Shardeaters

*****

Chapter Three

*****



Still...


Still, the apathy that had befallen him that night in the park left Schuldig a week after he returned to Shaftesbury Avenue, ignored Crawford’s questions and went straight to bed. He answered to his companion the following night as they ventured into Covent Garden, determined to forget about everything as quickly as possible, and found that Crawford had quite adequate words for the entire situation:


 "That’s a farce. Though I’m not sure what’s more pathetic - that Farfarello pulled the same trick twice, that everyone made such a fuss about it or that William actually fell for it. I predict this will cause much merriment among the others, despite the deaths and all."


‘That William actually fell for it’ struck a chord in Schuldig and started to echo inside him like a melody one just cannot get rid of. Yet just as he had been able to ignore the warning voice in his mind when he met Farfarello, Schuldig easily ignored that melody and sought to forget about the entire affair as quickly as possible. He idly wondered why he had been so adamant about coming to the grounds of it all in the first place - of course, Christine had been a friend of his, and a close friend at that. Just like any other member of the Dark Breeds, though, she fell under the same rules. Now that the mystery of her murder had been solved - and what an easy solution it had, indeed, been. How could he have missed it? - and Schuldig knew who the culprits were, it all made sense.


His curiosity had involved him more deeply into the affairs of the Felidae than was wise. Schuldig knew the rules. Part of him was able to accept Christine’s death now because he knew that she had paid for something that occurred centuries ago - the Dark Breeds made no difference between a year and millennia. It still eluded him why Farfarello had chosen this very century for his revenge, but his curiosity was not piqued enough to make him seek out the leader of the Felidae and ask him about it.


They saw neither hair nor hide of any of the Felidae for days that turned into a week. Schuldig visited Theodore at the "Raven" and told him what had happened. He sat with him in the backroom of the shop, amid parchment and framed copies of Theodore’s work, bottles of ink and writing utensils, and found the company of the other Vampire soothing. Theodore might not have been present back then in Ireland, but of all the London Vampires he was the only one who was interested in all the details. Even Crawford seemed to have lost interest once he understood how it was all linked together, and the others were more concerned with their own safety. Yet the Felidae had made themselves so scarce that after a few days of worrying and heated discussions how they should proceed the London Vampires decided that the score had been settled and that there was nothing left to worry about.


 "We really are a lazy bunch of monsters," Schuldig said to Theodore that night, thumbing through a sheaf of papers. One of the writers he translated for had sent him a copy of their newest book. The topic - "Revolutionary Theories in Women’s Rights" - did not interest him all that much but at least it was something to occupy himself with. "Everyone was so wrought up about Christine’s death, but now that they know what brought it on they don’t care anymore."


 "Did you expect them to?" Theodore stood in a corner of the backroom, sorting through a stack of parchment. "We live in a hard world, Schuldig. The mortals might have their laws and their judges now, they believe in righting wrongs by giving the murderers and thieves into the hands of the ‘correctional institutes’, but we live by far older rules. They are much simpler. Now that Farfarello has taken his revenge, late as it may have happened, the score is settled, no matter how unfair it might all seem to you."


 "And there’s nothing left to worry about," Schuldig ended with a sigh. "And a few centuries later, the heroic Felidae managed to find the last two murderers and killed them. Everyone lived happily ever after. The end."


Theodore chuckled, "Why so sarcastic? Didn’t you want to know what happened to Christine? Now you know."


Every Dark Breed had a past. Due to their immortality, the very span of their life, things accumulated or disappeared down memory lane. It had not shocked Schuldig to learn about Christine’s past. Her death had shocked him because it came unexpected and ripped a bleeding hole into the deceptive tranquillity of his endless life. He knew that now. He knew that it was not so much her death that had awakened the fever in him, but the feeling that his life had been unjustly interrupted. Yet the answer to all his questions had been so easily found...


