepid and still as their eyes slowly opened. Vincent watched, barely breathing and certainly not moving, as they looked at the ceiling and then, slowly, they turned their head as if they were searching. 

“I’m here,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. At once, their expression smoothed and relaxed. They even let their eyes close once more as they gulped and started to uncurl their body. 

“How do you feel?”

“Like I got hit by a truck.” 

He winced, “Perhaps you should stay there for a while. I planned on bringing you breakfast anyway.” 

They looked at him again, some obscure emotion in their otherwise empty eyes, “Aw, really? That’s really nice of you. Usually, my one night stands don’t do more than toss me a wet washcloth, if you know what I mean.” 

Aghast, Vincent searched their face rapidly, “I wouldn’t-, this isn’t-.” He sputtered for a few seconds before he started shaking his head. 

“I need you to know that nothing physical happened between us. I would never touch you while you were first of all, drunk and second of all, sick.”

They cracked a weak smile, “Ah, so you’re a gentleman after all.” 

“What I told you last night is true: I will never hurt you.” 

To his shock, they met his eyes steadily, more of that emotion bleeding out to where he could see, “What do you call this, then?” 

Cold plunged through the middle of his chest. 

“What do I call what?”

“Bringing me here.” 

A knife made completely of ice stabbed into his throat.

He blinked, “This is home now.” 

“For you, maybe. I know it’s not mine, though.” 

“It is,” he insisted, “I’ve brought you home to stay near me. Remember? You said you didn’t want to be away from me.” 

They looked down at the blanket he’d so lovingly tucked around them and smiled again, though this time it was wiry and wry and all wrong, “I think I remember saying that.” 

“Look at me,” he pushed himself up off of the edge of the couch and dropped to his knees in front of their head. As gently as he could manage in his panicked state, he took their shoulders into his hands and urged them to turn back towards him. 

“Why?”

“Please, little one.” 

They slowly blinked, as if they were starting to fall asleep again, “I think I want more rest, like you said.” 

His fingers found their chin and he turned them himself, and though he knew they wanted to look into his eyes, he felt them resist. 

“Please?”

Obedience won out and they gave him another little smile as they met his eyes. Relief washed the chill from him as his magic wrapped around their mind. 

“That feels better, doesn’t it?”

“Yes,” they sighed, “thank you.” 

He drew the tip of his finger over the arch of their eyebrow, “You’re very welcome. We never introduced ourselves to each other last night, you were too sick. Will you tell me your name?”

“What do you want to call me?”

That was a larger question than he’d expected. Something odd scratched at the back of his mind, some kind of yearning rage that would have made him shudder had he not recognized it so quickly, “Do you ask a lot of people that question?”

“Sometimes,” they said evenly, “not lately.” 

“You said you have a lot of one night stands. Should I know anything else about that?”

They shook their head, “Not lately.” 

“Good,” he said, rolling his neck and shoulders as he tried to force himself to relax, to let go of that rage that kept pounding at the back of his head, “good. I would prefer if you don’t have sex with any of our guests, even if they ask you to. If anybody asks you to, you need to come find me.” 

“I don’t want to have sex with anyone,” they said, stretching again. A bone somewhere in their leg popped and they winced. 

“Are you hurt?” Vincent reached for them and smoothed his hand over the blanket where he thought the sound had come from. 

“Just stiff from laying around.” 

He glanced up at the clock and sighed. They’d be opening soon and that meant Will would most likely come looking for him. It would be difficult to hide them away unless he pretended that he hadn’t been able to bring them back in the first place. No, he thought, it would be better to mostly tell the truth. Of course, Will would know he was lying, but he hoped that maybe if he chose the right lie, it wouldn’t matter as much. 

“Do you want me to bring you that breakfast I mentioned earlier?”

“Yes, please.” 

“It’ll be warm broth so that your stomach doesn’t get upset. Is that alright?”

“Yes, that sounds lovely.” 

He cocked his head, “Lovely, huh?” 

“Mhm.” 

As he looked them over again, he recounted how he’d thought they’d been plain and easy to overlook at first. It seemed ridiculous now, of course, that he’d ever written them off in the looks department. 

“Can I call you lovely?”

“You can call me whatever you want.” 

He grinned wide, pleased with them, “I’m Vincent. I’ll bring your breakfast up. Please don’t leave this room.” 

“I have to pee.” 

His grin fell flat. He’d forgotten the bathroom habits of humans were so time sensitive. The ones downstairs were very self-sufficient when it came to their own needs and he didn’t usually hand pick new recruits the way he had with this one. The others typically made the new ones feel at home. 

“Uh, right, okay. I can carry you to the bathroom if you’d like?”

“I don’t want to be away from you.”

That pulled at his heart again as he looked into their open, blank face. Their submission to his magic was a thing of beauty in and of itself, but paired with how fond he was becoming of their physical features it was otherworldly. 

“I won’t be far from you. Can you put your arms around my neck?” 

Vincent did not take them downstairs to the main living area. Instead, he took them up to the third floor and straight into Sam’s apartment. 

“Jesus-do you knock?” Sam snarled as he took little Lovely across the studio to the bathroom. It was widely unused, and Vincent preferred its box shape where he could see the entire room at all times; there were no corners for anyone to hide in. 

“Hm? Oh, no, Lovely needs to use the bathroom and I’m not taking them downstairs for obvious reasons.” 

“I’m in the middle of something, Vincent. Or have you gone blind?”

A pillow slammed into his back as he set Lovely down on their feet. They swayed for a moment, but caught the edge of the sink and then worked the skin-tight trousers down their legs as they turned away from him. 

“Yeah, I don’t really care what you’re doing.” 

“Or who he’s doing?”

“Who I’m tryin’ to do.” 

Vincent looked over his shoulder at the new voice and scowled, “Seriously, the mutt again, Sam? Will’s going to beat your ass.” 

The shifter glared right back at him, though the effect was mostly lost due to the fact that their bare legs were hiked up around Sam’s waist. 

“Will doesn’t care about me, remember? You and that blonde bitch are his priority.” 

Vincent winced but he couldn’t really argue with him. For all intents and purposes, Will was their father, and like any father, he wanted them to be the best. Alexis was less invested in being in Will’s good graces, but she also got away with a hell of a lot more than Vincent ever had. He supposed that her being Will’s first progeny probably had something to do with it. 

“I’ll let you get back to whatever freaky shit you two are doing as soon as Lovely’s done.” 

All at once Sam grimaced with disgust, “Don’t tell me you named them.” 

“They asked me to.” 

He turned back in time to lean in to help Lovely get their pants back up. It was obvious that he would need to find something better for them to wear, something more comfortable and less tight. Once they were put back together and washed their hands, he scooped them up into his arms again. 

“See ya.” 

The shifter moaned just as he shut the door behind them. 

“Who was that?” Lovely asked him. 

“My friend, Sam. He made you better last night, do you remember at all?”

“No, Vincent.” 

The smile that immediately warmed his face came over him the second he heard them say his name, “I like when you call me that.” 

“I like my name, too.” 

“You don’t remember much of last night, do you?”

“No.” 

“Do you know how much you’d had to drink? Sam said you had alcohol poisoning.” 

“I’m allergic.” 

He paused just outside his office and scowled at the opposite wall, “You’re allergic to alcohol but you were drinking anyway?”

They nodded, their forehead bumping into the side of his neck, “Yeah.” 

“Why?”

“It was my friend’s birthday. I didn’t want to ruin the mood.” 

Shaking his head, Vincent took them back into his office and set them back down into the blanket nest they’d left there, “Didn’t your friends know you’re allergic?”

“No.” 

“No more drinking. Nobody here should offer you alcohol, but if they do, you have to turn it down. I can’t have you getting sick every night.” 

“Okay.” 

Their eyes were wide as they took in the command. The way his magic clinked around in their head, locking itself around their thoughts and then cementing into place was tangible for him, and in its intensity he felt himself finally relax. He’d covered most of the bases, but they still had time to get them ready for the work downstairs. 

When he thought of it, though, of them on a stage or in a private room, it felt like his chest collapsed on itself. They would have to let guests bite them and Vincent knew that they wouldn’t last long on the floor once it happened. In his mind, he watched them start a full-on frenzy with the sweetness even he hadn’t sampled. His stomach started to churn and he tried to push the panic down. He was supposed to be taking care of them, helping them feel safe, and yet he felt like he was sending them out to be devoured. 

“Are you okay, Vincent?”

Their voice made him jump, “Huh? Oh, yeah, no, I’m fine. I’m just thinking about how hungry you must be.” Lying came easily.

“I am hungry.” 

“I’ll get your breakfast. Don’t leave this room and don’t open the door if anyone knocks.”

“Am I not supposed to be here?” they asked, their eyes going round and worried as they watched him. 

“I just want to keep you safe.” 

“Will somebody hurt me?”

“No. Nobody will hurt you while you’re with me.” 

“I don’t want to be away from you.” 

Vincent smiled grimly, “I’ll be back in two minutes, okay? Get comfortable, I want you to rest more, like we talked about.” 

When he returned, a steaming mug in one hand and a slice of toast in the other, Lovely was tucked into the corner of the couch with the blanket up over their head like a hood. 

“Hey,” he said quietly, bending slightly as he approached them, “I’m back. Do you feel alright?”

Their stomach growled as they opened their mouth to answer. Adorably, they blushed. 

“Somebody knocked.” 

“Oh?”

“A man, I think. He sounded like he’s not from here.” 

Vincent recoiled and tried to manage the shudder that went through him at the thought of Will looking for him, narrowly missing crossing paths with him, “O-Oh. Yeah, that’s just probably Will.” 

“Why do you look scared?”

“Well, I’m not exactly scared of him, but I want to make sure you’re ready before I take you to meet him, that’s all.” 

“Should I be scared of him?”

Vincent thought hard on that as he slowly sat beside them and offered the mug, which they took, “I think you should be careful around him. Will is fair, but he has really high expectations of people.” 

“I can be good.” 

“You’re better than good, Lovely.” You’re my ticket to being his favorite again, he thought.

Chapter Text

Lovely knew something was wrong. Deep down to their bones, they knew. The problem was, though, when they started to focus on the wrongness, their mind turned feverish and thick. It felt much better to try to ignore the feeling and listen to the smooth, velvet voice that seemed to cure whatever ailment they were coming down with. They remembered throwing up, probably more than once, but the voice was so kind to them, so soothing. It felt as if their life had been nothing before the voice, and it would be nothing again if the voice ever stopped.

Vaguely, they knew their body was moving and they supposed that should be horrifying. Something warm passed between their lips, just cool enough to not scald, but they couldn't taste it. There was no sense other than the heat and then nothing. Whatever it was, eased some of the tension that remained in them, whatever stiffness in their body that, even though they couldn't tell where it was originating from, they were half aware of. But then the voice was back and they moved towards it, trying to find it in the dark where their consciousness had settled. Their body twisted, an action that caused no pain or muscle contraction, and they felt the subtle, barely-there pressure of an embrace. 

More warmth moved through them, warmth that chased off the wrongness until they didn't even remember that something was so desperately wrong in the first place. 

It was a strange thing being so inside themself but feeling no panic. There was darkness, yes, but there was not a single ounce of fear. They were safe, that they were certain of for some reason, and it wasn't at all disconcerting when they felt their own hands on their hair, their face, the tops of their thighs. It was normal, suddenly, not seeing or thinking much. This was good. They'd always been told they thought and saw and said too much. It was a bad habit, they'd always told themself. A bad habit that made their life stressful and uncertain. Now, though, this new darkness and ease meant they could finally rest. It had been so long since they rested. 

They felt like they were falling asleep in a lot of ways. The slow realization that their limbs were not their own, that a heavy but not unwelcome weight was pressing into their entire body, almost as though they were sinking into whatever surface they were on. Perhaps they would sink so deeply that they'd never have to think again, they weren't sure. More movement made them come up slightly, though just barely. It was subtle, so subtle they nearly missed it, but it wasn't as dark. There was no relief in it, really no response at all as they watched the darkness change. The fade was gradual, like watching the sunrise. They felt like they always knew it would come, but they'd hoped it wouldn't be so soon. There was such comfort in the nothingness. 

The light continued to grow brighter and brighter until it was almost burning their eyes. They'd forgotten how much tears burned. It occurred to them then that they might have been dead all that time they were in the darkness. What other explanation was there for it? What was worse, though, was the possibility that the religious zealots that used to sand outside their college campus shouting at people had been right. They were certainly going into the light. 

“-easy, Lovely. Can you open your eyes? Are you awake?” 

That voice. They opened their eyes without hesitating. There was no need to blink or clear their vision. The tears seared down from the outside corners of their eyes and then into their hair. All they could see was an expanse of warm beige. There were no discernable features, nothing was even that interesting about whatever it was that they stared at, but they did stare. 

“Can you look at me?” 

They shook their head, knowing that they were being addressed, though they were unaware of where the voice was coming from or where their own body even was. It was still comfortable, though, supported in a plushiness they couldn't place. 

“I think you had a nightmare. You're okay now, you're safe.” 

They couldn't recall any nightmares, not recently. Maybe when they were a child, but not as an adult. More tears raced, though, and the beige clouded before clearing again. 

“Look at me.” 

A sharp breath of still, empty air pushed their ribs up and out, and they swore they heard the bones and joints creek as if they hadn't moved in that way in a very long time. Maybe they really had been dead. 

A ceiling. They were staring at a ceiling. They screwed their face up as they concentrated on it. It was completely smooth, not a single hint of texture or damage to follow the lines of with their eyes. It was completely blemish free. Another breath rattled through them. 

“Lovely?” 

At the sound of their name, they'd never had another one, after all, their head turned automatically and at once their vision was overwhelmed. There was too much to see. Too many things. A desk. A chair. Rugs. Books. Candles. Framed photos. It all rushed them. Everything blurred then burned then cleared. A face filled their space. 

“Can you say something?” 

The air they'd just sucked in shuddered out of their open mouth, sour and bitter. They really did thrown up, it wasn't as distant of a memory as they thought. If the face in front of them minded, it gave nothing away. 

For a breath, the features didn't register for them. It was all smears of shadows and high points, until their mind caught up and they could make out eyes like they'd never seen before and yet were so familiar it made them calm instantly. They were okay. They were safe. They knew these eyes. 

“Try to breathe.” 

As quickly as the light had come, it went. They sank down, deeply. It was a sharp, aching relief. No more thoughts. No more sight. No movement. No taste. No heat. The only feeling they had left was the supple drape of their form floating further and further away from the light. 

Chapter Text

Keeping them under his trance was proving to be a lot more difficult than Vincent originally anticipated. They’d been able to get through meeting Will, which had gone really well all things considered, and he’d even agreed that they needed more time to adjust than some of the others but that it wouldn’t be an issue. Vincent had gotten a good one, and Will seemed willing to allow him to do whatever was necessary to make this work out. 

It was after them meeting Will that things went south. At first, he hadn’t noticed anything was wrong. They were calm, still, their heart was beating just as evenly as the breath that moved in and out of them. He’d brought them back to his office, of course, because he certainly wasn’t going to leave them downstairs so soon after bringing them home. They needed time, like Will said, and he was more than happy to give them that. Despite his initial high hopes, them jerking to sit upright without any warning caught him completely off guard. He watched, stunned, as their mouth dropped open. Expecting a scream based on the tension in their neck alone, he was even more confused when no sound came out. They sat there, completely still but impossibly tensed, eyes so wide he worried they may hurt themself, and silently screamed. 

When he stood to go to them, though, the tension released all at once, and he was barely quick enough to catch their head as their body fell backwards. Panic started to rise in the back of his throat, the sharp taste of bile difficult to swallow down as he tried to stay calm enough to think straight. He needed to get them flat, to make sure something medical wasn’t happening with them. Desperately, he called out for Sam, not caring whether or not he woke them. It might be better if they did wake up, at least he’d know their brain still functioned. 

The door hit the wall after Sam appeared at his side, crouched and ready to fight. He quickly straightened, “What? Why the fuck did you yell like that? I thought somebody was tryin’ to start a frenzy.” 

“Sam, they just-I don’t even know how to explain this, check them over. Please, please look them over, something’s wrong with them, they won’t wake up.” His words came out jumbled, all running into each other as the next tried to come out. They were so pale, so still, and through his panic he couldn’t hear anything but his own ragged breathing. 

He fell sideways onto his hip as Sam shoved him out of the way. There was a faint glow around his hands as he moved them over the little body on the couch. 

“What’s wrong with them?” he asked, too afraid to know and too afraid to move closer to them. 

Sam didn’t answer, though. His brow was furrowed and his lip was tucked between his teeth. It felt like his stomach dropped out of his body. That didn’t instill any kind of confidence in Vincent at all. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked again, his voice shaking almost as much as his hands were. 

“Will you shut up, I’m tryin’ to work.” 

A very hard lump lodged its way into his throat, and he couldn’t swallow around it no matter how hard he tried. He’d just gotten them, just barely been close enough to smell the satisfying scent of their blood. How was he supposed to lose them when he hadn’t even gotten a chance to taste-. 

“You fuckin’ idiot.” 

Vincent pushed himself up onto his knees and glanced rapidly between Lovely and Sam, his own heart racing as his palms started to sweat. What had he done? What had he neglected? 

“You dumped too much magic in them. They’re unempowered, or did you grab too many elementals and forget what it’s like with somebody who doesn’t know magic?” 

“They’re okay?”

Sam rolled his eyes and shoved Vincent back down onto his hip again, “They’re going to be if you lay off of ‘em for a couple of days.” 

He shook his head, though, “You mean like, pull back a little bit? I can’t just leave them untranced, they’ll freak.” 

“Use that tiny little brain of yours to keep them busy. You’re gonna have to figure this one out on your own.” 

“What-?” Sam was already gone, though, and Vincent was left on his ass in front of Lovely, who was still very much unconscious. 

Just as quickly as his grasp on Will’s approval had come, he felt like it was slipping away. Would Will allow him to keep Lovely tucked away for even longer than they’d originally talked about? He didn’t know. The only way to know would be to ask, but he shuddered at the thought even if nothing was set in stone yet. Will didn’t like being disappointed, and it was becoming more and more common that Vincent was the reason for the disappointment, even more so than Alexis was. 

