Hunting the Hunter

Despite asking Doru to take him to bed, it was Walter who led him into the bedroom and drew the taller man into his arms. He had never realized that he could express anything with lust but lust, but pressed against Doru with his fingers twining in his lover’s hair, he found he could put his frustration and anger into biting kisses and caresses that might have roused pained protests from a human lover.

Doru took it with not just stoicism but with passion. If Walter bit down on his lip hard enough to risk drawing blood, Doru’s fingers dug into Walter’s shoulders hard enough that the next morning he would see them stippled with finger pad bruises. If Walter jerked on his hair to pull his head back and expose Doru’s throat to his perverse urge to bite a vampire, Doru in turn gripped his hips to hold him when he ground his growing erection against Walter’s until Walter gave a protesting yip and stopped biting.

Their first time had been careful, considerate.

This was not their first time.

“Clothes,” Walter panted when he did pull away. “Off.”

Doru grinned wickedly and held up his hands. “Be my guest.” Perhaps he was not panting because he did not need to breathe.

Walter made an incoherent noise of irritation and pounced on Doru’s shirt, grabbing and pulling until buttons popped and practically leapt away from them to roll under the bed, the dresser, or to fetch up in a corner to be found in the morning or perhaps never.

Walter realized Doru was shaking. When he looked up, he was surprised to see him laughing silently. It broke the moment and Walter swung dizzily from his angry lust to...

...laughing.

He laughed helplessly and shook his head at himself before sliding his hands inside Doru’s shirt and drawing their bodies together again.

“Better now, Angel?” Doru asked, sounding warm with his laughter but not mocking.

Walter shook his head again as he laughed and forced himself to take a deep breath and then another.

“I’m alright.” He turned his head to kiss the side of Doru’s throat. “I’ll try not to ravish you so hard.”

“Don’t say that!” Doru protested. “I was quite enjoying the ravishing. You can’t pretend to that kind of passion.”

“But--”

“No,” Doru cut him off firmly. “This is far too much talking. Do I have to do the ravishing?”

He took Walter’s hand and very carefully, very cautiously, started to work one of his rings off of his finger.

Walter watched in frozen silence, all thought of laughter gone, but he allowed Doru to take the ring and set it on a nearby bookshelf, just as he allowed Doru to take the other nine rings in a moment that seemed removed from their earlier passion, removed from the laughter, removed even from time.

It was a gesture of trust beyond even allowing Doru’s lips at his throat.

When Doru set the last ring aside with a barely audible click of metal on wood, he nodded to himself.

“I will not bite and you will not cut. Why should anything else be forbidden to us?”

Walter nodded and murmured, “I think I remember where we were.” Then he remembered one more thing. He turned his back to Doru and pulled the cross Arthur had given him out of his shirt and took it off, shoving it into his pocket before turning back to Doru.

He might have lost some of his frantic momentum, but he still wanted Doru out of his clothes. He pushed Doru’s shirt and coat off his shoulders and slid them off his arms to fall to the floor. Seeing his upper body bare was a good start, the lines of muscle in his shoulders and abdomen once again made him think of carved stone, too perfect to be real and touchable even if he had already touched him - and done more than that - just days ago.

But he didn’t want to just touch now. His anger-tinged lust surged back when he put his mouth to Doru’s shoulder, biting lightly, then harder, and then harder still, trying to get Doru to make some sound.

Finally Doru hissed and wrapped his fingers around Walter’s ponytail to pull him back before he succeeded in breaking the skin.

Walter licked his lips and grinned, a feral light in his eyes. “You can’t bite, but I can.” He pulled against the hold in his hair until Doru let go and shifted his attention to bite again, closing his teeth on the muscle around Doru’s nipple. He didn’t bite as hard as he had bitten Doru’s shoulder, but he bit harder than he thought he would have liked for himself.

Doru responded by cradling the back of Walter’s head with one hand and sighing, “Angel.”

Nothing was forbidden....

He grazed the nipple itself with his teeth while he worked by touch to unbuckle Doru’s belt and unbutton his trousers. Doru helped by stepping out of his shoes before Walter pushed the pants off his hips, giving a little shimmy that made his trousers drop down to his knees where he could step out of them.