Not found, Schuldig corrected himself, eyes gliding over a page of the book in his hands, uncovered. Crawford called him detective, yet what had he done to come to the grounds of Christine’s murder? Nothing. He had stood at the sidelines and watched events unfold, nothing more than a spectator who in the end gained access to the finer points of the script and understood its spidery-thin threads connecting one character to the other.


He realized what he was doing and sighed again. Looking up he caught Theodore giving him a wistful, knowing glance. "Something’s still off about it, Theo."


The other Vampire put the parchment down and joined him at the cluttered desk, pulling a chair out. "Too easy for your tastes, hm?"


Schuldig shook his head, searching for the right words. It was nothing concrete, just a feeling, but it would not go away. For a week now he had tried to forget about everything, to resume life as it was normal where he had left off, but no matter how hard he tried his thoughts always returned to Christine - and to Farfarello. He felt as though he had taken the first tentative steps down a road of which he knew nothing but that it ended in darkness. "He said that nothing’s done. Nothing’s settled. I wonder what he meant."


 "What who meant?"


 "I have to go, Theo." He had to talk to Farfarello again. Schuldig knew he would not be able to let it rest until he knew the entire truth. He put the stack of paper on the edge of the desk and slipped into his coat, determined to go to Mayfair and find Farfarello.


 "Schuldig, where are you going at this time of the night? It’s nearly light out." Concern in his voice, Theodore followed him to the door. "Let it rest. You have your answers."


 "It’s not like the light will kill me. I have answers, but not to the questions that I should have asked." Letting himself out of the shop, Schuldig hunched his shoulders against the icy wind that greeted him on the sidewalk. For days now, the newspapers had been reporting the first casualties - the homeless and the weak would fall victim to the coming harsh winter. "And there’s something else that needs to be settled still."


 "Schuldig..."


He turned and smiled at Theodore, "Don’t worry, nothing that would result in bloodshed. I hope. It’s a personal affair."


 "You are far too fascinated by him, you know that?"


There was something in Theodore’s eyes that made him hesitate, aside from the feeling of deja vue he was experiencing. Crawford had said almost the exact same words to him the last time they walked out of the "Raven" and Schuldig went to Mayfair. Though Schuldig knew that his companion would never intentionally say anything about his personal affairs to any of the others, he suddenly wondered how much of his ‘fascination’ was evident if Theodore now said the same to him. He had spent a lot of time in the company of the others lately but had made sure to not give too much of his personal interest in Farfarello away. They would not do anything about it - Schuldig was an Elder of London, a title no one had ever dared to try to take away from him - but the revelation that he had partaken in intimate activities with the leader of the Felidae would cause quite a stir.


What he read in Theodore’s eyes was misgiving. Hands buried in his pockets, Schuldig turned down the sidewalk. "I’ll be back tomorrow for those papers."


 "Be careful. He’s still a Felidae, Schu."


Those words made him look back over his shoulder but Theodore had already closed the door to the "Raven" and placed the wooden board before it. The concern in his voice had been real - Schuldig had spent enough time in Theodore’s company to know the subtle inflections and tell them apart - but he could not get rid of the misgiving, almost stern expression on his face just moments ago. Perhaps he was reading too much into it, though. Christine’s death had shaken the London Vampires from their feeling of safety and sacrosanct belief that nothing could hurt them. Theodore’s misgiving could be justified - after all, it had been Farfarello to whom they could accredit that death.


Could they?


The more he thought about it, the more Schuldig knew that there was still something missing in the puzzle. Maybe not an important part, but it was something he needed to know or he would probably think about it for the rest of his eternity.


Maybe he just wanted to see Farfarello again.


He went straight to Mayfair and reached the house when the light of the new morning began to turn black into murky grey hung with thick, menacing clouds. There had been sleet and ice mixed in with the recent downpours that did nothing to wash the dirt of London’s seedier houses but everything to make walking through the muddy streets an adventure. It was the time of the year when hunting more often than not meant choosing a brothel or a pub and look for someone suitable there; when winter came with its tight grip of biting cold and snow, finding a mortal to feed on could be a real adventure.