“Vincent-.” 

The tiny gasp of his name made his head whip around so fast he saw stars. Without pausing to think, he draped himself over their waist and chest and drew the backs of his fingers against their cheek, “Shh, Lovely, I’m here,” he cooed. 

“I feel like shit.” 

“I know, baby, I know. I’m so sorry, I was making you sick. It’s okay now, though, I’ll make you better.” 

Their eyes rolled and all he could see was the whites, and then they seemed to come back to themselves a bit as they turned their head towards him and met his eyes steadily. They waited like that, staring into his eyes and, more than that, looking. They were looking at him. 

“I want to go back-,” they whispered. 

Hurt panged through him, “You can’t.” 

“-back to the dark.” 

A crease formed between his eyebrows as they pushed together, “What?”

“To the dark,” they said, their voice weaker, “feels good.” 

Realization washed through with a numbing relief and he felt his shoulders sag away from his ears, “Oh, you mean the trance? I can’t do that for you right now, I’m sorry. I’m glad it feels good for you, though, I try to make sure you’re comfortable.” 

Their hand twitched under his chest and he arched so they could move it. He thought maybe they’d just shift around but their fingers grazed his neck, “Stay here.” 

“Of course, I’m going to stay here. I’m not going to leave you.” 

Their eyes fluttered closed and he caught their hand before it could fall. Carefully, he sandwiched it between both of his own and rested his forehead against his knuckles. 

Chapter Text

The room was silent until Will let out a deep, paper-thin-patience sigh. Vincent was already bracing himself for the rage he could see simmering just under the surface of Will’s eyes and he knew that it was coming one way or another. He’d explained the situation while Lovely slept perfectly nestled in the nest on his office couch. It didn’t seem that Will’s presence agitated or roused them at all, and he’d promised that he wouldn’t leave them. Part of him, too, was nervous about not being in the room with them. If they had another fit or whatever it was, and he wasn’t there, who knew what would end up happening to them. 

“I see,” Will said slowly, “how much longer does Sam say they need?”

“Not long. Maybe a day or two.” 

He nodded once, tenting his fingers up in front of his face as he rested his elbows more surely into the wood of the desk, “Perhaps they would be of better use to us as a staff human.” 

“A staff human?”

“You are obviously quite protective of them. Tell me honestly if you would be trusting of our guests with them.” 

Wincing but completely powerless to the invocation, the response felt like it was pulled out of him on a fish hook, “No.” 

“As I suspected. Do tell me, dear one, what is your job?”

He stood up a bit straighter, “I make sure the humans are under control and keep the stock renewed and in check.” 

“And how does this-,”  Will nodded towards the couch, “-fit into those duties?”

There really wasn’t a way for him to twist it. Whichever way that Vincent tried, he knew it wouldn’t be a strong enough argument. 

“I wanted them for myself.” 

“And yet you let Sam touch them whenever he likes.” 

Anger flared through him, turning his vision red for half of a second, “Sam heals them when I tell him to. They’re more fragile than I thought they were.” 

“And what have we done with other fragile humans in the past, dear one?”

As quickly as his anger came on, it was replaced by jagged pieces of ice, “We don’t keep them here.” 

“No, we do not. What do we do?”

“Wipe their memories and put them back.” 

The couch creaked softly and Vincent jerked to life. He was at their side just as they sat up onto an elbow. 

“Hey, hey, easy,” he cooed, catching their shoulders and guiding them back down, “rest more, Lovely, don’t push yourself.” 

“I don’t want to leave you,” they whimpered, though they allowed him to move them, “I want to stay with you.” 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were awake.” 

Will cleared his throat and more ice cemented itself in his chest as he rushed to shield them from any of Will's quiet fury, “I’m sorry, Will, they’re confused.” 

“You go to them so readily,” he mused, “perhaps they are the one in control of you?”

The anger was silkier this time, smoother. It felt more like warm water than a fiery blaze of light shooting through his core. He realized quickly that it was more of an ego bruise than a call to war. 

“I would be open to having them be available to the staff, but not Alexis. I doubt Sam will want anything to do with them either.” 

Will raised a curious eyebrow, “In practice, then, they would only be yours.” 

“Not exclusively.” 

“If I were to call on them, then?”

His jaw clicked as he ground his teeth together, “That would be your right.” 

“If I were to have them entertain me?”

Vincent could only incline his head. The words wouldn’t come. Even if he was invoked, he didn’t think he could make a single sound. 

The air in the room shifted and then Will was at the door, his hand around the doorknob and his eyes on Lovely’s face, “This will not become a problem for you, Vincent.” 

“No, sir.” 

“Good. Let us be very sure of that.” 

Tension rippled through the air. Vincent didn’t know if Will was going to ask for them then and there or if he’d leave them be. The longer the silence stretched, the bigger the pit in his stomach opened. He didn’t know if he could still be sick, but if Will stayed much longer, staring down at Lovely, he thought that maybe he’d find out. How embarrassing would that be, he wondered, to throw up on his rug in front of them, to have his own vomit smeared across the corner of his mouth and down his chin. He seriously doubted he would look half as tempting as Lovely had. 

“Have a good evening, dear one.” 

The second the door shut behind Will, Vincent sagged with relief. Lovely’s voice made him jump and straighten again.  

“What did he mean by call on me?”

Their voice was clearer than it had been so far, and he knew that his magic was slowly leaving their body. Soon, they wouldn’t be under its protection at all. 

Vincent shook his head, “I won’t let it happen.” 

“Well, what did it mean?”

He met their eyes, weighing if he could get away with adding just a little trance back over them to soften what he was about to say. The idea of possibly hurting them, though, added to his nausea. 

“I haven’t had a chance to explain it to you yet. Usually, I don’t explain things.” 

“What?”

The breath that he drew in held all of their searing scent, though it didn’t relax him at all. If anything, it only made him feel that much more protective. 

Even though he knew that by the time he was finished explaining his magic would be weak enough that they’d probably be able to break out of it despite being unempowered, Vincent took a deep breath and started explaining. 

He started somewhere near the beginning, but not exactly. It felt wrong to divulge that the club started as a way for the Solaires to have access to humans whenever they wanted. Instead, he said that it was their way of maintaining control of their territory; whoever controlled the blood, controlled the other vamps. When they’d scowled slightly, he grumbled out an explanation, how magic was real and vampires, among other things, were also very real. They didn’t question this, so he continued. 

The Solaires owned the club, they moved the humans in and out of it, and he’d picked them from the crowd downtown because of how good they smelled. This admission made their face go blank, but he didn’t have time to slow down or stop. He needed to get everything out before he ran out of courage and before his magic was entirely gone from them. 

He needed them because the last human he’d managed to bring in hadn’t lasted two nights with the guests before they were drained and a very minor frenzy broke out. Of course, Vincent didn’t want Lovely to work the floor at all, he didn’t want them put in that kind of danger, and they seemed so fragile that he was trying to figure out how to keep them safe. He thought about also admitting that he was starting to care for them, but thought better of it. This would be enough information for one night, especially without any magical cushion for their mind. 

By the end of it, Lovely’s eyes were wide, but that was the only indication that they’d even heard what he was saying. Everything else was blank. Even their heart was slow and steady, as if it hadn’t caught up to what their brain just learned. 

Vincent took another deep, scorching breath. It had been two or three days since he’d last fed, he couldn’t remember exactly, but it was a while. Each minute he spent with them in his little office was another minute closer to him possibly losing control. 

“I’m sure you have questions?”

Lovely shook their head, “No.” 

“Are you sure? Because that was just a lot.” 

“I don’t think I can think of anything.” 

He leveled his eyes with theirs, “I just went through all of that and you seriously don’t want to know anything more?”

Their expression turned far away, though, as their fingers started plucking at the blanket still pooling in their lap, “I don’t remember dancing.” 

“I mean, I thought you got a blister from dancing, and you were sweating when I came up to you.” 

Suddenly, they winced, “Oh, yeah that was the molly.” 

“Molly?”
“It was their birthday.”

“You and your friends do molly on each other’s birthdays?” He demanded, a new kind of anger fizzling through him. It was infuriating hearing how little they cared for themself. First it was drinking when they knew they were allergic and then this. 

“I mean, yeah, sometimes. Jesus, my head really hurts.” 

Squinting, he asked, “Do you want something for it?”

They waved him off, though, “I don’t think so. Maybe water?”

“Stay here.” 

He came back with a full glass and they were on their feet, leaning sideways against the corner of the desk with their arms folded. The mesh shirt they still wore hugged tightly to their body; he hadn’t noticed that before. 

“Drink. We have human medicine downstairs, too.” 

If Vincent was truly honest with himself, he’d have to admit that he was really impressed by how well they were taking all of this. It almost was disturbing how calm they stayed. Even though he’d never told any of the other humans what was going on, he’d imagined that there would be fighting and shouting and maybe even crying. So far, though, Lovely seemed perfectly capable of coping with it. 

“You’re waiting for something,” they said, turning their eyes steadily to his. 

“Uh, I mean, I guess I thought you’d freak out.” 

“I feel sort of numb, I guess, like my heart should be hammering but it’s not.” 

He winced, “That’s probably still my magic keeping you calm.” 

“So I should be freaking out, then? Like, that’s what I should be doing but you’re stopping me from doing that?”

Of course, it was more complicated than that, so Vincent shrugged, “I honestly don’t know.” 

“What would you do if I tried to leave?”

“Right now?”

“Yeah.” 

It took him a minute to think about it, “I guess I’d stop you.” 

“Why?”

Nervously, he licked his lips and was immediately aware that he’d positioned himself between them and the door. It hadn’t been on purpose or even conscious on his part, but their question made his stomach dip as he realized. 

“I can’t let you out in the club without me, and I really can’t let you leave now that I’ve explained all of this to you. It’s against our laws.” 

“It’s against your laws and you told me anyway? Why?”

“I don’t think I can ever let you leave.” 

Their slow, deep breath made him shiver. Maybe the yelling was just delayed when his magic was involved. He braced himself for it.

Chapter Text

“Why not?” There was a new demanding tone in their voice he’d had yet to hear. Only, he didn’t think it was doing what they wanted it to do. Usually when people were demanding, they wanted to get whatever it was that they were demanding. When Lovely was demanding with him, it only made him want to keep them even more to himself. Perhaps they could run away together to Europe or somewhere even further and never have to be apart from each other. They would have to rely on him in more ways if he took them out of the country, and that would only further secure their bond as a pair. His mind spun at the thought. 

“It’s a little bit hard to explain.” 

Their eyes narrowed, “Try me.” 

“I feel like I’ve already overwhelmed you with information tonight. You’re still getting better from being sick and I really don’t think pushing you is the right thing to do tonight.” 

“Fine, then tell me what that guy meant when he said that he would call on me.”

Vincent thought that perhaps solving a rubik's cube in the dark would be easier than managing their questions as his magic wore off. Had he known they’d be so pressed to learn as much as possible as quickly as possible, he might have been more tempted to try bringing them back much slower. 

Instead of dragging it out, something he absolutely did not have the patience for any longer, Vincent said, “Will was saying that you could be dedicated to entertaining the staff instead of our guests. He asked what I would do if he had you to himself for a while.” 

At first, they didn’t react, and then at once, they looked like they were going to be sick. 

“Oh my god. You’re trafficking me.” 

“No, no, no,” he rushed to guide them down into the chair at the desk before they hurt themself, “No, I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” 

“But you said-.” 

“I know what I said. I wouldn’t let anything bad happen, though. Feeding is-. Well, it’s not like what you’re probably picturing.” 

“Feeding?”

He shivered. The yelling was definitely delayed. 

“I mean that I’m not going to let you get violated. Anything that happens here between you and me or Will or anyone else on the staff is safer than if you were with guests. I swear to you, nobody is going to hurt you.” 

Their face turned progressively more and more green, “I’m going to throw up.” 

Without a single breath of hesitation, Vincent held up his office garbage for them and winced as they did indeed throw up. 

“I’m getting worried about your levels of hydration,” he murmured, wincing again as they heaved and then choked. Tears were racing down their cheeks, and he wondered if he should have their memory wiped and try to start over with them. Maybe he could follow them around for a few days, learn their routine, and then take them when they were sober. He could make it look like they decided to do a year abroad or something, and surely their human friends would forget that they were supposed to come home at some point. If he started over with them, maybe they wouldn’t have such a hard time. He could do everything right. 

“I should be trying to kill you.” 

Their voice brought him back out of his head, “Sorry?”

“I said I should be trying to kill you. Fighting my way out of here to get home.” 

“That’s probably my magic sedating you a bit.” 

They nodded, their expression blank as they seemed to weigh his words, “Is that what it does? Sedate me?”

“Something like that.” 

“Is that what being fed on feels like, too?”

Vincent considered that for a moment, looking them over carefully for any sign of them being too interested in all of it. Most humans never got to tell him what it felt like to be fed on, and the ones who lived were too deep in his trance to really have any thoughts or feelings about the process. He supposed that he always did his best to make sure it was at least comfortable, but he’d never tried to do anything more than that. Unlike Will, he didn’t see the benefit of giving his donors pleasure. It seemed exorbitant. 

“Sometimes, I think. Feeding can really feel like whatever the vamp wants it to.” 

“What were we talking about before this?” they asked, slumping back in the chair and putting their hands over their face. 

“You said you thought that you should be trying to kill me and escape.” 

“Is it even possible for me to do either of those things?”

He shook his head, “No. You wouldn’t make it through the club before a guest grabbed you.” 

Seeing them shiver at the thought of such a thing inspired some amount of confidence in him. At least they had the sense to know that he was safe and downstairs was not. 

“What am I supposed to do, then? I can’t stay here, Vincent, I have a family and classes and-and a whole life out there.” 

Anger flared just behind his eyes, “A family who doesn’t call you even though you’ve disappeared for three days?”

Their expression broke open and he watched the last of his trance melt from them, “You had my phone this whole time and you never gave it to me?”

“Okay, first of all, you’ve been mostly unconscious this whole time. Second of all, I haven’t ever done this before. Usually, cell phones get thrown away, so you’re welcome for saving it for you.” 

“Are you going to give it to me or..?”

“No, I’m not going to give it to you. But I swear nobody has reached out to you or asked where you are or anything. So why would you want to go back to that?”

At this, they stumbled slightly and blushed bright pink, “W-Well, that’s personal, I don’t know.” 

Vincent pressed them though, his entire body going tense as he leaned into the desk and fixed his eyes on theirs, willing them to tell him. Not being able to trance them felt like torture. 

“I-,” they shook their head, “-fine. Fine, for fucks sake. I do this sometimes. Disappear, I mean, I fucking go off after partying. If I’m gone for more than a week, though, they're going to freak out and call the cops and then what?”

“They’ll never find you.” 

“The cops will obviously review street cameras and see you with me. Then they’ll raid this place and the entire world learns magic and vampires are real. What then?” 

Vincent shook his head, “I move too fast for their cameras. There’s no evidence of us being together at all. I’ve been doing this long enough to not get caught, little one.” 

For several minutes, Lovely stared at the surface of the desk, apparently deep in thought. He would kill to be able to read their mind, even if for only the four minutes in which they said nothing. 

“You’re going to kill me, aren’t you?”

“I’m actually doing everything I can to make sure you don’t die, I’ll have you know. I’ve never taken care of a human like this before.” 

They let out a humorless laugh, “Oh, so I’m some kind of weird, exotic pet for you?” 

“You’re more than that.” The words slipped out before he could stop them. He didn’t want them to get the wrong idea, that he would end up doing something untoward to them or make an advance that wasn’t accepted or appropriate. He wasn’t some kind of beast unlike a lot of the guests they had downstairs, but he couldn’t find the right way to tell them this without upsetting them even more than they already were. 

It was almost comical as their mouth dropped open, though the humor was lost as their eyebrows pushed together angrily, “Excuse me?”

“Okay, that’s not what I meant to say. I mean that you’re not a pet. You’re a person, obviously, and I think that’s enough questions for tonight.” 

“You can’t keep me here.” 

“I really can. Please don’t make me force you. I don’t want you to be afraid of me.” 

Their eyes narrowed sharply on him, “You think I’m afraid of you?”

“I think I have something you really like and maybe even need, and I think even if you did somehow manage to get out of here, you’d come back for it.” 

Watching the color drain from their face didn’t make him feel satisfied at all. It only confirmed his gut feeling: they wanted the trance, maybe even the bite. He’d heard of humans like this, though he’d never experienced one himself. Alexis had more experience given her age, and Will had more stories than even she did about entire brothels of humans who were so willing to donate or entertain if it meant feeling any amount of magic. The thought that Lovely was one of these humans made Vincent’s body go cold. 

“You-.” 

“No, you are the one who told me that you wanted to be tranced. You said it felt good. Imagine what being fed from might be like, with the right person.” He didn’t know why he was pushing them or what had come over him. Fear was pushing the words from him. He had to know if they’d just been addled or if they really did like the way it felt. They stayed pale and silent, though, staring at the desk and chewing on their lower lip. 

“Am I that obvious to you?”

Their question caught him off guard, “You think you’re subtle, don’t you?”

“People usually can't tell.”

He took in the simplicity of their features with slow precision, “Lovely, I am not people. The guests downstairs are also not people. If any of them found out that you liked it this much, they would immediately take advantage of that and kill you.” 

“Where does that leave us?” they asked quietly, their voice breaking with emotion. Immediately he felt guilty for being so harsh. 

Vincent let out a slow sigh and pressed his fingers into the bridge of his nose, pinching, even though it provided no relief from the pounding in his head, “You need me, I need you. It’s getting late, though, and you need to rest. Let’s try to pick up this conversation tomorrow, alright?” 

“I don’t want to leave this unresolved.” 

“Nothing is going to get resolved if you’re exhausted and I’m starving. You need to go to sleep so I can go take care of myself.” 

“Take me with you.” 

“Nope, not happening. Staying up here is your only option.” 

“Won’t that guy be more happy with you if he sees me getting better?” 

Vincent opened his mouth to snap back at them again but he quickly closed it. Even though he scowled, he couldn’t exactly argue with them; Will would be pleased if he saw that he was taking good care of their newest addition. 

“Come here.” 

Lovely rolled the chair back and stood, though they did sway slightly. He was fast, though, and lifted them without any trouble. 