Walter took a step back and unknotted his tie. He could not take his eyes off of Doru, who stood there like one of Walter’s dreams come to life.

The thought of dreams brought another surge of anger and with it an almost dizzying wash of lust. He could not get his shirt unbuttoned, could not get his shoes off, could not wriggle out of his tight trousers fast enough, could not cross the distance between them again soon enough.

They fell onto the bed in a confusion of legs, hands and mouths, Walter panting, Doru growling against Walter’s lips or throat or shoulder while Walter clasped one of Doru’s thighs between both of his and rolled his hips to rub his erection against Doru’s leg.

The friction was almost maddening. He wanted...

What did he want? The thought brought him up short, brow furrowed. He had no shortage of desire, but was terribly lacking in a grasp of the fundamental mechanics of sex between two men other than what he and Doru had already done together, and soldiers’ jokes about buggery.

“Angel?”

Walter blinked and focused his eyes on Doru. There was no way he could put into words the fact that he had the will, but was not altogether clear on the way. Fortunately Doru seemed to put things together on his own; he drew Walter down into a heated kiss and rolled him onto his back.

“I want to show you something,” the vampire murmured before sliding down Walter’s body to take his cock into his mouth and lavish long strokes of his tongue along its length to the point that Walter was gasping and digging his fingers into the blankets for something to keep him from a rather premature end.

Before Walter could lose himself in the unexpected pleasure, Doru drew away, leaving him trembling and making a protesting sound before he could stop himself.

“Shh...” Doru silenced him with a kiss while he shifted once again to straddle Walter with his knees on either side of Walter’s torso.

Walter could feel him raise up and then reach between their bodies. When Doru’s fingers wrapped the base of his cock to lift it up, Walter groaned into the other man’s mouth and raised his hips to meet the touch.

Of all the things Walter expected, it was not for Doru to lower himself until he could feel the tip of his cock pressing between Doru’s buttocks. He was still slick with Doru’s saliva, but was that enough?

As Doru lowered himself more onto Walter’s erection, he started to think the answer was no. He pushed against flesh that gave, but did not yield until he was gasping for air and digging his fingers into Doru’s hips. He thought he would break, but then, like a moment of magic, Doru’s body opened to him, stubbornly tight muscle releasing to grip Walter and draw him inward.

He sucked in a breath and held himself carefully still to let Doru finish what he had started.

He did not think, So this is buggery. If there was a thought in his mind it was much nearer, Don’t let me come already, not yet, not yet, Winston Churchill in a tutu!

Doru lowered himself onto Walter’s cock until they were pressed as tightly together as their bodies would allow. The sensation of being seated fully in Doru’s body made all thoughts of ballet-dressed Prime Ministers flee Walter’s mind. He was enveloped, squeezed, and frankly overwhelmed.

Doru moved just enough to put his lips near Walter’s ear, but even that was enough to make his toes curl.

“I can’t--” he began in a breathless whisper. He could not possibly last more than a couple of minutes like this. He wanted to, but all the masturbation in the world could not have prepared him for self-control with his cock deep inside Doru.

Doru cut him off. “Don’t. Come quickly for me, Angel, before the saliva is gone. Come for me while it feels good.”

And as simple as that he had permission to go off like a... well, like a virgin with his first lover. In fact, Doru was as much telling him that if he did not come quickly, it might hurt his lover.

He nodded and rocked his hips experimentally. Just a little movement resulted in the slide of flesh in flesh, and when Doru raised himself up, his internal muscles did things Walter did not even have words for. It was perfectly tight, warming with every moment and motion, and Walter wanted more.

Doru helped him, lifting up until their bodies were nearly separated, making Walter gasp again and clutch at his hips to keep him from pulling away. Walter thought he saw a smile play over his lips before he brought their bodies together with a slap of skin against skin that made his eyes roll back in his head.

Then there was nothing but the building pressure in his balls, the heat of pleasure wrapping his spine, the warmth that prickled across his skin like a dance of needles, and Doru’s body. He raised his hips again and again, trying to catch the rhythm with Doru and ride it until his body convulsed and his vision went white with the first pulse of pleasure, followed by another, another, and another.