It was amusing to contemplate that the Felidae must have it easier when it came to feeding no matter what season it was; they could always slip into their feline form and follow and unsuspecting mortal home. No matter how rotten life for the mortals might be, Schuldig knew from observation that they would rather starve to death themselves than let a pet die of hunger or neglect. Then he thought about a dirty, thin child, rubbing its grubby fingers through the soft fur of a cat only to shriek in terror when the cat suddenly turned into a man, or a woman, hungry eyes and hungry claws, and did not find it all that amusing anymore.


Out of what was now habit, Schuldig scanned the edges of the rooftops as he neared the house. Here and there, he saw the dark shape of a Felidae, sitting still as statues next to smoking chimneys. They ignored him or they sent to Farfarello that he was on his way; the closer he came to the house the more Schuldig picked up on the excitement that hung in the air and thickened to an almost suffocating cloud as he stepped onto the porch and knocked on the door. A rugged-looking male opened and stepped into his way without a word, eyeing him suspiciously.


 "What do you want?"


 "Is Farfarello here?" The unfriendly welcome did not sit well with Schuldig. He squared his shoulders, staring up at the man. It had to be one of Farfarello’s guards; the man looked to be well into his forties and was nearly an entire head taller than the Vampire, with large hands and a square, scarred chin. "I’d like to talk to him."


 "He has no time for that now." The man kept watching his every move as though he was expecting an attack and went on, "Maybe later when the challenge is over." A dry, humourless chuckle accompanied his words. "If he’s still alive by then, I mean."


Schuldig blinked. He took the final step and stood on the threshold, nose to throat with the man. "What’s that supposed to mean? What challenge? Where is he?"


The guard looked back over his shoulder. A young woman in a long, shapeless dress appeared behind him and looked at Schuldig through narrowed eyes. "Let him in. He’s been here before."


 "I know, but -"


 "Let him see it if he’s so keen on it." The viciousness in her voice was hard to miss. She turned away and disappeared again, leaving the man to regard Schuldig with undisguised suspicion once more. Now that an invitation had been more or less extended, the Vampire wasted no more time and pushed past the guard, stopping once he was inside the house. On the stairs up to the first floor sat a huge group of cats, watching him with wide open eyes. They were of all shapes and colours, young and adult mixed together.


The charged atmosphere affected Schuldig and made him nervous. Something was going on - a challenge, that much he knew by now - and it seemed to be of tremendous importance. There were excited voices and harsh sounds, but they did not come from the first floor. Nor did they come from the ground floor.


 "They’re down there," The guard appeared at Schuldig’s side and pointed at a door to the left of the staircase. "Go on down if you want, but I wouldn’t interrupt them if I were you."


As he opened the door, Schuldig could clearly hear the unmistakable sounds of a fight. What caused him to reel and reach for the edge of the door, though, was the scent of freshly spilled blood that greeted him. He stood at the head of a staircase leading down into the cellar of the house. There was no light on the stairs but he saw the unruly shine of fire further down at the foot. As he descended, he could make out single words in what seemed to be a choir, a chanting of human-sounding and feline voices. English and other languages mixed together into a disturbing, hair-rising wall of sound.


The stairs ended at a narrow doorway that opened into a large, dank cellar. The ceiling was low enough that Schuldig could have touched it easily if he extended his arm. He walked into the cellar and nearly stumbled over a group of cats sitting close to the entrance. They ignored him, their maws open to make sounds no cat should have been able to make, and kept their backs turned to him to watch the breathtaking scene acted out before them. Before Schuldig’s eyes stopped at Farfarello’s bloody body, he noticed a handful of Felidae in their human form, crouching at the far wall and to the sides. All in all, it must have been over a hundred of them squeezed into the cellar, forming a tight circle around the two men in their midst. Together with the catkin sitting on the stairs and the ones that had to be scattered all over the house, it was easy to believe that nearly the entire clan was assembled. He made that observation on the side, eyes locking on what was going on before him.