“Hey-.” They struggled in his arms for a moment, then stilled, “Oh, I get it. You’re trying to make me look better but not one hundred percent back to myself. Got it.” 

“Very good. Try to look sickly.” 

There was a rather awkward pause where all they did was look at each other, but then Lovely stiffly curled down into his chest and let the side of their head rest against his shoulder, “Is this alright?”

“S’fine. We’re not going to be down there long, okay? And if I tell you to close your eyes, promise me that you will.” 

“Why?”

“I don’t want you to see me like this.” 

They stayed quiet, and when he prompted them again, they huffed out a sigh and promised they wouldn’t look while he fed. He didn’t believe them, but having them so close while he was so thirsty was too dangerous for him to waste any more time. If he did end up seriously hurting them, he’d never be able to forgive himself.

Chapter Text

It took a few hours before Lovely awake again and ready to talk. When they did wake, they were more anxious than they’d been since he’d met them, their fingers trembling and their eyes wide and jerking as they took in the office again. 

“I promise nothing is going to hurt you,” he reminded them from where he sat at the desk, close enough that they’d known he was there with them, but far enough that his presence didn’t overwhelm or offend them. If he was going to get anywhere with them, he needed to make sure that they understood that he would respect most of their requests and certainly all of their personal space. There wasn’t a single part of him that wished to take advantage in any of the obvious, insidious ways. Sure, he wasn’t going to let them leave him, but anything other than that, he would try to permit them. 

When he got through explaining this to them, their shoulders eased down about an inch from where they’d been pressed up under their ears, “This is really starting to freak me out. I don’t know you, and I don’t understand why, but I feel like I trust you even though I know I shouldn’t.” 

“Yeah, that’s still probably whatever magic is left in you, even if it’s just the memory of it. That’s part of my trance. It makes it easier to work with people if they have a foundational level of trust with me, and then I never do anything to break that so we’re all better off in the long run.” 

“I don’t think I should trust you, though.” 

“It’s good not to trust strangers,” he reasoned, “but as bad as it might sound, I do really need you to trust me.” 

“But I don’t know you.” 

“No, but I’ve been taking care of you for four days now and I think that has to stand for something, right?”

They went quiet, weighing that for a bit, until they sat up fully and crossed their legs, “Nothing’s happened between us?”

“I swear on my life.” 

Their lips pursed, “Would I even know if something did?”

Vincent wasn’t a monster. He didn’t do half of the things Sam, Alexis, Will, or any of their guests ever had. He was less interested in using his power over people, at least anything more dubious than the humans downstairs. It didn’t get him off, though, knowing that he could make any of them do anything more than he already had them doing. He didn’t want more than that. 

“Yes. It wouldn’t be fun for me if you didn’t know what was happening and weren’t participating.” 

They nodded slowly, seeming to start properly calming down, “I shouldn’t trust you.” 

“No, probably not. It would be easier if you did, though, so if there’s anything I can do to help that along, I’m here and willing.” 

“I need to eat actual food. Not just broth and water.” 

He nodded, “Alright. What sounds good?” 

As a show of good faith, he took them down to the kitchen and showed them the fridges. With the other humans sleeping soundly down the hall, he wasn’t very worried about waking anyone up. There were a few times when Lovely looked towards the main double doors, but they didn’t move towards them at all and stayed relatively close to him as they collected granola bars and two sandwiches from the fridge. Vincent didn’t tell them to be careful or to not take too much in case it hurt their stomach after so many days of broth. Whatever they needed to feel more in control, he’d allow. 

“So,” Lovely said once they were both upstairs and their stomach was full and settled again, “tell me what the plan is.” 

Vincent picked his head up off the back of the couch; they’d traded places, they sat at the desk and he lounged.

“You think I have a plan?”

“Well, you have to, because I have no idea how any of this works.” 

The dismay that was already plain on their face only made him feel more guilty, “I don’t have a plan.” 

“What?”

“My plan was to get you back here. After that, it’s not exactly been going the way this usually goes. That’s what I keep trying to tell you.” 

“Okay, so tell me how it normally goes.” 

He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, pushing all the air in his lungs out and then did his best to explain. 

“Usually, I bring the human back, get them washed up and fed, and then leave them down with the others. Usually, my magic does all the work for me. They copy what the others do, they eat and they sleep and they perform downstairs.” 

Lovely’s face pinched, “And when you say perform what does that mean?”

“Dance.” 

“Dance?”

He matched their expression, “Will is most fond of the era of burlesque and cabaret shows. Something about it charmed him, I guess. The humans downstairs entertain our guests.” 

They sat up, the sudden movement making the chair creak, “They strip?”

“Something like that.” 

Their eyes darted over him as they searched his face for more information, “You were going to make me strip?”

“It’s not just the dancing,” he said, impatient suddenly, “it’s the feeding, too. That’s why I have to make sure you’re all taken care of. Some of our guests are less than disciplined.” 

Slumping, the chair creaked again under them, “You were going to send me out there to strip and be fed on.”

“That was the original idea, yes. But then I smelled you and saw how unwell you were and now here we are.” 

Lovely shook their head as if they were clearing it, “But I’m not going to have to strip?”

“Not out there, no.” 

“So, I will have to?”

“I really don’t know right now. Will can be difficult to make sense of. Sometimes he says things in a joking way but he means them seriously and vice versa.” 

They went very pale, even their lips losing some of their color, “I can’t do it. I don’t know how, I’ll look so, so stupid.” 

Vincent shook his head, “I wouldn’t make you do it without being tranced, okay? We just have to work you back up to that point so you don’t get sick again.” 

“But I am going to have to do it?”

“I would prepare yourself for it, yeah. And the feeding, but it wouldn’t be anyone other than me, I’m pretty sure, and I’ll do everything I can to make it look real.” 

Silence settled between them and he could tell that they didn’t believe anything he was saying. They were too still, too pale, despite him giving them every solution he could think of. Then, slowly, they met his eyes again and they were burning. 

“You’ll keep me safe?”

“I will.” 

Casually, they set their arm out on the desktop and looked between it and him, “How do you fake it?”

A harsh, broken gasp of his name made Sam look lazily up from where he’d sunk down between his own little hidden away toy’s thighs. It was well into the morning, so there was no reason for them to be quiet. Everyone else, except for maybe Vincent, would be tucked into bed and none the wiser to his current exploits. 

“Yes, darlin’?” he asked, pulling away just enough to get his words out before sinking back to them. Though they hadn’t been meeting up for very long, he found their time together therapeutic. They liked a lot of the things he’d never tried, and were a very willing and enthusiastic teacher. 

They laughed at him, breathless and weak. The tension in their body was building and he knew it wouldn’t take much more to send them over the edge. It wasn’t necessarily his favorite part of being with them, but it was certainly satisfying. 

A sharp, ripping sort of gasp filled the room and then they were shaking under him, pushing and also pulling on his shoulders as their knees knocked sideways against his ribs. 

“Too much-,” they whimpered, but their hips kept pushing up into his mouth, even as he pulled away, it was like they chased him. He couldn’t help but grin down at their twitching body. 

“Well, that was fun.” 

“Your turn?” they asked, lifting a trembling hand up towards his face. Sam didn’t prefer things to be so intimate when feeding, but he allowed it to be when it was them. There wasn’t a tinge of awkwardness as he slid back down to rest his bare chest against their belly. Outside of their warmth, he only found himself feeling quite fond of the shifter. 

“If you’re offerin’, I’d be pretty pleased with that.”

He caught their wrist between his thumb and first finger and brought it to his lips. The muscles under their skin shivered as he breathed them in. Like with most shifters, there was a subtle musk to their scent that was deeply animalic that stuck to his tongue even without tasting. 

Just as he let his fangs drive into them, he also pushed a decent amount of magic into them. The effect was immediate. Their shaking stopped and they went completely lax under him, murmuring nonsense and whimpering as he covered the small wound with his lips and drew their blood into his mouth one firm suck at a time.  

He didn’t take much from them, just a couple of mouthfuls to get him through the next few hours before he fed for real. Unlike his last choice in partner, they didn’t mind that he’d go off to find somebody more expendable to satiate himself with. 

As he pulled back, he laved his tongue over the puncture wounds and then his own lips. It wasn’t that they minded seeing their blood, in fact part of him was convinced they actually liked seeing it, but he didn’t want any to go to waste. It seemed like a crime to miss even a single drop of what they so willingly gave. 

“My head’s spinning,” they sighed, sounding more out of it than usual. 

“I’ll get you some water and somethin’ to eat in a bit,” he promised quietly. 

Annoyance started to burn at Vincent as he drew his nose along the inside of Lovely’s forearm, hunting for a good place to sink his teeth into. Of course, he’d close the wound before it had time to bleed, before he had a chance to properly taste them, and then pretend to drink from them, but the sounds of Sam and his whatever they were upstairs. He rolled his eyes when he heard them call out Sam’s name and hoped that Lovely couldn’t hear them going at each other. They were usually more quiet, but apparently Sam had forgotten to cover their mouth or something. 

“Are you okay?” 

“Yeah,” he answered, trying to focus instead on sniffing along their arm, “just trying to find a good place.” 

“I mean, I know I asked for a physical demonstration but if it’s too much we don’t have to.” There was something in their voice, though, something that made him look up through his eyelashes at them. As suspected, they were starting to blush and their pupils were slowly dilating.

“Are you feeling okay?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah, no, yeah I’m fine.” 

He cocked an eyebrow, “Really? Because you sort of look like you’re either getting really turned on or you’re waiting for a kick.”

They flexed their fist and shook their head, “Uh, no, I mean, I’m definitely curious what it feels like but mostly I just want to know how you want me to act when you, uh, fake this.” 

“How good are you at acting?”

“Probably not very.” 

He nodded, finally finding a place where their pulse was further away from the surface of their skin, “I think if you just try to relax as much as possible then it’ll be fine.” 

Quietly, they asked, “Can we practice?”

“I thought that was what we were doing.” 

“Well, yeah, I mean, can we actually try it.” 

He tried to meet their eyes again, but they weren’t looking at him like they had been before. Their gaze was fixed away from him and their cheeks were more pink. 

“Yeah, we can try. Maybe just once, though. I don’t want to push either of us.” 

“Okay.” 

“Do you want me to give you a countdown or just go for it? It won’t hurt either way.” 

“I don’t care just whenever you-.” Their words were halted as he snapped his jaw as quickly as he could before closing the wound just as quickly as it was made. As they’d discussed, he kept his lips on them, even rested his tongue against their skin and pretended to swallow once or twice before slowly pulling away. 

“How was that?”

Lovely had their head tipped back and was staring wide-eyed up at the ceiling. Their breath scraped in and out of them, and he glanced down to double check that he hadn’t made them bleed. It was bruising, and the edges of the punctures were slightly raised and red, but he couldn’t see any severe trauma that would be causing them enough pain to send them into shock, or, at least, he hoped not. They were so still, though, their breath barely moving in and out of them as they stared up. It made him fully jump when they sucked in a harsh gasp and started to tremble.

Chapter Text

William Solaire was not used to being kept waiting, and the fact that it was his own progeny making him wait did not make it any more acceptable. He examined the room from where he sat, checking for any signs of dust or loose hair, things that could accumulate in corners and make him look cheap. William Solaire was not cheap. He was not some common sloppy thrall, either, and he would absolutely not allow his club to make him seem as such. 

Thirteen more seconds passed before Vincent finally appeared with his odd companion. The little human was light on their feet, though, extending their legs properly as they moved to stand in front of him, completely unsupported by Vincent. He appraised them for a breath before he looked expectantly at his son. 

“Well?”

Vincent inclined his head politely and Will brightened, “They’re ready for you, Will. Call when you’re finished with them.” 

“Oh, no, my dear one, I would prefer for you to stay. They are so fragile, as you’ve reminded me. I do not believe it is wise for you to be far from them.” 

He watched as Vincent’s throat bobbed, and the sound of his gulp could have echoed around the small room had it not been so well insulated. As usual, though, Vincent was quick to cover up his own blunder. He offered a feeble, weak sort of smile that made Will want to snap his neck. It wouldn’t be the first time such a thought had crossed his mind. 

“Of course. Where would you like for me to be?”

Will gestured and he moved there without question, folded his hands behind his back and stared straight ahead. In truth, he was the picture of the perfect, submissive son that Will had always hoped he’d be. 

“Have them begin.” 

Again, Vincent inclined his head and turned his eyes to the human before them. They didn’t look particularly strong or lithe the way the others did, but Will was willing to give them a pass. After all, this was their first time. When they started to move, their body unexpectedly loose and graceful, Will turned his full attention to Vincent instead. Whether his son knew that he was being watched or not, he maintained his composure. That was, until Will asked, “Do they know any commands the way the others do?”

“They have enough control to understand language, yes,” Vincent answered automatically. 

With his gaze still on his son, Will called the human forward. They moved delicately to him, floating, almost, and stood still just in front of him. They were close enough that he could smell the heady sweetness of their sweat, and he leaned forward to hover his nose right over the large artery in their torso. 

“I had forgotten how intoxicating they are.” 

Vincent only hummed. His entire body was tense. Will was sure if the door opened it would knock him completely over. 

“Sweet one,” Will said, “may I have a little taste of you?”

The human held their wrist out to him, though he found they were already sampled. 

He clicked his tongue, “My, my, Vincent, you’ve been misbehaving.” 

“I only made sure they were up to your standard.” 

That made him chuckle. Sometimes his son was less predictable than he liked, but his humanity had remained despite everything and that was charming in its own way. 

“Is it up to your standard?”

“No, not particularly.”

“You are too picky,” Will mused, “I do not believe any human has pleased you.” 

He brought the human’s wrist up to his lips and kissed over where their pulse was the clearest. As he opened his mouth, he kept eye contact with Vincent, waiting and watching. He gave no sign of distress, though, and Will was a little put out. His fighting spirit is what was so charming about him, and if he didn’t at least flinch when Will bit his new favorite it wouldn’t be any fun at all. He wanted to see Vincent care, to see him raging and on fire and furious. He showed so little spirit these days that any outburst would be invigorating. 

 When Vincent continued to do nothing, Will spun the human down into his lap and bit down sharply into them. There was little fanfare; the human didn’t grind their body into his, hunting for more pleasure, and they didn’t make a single sound. Even when he pushed a bit more magic into them, they didn’t respond. Whatever trance Vincent had them under was stronger then what he kept the others in. 

“My only ask is that you don’t flood them,” Vincent finally said, “they’re still adjusting.” 

Will pulled back, barely a drop of their potent blood on his lips, “They do not react the way I am accustomed to.” 

“They’re not used to magic. It doesn’t really combine in their system. At least, that’s what Sam was saying. Something blocks it in them.” 

“How very intriguing.” He pushed them off of his lap and carefully readjusted his dress shirt, “Well, I cannot say that I’m not impressed with how much work you’ve put into them. Perhaps one day they will be able to work in the main room with the others. But, I do see that they need time. Au revoir por le moment, my dear one.” 

Vincent had felt like he was going to vomit more times in the last week than he had in the entirety of the twenty years he’d been a vampire. When Will called on him and requested Lovely for a private performance, he thought that maybe leaping from the roof in the middle of the day would be less stressful. 

“Okay, do you remember what we practiced?” 

Lovely nodded, their eyes half-brimming with tears as they tucked their arms around their knees and blew out a slow, shaky breath, “I don’t think I can do it.” 

“You’re going to have to. You won’t remember anything, okay? It’ll be like you blinked.” 

“I don’t know if that’s better or not.” 

He tentatively set his hands on their shoulders, “I promise that you won’t get hurt. I’m pretty sure he’s going to make me stay right outside the door so I’ll be right there for you and I’ll take care of you afterwards. Nothing’s even going to happen.” 

“What if he-.” 

“Nothing is going to happen,” he said more forcefully as he squeezed them, “I’ll be right outside and you won’t feel any pain.” 

They swiped at their eyes with the back of their hand and then took another slow breath, “Okay. Just do it. I want to wake up back here like this.” 

“Of course. Whatever you want.” 

Just like they had when they’d first been under his trance, Lovely met his eyes with a kind of desperation. He hoped it would feel like falling asleep as he let his magic work into them. They had to be careful. It felt like he was having to move one molecule at a time in order to keep them from reacting. This had been practiced, too, much like the faux bite. 

“How do you feel?” he asked, watching as the look in their eyes slowly melted into emptiness. 

 “Fine,” they sighed, “good.” 

“Do you know where you are?”

“Home.” 

He praised them as he helped them change out of the days old clothes into what the new humans usually wore: thin cotton swaths of fabric that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. Costuming was a large part of their club, and the guests liked knowing which ones were new and which ones were established. 

Never in the lead up to the first call from Will did Vincent think he’d be forced to stay in the room and watch everything that Will did to Lovely. Panicked rage bubbled up in his throat like bile but he willed it back. If the first instance of vomiting as a vampire was going to happen, he didn’t want it happening where Will could see. He tried to put his thoughts on Lovely, to watch as they moved to the low music humming through the sound system. They’d latched onto the deep, heavy beat and, if he wasn’t so pissed off and stressed out, he probably would have fallen in love with them then and there. 

Will asking to taste them, though, did send burning bile right into his mouth. Vincent fixed his eyes on the opposite wall and dug his fingers into his palms as Lovely was turned and pressed down onto one of Will’s knees. The muscles and tendons in his hands creaked warningly as he dug harder into them. Something primal in him was roaring to life, and he didn’t know how long he’d be able to hold it in before he snapped. Seeing Lovely treated so flagrantly, so objectively, turned him feral. When Will pushed them down onto the floor at his feet, he saw red. 

Then Will was gone, and he was at Lovely’s side, rage pouring off of him torrentially as he caught their face in one hand. 

“Are you alright?”

“I’m not hurt.” 

“Let’s go back upstairs.” 

He rearranged their clothes, covering them as much as he could before scooping them up into his arms. They rested easily there, nestled into his shoulder and sighed out, “Did I do well?”

“You did very well, Lovely. Rest for me for a little while, okay?” 

The trance did all the work for him. When he set them down on the couch, they were half-asleep and peaceful, and he made sure not to jostle them too much as he leaned over them and asked, as quietly as he could, “Lovely, look at me.” 