He rode the orgasm until the whiteout receded enough for him to open his eyes again. Doru’s face was inches from his, his expression hungry, his eyes glowing red in the darkened room. The sight was enough to make Walter jerk and groan with a last aftershock of pleasure brought on by the adrenaline surge of seeing a vampire’s eyes so close to his own.

Strangely, it was perfect.

Doru kissed him once, deeply, hungrily, and then made them both groan when he rose up and let their bodies separate. He was still hard, and Walter wanted to do something for him, but he honestly did not think he could move, let alone snog the man right that moment.

He licked his lips and looked around for his clothes, but they were all over the floor and well out of reach. “So much for a cigarette,” he croaked.

Doru laughed and rolled off of Walter to flop onto his back beside him on the bed. “Later, Angel.”

Walter put his nearer hand over Doru’s cock and squeezed gently. “Sooner, Doru. Then we’ll see to you.”

He pushed himself to a sitting position and muttered, “An all-vampire dance troupe could have can-canned its way through here and I would have missed it.”

And it would have been worth every missed high kick.

His legs were more than a little wobbly when he made himself stand up. “Cigarettes, glass of water, then fall down,” he instructed himself.

Doru rose from the bed to press himself against Walter’s back, arms wrapping his torso. Walter could feel him hard against his ass, which made it very difficult to remember the items on his list, particularly when he bent over to pick up his waistcoat to find his cigarette case and lighter.

“Cigarettes, glass of water, then fuck me,” Doru suggested with his lips against Walter’s spine. It was enough to make Walter sway against him. What was he looking for?

“Cigarettes,” he answered himself triumphantly and opened the case, taking out two and putting them both between his lips to light before holding one up for Doru to take from him. “Now let me go and I’ll get water and be right back.”

Doru licked Walter’s nape before he released him and took the cigarette. “Hurry back,” he said while he went to arrange himself on the bed in a manner meant to make Walter forget all about any need to rest between orgasms he might have.

Walter took a moment to drag on his cigarette and stare shamelessly at Doru before turning to totter into the shadowy kitchen for a glass of water. He paused at the window to look outside at the empty night. The cottage was easily a quarter mile from the nearest neighbor while Arthur’s manor property was being renovated. The only light he could see on that cold, overcast night was what leaked out the living room and bedroom windows.

He checked the locks on the front and back doors and returned to the bedroom to find Doru in the process of rearranging himself on the bed.

In response to his raised eyebrow Doru picked up a bottle from the bedside table and held it up. “Mineral oil. I was checking the washroom since I didn’t think to bring anything we could put to use in the bedroom.”

Oh.

Walter ran his fingers over his rings where Doru had put them on the bookcase, but left them there. He knew Doru was watching him but he could not help himself; the rings were more than weapons, they were as integral to his being as his fingers. He scooped them up and moved them to the table next to the bed, setting them down with a tiny chinking chorus next to the mineral oil and his water glass.

Doru never took his eyes off of him and he offered an abashed smile. “Just in case the can-canning vampire troupe makes an entrance.”

Or because they had both been attacked by a particular white-haired vampire. He was trying, albeit clumsily, to keep things light since they were naked and had more diversions ahead of them.

Doru reached out to catch his wrist and tug. He was clearly only using a fraction of his strength, but Walter let him pull him onto the bed. He had lost some of his erection in the time they had been apart, but he pulled Walter into a kiss that was passionate enough to dismiss any doubt that he still wanted more.

Walter responded instantly, molding his body against Doru’s side, running a hand over his bare chest to follow finely sculpted lines of muscle. He traced the line down the center of Doru’s chest, passed over his navel with a fingertip, and hesitated only a moment before pressing his open hand over Doru’s erection, fingertips lightly brushing the delicate skin of his scrotum.

Doru broke the silence, his voice low and rough.“I want to have you, if you’ll allow it.”

Walter cut his eyes over to the bottle sitting innocuously on the bedside table. He thought of Doru above him, how tight he had been, how just the first penetration had made him want to lose himself in the pleasure of Doru’s body. Now Doru wanted him the same way.

“And if I allow it and then say stop?” he asked.