They did as he asked, their eyelids half shut until they locked eyes and his magic slowly started to move out of them. The shaking started about half-way through their detox. 

“You’re alright,” he said, smoothing his hand over their shoulder the way he had earlier before they’d left, “I’m right here. Nobody’s touched you.” 

Their hand flew up to grab onto his wrist, and they tightened down until it was almost painful. He tried to breathe slowly, to show them that there truly was nothing wrong, at least not for them. The more magic he pulled from them, the more intense their shaking. This had happened before, though, during their practice sessions and when he’d bit them. It all just made them jittery, like they’d been pounding espressos for an hour. 

“I’m back,” they said through chattering teeth. 

“Welcome back. You did really well. How are you feeling?”

“Awful, but not as awful as before.” 

“An improvement is an improvement,” he agreed as he pulled up the quilt and tucked it around them. It was the least he could do given everything he’d put them through already. Lovely jerked though and yanked their arm out from under the blanket, staring at the new mark that was just to the left of the one he’d purposefully left on them. 

“He bit me?”

“Just once. I don’t think he fed, though. It seemed like he was trying to piss me off.” 

“Did he?”

Vincent made a face at them, “I don’t think you need to know that part.” 

They started to pout but then winced and eased their arm back down, “It doesn’t really feel the way yours do.” 

“Oh?”

“It stings a lot more. Yours don’t ever sting like this.” 

Vincent leaned down to examine the mark and he sighed, “I’m sorry, it doesn’t look like anything’s wrong with it. I can have Sam-.” 

“No,” they cut him off curtly, “no, no Sam. I just want to go to sleep and maybe shower when I wake up next. I feel dirty.” 

Vincent wouldn’t deprive them of something so human, so necessary for their wellbeing. He’d sneak them down to the locker room when they woke up and he’d stand guard outside the shower stall and not allow anyone anywhere near them. If Will tried to call on them again, he’d make up an excuse to keep them hidden away. Running away together was still an option, too, but he knew that it wouldn’t be a lasting solution. They’d have to figure out something more permanent.

Chapter Text

When Lovely stepped out of the shower stall, a towel tight around them and fine water beads glistening on their eyelashes, Vincent’s mouth dropped delicately open. Something in him surged and he found himself white-knuckling the edge of the long sink counter to stay back from them. Whatever animal instinct was trying to take over wasn’t even something he was aware he had hiding in him. He sucked in a sharp breath and tried not to stare at the lines of their body that hadn’t previously been on display. Sure, their mesh top hadn’t hidden too much, but seeing their bare skin and the evidence of them having gone at themselves with a wash rag activated this new part of him expeditiously. 

“Are you okay?”

He gulped, “Uh, what? Yeah, no, yeah, I’m good.” 

“You’re staring at me.” 

“Am I?”

Their expression slid towards wincing away from him and Vincent all but slapped himself in the face. Get it together, he thought angrily at himself. 

“Yeah, kind of.” 

He tried to give them an apologetic smile, “I’m sure you want some new clothes to wear?”

“Unless you have somewhere I can do my laundry.” 

There were, of course, washers and dryers that they’d be more than welcome to use, but Vincent thought something more comfortable was in order, especially given what they’d gone through. As if drawn there by his thoughts alone, his eyes landed on the bite mark Will left on them. It almost made him start to feel sick thinking about how his own marker hadn’t fed from them but had most certainly left his mark there, too. Even though it wasn’t abnormal for Will to mark the humans they kept at the club, the fact that he’d done it to Lovely despite them explicitly not working on the main floor rubbed him the wrong way. Then again, it wasn’t like he’d ever properly cared about any of the other humans before, not the way he cared for Lovely, anyway. 

“Sweats and a t-shirt sound okay?”

“Like heaven.” Their voice was flat, though, when they thanked him. 

“Oh, it’s really no problem. I want to make sure you’re comfortable.” 

It chewed on them as they climbed the stairs just in front of Vincent. They’d thought for hours trying to figure out how to ask the question they needed answered most. Finally, as they went back into the office and he shut the door, they carefully sat on the edge of the sofa and met his eyes. It was their way of showing they trusted him, since it was his eyes that seemed to be what connected them. They still hadn’t figured that out all the way, though. 

“How long do I get to stay with you?”

It seemed innocent enough but would still get them what they needed. By now, their friends and family would start noticing their absence. Something would need to happen or they were all going to suffer thinking that they’d gone and died. Though the thought of death was slightly appealing, not the most appealing it had ever been, they didn’t want to be alive while everyone thought differently. It would be one thing if that were the truth. 

Vincent’s eyes swooped from theirs down to their chin and then back up again, “I guess that’s sort of a complicated question.” 

They tried to school their expression, to not give a single thing away as they said, as shyly as they could manage, “Can it be a long time?”

“I hope it will be,” he said, “I want to do everything I can to do that for you.” 

A very dark feeling yanked their stomach downwards while they did their best to look comforted by his words, “Can I help?”

“What do you mean?”

“Can I help with making it a long time?”

After a few seconds where all he did was stare at them, Vincent slowly smiled, “I might be able to think of a few ways that you could help. Maybe we should talk about it later, though, when you’ve had time to rest? It’s almost noon already so we open in about seven hours. That should be long enough for you to sleep, right?”

“Yeah, right,” they said, trying not to sound disappointed. The truth was that they desperately needed him to trust them, too. If they could convince him that they needed to visit home for some reason, maybe he’d let them go and then they could pretend none of this had ever happened. Of course, it didn’t occur to them that he could possibly find them again, but they felt like if they could just get home, everything would be okay again. Besides, there hadn’t been too much damage done to them. 

There was the magic, though. Giving it up would be hard, harder than anything else they’d ever given up before. He’d been right before, when he said that he had something they wanted, needed, even. It felt like sticky strands of thread started moving underneath their skin, slipping and plunging right under the surface. The logic was pretty clear in their mind: the magic felt better than anything else they tried previously, and the effects were much more easily managed. Vincent kept an eye on them the entire time and he seemed to have significant control over how they were feeling, at least until they were brought back down. There were risks with anything, though, and they were no stranger to waking up in the ER after a particularly crazy night out. He’d been right. Maybe they did need what he had. 

“Are you okay, Lovely?” Vincent asked as he leaned down to look into their face. Automatically, they let their expression relax and met his eyes directly. 

“I’m just tired and I’m nervous about what might happen.” 

He touched their chin affectionately, “I promised that I wouldn’t let anything happen to you. I plan on keeping that promise.” 

“What if you can’t? What if something happens and we get separated?”

Something dark glinted in his eyes for barely a moment before Vincent straightened and let his hands hang casually at his sides, “Lovely, I-. I didn’t want to talk about this until tomorrow, but I get why you’re anxious about it and I don’t think you’ll sleep very well if we don’t talk about it now. Can I sit with you?”

They glanced at their blanket nest and tried to scoop it out of his way so he didn’t have to sit on it, “Uh, yeah, I guess.” 

“I can sit at the desk if you’d rather have some space.” 

“No, it’s not that, I just-, this just feels like it’s my bed, I guess.” 

Vincent raised an eyebrow as he sat down in the space they’d made for him, “Would you prefer a bed? I wasn’t sure how comfortable you’d be but I didn’t want to delay you getting rest.” 

Hesitantly, they asked, “Could I have a bed here instead?”

“Of course you can. I’ll get one up here for you later tonight.” 

“C-Cool, yeah, thanks.” 

Silence stretched between them for a few seconds before Vincent turned his body towards theirs and said, “I was going to tell you tomorrow that there’s something I can do to make Will and any other vampire you come into contact with not be as interested in you. It’s not a perfect solution, but it would sort of be insurance in a way.

“It’s another bite, but this one is a little bit different. I’d have to drink from you a little bit, and then you’d be marked. In my world, if a human is marked, they’re spoken for. It’s sort of a traditional thing and sort of a territory marking thing, but I want to do everything I can to help you not feel so exposed.” 

The thought of Vincent drinking their blood didn’t scare them as much as it would have if he’d suggested it prior to their practice sessions. Instead of being disgusting or jarring, it seemed almost normal. 

“Would that do anything to me? Like, on my end, I mean.” 

“No,” he answered quickly, “it might actually help you when you’re coming out of the trance, but I’m not sure. I might have to talk to Sam about it before we actually do it.” 

“Won’t he say it’s a bad idea?” they asked, rushing to try to maintain a certain level of secrecy between the two of them. If he trusted them, maybe he’d let them out. They’d come back, they knew, they would find him once the threads started to pull, but maybe it could be a casual sort of thing they did on weekends together or something. Their mind raced with the possibilities a casual relationship could bring. 

“Sam? No, way, he marks humans all the time. I think if anyone would understand, it would be him.” 

They tried to come up with another excuse, but Vincent tentatively set his hand on their knee, “Listen. I know this is scary and it feels really unstable right now, but I promise it’s going to be totally fine. It’s okay to feel anxious, but I’m not at all. I know how to help us and that’s what I’m going to do.” 

Lovely looked down at his hand and then carefully set theirs on top of it, “I trust you, Vincent.” 

Chapter Text

Vincent felt his own breath press back into his mouth as he breathed in the scent of their skin. It wafted over his tongue, too, covering all the way to the back of his throat. He shivered as his fangs descended, but he made sure to look into their eyes before he leaned forward to let them pierce their skin. 

“Take a deep breath and blow it out slowly, okay?”

They nodded, their eyes round and worried. He thought maybe it would have been better if he’d tranced them beforehand, just enough to take the nervous edge off, but it was too late. Will was calling on them again and he needed to make sure they were ready to go. Sam had been helpful, too, stalling Will for them while Vincent told them it was time. Not only that, but he’d confirmed what Vincent had been suspecting; the bite could help with Lovely’s intolerance to magic. So, as they exhaled, he brought their forearm up to his lips and he bit. Their skin was paper thin. It took no force to slip through. 

This was not at all like when they’d practiced. Sam was clear when he instructed Vincent on how to mark them; he had to drink. The small amount of their blood he’d come into contact with was absolutely nothing like the hot, heady sanguineous flood that happened the moment his fangs sank deep enough to open them up to him. Involuntarily, he moaned. Whatever pleasure he felt doubled, and he realized much too slowly that he’d shared that feeling with Lovely. One of his hands moved out to grab onto them, wherever he could reach, and he found the bend of their waist without any trouble. From there, he could feel their breath rushing in and out of them, and on his tongue, their pulse raced in quick, shallow spurts. 

He swallowed once, twice, and then he salaciously dragged his tongue against the punctures and pushed himself back and away from them. Even with a good foot of space between them, and his hands back to himself, he had to fight to keep himself where he was with his back pockets on the rug. 

“What was that?” they asked, panting as they held their forearm up to inspect it. They trembled as they tried to examine the angry looking mark. He’d been careless when he closed their wounds; blood was smeared across their skin, a waste. When he tried to answer them, all he did was sway dangerously before catching his balance on his hands. He had to blink hard several times to clear his head enough to remember what words were and how to get them out of his mouth. 

“That was me, sorry,” he murmured, forcing himself to breathe normally despite the intense urge to bring air directly into his mouth, to keep tasting them, “It’s a magic thing.” 

“That’s never happened before.” 

“No, it wouldn’t have. Your blood is, uh, it’s really something else.” 

Immediately they looked confused and a little bit hurt, their expression pulling closed as they tucked their arm against their chest and folded in on themself, “Oh, right.” 

“No, it’s not-,” he sat up on his knees and wobbled so violently he had to grab onto the couch on either side of their thighs, “-it’s not like that. I mean, it’s good. It’s like, really, really good.” 

Lovely didn’t look convinced, “You don’t have to do that.” 

“Do what?”

“Try to convince me.” 

He searched their face, suddenly very aware of the fact that their noses were barely an inch apart, “You felt it, right? The arousal?”

Their cheeks flushed bright pink, and for a moment he thought maybe it was too undignified for them to say, but they carefully nodded, their eyes locked on his as they did.

“That was from me. That’s how your blood makes me feel, Lovely.” 

Somehow, their eyes widened further, “Really?”

“Yes. That’s why for some people it feels really good to be bitten. If the vamp is really into it they can make you feel that, sometimes even more intensely.” 

“There’s something more intense than that?”

Vincent steeled himself, desperately fighting not to say something too flirtatious despite the intense and sudden urge to, “You have no idea.” 

Lovely sat back and he was relieved at the renewed space between them, “I would die.” 

Just as quickly as it had come on, Vincent felt all of the warmth and lingering pleasure rush out of him, “What?”

“I don’t know what that felt like for you, but for me it was like-,” they broke off, searching for a moment, “-twelve orgasms at once.” 

“What?”

“Sorry, I don’t mean to be crass at all, but I’m serious.” 

Vincent was about to demand that they explain, but then Sam was at his side, “We gotta go. Will’s ready.” 

“I don’t think I can stand up yet,” Lovely protested, their hands flying to grab onto the couch. 

“I’ll carry you,” Vincent said, already forcing himself to stand despite the protesting from his legs as he straightened. 

“No,” they rushed, “I mean, I’m serious, Vincent, I don’t think I can-.” 

He scooped them up into his arms despite their protests, “It’ll be fine, little one, I’ll trance you on the way down and then you won’t remember anything. When you wake up, you’ll be in my arms, okay?” Vincent mentally kicked himself. They hadn’t shown many signs outside of being tranced that his presence was all that comforting to them. He supposed maybe once or twice when they were really distressed, but in general, he knew that they were fine on their own. They didn’t really need him. The longer they were with him, though, the more he wished they did. 

Lovely was stiff in his arms as they held themself up against his chest and shoulder. He worried for a moment that they were uncomfortable, but as he turned to head downstairs, he caught the faintest scent in the air and paused, one foot still on the landing. 

“Lovely?”

“Yes?”

“Why didn’t you want to get up off the couch?”

“Uh..”

He didn’t have to hear them say it. The air was tinged with the rather attractive smell of arousal, and he decided that it would probably be more respectful if he pretended he had no idea what they smelled like when they were turned on. 

“I took too much blood from you, didn’t I?” He pivoted easily. 

Lovely cleared their throat awkwardly and nodded, “Y-Yeah, right, yes. I’m just dizzy.” 

“I’ll be careful with you,” he murmured, working his way down the stairs and then stepping off to the side of the main double doors, “look at me, Lovely.” 

For a moment they looked down, bashful, it seemed, before they let their head tip back enough for them to look into his eyes directly. Vincent held back for just a breath before he let his magic slowly creep into them. He was gentle, barely probing until they shivered and went limp in his arms. It was easier to smell them when they were holding their body so closed in on itself. 

“See ya, Vincent,” Sam said as he breezed past them, not looking at either of them as he looped his arm around one of the other humans and carried them, giggling, out onto the main floor. Vincent looked down and gave Lovely a soft smile. 

“How do you feel?”

“Good,” they answered automatically, their voice high and breathy, “Really good.” 

“How was the bite?” he knew he shouldn’t use their current state against them, but he was curious and he knew that untranced Lovely would probably be too embarrassed to really tell him the truth. Their orgasm comment was informative, sure, but he wanted more. 

They grinned back, an expression he hadn’t seen on them quite yet, “Almost better than this.” 

“Better than the trance?”

“Almost,” they corrected him easily, “biting is sexier.” 

Vincent couldn’t help but chuckle as he took them out into the main room and then down the hall of private rooms until they reached Will’s usual spot, “If you want, we can talk more later. Are you ready to do some work?”

He was about to set them down when Will opened the door and looked down his nose at the two of them, “You’re late.” 

“Oh, yeah, sorry, Will, they were-.” 

“It doesn’t matter,” he interrupted, “I want them out here for me tonight. On the main stage.” 

Vincent gulped and looked down at the still grinning Lovely. Their trance wasn’t nearly strong enough to get them through more than thirty or forty minutes in a private room, let alone being out on the large platform in the middle of the floor. 

“They’re still struggling with magic-.” 

“I don’t really care. They’ve been here long enough to know what they’re good for.” 

Vincent bit back a growl that threatened to tear from his throat at the thought of Lovely being good for any one thing, but he knew that Will would let him have it and would probably drag them into it, too, if it meant putting him in his place. So, after taking a breath, he turned and headed back out to the main room with Lovely warm and pliant in his arms, and he hoped more than anything that his trance would be strong enough to keep them unaware of it all.

Chapter Text

Vincent held his breath as he carefully set Lovely down at the front of the main stage. He’d tried to talk Will into letting them use one of the smaller, more private booths, but he wouldn’t hear of it. It was the main stage or nothing, and nothing was not an option. He smoothed his hands down the lengths of their arms and did his best not to respond to the fact that it made goosebumps crop up under his fingers. 

“You have a bigger audience tonight than you usually do.” 

“Okay.” 

“Don’t focus on them, though, just focus on me. I’ll stay close to you and make sure nobody tries to take a bite of you.” 

They gave him a soft, secretive sort of smile and nodded, eyes empty and body relaxed. He just hoped it would hold. The idea of them coming out of it while on stage or too soon after made his throat feel like it was collapsing. He needed his magic to hold.

In the main room, he was acutely aware of how thinly his trance was stretched. There were ten other humans, and he could pick them out of the crowd as if they were pinpricks of sunlight in an otherwise pitch sky. As they moved, his magic stretched and conformed to their bodies and minds. Usually, this feeling was easy enough for him to ignore. When he wasn’t in the same room, he felt the stretching less. Now, though, from where he stood at the absolute front of the room with his back so close to the stage he could almost feel it press into him when he inhaled, Vincent felt the full, shaking strain of it. 

Lovely stood out a bit brighter than the rest, shining more like a flashlight beam than a faraway speck of starlight. If the other humans were dull blips, they were the full power of the sun. If he focused, he could almost feel the warmth radiating off of them. 

He refused to look at them as they started to move. The only reason he knew they were moving at all was the sound of their feet on the stage and the swish of the fabric that clung to them. It was the same outfit as before, but he still couldn’t look. It felt wrong, so he didn’t give into the curiosity. He’d seen them dance before, anyway; he knew what they could do.

Very quickly, the other vamps in the room learned what Lovely could do, too, and it made a vicious sort of anger bubble up in his chest, hot and tarry and mean. Even knowing they bore his mark on their arm did nothing to quell his territorial rage. The part of him that was more beast than man wanted to jump up onto the stage, grab Lovely, and clear up any possible doubts any of their guests might have had about who they belonged to. 

The other’s curiosity wasn’t so easily subdued. This always happened with new humans, and Vincent knew this but had had no time to prepare himself for the onslaught directed at them. Sure, he could snap and bark at the guests to mind their manners, but anything more than that could be misread by Will. It was a delicate balance, he found, keeping the others far enough away that they weren’t within biting range, and letting them stay close enough that it wouldn’t raise any suspicions.  

He thought about ending it early. If he dropped their trance sooner than he’d promised then that would mean a faster escape. It would also mean plunging them into the middle of reality with absolutely no warning, and he shuddered at the thought of the mental and emotional damage that could do to them. They were so fragile already that it seemed borderline abusive to do anything but allow the night to play out and then get them back upstairs before anything terrible happened. He didn’t know what terrible thing could happen, but he had a plethora of ideas swirling around in his head as he held his arm out to keep a guest from stepping right up to the stage like they usually were allowed to. 

“Is this one not on the menu tonight?” They asked him. 

“No,” he answered curtly, “they’re just a dancer, not a feeder.” 

“Shame.” 

The vampire drifted away but they did not go far. Vincent could see the greedy glint in their eyes, though, and he drew himself up to his full height. If there was going to be some kind of brawl, he’d need to get Lovely somewhere safe, first. 

At the nearest table, Will shifted in his seat and Vincent’s attention swapped over to him instead. Just as he had the last time, Will was staring quite openly, but not at Lovely. Instead, his eyes were locked on Vincent, cold and calculating. He stood as the song faded into another with a slower beat, and he cleared the distance between himself and the stage in a single step. 

“You are turning our guests away?”

“They’re not ready for free feeding, Will, they can barely tolerate this.” 

Will raised an eyebrow, “What is that tone, dear one?” 

Instead of answering him, Vincent locked his eyes on the opposite wall and let his hands fold together behind his back. He turned into a statue at the foot of the stage and glared. 

“I see,” Will said several minutes later, feigning patience, “Well, in that case, I suppose we are done here. You may leave.” 

Steely and stiff, Vincent turned and barked at Lovely to come to him. When they didn’t move, he simply went up on stage and got them, tossed them over his shoulder and carried them like that all the way into the back of the building and then to the staircase. A sniffle and jolt in their body made him freeze. 

“Lovely?”

Their body jolted again and he realized it was their breathing, hyperventilating, that was making them jerk. He set them down quickly and took their head between his hands, immediately brushing the tears on their cheeks away while he frantically searched their face. 

“You’re breathing too fast, you need to slow it down,” he said, panicked. 

They didn’t speak to him. Lovely didn’t utter a single word as tears flowed hot and fast between his fingers. Air whipped in and out of them as what started as quiet whimpers turned into harsh, gasping sobs. Their cheeks tinged red. Their eyes squeezed closed. Every time Vincent tried to speak to them, they only cried and shook harder. He started to shake, too. He didn’t know how to help them, how to calm them, how to comfort whatever was wrong. When their sobs started to echo in the small stairwell, he moved his hands over them, hunting for injuries. Maybe they’d fallen at some point or scraped their knee or pulled a muscle. His hunt left him with nothing that would cause such cries of pain. 

As he straightened, though, Lovely slammed their head into his chest, took the front of his shirt into both of their fists, and stumbled the half step forward to close the space between them. All he did was freeze, his arms held slightly away from his body as he supported them with his chest and hips. They were almost completely pressed against him and yet he felt no desire. Whatever was wrong with them was not physical, but he didn’t know if it was his magic or something else. He’d been so sure that his trance had held.

“Lovely?” he tried again, leaning forward slightly to speak directly into their ear. Their fists tightened, their breathing hitched. 

“Lovely, we need to get upstairs. Are you awake?”

“Yes,” the sound of their voice so broken made his entire body ache, but it was something. 

“Okay. When did you wake up?”
Their crying only intensified and his stomach dropped so violently he tasted bile in the back of his throat. 

“I don’t know.” 

Slowly, he put his hands on their shoulders and squeezed, “Let’s go upstairs. I’ll get you some food and a drink and we can just relax, okay?” 

“I can’t move.” 

It was easy enough to grab onto their waist and lift them as if they were a small child. They must have felt the same way because they wrapped their legs and arms around his torso and clung to him, shaking and crying, but conscious enough to speak to him when they could. That was an improvement. If they were well enough to speak to him then that meant nothing was too terribly wrong, or, at least he kept telling himself it wasn’t. 

With them clinging to his front, Vincent got them upstairs faster than usual. Not having to move at a glacial, human pace made things much easier. Part of him wanted to dump them onto the couch and then cover them with his body, block out all the bad and scary things that they were feeling with his presence and feel them relax again. He didn’t, of course, because his brain was faster than his heart, and instead, he sat down with them in his lap and let them cry. 

Hours must have passed before they started to quiet, and when they went silent, he craned his neck to look down at their face. Their eyes were closed, but not crushed shut the way they’d been earlier. Tears and a combination of snot and saliva were starting to dry on their skin. Their breathing was so fine and slow that he almost couldn’t detect it. Gently, he brushed their hair off of their forehead and guided them down onto the couch beside him. 

He traced back through the memory of the night and tried to pinpoint the exact moment they stopped shining so brightly in his mind, but came up with nothing. His attention had been spread so thinly that he’d missed the signs of his trance coming off of them. He’d failed them in the moment they’d needed him most. 

As he traced the tip of his finger over the line of their eyebrow, the sharp curve of their jaw and the soft bump on the bridge of their nose, detectable by only touch alone, he thought about erasing their memories and sending them back out into the world. There was the option to find them again, to pretend he didn’t know them, to start off on a better foot. Perhaps if they asked him to, he would see that it happened for them. The option of them asking for it but telling him not to find them, not to track them down again or watch them from afar, though, was almost worse than the guilt he carried from letting his guard down in the first place. They had his mark. How could he leave them alone after everything? 

His finger paused, poised just over the bow of their bottom lip, as they stirred. Blearily, they blinked their swollen eyes open and stared up at the ceiling. They didn’t seem to notice or care that he was touching them, and he wasn’t sure if he should be enamored by that or concerned. 

“Lovely?”

“I can’t do this anymore.” Their voice was a hoarse, gravelly thing. He wondered if they were prone to losing it. 

He nodded, already knowing what had to happen, what he would have to do, “I know. Try to get some sleep, okay? We can talk more in the morning.” He narrowed his eyes on the single, dim lamp on his desk and it shut off, plunging them into a warm sort of darkness. 

“Vincent?”  

 “Yes, Lovely?” 

“Can you sit at your desk?”

Something in him cracked open. Slowly, he rose, crossed the small room, and collapsed into the chair at the desk before kicking his feet up onto its surface. The quilt rustled as Lovely got comfortable in it and he was perfectly silent as he chewed on his lower lip to keep any of the burning in his eyes from slipping down his cheeks.

Chapter Text

Somebody was calling their name, and each time they were called, a barrage of heavy banging followed. With a groan, Jordan pushed themself up off the pitiful excuse of what their university called a mattress and stumbled the short distance to unlock and then pull their door open. 

“What-?”

Arms flung around them, tight and shaking, and they struggled to blink away the sleep from their eyes. It felt like they’d been unconscious for days. The arms that clung to them quickly were removed and then something hard stung against their cheek. 

“You fucking asshole!” 

They blinked harder, shaking their head and trying to make sense of what was happening. Finally, the brightness of the morning dimmed some and they could make out Robin’s tear-soaked face. 

“Oh, hey. Why did you slap me?”

Another crushing hug and unintelligible series of screeching followed for several minutes until they were able to pull Robin into their room and out of the doorway. The last thing they wanted was a “random” room search because of the commotion. 

“What do you mean I haven’t been answering my phone?” They asked, searching for their cell without much luck. They probably dropped it at the club the night before but they really couldn’t remember what had happened to it. 

“It’s been thirteen days, Jordan, what the fuck are you talking about?”

They hadn’t realized they’d been murmuring to themself while they searched, but they felt their cheeks heat, “Uh, nothing, I don’t understand, though, because I was at the club last night for Jackson’s birthday and then I woke up here. What did you take last night?”

Robin scoffed, obviously offended as she folded her arms and the corners of her mouth turned down in disgust, “If you fell into some kind of weird k-hole then that’s on you but the least you could have fucking done was tell somebody. What if you’d done too much and died in here? Nobody would have found you for weeks. Nobody did find you for weeks.” 

All they could do was shrug, “Listen, I really have no idea what’s happened but I’m right here and I’m literally fine.” 

“I think you should go to a hospital,” Robin snapped, “why can’t you remember anything?” 

“There’s nothing to remember,” they insisted imploringly. 

“Yeah, if this is some kind of sick fucking joke you’re meaner than I thought you were.” 

Jordan only stared at her, confused and starting to feel tendrils of fear creep up the back of their neck. Did something happen? 

“I’m sorry I scared you.” 

It was their go-to every time something like this happened, not that something this large scale ever had. A few days, sure, but they couldn’t remember if there’d ever been an instance of more than a week disappearing from their life. Sure, things before and at the club had been a little more intense than usual, and they were pretty sure they’d mixed a few things together for themself, but they weren’t feeling anything that they usually did after a night of partying. There was no tremor in their hands, no dangerous, sick feeling in their stomach. As they started thinking about it, they actually felt pretty good apart from how exhausted they were. 

Robin slowly loosened up, “Yeah, you did fucking scare me. I was about to call your parents, or-or the morgue or something, asshole. Don’t you ever fucking do that again.” 

“I think I got separated from everyone,” they said, rubbing their forehead, “I really don’t remember anything after that.” 

“Jesus, you probably got roofied. I hate that area, so much crime happens and literally nobody even cares.” 

Something about that clicked in their head and they nodded along, “Yeah, no, yeah I think that’s what happened. There was some guy-.” They winced, holding their head in both hands as a headache started to bloom in the middle of their head, pounding and sharp. 

“Okay, we’re going to a hospital.” 

“No-,” they gasped, trying to remember through the pain, “-no. I-, I don’t think anything like that happened. I just need to lay down for a bit.” 

“You’ve been laying down. For thirteen days. I’m taking you to the clinic on campus at the very fucking least.” 

They had zero say as Robin grabbed onto their arm and yanked. The sudden, bone deep pain that accompanied her tight grasp did make them break free of her. 

“Jesus fucking-,” They snarled, holding their arm up to their chest and panting as the pain in their head and their arm seemed to join forces. At once, their entire body felt like it had been hit by a truck, and this felt a lot more like how their hangovers were. 

“If you broke your arm again, I swear to god, Jordan.” 

They followed, though, despite the pain and what felt like a flu that was building like pressure at the base of their neck. It was good, though, that their dorm was only a block from the clinic, and when the receptionist looked up as they walked in, she took them to a room without making them wait the usual ten or so minutes in the lobby. 

They’d barely perched up on the exam table when a bright eyed, nervous looking doctor and an equally nervous looking nurse came in without knocking. 

“Okay, so what brings you in today?”

Robin spoke over them, “They’ve been locked in their dorm for two weeks and I’m pretty sure they got roofied at a party.” 

Betrayal was plain on their face as they glared at her, “I’m in a lot of pain. My head and my arm and my neck.” 

“We don’t have rape kits here, unfortunately, you’ll have to-.” 

“I wasn’t-. That’s not what happened.” 

“Are you sure?” 

Jordan leveled their eyes with the doctor, “Yeah, I’m pretty fucking sure, actually. I need something for my head.” 

The nurse and doctor shared a look and then the doctor looked at Robin, instead, “Two weeks, you said?”

“Yeah.” 

They were asked to stand up. Their weight, then their blood pressure and pulse were checked, and the doctor looked confused. 

“Do you know how much you usually weigh?”

“A bit less than that. Seriously, can I have something for this headache, I feel like I’m going to puke.” 

“Can you take off your sweatshirt?” 

They groaned again, pain searing down between their shoulders as they took it off. The nurse sucked in a sharp breath that she tried to cover as a cough. Jordan took in the shocked faces staring wide-eyed at them before they looked down at their chest. It wasn't their chest, though, that was so startling. It was their arm. 

In three separate places on their right arm, there were scabbed-over bite marks. More fear started to pool into their stomach. What the fuck happened to them?

“We’re not here to judge,” the doctor said, his voice timid and sheepish, “but you don’t look like you knew those were there.” 

Another harsh blow of pain went through their head and they buckled. The room went dark, and they felt like they were falling, only that feeling didn’t end. They never hit the floor. 

“-dehydrated, electrolytes are pretty low, too. When did they eat last?”

“I don’t know.” Robin was crying again. They really hated when she cried. It stressed them out. 

“Yesterday morning,” they said, sighing. Somebody was nice enough to give them something for their head. It didn’t hurt anymore. 

“Oh, you’re awake. Good. We’re running some more tests but I’m thinking this was just a hard night of partying. Does that sound right?”

They nodded, relieved when there was no pain, “Yeah. Something like that.” 

“We’re going to clean your arm up, too. That probably won’t be super comfortable, but it’s for the best. Make sure the next time you go out you know your limits, alright?” 

“Sure thing, doc.” 

That earned them a chuckle, and when they managed to open their eyes, they were staring up at the ceiling. 

“You’re a fucking asshole.” 

“I know. I’m sorry I scared you.” 

Robin huffed out a shuddering sort of sigh, “Are you okay?” 

“Feel great now.” 

“I told them to get you something for the pain before they did anything else.” 

“Thanks.” 

“Seeing you dive head first off that exam table was really fucked up, Jordan.” 

They shrugged, “I’ll pay your therapy co-pay.” 

“Yeah, you will, for the rest of the year. I also was asked about your sexual activities.” 

“Ugh," they shuddered, "consider it done.” 

Chapter Text

Vincent couldn’t be in the room with them while it happened. Originally, he was going to sit at their side and possibly hold their hand while their memories were wiped clean. This was, of course, not the usual protocol when they had to send somebody back, but usual protocol didn’t apply to Lovely. It really never had. 

His fists shook at his sides while he waited for Sam to manage the entire thing. At first, he’d been able to hear the conversation between the three people in the room, but when Lovely started to argue, to try to reason with everyone else, a ringing took over and he heard nothing else. Hours could have passed, perhaps even days, before a hand on him made him jump. 

“They’re ready for you,” Sam took his hand away as quickly as he’d set it on his shoulder, “Try not to make yourself look bad.” 

Vincent tried to take a breath but it stopped short somewhere between his nose and his throat. He shook himself, straightened, and tried not to make himself look bad. 

Even though there most definitely were other people in the room, he didn’t see them. Lovely was sitting, dazed, on the couch with the quilt piled up on their lap. They had a good handful of it in each hand and were white knuckling it. This magic was different from his trance. They didn’t have an agreeable consciousness in the empty expression they wore. It was nothing. They were nothing. It looked like they’d fallen asleep while sitting up. 

Carefully, he guided their arms around his neck and lifted them sideways against his chest. It was a bit awkward because they were dead weight, but he knew it would be for the best. He’d stay with them for as long as he could that night, and when the sun rose and chased him off and he had to leave them, he’d go back as soon as the dark allowed him to. 

The run to their college campus was not difficult. Lovely stayed perfectly still in his arms the entire time, their head lolled against his shoulder. If they weren’t breathing, he would have been worried that whatever memory fuckery was done killed them. 

He found their room by scent, it wasn’t hard in the slightest now that he’d become so acquainted with it. If he really focused, he could trace the paths they walked from their room to another building up the sidewalk, others across the quad. The mixture of the night air made it easier, somehow, to be surrounded by them in such a new way. It felt like he was stepping into their life. 

Their single window wasn’t locked. Inside, though, he could see right away that their door was. Clothes, books and half-drunk bottles of water and gatorade littered their room, far messier than he’d ever pictured it. He could tell that they had things hidden, the sweet, smoky scent not at all concealed despite its source being. 

Fortunately, their bed seemed to be the cleanest space so he couldn’t find any reason not to set them down on it. Their body melted, going completely limp as he tucked their sheet and duvet around them. It wasn’t cold, but he thought they might feel more secure with it. 

Without thinking of any of the consequences, Vincent turned and started hunting through their things. He didn’t tidy anything, but he pocketed the things he found that he didn’t want them to have anymore. Little plastic bags, three bottles of cough syrup, tiny bottles of alcohol. He took them all. 

By the end of it, he was certain he’d scrubbed through every inch of their dorm room. There was only an hour or so left of their fugue before they’d start to wake up properly. Knowing them, though, he figured he probably had more time. With his pockets and bag nearly full, Vincent leaned over their unconscious body and kissed their forehead. 

“Be good,” he whispered, “I’ll be back tomorrow night.”

Of course, Lovely didn’t answer. Their eyelids fluttered, but there was nothing else. He drew his finger over the curve of their eyebrow and down from their temple to the place in their neck where their pulse moved lazily under their skin. 

He wanted to say more, to tell them that he wouldn’t actually be leaving them and that they’d never fully be without him, but he had more work to do in their room before he let the sun send him away. Twelve days he’d spent with them, and he wasn’t about to let anything else take a bite even after his mark wore off. 

Breathing was easier as he picked his way across the room to the door. Everything in him was focused on his magic and what he could do to use it for something good. He needed them to be kept safe even when he wasn’t physically there with them. Placing wards wasn’t something he was exceptional at, but he knew his way around making sure any empowered person wouldn’t be able to walk in without him knowing. If he was stronger, he would have set something stronger, something that actually kept people like him out. He had to settle, though, even though the thought of somebody hurting them while he was on his way made his stomach churn. He didn't know where these ideas that somebody would seek them out, hurt them, take them him, came from, but he couldn't control it. He had to do everything he could to keep them safe. 

“Who-?”

He shot back to them at the sound of their voice, grabbing their outstretched hand and resting his forearm above their head as he leaned his body over theirs to keep them lying flat, “Shh, baby, don’t fight it.” 

“My head-.” 

“I know. Take a few breaths, okay? It’ll be over soon. I’ll find you again.” 