The answer was exactly what he expected. “Then I stop and we will find something mutually agreeable.”

In for a penny, in for a pound.

“I always did like a thrill,” Walter said before he turned his face up to Doru to kiss him. “Just leave me able to walk tomorrow, right? I can’t heal like you do.”

Doru sighed with pleasure and murmured a thank you before catching Walter’s lips for another hard kiss. He did not break from the kiss as he once again shifted to hold his body over Walter’s or while he stretched out a long arm to retrieve the bottle of mineral oil on the side table.

“Now,” he said when he finally pulled away from the kiss, leaving Walter panting and starting to grow hard again, “this isn’t as easy as just shove it in, not when I want you to want to do it again.”

He slid off of Walter and with a hand on his thigh got him to spread his legs and bring his knees up to expose himself to Doru.

The vampire’s eyes began to glow a faint red again when he settled between Walter’s legs. “Give me your hand.”

Walter held out a hand which Doru turned palm up to pour a dash of oil into the hollow of his hand. “Show me how your touch yourself when you’re alone.”

His face must have shown his surprise and incomprehension because Doru laughed softly and moved Walter’s hand to his cock. “Touch yourself. This is all easier when your body is craving.”

Oh. Walter licked his lips and struggled with himself before nodding and wrapping his fingers around his cock, stroking first just to distribute the mineral oil along its length. Once his hand and cock were slick with the oil, he gave himself a squeeze and circled the head of his cock with two fingers and his thumb, lightly stroking, teasing himself, bringing himself back to full erection under Doru’s fierce red gaze.

Doru watched him without moving until he seemed certain that Walter was following his instructions, then poured oil into the palm of his hand and set the bottle aside. Instead of going straight to the target, so to speak, Doru rubbed the oil into both hands, raised Walter’s knees higher, and began to massage his inner thighs and buttocks.

“Don’t stop,” he said when Walter paused and raised his head to see what Doru was doing. His hands slid inward, grazing Walter’s scrotum with his thumbs before he started to massage his perineum with them. The slow pressure in an area he’d never thought to bother with brought a moan to Walter’s lips. He followed Doru’s command not to stop, though his hand was moving in an unconscious mirror of Doru’s motions.

“Did you know,” Doru murmured, still massaging, “that it’s possible to bring a man to orgasm with just the right pressure here? Not every time and not every man, but it’s an intense pleasure and unlike other orgasms.”

Walter’s response was a moan. Perhaps he would remember that later; more likely he would just remember that the pressure of Doru’s fingers was sending jolts of pleasure through his body.

Doru took his time, watching Walter until he was rocking his hips and making small involuntary sounds. He slid a thumb between Walter’s buttocks to massage the ring of muscle at his anus.

He chuckled when Walter stiffened and lost his rhythm. “Relax, Angel. All you have to do is trust.”

Walter shuddered and nodded before letting his body go mostly limp on the bed. Trust did not come easily, but if he was not going to trust Doru, who was he going to trust?

He ran his thumb down the length of his erection and closed his eyes, picturing Doru above him, trying to imagine what it would feel like to have Doru hard inside him. Doru took that moment to remove his thumb and press a finger against the ring of muscle. For a moment there was a sense of no chance is that getting in and then his body relaxed and seemed to almost pull Doru’s finger inside.

Now Walter had a small piece of reality to go with the fantasy he had been spinning. Before he could protest that it was uncomfortable, Doru poured more oil onto his hand and finger and rubbed it into Walter, tearing a moan of surprised pleasure from him. Oh, but this was not so bad at all, not at all.

“Don’t stop now.” Doru’s voice made him open his eyes to see that the vampire’s eyes were glowing even more brightly. “You’re driving me mad in the best way.”

Walter felt his cheeks burn. It was all so surreal. How could he possibly be here, with Doru doing... that and it felt so good when he let it.

Perhaps it was all just a dream.

No! His body tensed and he hissed when his muscles clamped down around Doru’s finger.

No dreams. He wanted nothing more to do with dreams.

He kept his eyes open and dropped his head back down onto the bed. “More. Give me more. Now.” He did not care if it hurt, he wanted it to hurt. If it hurt, it could not be a dream.

Doru’s expression flickered with something Walter could not read before he poured more oil onto his fingers and worked a second finger past the tight ring of muscle and into the heat and softness inside Walter.

It stung and Walter hissed through his teeth, digging his heels into the mattress and lifting his hips off the soft surface, but it also felt good, and when Doru crooked his fingers forward in an almost come here motion Walter cried out at the sensation of electric pleasure caused by the pressure on his prostate.

He forgot about touching himself, forgot about his thoughts about dreams, forgot about whether this was right or wrong. He wanted more of that touch and Doru gave it to him, stroking his fingers inside him until Walter would have been hard pressed to remember his own name.

When Doru added a third finger, Walter could not protest even if he had wanted to. There was a sting and burn of stretching muscle, but it was almost what he was wanting. It was almost enough.

Doru’s eyes were glowing brightly, casting a light that Walter remembered from their first intimacy. He held out his arms to Doru, inviting him without words and Doru came to him, rising up with his hand still between Walter’s legs to kiss him.

“Are you ready?” he asked with his lips against Walter’s, punctuating the question with a movement of his fingers inside Walter that made him gasp.

Yes. No. Maybe. We’ll see. “Yes.”

If Doru heard any hesitation in the answer, he chose to ignore it, withdrawing his fingers in a smooth motion that made Walter bite back a sound of protest. His fingers were swiftly replaced with the head of his cock and Walter caught his breath in anticipation.

With the help of another liberal drizzle of oil, the first press of Doru into him was a painless stretch that ended in Walter’s choked moan when his body clamped down behind the head of Doru’s cock.

They were still together while Walter adjusted to the fact that he had another man’s cock inside him and his muscles relaxed again, then Doru pressed forward again, sliding deeper into Walter with a cant of his hips that pushed over his prostate in a manner that sent jolts of pleasure through them both - Walter from the stimulation, Doru from the unpredictable grasp and release of Walter’s muscles around him.

When there was nowhere left to go, no separation between their bodies, Doru drew out of Walter just enough to pour still more oil onto the base of his shaft before pushing into him again.

“Now,” he murmured into Walter’s ear, “move for me.”

Walter tilted his head in puzzlement, not certain what Doru wanted until the vampire put a hand on his hip and showed him. He rocked experimentally while Doru held himself still; it was not exactly what he was wanting, but once he found a rhythm, Doru started to move as well, drawing himself away and coming back into Walter until they were both certain that he was ready for more.

Then Doru began to move in earnest, pulling back until they were nearly separated and thrusting back into Walter until they found the motions that complemented each other, like a ship riding the waves, rising and falling back into the next trough between swells.

It was not long. Perhaps it was how long Doru had waited after Walter had had his first pleasure, perhaps it was consideration for the fact that this was Walter’s first experience in this role, perhaps - and Walter liked this perhaps - Walter was just too much for him, but Doru soon began to thrust harder, growling against Walter’s shoulder and throat with a feral rumble that send shocks of adrenaline racing through his body to meet and amplify the jolts of pleasure from their joined movements.

Doru took Walter’s hand and moved it back down to his erection in a clear signal to stroke himself again. He held his body arched to give Walter room and drove into him again and again, catching his prostate with the head of his cock until Walter thought another thrust would make his entire body fly apart.

He lost all sense of the symmetry they had found and arched off the bed braced on heels and shoulders, shuddering with the build and burst of heat and pleasure, spilling hot semen on his hand and stomach and filling the air with hoarse cries.

Doru held him up with an arm under his back and drowned out Walter’s cries with a reverberating growl when he thrust one last time and shuddered against him. Walter felt suddenly... fuller, but it was just another piece of the cacophony of pleasure and sensation bathing his body.

He melted back to the mattress with a last groan and Doru followed him down, licking sweat off his skin with his cool tongue. Without being asked, he withdrew from Walter, which evoked a groan of loss and a sigh of relief; once the orgasm started to fade, he had started to feel uncomfortably stretched.

They lay in peaceful silence until Walter licked his lips and levered himself up enough to get his glass of water and wet his parched mouth.