Their eyes were still closed, but their face was drawn with pain and confusion. Guilt started to ravage him. He should have been there with them when their memories were wiped. He should have held their hand and helped them understand that this was the best way, that this was what would keep them safe. 

It was too painful to stay much longer as they started to wake up. He smoothed their hair away from their forehead and kissed them again, just barely a brush of his lips across their skin before he left them, careful to lock the window on his way out. It wasn’t until he got back to the club that he realized he’d forgotten their cell phone. It stared up at him from the corner of his desk drawer. A sad, watery sort of smile tugged at him. At least he had a good excuse to go back to them in case anybody asked. 

When he returned the next night, though, their dorm was empty and dark. There was a new scent, though, lingering with theirs, one that was tart, like cherries. He followed it from the dorm up the sidewalk to what looked like a health clinic. From there, though, it got more difficult. Their scent led him in circles until he landed outside of a hospital. They were there, he knew, and the panic that had already been starting to grip him completely took over. He stepped inside. 

“Can I help you?” The nurse at the front desk had sharp, probing eyes that made him wince back. 

“I think my partner might be here. They haven’t been answering their phone.”   

The nurse raised an eyebrow, “Uh-huh, okay. And what is your partner’s name?”

Vincent raced back through his head, searching for a single scrap of anything from his deep dive into their dorm that would tell him their name. How could he be so dense that he never even asked for their name? 

“Jordan-.” 

“You know Jordan?” A mousy voice on his left made him swing his head around just a little bit too fast. He hoped he could blame the slight blur of his face on the fluorescents. 

 “Yeah, yes, I do, I just wanted to make sure they’re okay.” 

The woman looked younger than Lovely by a year or so, and her quivering ginger bob gave her a profoundly severe look. She was holding a wallet in her hands.

“Do you two know each other?” the nurse asked. The woman shook her head, but she didn’t look anything more than confused. 

“Sorry,” Vincent said quickly, “I’m not sure that they’ve told you about me. Who are you?”

“I’m Robin.” 

“Oh, yeah, duh, of course you are. Robin with the red hair.” Sweat started to break out on the back of his neck. He hadn’t anticipated having to navigate through their social connections. 

Something in her relaxed and she nodded, “How do you know Jordan?”

Vincent stepped closer to her, and he put a face to the tart cherry smell right away, “Uh, this is sort of awkward. We’ve just been on a few dates but they stopped answering my texts so I just started trying to track them down. Are they okay? They’re here, obviously, right?”

Robin’s face went pale, “Yeah, they’re alright.” 

“Did something happen? I was really confused and honestly worried because we talk almost every day.” 

“When did you see them last?”

He had to think backward and then he added a buffer just in case she was getting suspicious, “The end of last month, but we’ve been talking up until two or so weeks ago.” 

She looked away from him for a minute before she sighed, “How much do you know about their hobbies?”

Vincent blanched, the memory of the amount of stuff he took from their room fresh in his head. Some of the scents of their copious collection still clung to his skin. 

“You mean their, uh, extracurricular activities?”

“Yeah.” 

He shrugged, “I know about it, yeah. When I saw them, though, they were clean and had been for a bit. Can I see them? I’m sorry, I’m just-. I need to see them.” 

Robin didn’t say anything for a few seconds before she folded her arms across her chest, “I’m taking them home, actually, back to campus. They just got discharged.” 

“Oh, that’s great. Okay, wow, I’m sorry, I’m probably coming across as a creep.” 

“No, I understand. I’ll tell them to call you. What did you say your name was again?” 

He smiled just enough to look grateful, “I’m Vincent. But don’t worry about it, I don’t want them to feel overwhelmed with everything. I’ll reach out to them in a week or two.” He added a quick shot of trance to his words as he met her eyes and she relaxed further. 

“That’s so thoughtful of you. They would definitely think you were coming on way too strong if they knew you’d been looking for them.” 

“Good to know, thank you. As long as they’re alright then that’s all that matters.” 

“Totally. I’m going to pay for everything and then take them home.” 

Vincent waved her off, “I’ll take care of it. Don’t worry about it.” 

For a moment she looked like she was going to argue with him, but he met her eyes again and she turned and left. Knowing that Lovely was just outside made him want to go to them, to run as quickly as possible and see them with his own eyes to ensure they truly were alright. He reasoned that he’d see them soon enough. 

Once their bill was taken care of, something he had to almost literally arm wrestle the receptionist over, he went back towards campus. His plan was to stay there all night, to watch them and make sure they were adjusting back to their life and sleeping well. What he did not plan on, though, was that he was not the only person watching.

Chapter Text

The moment Adam saw the pretty little human on stage at The Parlour, he knew he had to have them. Watching the way their body moved as music bled from every speaker in the room made his mouth water and his fangs press sharply into the inside of his lower lip. Even though they were tranced like the rest of the blood bags in the room, he could tell that there was something different about them, something darker, and he could use darkness to his advantage. 

When he asked about them, though, even as politely as he could manage, he was dismissed and turned away. Vincent , he recalled the name with disdain, always acted so high and mighty around the club that Adam desperately wanted to knock him down a peg. It was a deep desire to show him that Adam could have his cake and eat it, too, that he would not be denied the few pleasures that this life afforded him. 

That night, though, he watched, transfixed, as Vincent picked the human up into his arms and gazed at them so longingly, so affectionately, and it sealed the deal. Previous to seeing that expression, it was only about getting something that Vincent wouldn’t let him have. After, though, it was about punishing him. 

Adam vowed to frequent The Parlour more often, but after their time on stage, the little sweet human was nowhere to be seen. Even their scent around the club had all but disappeared by the next night. When Vincent left the club looking morose and sulky, Adam followed him. At first, he stayed back far enough to not be detected, but when Vincent was nearly crushed by a city bus, he took a chance and got closer. It seemed that the Prince of The Parlour was less aware of his surroundings than he’d originally anticipated. So, Adam stayed back only a couple hundred feet from him, slinking through the edges of shadows to stay somewhat hidden in case he had a change of heart and did start paying attention, though Adam doubted this would happen very much. 

At first, they went to a college campus, one Adam had never hunted at. It was usually brightly lit and busy, and this night was no different. Students were spread out on the vast lawns, blankets and towels thrown about as they smoked and drank alcohol out of disguised soda bottles and cans. He had no interest in them. Vincent led him to a large, concrete building that was a hub of scents. A dorm, he thought, possibly. 

They didn’t stay long, though. Vincent barely paused before he took off again and then the chase was back on. They went all over the campus, and then left it. Adam had to exert himself a bit more than he had been to keep up as they moved through the city for a few blocks before he pulled up short and leaned sideways into a large hedge to avoid being seen. A hospital glowed in the gloomy night. 

Even as far away as he was, he could hear Vincent speaking in the waiting room. Then, a woman came out and went to a car that was running not far from the front door. Adam turned his attention to that, instead, and when they slid past his hiding spot, he saw them sitting in the front seat. Their blood was fresh, drying on a piece of gauze in the back of their hand. They were so close to being in his grasp that he thought about ripping them from the open passenger side window then and there, at least until he remembered that Vincent hadn’t left the waiting room yet and would most likely see him. Even though he wanted to get what he wanted, he wasn’t going to risk himself to do it. He’d have to be more clever than that. 

It was easy to keep up with the beat up station wagon. Adam was almost certain it was not capable of going faster than forty miles per house, and that was slower than even his casual run. He did pride himself on how fast he could be when it mattered. 

He followed them back to the college campus and then to the room the sweet one stayed in. Everything inside would be soaked in their scent, and his mouth watered at the thought of being so surrounded by it that he could smell nothing else. He’d sooner steal them away in the middle of the night than wait any longer to be away from them. 

“You.”

Adam shot sideways, skidding through gravel to put space between himself and the sharp voice that he’d been so hoping to avoid. He looked over at Vincent with disdain, “Well, this is less fun now.” 

“What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing. You let the mouse out of the trap.” 

Vincent tried to move closer, but Adam jumped back another few feet. He wasn’t going to let him get anywhere near him. Even though Adam knew he was much smarter than Vincent, he didn’t think he’d win if it came to a physical fight. 

“What do you want with them?”

He grinned. It was always such asinine questions; it felt impossibly cliche. 

“What does anyone want with anyone these days?” He didn’t wait to hear if Vincent could answer his question. Now that he knew where the human stayed he could come back. Even if he was sure Vincent wouldn’t make it easy for him, he had no doubt in his mind that he’d outsmart the Prince. After all, he was no stranger to getting what he wanted when he wanted it.

Chapter Text

Jordan stretched as their alarm started going off. It was still dark in their room, but they slapped their hand around until they slammed it down on top of the fifteen dollar Target clock that sat squat and angry on their nightstand. Their head was absolutely pounding, but they needed to get up and go to class. It was unclear how far behind they’d become and even if they ended up getting D’s that would be better than nothing. If they could just ace their finals then maybe it wouldn't matter and they could end with C’s or B’s, if they really tried hard. Their mind started to wander to extra credit opportunities as they felt blindly around for the switch on their lamp. When they pressed it, though, the light did not turn on. Swearing they tripped their way across the room to the light switch on the wall, but they only made it half-way before their body seized and they dropped to the floor right on their face. One of their shoes pressed sharply into their nose and eye, and when they tried to push themself up, their arms wouldn’t move. 

Air barely flowed in and out of them despite how hard their body started to fight to hyperventilate. A crushing weight bore down on them until the last bit of oxygen was pushed out and the world went somehow darker. Like waking from a dream in which they were falling, Jordan shot back into their body at what felt like over a hundred miles an hour. Their eyes flew open, but they were no longer prone on the floor of their dorm room. There was no bite of metal eyelet against their skin from a forgotten tennis shoe. 

Their eyes adjusted slowly to the dim room around them. All they could really see were two adjoining walls and a single boarded up window set high up on the left wall. Whatever they were propped up against didn’t allow for them to turn their head either way, so the view they had, they were stuck with. As they got used to the low light, they could make out the shape of their legs, thrown out in front of them and distinctly bent in a way that made their stomach tighten with nausea. There was no pain, though, not from being dumped against a wall and not from the odd angles of their body. They hoped it was all just a trick of the light or something even less reasonable. 

Instead of focusing on their body, they tried to make sense of what had happened. One minute, they were getting up for class and worrying about their grades and seemingly the next they were here, wherever that was. They tried to recall anything that had been off or different, and other than the lights not working, there was nothing. Their alarm went off as it always did. There weren’t any odd smells or noises, no indication that there was anything else in their room other than them. 

Jordan tried to scowl but their face didn’t move. They’d definitely thought anything and not anyone. Their mind turned over itself as they tried to figure out why they would think that word specifically. A sharp jab of pain went right through the center of their head, tears in their eyes, they went back to their room. Nothing had been different or out of place, though they really couldn’t recall seeing anything as it had been pitch dark inside. That tickled something, though, and they tried to recall the last time they’d woken up in their dorm. There hadn’t been any need to turn on their lamp or the overhead light. In fact, they’d woken up before their alarm even went off because of how bright the sun shone in through their window. 

They got stuck there, though. What did it matter that the sun wasn’t up when their alarm had gone off? There could have been any number of explanations as to why it was so dark. Maybe they’d accidentally set their alarm for PM instead of AM. 

They were jolted from their thoughts as a door jerked open just out of sight somewhere to their left. Desperately, they tried to turn their head but it wouldn't move. 

“Well, don’t you look scrumptious.” 

Their head was shoved down toward their shoulder and then there was nothing but sharp, hot pain coursing through them. They wanted to scream, to claw at whoever was holding their head so tightly, and get as far away from them as possible. Even as their lips parted a centimeter or two, no sound left them. Their fingers didn’t so much as twitch. The pain burned down to a pinching sort of ache, and that was when they felt something cool and slimy lapping at the side of their neck. 

“I knew you would be good,” the voice said, “but I had no idea you would be this good.” 

Air whistled between their teeth as they managed to suck in a breath. It did nothing to ease their pain, nor did it help the way their head was starting to spin. Even though they couldn’t move at all, they could feel their chest and forehead starting to get clammy. It felt like their face was going cold. 

Their eyelids fluttered as a face slid into view. Silver eyes glowed in the low light, familiar in some way though they couldn’t place it, nor did they have the energy to go searching through their mind again. Their skin stung along the side of their neck and their vision was starting to blur, whether from tears or something worse, they didn't know. The last thing they saw before they were taken by the darkness again was a pair of long, fang-like teeth as the ghostly face in front of them grinned.

Chapter Text

The panic that poured through Vincent’s entire body when he found their dorm room empty the next night rivaled all else. For a moment, he was so petrified with fear and worry that he couldn’t move. Their window was dark, and even still, he could make out the mess inside. Not the normal mess, though, something far more sinister that made his fear start to peak. The lamp on their bedside table was knocked over and the lightbulb was missing. On the ceiling, he could just make out the fixture and it, too, was missing its lightbulb. 

For the briefest moment, he thought about tracking down the girl Lovely was friends with, the one who smelled like bitter cherry. That, though, would take precious time away from his search for them, and even if it was all some strange coincidence and they were out partying again, he had to find them; he had to see them with his eyes for confirmation that they were just back to their old ways. If that was the case, it was all the better. He could take them again and make sure that they were safe for the rest of their life. Even though it felt delusional, he fantasized almost immediately about buying a house on the opposite side of town from the club and keeping them there away from Adam and any other nobody who thought they could slip past him to get to Lovely. 

A wave of anger burned through his fear. Maybe Adam was to blame for their sudden disappearance. He could have led them astray, manipulated them into going out with him, into using again, possibly. Though he was used to seeing him around the club, Vincent didn’t really know him well enough to say whether or not he’d lure Lovely out or if he’d just grab them. From the state of their room, though, it looked like they’d at least put up a fight. That made him swell with some amount of pride, or it would when he wasn’t caught between being ready to scorch the earth and wanting to curl up under a rock and cry. 

The anxiety passed, quickly replaced by the anger that was building in its place. He’d find them if it was the last thing he did. 

Vincent focused on their scent, finding Adam’s dusty, bloody smell lingering with it, and he took off in the direction that it was strongest. He doubted that Adam would go far, he was weak and a coward, and if Lovely was with him, which, from their scents being so closely intertwined he didn’t doubt in the slightest, then he’d be slower and more conspicuous. With this in mind, Vincent moved faster. If he could get to them in time, maybe they wouldn’t be hurt, maybe he could save them before anything bad happened. His legs started to burn as he pushed harder. 

Their scents abruptly ended at the end of a dead end road. There was running water somewhere ahead, but otherwise there was only forest. Overgrown ferns shook their tendrils of leaves at him, mocking and cruel. There was no more scent, no hint of either of them on the breeze that shook the tops of the old pine trees. He thought about doubling back, retracing his steps and trying again, when there was a noise. 

Somewhere, at least within a fourth of a mile of where he stood, somebody had cried out. His body moved before his mind and he dove head first into the river, slicing his way through as he sought the opposite bank. 

He was sucking on the inside of their bicep. Jordan’s mind swam as they tried to focus on the mess of greasy hair so near their face they could smell it. Or, they could have, if they could feel their face. Everything, every inch of them, was uncomfortably tingly. It was so intense that they felt like they were vibrating. Pain had long since become so common that they were starting to not even tense when the man did whatever it was he was doing to them; biting or something like it. Jordan, too exhausted to try to fight him off even if it was possible, resigned themself. They would probably die here, wherever here was, and, like Robin said, nobody would find their body for weeks. When they were found, would anyone know what happened to them? Would they make something up to explain it all away? Maybe they’d be painted as some kind of out of control junkie who’d done anything to get high. What would their parents say?

Jordan always struggled to some degree. It was worse, though, in high school, where they fully decided that smoking weed and taking a wide variety of pills at parties was more fun than not. The pressure of school and their home life would disappear for a few hours, and that was incredibly helpful. Even still, their grades didn’t slip. They had dinner with their parents every weeknight. It was manageable. Then, though, when they moved for college and found even more things that were available for them to do, clubs they could sneak into, drinks they could down and have the effects of whatever they took heightened, things sort of changed. Sure, their grades were acceptable, for the most part, but there was nothing else. There were no home cooked meals, or consistent meals at all, really. When they went back for breaks, their parents were too full of pride to see through the flimsy character they played in front of them; they were none the wiser to what was going on. 

They supposed, on some level, that they deserved this. There had been a lot of times when they’d been cruel to Robin, their only friend from high school who chose the same college as them, because of everything. They lied to her, cheated on her, too, when they’d tried dating, but even when they broke her heart, she stayed by them and even introduced them to the friends she made while they were busy with their head in a toilet or passed out on the three inch thick mattress in their dorm room. They’d been the furthest thing from a saint, and being kidnapped by some freak who liked to bite them felt appropriate. As they’d stolen Robin’s time and energy, now this guy was stealing their blood. Or, that was their running theory. All they really knew was that they were getting colder with each passing hour and the parts of their skin they could see between the angry red bite marks were so pale they were almost yellow. 

There was also the matter of their limbs. Though there was no pain, they were certain that if they lived long enough they would start to feel it. During their time in the strange little room, they’d decided that their legs were probably broken, or at least badly dislocated in at least their hips and knees, and their wrists and elbows were about the same. Watching as the hinge of their elbow dangled while the man sucked on their bicep was nauseating on its own, but paired with the pleasured grunts he kept making was truly pushing them to the edge of vomiting all over themself. They wondered if there was enough food in their stomach to vomit in the first place. 

He pulled back and they followed him with their eyes as he ran his tongue along his lips, a disjointed smile lopsided his expression. There was no use pretending not to stare at him, and when he caught them, they didn’t look away. Jordan wanted him to know that they were watching him, that they were still somewhere in their body, conscious and somehow still hideously alive despite what he was doing to them. 

“I was hoping that I’d get to hear you scream,” he lamented. 

Let me speak, they willed him, narrowing their gaze on him to the best of their ability. The little energy they had left was waning, but telling him to fuck off with their eyes felt worth it. 

It felt like a tension in their throat lessened and then disappeared. Shock froze them and before they could even begin to figure out if he could somehow read their mind or if they were hallucinating because how could he have any control over their body in that way at all, his fist slammed into their stomach and all the air was pushed out of them. 