Perhaps he would be walking a bit gingerly the next day. So what? It was worth it.

Doru rolled onto his side and propped his head up in a hand. “Feeling better now?”

“Best,” Walter said, setting the glass aside to pick up his cigarette case. “You?”

“Likewise,” Doru said, taking a cigarette when Walter offered and letting him light it. “Thank you.”

The sweat started to dry on Walter’s skin, leaving him chilled and reminding him that winter in Scotland was not the best to lie around naked and sweaty. With a groan, he pulled the blankets back and scooted under them, propping himself up against the headboard to finish his cigarette. Doru took a drag on his cigarette before joining Walter under the blankets with an arm around his shoulders.

“Maybe,” Walter mused to himself, “this forced holiday of mine isn’t so bad after all.”

Doru laughed and kissed his bare shoulder. “Only maybe, Angel? I think I should be put out with you over just a maybe.”

“Fine, fine.” Walter set his cigarette in an ashtray (and gave thanks that Arthur smoked) and swung his legs off the bed - nature called. “This holiday isn’t so bad after all. Especially if you stay with me more than just tonight.”

Doru smiled and tugged on Walter’s arm, pulling him back down to kiss his cheek before whispering in his ear, “Take your rings and put on some trousers on your way back. Someone is outside.”
•••

Michel D’Ardier did not like Scotland. He did not particularly care for England, but he earnestly disliked Scotland. He also did not like the assignment Gerard Bernadette had taken for his mercenary company. Following one wiry git in a waistcoat around London and now up to Scotland was not why he had become a mercenary.

He had become a mercenary for action, adventure, and of course, a damn fine paycheque. Some people might say one out of three was not so bad in this case, but Michel was not one of those people. He was concerned he was losing his edge and then when they finally moved on from this waste of time contract, he would have found his instincts were not what they had once been.

He did not want to get himself killed just for one cushy contract.

Michel had likely been right about losing his edge. Gerard had told him to watch the cottage, not to approach it, not to get caught. He had staked out a nice little hill and settled in with a pair of binoculars, a thermos of coffee laced with a strong scotch, and several layers of the warmest clothes he could get his hands on.

It had not been his intention to get anywhere near the cottage, but what he had spotted through the open bedroom curtains had piqued his interest. He had no interest in two men doing the deed, but at the same time, he had never watched two men doing the deed and he thought it would make for a good story to be told to the other mercenaries when he got back to somewhere warm where the liquor flowed like water and the pretty women would sit in a man’s lap for a bit of French-accented flattery.

While his mark and the other man had gotten down to the business of shagging each other senseless, Michel had crept closer, and if it had remained just the story of two men shagging each other senseless, Michel probably would have kept his distance.

But the red glow that filled the room when Doru let himself go drew Michel in like a moth to the flame. He had to know what was happening. He had to see for himself.

And holy Mother of God, when they climaxed, that growl rumbled out through the window and Michel found himself rooted to the spot. He had been shot at, stabbed, and once had a 90 year old Romanian woman throw a hatchet at petit Michel and miss his favorite body part by a hair’s breadth, and he had never been as helplessly terrified as he was at that moment.

Who on God’s earth fucked something that made a noise like that?

It took him longer than he wanted to admit to before he could pull himself together enough to try to make his way back to the hill where he had left his things. He was going to gather them up, get in the truck, go to the pub where Bernadette was waiting, and quit.

Then a hand fell on his shoulder and Michel D’Ardier pissed himself.
•••

Walter came out of the toilet wearing his rings and a pair of pants and bared his teeth in a silent snarl to see that Doru had left the room without him. He grabbed his shirt from the floor and hurried out to the living room in time to see Doru - fully clothed, nice trick - pulling a terrified man through the door.

He caught the man’s pistol when Doru tossed it to him, automatically checked the chamber and the safety and leaned back to toss it into the bedroom to land on the pillows.

“Who’s this then?” he asked, giving the man a hostile glare.

Doru shook the man, who shook his head and spoke in a rapid-fire stream of French.

“He says he’s no one,” Doru translated. “He’s lying of course.” He added something in French and the color drained from the man’s face so quickly he swayed on his feet. “And he isn’t just a voyeur, what kind of voyeur brings a gun to the show?”