Heaving, their arm flopped uselessly as he dropped it. Pain shot through it, real and solid and tangible. They gasped again, choking and hacking as a full breath rushed into them for the first time in hours. Their mouth tasted like iron and putrid dirt. 

“Scream for me,” he said, shoving his face close to theirs, so close they could feel his breath chill their face.

They tried to breathe in again, to call for help, to do anything to fight him off, but even though they could breathe and cough they couldn’t move anything else. The rest of them was still frozen on the ground. 

He grabbed their hair in his fist and yanked their head back, following the motion of it so their noses stayed touching, “I said, scream.” 

Jordan didn’t need prompting. He dug his fingers into the mark he’d left on their arm, pushing into the wound and stretching it out with the pad of his thumb. Their first scream was weak, but he let off and encouraged them to try again. His eyes were wild, flitting over their face and slowly growing brighter with more and more rage. The immediate, sharp burn of pressure from his fingers caught them off guard and they did what he wanted. They filled their raw lungs with air and screamed. Earlier, they thought that screaming would help ease some of the pain from his biting, but it didn’t. The only thing that screaming made them do was make their throat just as raw as their lungs felt. 

He bit them again, digging in hard to the thin skin on their wrist until they screamed again. Darkness was starting to creep in around the edges of their vision, and they knew they were dying. It was actually happening. They’d be called a freak when they were found so covered in the imprints of this guy’s teeth. 

It overtook them quickly after that. The cold and the dark and the final release from pain. It felt like dimming a light or blowing out a candle but watching as the wick still glowed as it cooled. That was how they felt: fading. There were no emotions that came with it, there was nothing left of them to feel anything more than the aching relief of not being in pain anymore. They’d always heard that hearing was the last sense to leave when somebody died, and their ears filled with the sound of pleasured grunting. They were glad they couldn’t see him anymore. Dying with the sound of him was enough. 

Then, though, just as it was all really starting to fade, there was a crash, then a deafening sort of crack. They finally slipped just as somebody called out their name.

Chapter Text

The air in the bedroom was cool and still as their eyes slowly fluttered beneath their eyelids. Vincent watched, barely breathing and certainly not moving, as they sighed and then, slowly, they turned their head as if they were searching even in sleep. 

He hadn’t had enough time with them before to get a bed, but he certainly had now, plus the apartment. It didn’t take much time at all to set everything up while they were held in suspended consciousness by Sam. Vincent owed him too many favors now to count them properly, and he knew that one day, Sam would call on him to repay it all. But, for now, Lovely was alive in their bed in their apartment and they were never going to be taken from him ever again. 

Under the fine, satin sheets, their chest gently rose and fell as if to confirm their existence. Sam did his best, Vincent knew, but they’d be scarred for the rest of their life even with all the magic he was willing to pour into them. All things considered, it was a low dose, given their historical reactions, but it was enough to close up all the open wounds and mend their bones. That was the worst part, in Vincent’s opinion, and he shuddered at the still-fresh memory of seeing their joints snap back together as if they were some kind of collapsable novelty toy moving in reverse. 

He knew that he’d have to come up with some way of explaining everything. Lying to them was, of course, an option. Perhaps he could have some memories returned, little snippets of their interactions to lead them to think they’d been dating, like Vincent told their friend. If he could concoct the perfect collection of memories, he was sure that it would feel disjointed, sure, but it would make sense in their mind. Or, he hoped it would. 

Before Sam left, he said that they had four or so hours before he expected Lovely would wake up, and Vincent set his mind to the task of explanation while they rested. He could always be truthful, a thought that came to him when his mind eventually stalled out. How to explain everything in a truthful way, though, while also making sure they understood that they couldn’t leave, was illusive. He didn’t want to cause them more mental anguish than they’d already endured, but he also couldn’t allow them to be open to new opportunities for mental anguish. They needed to be tucked away in bed for at least two weeks, possibly more, before he’d let them do anything on their own, anyway. If he could just help them, or make them understand how important it was that they not try to leave then perhaps the truth would be the correct answer. He wanted to be honest, to not hide anything, and yet he found that when he tried to put the words together his tongue glued itself to the roof of his mouth. 

Four and a half hours later, Lovely’s eyes blinked open. For a while, they only stared up at the ceiling, and Vincent worried that maybe the magic was too much and had permanently addled their fragile mind. Slowly, though, as if they were isolating each bone in their neck, they turned to look at him as if pulled directly by a string. 

“Hello,” he said quietly, readying himself in case they tried to shoot up and run. Lovely didn’t, though, they barely blinked at him. Their expression remained smooth, so blank that his worry for their mind increased. 

The sheet that was tucked around their chest rose higher than it had previously as they pulled in a deep breath, “I know you.” 

Their voice was just as cracked and broken as their body was previous to Sam’s work on them. It was dry, rough in a way that Vincent hadn’t heard it, not even when they were at the club. He wanted to offer them water, but he knew he’d have to gain their trust again. After all, they were in a place they didn’t know with a stranger. Their words registered barely a second later, though, and he shook his head. 

“You shouldn’t know me.” 

“I do,” they said, eyes snapping shut for a few seconds before opening again, “I saw you in my dreams.” 

Vincent, a knife of fear plunging through his center at the thought of what answer he’d receive, asked, “You’ve seen me in your dreams?”

Grimacing, they swallowed thickly and then shifted one of their legs, “Couple of times.” 

“Tell me.” 

It did feel wrong to demand anything of them when they were still so weak and clearly so out of it, but he did anyway. Some things felt more important to take advantage of even if they were still healing. 

Their eyes shut again and he felt a certain amount of frustration grip the back of his neck until they spoke, even with their eyes closed and through having to stop to take those deep breaths, “I dream I’m in a room with a couch and a desk and you’re there holding my hand, telling me everything will be alright. There’s something you have that I need but I never find out what it is. I wake up before I know.” 

He considered this. There was no fear in their scent, only he couldn’t tell if that was a byproduct of Sam’s sedation or if they could feel the bonds of trust from their time together even if they had no real memories of why that was. He also hadn’t prepared for them to bring up the trance or his bite or anything having to do with what he could do for them. After all, when that conversation took place, he’d been taking a jab at them more than anything, finding a weak link in their armor to secure himself in. It hadn’t been right, of course, but he needed them to need him the way he needed them. 

“I have something you like , not need.” 

At that, they met his eyes even though theirs kept threatening to close again, “What do you have for me?”

“Not today,” he said, trying to stay gentle. It would be a good idea to try to tell them everything while they weren’t strong enough to fight back in any way, but he also didn’t want to overwhelm them and cause some kind of damage. 

They smacked their lips together and focused on the wall just beside him, “Why do I want you closer to me?”

“We were close,” he admitted, a small piece of truth that he didn’t think would hurt. It was also impossible not to share with them how much he adored them. 

“Were?”

“We had to be apart for a while, but we’re together again.” 

Another slow, deep breath, then, “Are we supposed to be together?”

When he didn’t answer right away, they struggled to open their eyes and find him. A deep ache pulled his sternum downwards at the thought that they were trying to make sure he was still there with them. 

“I’m here,” he said, hoping to ease their worry, “that’s a hard question.” 

“Why?”

“I think we’re supposed to be together.” 

When they went to blink their eyes didn’t open again, “Do I not? I can’t remember.” 

“That’s what makes it difficult. I don’t know how you felt most of the time.” 

“I’m bad at that.” 

He couldn’t help the weak, sad smile that turned the corners of his lips upwards, “You weren’t exactly in your right mind at the time.” 

“I’m sober now, I think,” they said, blinking hard as they forced their eyes open again. Part of him wished they’d just rest.

“You are. I, uh, dumped your stash the last time I took you home.” 

To his surprise, they snorted and smirked at him, “You’re not the first. Was that a big issue for us? Me using, I mean.” 

He shrugged, weighing whether or not he wanted to tell them that they liked what he could offer them much better than anything else. 

“Not a big deal, then?” They asked. 

Vincent shook his head, “Not exactly.” 

“I could go for something now. I feel like I got hit by a truck.” 

They were starting to sound more awake, more like the Lovely that he knew and adored. That made the ache lessen some but not enough to chase it away completely. If they were getting stronger then he needed to keep his eye on them even closer. 

“I don’t have anything,” he said, apologetic, “except maybe some tylenol.”

Lovely made a face, “Not what I had in mind.” 

“Yeah, I figured.” 

“What did I do this time?” 

“Not today,” he repeated, shaking his head, “this is enough for today.” 

They looked around again, their eyelids staying mostly open as they took in the rest of the room, “Where are we?”

“Somewhere safe.” 

They settled some, relaxing back into the absolute mountain of pillows that supported not only their head but their shoulders, arms, back, hips, and ankles, too. He wanted them to heal properly and be as comfortable as possible. 

“A hospital?” they asked, though they didn’t sound like it was a serious guess. 

“Not exactly. Makeshift, maybe.” 

They nodded, then winced, “Something really bad happened, didn’t it?”

“It was a really close call.” 

“You sound upset,” they said, meeting his eyes again. Whatever memory they had of him clearly didn’t include anything about the trance, unless this was their subconscious way of asking for it. He wouldn’t give it to them, even if they suddenly remembered and asked him right then, he would say no. Or, he hoped he would. 

“I’m staying composed so I don’t stress you out, but I am upset.” 

“At me? Did I go off and do something stupid?”

“No,” he said, his grip on his emotions slipping a little bit as his tone turned sharp, “you didn’t do anything wrong. I wasn’t careful enough with you.” 

Their brow furrowed, “Did you hurt me?”

“No,” he said again, “I should be held responsible, though. Because I wasn’t careful with you, I put you at risk and that risk allowed for somebody else to take you from me.” 

Lovely scowled, then, their mouth turning downwards as their nostrils flared, “I was taken?”

“We really shouldn’t talk about this right now.” 

Their expression smoothed some, “I guess we don’t have to, but we will eventually, right?”

“Right.” 

“When?”

“When you’re more healed,” he settled on, hoping that it was vague enough to not give them too solid of a timeline. He was worried that if he gave them a number of days they would focus too much time and energy on that instead of getting better. 

There was a sharpness in their eyes when they looked at him, something almost dark lingering just behind their flat expression, “Do we actually know each other?”

“Yes.” 

“Prove it.” 

He raised an eyebrow, “How would you like me to prove it to you?”

“Were we dating?”

The face he made was completely involuntary as he shifted his head from side to side, “I think we were sort of heading in that direction.” 

“Did we fuck?”

Their sudden expletive made him freeze, head half turned to one side, “No.” 

“You sure about that?” Lovely’s eyes narrowed on him even more sharply. 

“We never did anything like that. We’ve never even kissed.” 

“So, what, we dated a little bit?”

Vincent sighed as he sat back in his chair and stretched his legs out, “Yeah, you could say that. We’re familiar with each other, I think you can feel that.” 

It looked like a wall dropped down behind their eyes as they shifted again, “Is my dream real?”

“I think it’s a memory, yes.” 

“Why don’t I remember anything else, then? What is that room, is it even real?”

“My office. At a club I work at. Very real.” 

Realization turned them somehow paler, “You work at a club?”

“Can we please talk about this later?” 

“Tell me.” 

He steeled himself and leveled his eyes with theirs, matching their disdained expression, “I work at a very exclusive club. For a really short period of time, you worked with me. I got you clean. You went home one night and didn’t come back when you were supposed to so I went and found you and brought you here to get better.” 

“I don’t remember.” 

“You wouldn’t.” 

They shrank quickly as if they’d been struck, grimacing and shaking all at once in a matter of half-seconds, “Fuck.” 

Vincent was up and across the room before they could so much as gasp again, and he put his hands on either side of their head, pressing lightly but with enough pressure to hold them still. 

“What hurts?”

“My head,” they cried, twisting the rest of their body up as they tried to gasp in more air, to breathe through whatever was happening. 

Without thinking, he guided their face up and rubbed his thumb across their cheek, “Lovely, look at me.” 

It was barely a single dribble of magic, but it was enough to counter the pain that took them over. Their muscles relaxed, laying flat on the pillows once more as he took to massaging their temples. 

“What was that?” they asked, their words moving slowly again. 

“That thing I do that you like so much.” 

Lovely’s eyes slid closed, their breathing evened out some, but it only lasted a few minutes before they met his eyes again, searching.

“I’m right here.” 

“Why do I feel so panicked when I can’t see you?”
“We were close,” he repeated, moving his fingers deftly into their hair to work into the thin muscles that rainbowed over their ears. 

An appreciative-sounding grunt slipped past their lips as they relaxed further, “That feels really good.” 

“Good. This is all I can do for you moving forward. No more of that thing you like so much.” 

“Why not?”

“You like it too much,” he said, “I don’t want you to transfer one addiction to another.” 

Their eyebrows started to squeeze together but they stopped half-way, “But it feels so good.” 

“I know.” 

“Does it always feel good?”

Vincent rolled his eyes as he moved his hands back towards the front of their head, careful not to catch their hair in the process, “I make sure it feels good, yes.” 

“What else do you do that feels good?”

He paused, looking back down from where his eyes had traveled up the opposite wall as he’d focused on working the tension out of them. Lovely was looking up at him, a devious sort of glint in their eyes. 

“We’re not going to flirt while you’re healing,” he said flatly. 

“We were close?”

“Yes.” 

“I can feel that,” they said, shifting their head back and forth into his touch. Apparently, his pause in their massage was not acceptable, so he started again. 

“You can feel that we were close?”

“Mhm,” they hummed, “closer than friends.” 

He reasoned that that was probably true. Robin had bought that they’d been casually dating, maybe Lovely felt similarly about their situation. There really wasn’t a more human way to describe what they’d been. 

“Yeah, you could say that.” 

“I-,” their cheeks turned slightly pink and he was just glad they had enough blood in them to blush in the first place, “I think I was really into you.” 

His fingers froze again, “Oh?”

“You lied, though.” 

Cold sweat immediately broke out across the back of his neck as it felt like his stomach dropped out of his body. They knew. They absolutely knew and now they were going to tell him something insane like they had a tracked on them and the police would be there any minute and then he’d had to kill an entire police department, move across the world, go into hiding for at least twenty to thirty years, and then return, the ashamed, disgraced son of William Solaire, and then-. 

“You said we never kissed. You kissed me all the time.” 

Vincent felt himself deflate. 

“O-Oh. Uh, yeah, I guess I did. Not on the lips, though, not ever like that.” 

“It would have been okay if you had,” they said softly, “I like you enough that it would be okay.” 

His cold sweat quickly turned hot, “I said no flirting.” 

A soft, innocent smile warmed their face up further, “This isn’t flirting.” 

“It is.” 

“No,” they argued quietly, “I’m just letting you know.” 

He gulped, fingers slipping as he took his hands away from them, “I don’t think we should be letting each other know anything for right now.” 

“Why not?”

“Nothing good will happen from it.” 

Lovely met his eyes steadily, “Do you not want me?”

There had never been anything further from the truth. Nothing on earth was as wrong as their statement and he felt his control slip just a little bit more as he scowled witheringly down at them. 

“ I want you to be strong and healthy before we talk about this anymore.” 

They didn’t seem put off in the slightest as they kept that sweet little smile plastered across their face, “Did we fight a lot?”

The wind was immediately knocked out of his sails, “No, never.” Because I kept you in a perpetual state of obedience so you couldn’t fight me. He left the last bit off. It felt too honest. He didn’t want them to know how bad he was. 

“That would be a first. My last boyfriend-,” they stopped short, wincing and shifting again, “-he was a real dick.” 

“You should rest.” 

The snorted, completely humorless, “Give me whatever it is I like and I will.” 

Vincent pursed his lips as he scowled. They searched for him again, and he reminded them that he was still right there. 

“I’m really uncomfortable,” they said, shifting again, “and you won’t tell me why. The least you could do is give me something to take the edge off.” 

“Describe your pain for me.” 

“Achy, like every joint in my body is swollen and inflamed.” 

He narrowed his eyes and tried to judge whether or not they were telling the truth. As inconspicuous as he could, he texted Sam as he turned and sat back down in his chair near their feet. He needed to know if they really could be in pain this soon or if they were playing it up to get what they wanted. 

“I’m not a damn babysitter,” Sam texted back a minute later, “but they lost a lot of blood. Knock them out or something before they hurt themself moving around too much.” 

Vincent pinched the bridge of his nose, a habit he knew he’d never break. When he stood again, Lovely looked up at him right away, not bothering to hide their excitement in the slightest. 

“This is on doctor’s orders, only, okay?” 

“You’ll do it?” 

He nodded once, his jaw tensing and relaxing a couple of times as he fought to maintain control of himself.

“What is it, exactly? Some kind of hypnotism?”

Vincent felt stupid. He should have thought of that. 

“Yeah, sort of.” 

“I’m ready.” 

He met their eyes and it felt more intimate than it had in a long time. They were reaching out, trusting him, like they had before only now it was truly them and not just something his trance encouraged. 

“I can’t do too much more for you.” 

“Why?”

They’d gone with hypnotism, so he used more words that he knew they’d understand and, hopefully, heed. 

“You’ve overdosed on this before.” When they looked startled, he let his magic sink into them a little bit at a time until the exact moment he could see them slip away from themself. They were boneless, eyes rolling with ecstasy. Vincent winced. Maybe he’d been a little too happy to make them comfortable. 

“Fuck,” they sighed, the word barely having any shape to it, “this is so good.” 

“Don’t get used to it,” he chided gently, “go to sleep now.” 

“Okay, Vincent.” 

“You remember my name?” But they were already asleep, soft puffs of air sending the weak sweetness of their scent up into his face.

Chapter Text

“I’d like to offer you a trade,” Vincent said quietly. Lovely was picking at a piece of toast, not really eating it but also not ignoring it entirely. It was an improvement from the day before when they couldn’t sit up on their own let alone eat without him spooning the broth into their mouth himself. He’d take them picking at toast. 

They looked up and met his eyes, still blinking sleep from their eyes, “Oh?”

“I’ll fill in some blanks for you if you fill some in for me.” 

Their toast took some more prodding and tearing before they nodded, “Yeah, okay.” 

Victory burned in his chest but so did some amount of nerves. He’d carefully selected the things he was going to tell them, and he hoped that they wouldn’t question him too in depth about them. He was willing to share some things, but others would need to be gone over later, if at all. Some things, he thought, were better forgotten.

“Do you remember going to the hospital a few days ago?” he prompted. 

“Yeah, Robin took me.” 

“I was there that night, too. I met her in the lobby, actually, and made sure your visit got paid for.” 

They blanched, “You have to break that down for me, what?”

“That was the same day I brought you home for the first time,” he said, “and when I came back to check on you, you were gone. I went looking for you and ended up at the ER as you were leaving.” 

“You didn’t say anything to me that night,” they said, confusion making them scowl. It was an adorable expression but he pushed those feelings aside. 

“No, Robin told me that you’d think I was coming on too strong if you knew I’d tracked you down.” 

“She hasn’t said anything to me about meeting you, though.” 

Vincent shrugged, “I didn’t explicitly tell her not to tell you. She must have thought it would be better if you got to tell her about me yourself.”  

Their face slowly fell, “But I didn’t know you were real, then. I wouldn’t have said anything because she’d think I was insane.” 

“Interesting,” he said, pausing for a moment before he shook himself and went on, “My question is why did you end up in the ER?”

“Robin forced me. I couldn’t remember anything and she thought-.” They broke off, their cheeks warming to a rosy pink. 

“What?”

“She thought something really bad happened to me.” 

A pang of guilt bounced around in his chest. He supposed, in truth, something bad did happen, and it was still entirely his fault. The admission of that would need to wait, though, if he ever came clean in the first place, which he sincerely was not planning on doing. 

“Something really bad?” he echoed, watching the way they looked at anything but him. 

“Yeah,” they said, “like, she thought that I got roofied and, uh, well..” Them trailing off immediately knotted his stomach up. Icy rage flowed through him at once. 

“Nobody touched you. I never even touched you.”

“I know,” they said, nodding but still not looking at him, “I think I would know if anything happened. Even if I didn’t remember. My body would know.” 

“I swear to you,” Vincent said, kneeling down at the edge of their bed, “nothing ever happened. Nothing like that.” 

“Something did, though,” they met his eyes finally and they were absolutely burning, “tell me what happened to me.” 

Air whistled down his throat, the oxygen bringing no relief to the aching tightness in his chest. He looked into them, searching for the right answer as if they would tell him. The truth was all they were interested in, he knew, and yet giving that to them felt harder than anything else did so far. 

“You didn’t mesh well with the lifestyle.” 

At once their expression went flat, “What?”

“There are-, well. The thing I do that you like so much?”

“Yeah, what about it?”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “It would be so much easier if I could just tell you. ” 

“Tell me what?”

The tension in their voice rose as their frustration did. Two parts of him split his mind down the middle. On one hand, he wanted to outright tell them what he was and what had happened, and the other was screaming to lie. 

In the end, Vincent sat up slightly higher so they’d be able to see him properly and he opened his mouth. When he first was turned, the feeling of his fangs sliding down and elongating made him shudder. It took years for him to get used to the feeling, and even at that point, he only managed to just push the violent trembling down and under thumb. 

“I don’t-.” He suppressed the shudder just in time to cut them off. Their eyes widened and he watched, guilt-stricken even more thoroughly, as the color drained from their face in response to seeing his half-inch-long fangs descend. 

Chapter Text

The apartment was quiet for three days before Jordan looked up from a bowl of cereal and met his eyes, “I’m going to flunk out if I can’t go to my classes.” 

Their stomach was in knots, twisting and tying itself around and around while they tried to keep their expression impassive. Being around him was comforting, and that comfort scared them because they couldn’t explain it. Coworkers didn’t inherently trust each other with their lives, did they? 

“Are you asking to go back to school?” His voice ran through them in swaths of silky fabric in their ears. They wanted to take it back almost immediately, but they couldn’t betray themself like this anymore. He was good to them, sure, and it didn’t seem like he even wanted anything from them despite having them all to himself and fully alone, but they needed their life back, at least to some degree. If it was even possible anymore. They were starting to lose hope, and that’s what spurred them on. 

“At least my classes. You could take me there and pick me up.” 

He seemed to consider this from where he lingered around the edges of the kitchen, always touching a counter as if he was physically tethering himself to the room. Their eyes traced along the curve of his nose to his lips and then back up to meet his gaze. Something about meeting his eyes made him relax the tense way he held his shoulders, like it was comforting to him to be perceived directly. 

“What time are your classes at?”

The words fell from him in a rush of breath, and they wondered if he was being as cautious as they were about the whole thing. Maybe he was nervous, too. They could work with nervousness. 

They prattled off their schedule to him, recounting the classes and times with careful precision. Most of them were in the afternoon or evening, save for the one math class they had to take that only had an eight a.m. slot available when they signed up months prior. It was unfortunate, but if they didn’t pass at least that one and the english class they had on Monday and Thursday evenings, then they would have to retake them next semester and waste more money on classes they didn’t like. 

He looked pained when they mentioned the math class, though the wince lessened as they went through the rest. 

“How do you pay for school?” he asked. 

“Uh, financial aid and a scholarship.” 

He considered this, nodding as he crept further along the length of the counter, “I would be okay with the evening classes. I don’t-,” he paused, wincing uncomfortably again, “-I can’t go out any earlier than that and I need to be around campus to protect you.” 

“Protect me from what?”

Every part of him froze and they couldn’t help but cringe away. It was difficult enough to wrap their mind around what they knew was the truth, they’d been avoiding it at every possible turn, but when he did things that made what he was so obvious they couldn’t ignore the truth: he wasn’t like them, he was barely human to begin with. Fear settled in a pit in their stomach. 

“Others like me.” His voice was barely a whisper, one that sounded like he shared a similar pit in his stomach. 

“There are more like you?”

“Adam was like me.” 

Ice shot through them, sharp and burning cold. Even though they hadn’t ever been told his name, somehow they knew that he was the one who took them. Vincent didn’t need to explain, and from the look on his face, he seemed to understand that, too. 

“We’re not all like him,” Vincent went on, expression imploring, “I’m not like him, Sam isn’t like him. The people at the club, though…” 

“The club is for you?” they asked, their throat closing around their voice. 

“People like me, yes. Some of them get overly attached.” 

Their spoon clattered into their bowl as their hands started to shake. They were going to die. There was no other outcome. 

“Lovely-.” He was at their side and they hadn’t even seen him move. His hands hovered over their shoulders and they didn’t know if they wanted him to touch them or not. Part of them craved the comfort he brought them and the other wanted to run from him, to put as much distance between them as possible. 

“Are you going to hurt me?”

“Never.” 

They met his eyes and something akin to reverence was waiting for them, “You have to swear to me.” 

“Will you believe me if I do?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“I swear to you that I will never hurt you.” 

“Prove it.” 

Vincent’s expression pinched, “How am I supposed to-?”

Jordan decided that they did want him to touch them, that they did want him to comfort them. If he was going to kill them, he would have, especially considering the pieces of their memory they couldn’t recall but the fact that they knew they were safe with him the same way they knew the sun would rise in the morning and the sky outside was blue. Even without context, they knew that they could rely on him. Before he could finish speaking, they leaned forward and rested their head against his stomach, sighing as his familiar scent filled their nose and mouth. 

Slowly, his hands rested weightlessly on their shoulders, “Lovely?”

“Jordan,” they corrected him, their voice muffled as they spoke into his shirt, “my name’s Jordan.” 

“I know,” He rubbed circles into their shoulders, so gentle it almost tickled, “Once you told me you liked it better than your name.” 

They scowled but didn’t argue. So many things were lost to them and they didn’t know how to sort through what was left. Flashes of him, mostly, with different backdrops that flashed through their head unprompted and without any kind of order or clarity. The only thing that was even remotely similar about the memories was the thick, orange lighting that tinted all of them like vintage photographs. 

“I want to go back to school.” 

“Can you change your classes around or is it too late in the semester?”

“Too late.” 

Vincent huffed out a sigh, “Would it make you uncomfortable if I offered to pay for it? If it meant you could start again next semester taking only evening classes?”

“Should it?”

“Probably.” 

“It doesn’t.” They didn’t lie. Whatever bond they had together was too strong for them to try to ignore or explain away. Even their sobriety fuelled anxiety wasn’t overpowering enough to dim the way their entire body seemed to burn when he was near them. 

“I’d like to do this for you. I know that you don’t trust me right now the way you did before, but I want to show you that you’re one of my top priorities.” 

“Why?” they asked, head resting even more comfortably against him even though their neck was sort of craned. 

“I don’t know,” he said, “What you went through made me feel very protective of you. Thinking of you out in the world trying to do everything on your own makes me feel sick.” 

“I can handle myself,” there was no bite in their tone, only a sad sort of longing that stemmed from somewhere really deep in their chest. 

His hand slid up to hold the back of their head, “Not against people like me. I can’t let somebody swoop in and take you ever again. I have to keep you safe.” 

“Why? Why me?” It was a question that circled through their head all the time, not just when it came to him. When they got hooked on little pills that made them feel like the entire world was made of love and connected, at least until they wore off, they wondered why they could feel so deeply one minute and then absolutely nothing the next. Why could they kill themself over their grades but still not do a single thing to prepare earlier instead of cramming the night before. Nothing about them made sense. Nothing about them felt right. 

Vincent didn’t answer for a few minutes, stroking their hair while he was quiet. Then, he caught their shoulders again and held them as he stepped back. With the side of his finger, he tilted their chin up and met their eyes, “I think it’s probably because I sort of fell in love with you. At the club, I mean. We were really close.” 

“We were really close?” they echoed, tears starting to burn just behind their eyes. The absolute last thing they wanted to do was cry in front of him, but they didn’t know that they had any choice in the matter. They already knew his answer. They already knew their own. 

“Close enough that my feelings got involved,” he confirmed, “but I will never do anything to knowingly make you uncomfortable, and if I do make you uncomfortable I hope you’ll tell me so I can make it right.” 

“It’s been a lot the last few days.” 

“It’s been a lot the last few months.” 

They looked from his eyes back to his lips and then up again, “You’re in love with me?”

“I don’t have any other explanation.” 

His hands left them and then he was three feet away from them, sheepish and awkward as he looked at the clock on the microwave. 

“You said if I go to evening classes that I can go back to school?”

“Right.” 

“Cool, okay, what about the club?” 

Vincent’s eyes went wide, “What about the club?”

They grabbed their bowl and took it to the sink, eager to do something with their hands even if it meant chores, “We have to go back to the club, right? To work together?” 

“There is no we and certainly no together when we’re talking about the club.” 

“But won’t you get in trouble for keeping me here and not there?”

For a moment, Vincent sputtered, then he said, “I mean, yeah, they won’t be happy with me when I go back.” 

“Then we should go back together.” 

“I’m sorry, maybe I’m missing something,” he said, appearing at their side and either not noticing or pretending not to notice how his sudden presence made them startle, “do you want to go back?”

“You’re letting me go back to school, I think it’s only fair that I do something for you, too.” 

Vincent narrowed his eyes on them, “I’m not taking you back there.” 

“We can arrange something,” they tried to reason, “so that we’re both getting something out of this.” 

“I don’t need to get anything out of this other than keeping you safe.” 

They set their bowl down a little bit too hard, soap dripping from their hands as they let them hang in the sink, “That guy, whichever one he is, the scary one. He’s real, right?”

“You remember William?”

“Whoever he is, he’s more like that other guy than he is like you, isn’t he?”

Vincent grimaced but he leaned his hip sideways into the counter and folded his arms, “There are so many things wrong with you going back to the club that I don’t even know where to start. First of all, you’re going to put yourself in harm’s way because you’re worried about what will happen to me if you don’t. Second of all, yeah, William is a lot more like Adam, which just furthers my first point.

“And third of all, I appreciate you wanting to do something for me, too, but this isn’t it. Going back there, going back to what we did before, it’s just not possible. I can’t let you.” 

They were at an impasse, Jordan knew, but they didn’t want to give up. They knew he’d get in trouble, or something similar, or worse, and they knew that they’d have the power to stop that from happening. They just had to get back to the club and make him look really good in front of his boss.

Chapter Text

Vincent’s hands shook where he had them clenched into fists against the tops of his thighs. It wasn’t often that he got a front row seat to anything at The Parlour, but he especially did not to Lovely. Even when he was forced to, he dissociated so far back into his own mind that even though he had his eyes on them, he didn’t see a single thing. That wasn’t an option now, though, especially not with the club packed and every hungry pair of eyes pinned to their body as they moved slowly around the stage in front of him. He wished more than anything he could stand guard the way he did previously, with his back to them and his eyes on the crowd, but William wouldn’t allow it. This was his punishment, after all.

A creeping sense of dread worked its way up the back of his neck as sweat started to gather on his forehead and lower back. How he’d even been talked into this in the first place, he had no idea, but this was the mess they were in now because of it. When Lovely brought up going back to the club, of course he’d denied them. But when William called him, demanding to know where he was and what was happening, he knew that Lovely saw an in, and he let them take advantage of it. Part of him was worried for his personal safety, sure, but he’d never done anything like this before, never loved a human so much that his survival was only tied to theirs. 

It happened fast after William’s call. Desperation drove him to panic. Lovely was there, their eyes warm and understanding despite the sharpness of their victory. He knew he would bend to them, that he would be powerless to their cajoling in the moment. Their lips on his, coaxing and comforting all at once, didn’t push him further from their idea, either. They, magically, convinced him with that kiss alone that it would be better if they both went back together, to arrive with an air of renewed loyalty and control. 

Of course, Vincent barely had any of the trance over them to begin with, they were still fragile, but he knew that without it, too many questions would be asked, and Lovely really was a terrible actor. Their performance was unreliable, but he didn’t miss the pleasured shiver that passed through them as his magic caressed their skin and then sunk into them. It was intimate, sure, but his nerves were starting to fry so he wasn’t even able to appreciate how easy it was to let his suggestions pass through to them. Instead, he had to let his shaking hands hover, outstretched, as their body swayed and then stilled as they found themself again. 

“Are you alright?”

They nodded, though they weren’t looking at him. The rest of the office was more interesting, he supposed, and he watched, still hovering, as they seemed to give the room a once over. 

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

Refocusing, they met his gaze, “I want to dance for you.” 

They did dance. Vincent never realized that they moved so easily, their body so lithe, as they twisted and undulated to the music. Even as his fangs pressed down into his bottom lip and his mouth watered, a pit opened up in his stomach. It was wrong. Everything about it was wrong from the dazed look on their face to the quiet rumbles of approval around him. Even as wrong as it was, though, the elegantly poised pride that radiated off of William, who perched at his side, was undeniable. Neither was the way it made him feel like the moon was pouring its reassuring light down onto him directly. So, even though he knew it was wrong, and praying that Lovely would forgive him later, he pushed them a bit harder. 

The rumblings around him grew louder as they moved more confidently, driven by his telepathic command. He knew what the vampires around him liked in a show, and he knew that this would only further increase William’s pride. If he could just get on his good side again. 

The sudden snap of fingers next to him made him jump, and he jerked to look at Alexis shrewdly. 

“Do you mind? I’m trying to focus.” he hissed through his teeth. Instead of answering him, she watched, sneering and satisfied as the rest of the humans filed out. His magic pulled as each one branched away from the main group to flit around the room to the waiting guests. He glanced back up at Lovely, who was still moving just the way he’d been encouraging them to. They looked none the wiser to the open buffet currently moving about the main floor in front of them. What they would think of it, he wasn’t sure, but he added it to the list of things to apologize to them for. 

Even though he’d seen this part almost every night for twenty or so years, Vincent couldn’t ignore the sounds that filled the room as his humans were snatched up and bitten. Some of them cried out, others made more lascivious noises, depending on the temperament of whichever guest grabbed them. There were small arguments that broke out, as they did, when two guests wanted the same human. He tuned them out as he focused back solely on Lovely. The other humans were so deeply tranced that he didn’t have to siphon so much of his attention into them to maintain them. That was, at least, until one of them started to scream. 

At first, Vincent wrote it off, but when it extended into something that sounded more animal than human, he whipped around and glanced around until he found the source. Several tables away, two guests had a human locked between them. The taller of the two was snarling and pulling on the human’s arm. It was easy to see, even from where he was, that their shoulder was no longer in its socket. 

“I’ve got it,” Alexis snapped at him, flitting off to apparently get it. He wasn’t sure, though, because the human had tears racing down their face and their screaming only intensified as they were yanked again towards the taller guest. 

Alexis wasn’t fast enough. He should have gone himself, but Lovely needed him. He couldn’t abandon them. The tearing sound wasn’t any louder than the other noises around them, but it stood out in his mind. Just as quickly as the tearing happened, so did the frenzy. Within seconds, the slam of bodies and snapping of jaws overtook even the music. 

“Lex!” 

Despite being quite small, Alexis threw one of the two instigating guests sideways and then dove for the body. If they could get the human out of the middle of the horde then things would calm down quickly. If not, though, it could go on for hours. They could lose more humans in the frey. He turned his magic out, letting it link tightly to every other beating heart in the room as he forced the humans to turn and leave. Even when their forced absence caused wounds or furious snarls, he made them move quickly back towards the double doors. Sam could fix any injuries, but he couldn’t bring them back if any of them died. 

A quiet gasp made him swing back around. Lovely was awake. He could see it in their wide-with-horror expression as they sank down to their knees and watched. Something in him snapped and he ran to them, barely lifting his foot before he was lifting them into his arms. 

“I’m sorry,” he panted, his grip on his magic slipping some as the humans started to jostle amongst themselves as they tried to get through the doors more quickly. He needed them to get to safety, too, but with Lovely in his arms, his attention was more than split. 

He wanted to take them himself, to put them back up in the office and lock and ward them in, but too much was happening. The sound of their guests starting to go at each other was getting louder, gnashing teeth and snapping bones filling the air as the music pulsed on. It was nightmarish even for him, but he knew that Lovely was seeing it all, too. Desperation gripped him again as he set them down on their feet and pulled the nearest human in close to them,

“Take care of them. Do not let anyone touch them.” The human ducked their head in a quick nod before looping an arm around Lovely’s waist. He was sure that they were objecting, even reaching out to him as he darted backward towards where Alexis was grappling with two different guests on the ground. William was carefully standing to his full height just as he watched as they slipped through the double doors with the rest of the humans to safety.