Walter pulled his shirt on while he watched the stranger. Nice way to kill the afterglow, whoever you are.

“Do you speak English?” he asked, hoping the answer would be a yes. His French left a lot to be desired and definitely was not adequate for an interrogation.

Doru shook the man again and he nodded, answering in thickly accented English, “Yes. Don’t let him hurt me. I’m done. Going home. No more trouble with me.”

“What’s your name?” Walter asked, glancing longingly back at the bedroom where his cigarette still burned in the ashtray.

“Michel. Michel D’Ardier and I didn’t see anything. I just want to go.”

Walter shook his head. “Doru, I think you can put him in a chair.”

Doru shook his head and grinned toothily. “You don’t want that, Angel. He’s a bit... damp.”

Walter’s eyes slid down to see the spreading wetness in the man’s crotch and made a face. “Fantastic. No, just hold on to him, then.”

He turned his attention to the captive. “Right then, Michel. Here’s how this goes. I ask you a question, you answer it, and we’re all just three chums who had a bit of a misunderstanding, right?”

He waited for a reply, which came in greater detail than he could have expected.

“Right, yes.” Michel looked over his shoulder where Doru loomed, his eyes once again a calm brown, his expression set in predatory amusement. “I’m not getting paid enough for this. I don’t mind the thought of dying but not this. I work for Gerard Bernadette. He works for your boss, Arthur Hellsing. We’re supposed to follow you, watch what you’re doing, report back. That’s all. We’ve been doing it for months.”

Walter crossed the room in a blur and slapped the man, whipping his head around with the force of the blow. “You’re lying!” he hissed.

Michel shook his head, looking dazed. His teeth were pink with blood, perhaps he’d cut his cheek on his teeth when Walter hit him. “I’m not. I know where Hellsing is. I know where you’ve been. We’ve watched you. We’ve seen you with him.” He indicated Doru.

“And it’s not worth it. I quit. I’ll give you Gerard’s number. Call him. Call the pub and ask for Gerard Bernadette. He’s there with the others and when you know it’s true, let me go!”

Walter looked at Doru who shrugged lightly as though to say it was Walter’s decision.

“Give me the number.”

He rang up the pub where Michel said he could reach Gerard Bernadette. The phone was answered by a woman with an accent so thick he gave up on trying to understand her and just asked for her to find Gerard Bernadette and get him on the phone.

After a few minutes of listening to an open line with pub sounds - glasses, laughter, shouts and conversation, a man with a cigarette-roughed voice got on the line. “Allo? Michel? Qu'est-ce qui se passe?”

“No, not Michel,” Walter said coldly. “Walter Dornez. I have Michel here with me.”

“Putain!” Gerard caught himself and sighed heavily into the phone. “Let him go, Mr. Dornez.”

“Oh, I don’t know that I should,” Walter told the man on the phone. “Are you sure you want him? He’s pissed himself and says he’s not being paid enough.”

“Let him go, Mr. Dornez. Let him go, call your Sir Hellsing and tell him the Wild Geese are through with their contract. I’m taking my men somewhere warmer.”

Walter held the phone in his hand feeling an icy hand grip his vitals. He found his voice and said, “You do that, Mr. Bernadette. Take them somewhere far away. Perhaps Africa.”

He hung up the phone and looked up at Doru; he could tell from his expression that he had heard everything.

“Let him go, Doru. I have another call to make.”

While Doru pushed the shivering French mercenary out the door, Walter called Hellsing, waiting for the phone to ring through on Arthur’s private line.

“Walter, is that you? Are you at the cottage now? I dare say it’s in better shape than the manor house right now. Just go ahead and introduce yourself to the foreman on the renovations and he’ll get you--”

“I know about the Wild Geese.”

The silence stretched on the line before Arthur cleared his throat and said, “Walter, that was--”

Walter cut him off again. “I’m on holiday. I’ll see you in two weeks. And sir?”

“Yes Walter?”

“Gerard Bernadette says they’re flying somewhere warmer now. If you want to know what I’m doing from now on, you’ll have to read my reports.”

He hung up the phone and let Doru pull him into his arms.