The ferocity of the fight between Farfarello and another male was as breathtaking as it was terrible. Schuldig noticed a presence at his back but could not turn away from the fight, transfixed by the sheer brutality of the scene.


 "He was challenged for leadership," a voice announced close to his ear. "This fight decides if Farfarello will still be our leader when the sun rises."


Both fighters were stripped to the waist, their feet bare. They had no weapons, but Schuldig had firsthand experience in what a Felidae could do with their fingernails; both Farfarello and the other male were bleeding from deep scratches all over their bodies. Their movement was too fast for even Schuldig to see any details, but he saw the small puddles of blood on the floor where their feet had not stepped into them and turned the steps of this macabre dance into bloody footprints marking a slow and brutal way to death.


When the sun rises... Did that mean the fight would go on until the sun rose? Until one of them died or gave up? If so, what would happen to the loser? He tore his eyes away from the fight for a moment and watched the fervent excitement on the faces of the Felidae who were in their human form; they shouted and waved their arms, cheering for whoever they had chosen as their champion. He did not put it beyond them to tear into who would be the loser, the intensity of their screams and shouts making his skin crawl. He had to think of Romans sitting in the Coliseum, untouched by the brutality before their eyes, cheering for death and destruction to have something to distract themselves from their own personal hells.


Farfarello seemed to pick up his pace, his motions becoming faster and faster while his opponent showed the first signs of fatigue. Both of them were bleeding heavily now, bite wounds and scratch marks all over them, but the amber-eyed Felidae seemed to have reserves of strength his challenger lacked. Schuldig’s breath caught as he saw the expression on Farfarello’s sweaty face - the smile stretching bloodied lips was so out of place that the Vampire had to forcibly remind himself that this was the same Felidae he knew and not some demon that had crawled out of hell. He seemed to enjoy the fight.


The chanting rose in intensity and volume until it was all Schuldig could hear. His ears rang with a hundred voices, all of them screaming for a decision, an end of the challenge. Farfarello twisted away from his opponent’s grasping hands and turned, swinging his foot up. He caught the other male in the side of the throat and caused him to stumble sideways and fall to one knee; what happened then was gruesome enough to almost make Schuldig close his eyes as he saw it come. Grasping the other Felidae’s head in both hands, Farfarello twisted it around and broke his challenger’s neck, wrenching a throaty howl from him that ended abruptly. Then Farfarello bent down over his exposed throat and bit into it, shaking his head - the silence that had suddenly fallen over the assembled Felidae became all the more profound as the Vampire could hear skin tear, the crunch of cartilage, the liquid spurt of blood.


Farfarello’s challenger fell, a gaping hole in his throat. Light blood cascaded from severed arteries, and to his surprise Schuldig heard, through the leaden stillness, the last dying breaths whisper out of that gaping wound.


A light touch on his shoulder brought him back around. The woman who had spoken to the guard stood behind him, though nothing was left now of the viciousness she had shown before. The smile on her face was triumphant. "Long live the king," she whispered, her words echoed by other Felidae in the cellar. Schuldig turned around once more and watched Farfarello turn from his fallen challenger, chest, shoulders and stomach smeared with his own and the other Felidae’s blood. His chest was heaving, but the expression on his face spoke of pride and victory. The psychotic smile on his lips faltered for a second as he saw Schuldig, but he turned his back to the Vampire as the circle of Felidae broke apart and those in their human form stepped up to their old new leader.


Schuldig was not sure he understood. The joy on those Felidae’s faces seemed to be real enough considering they had cheered for the dead challenger. Would it not be wiser to eliminate those who had sought to oppose their king simply by cheering for the other one? Would a new challenge not be bread right among those who now stood around Farfarello, touching his shoulders, his hair, his chest?


Why were they touching him at all? He watched the submissive smiles on their faces, the way their hands touched Farfarello as though they were trying to apologize for cheering for the dead one, and felt a streak of anger and jealousy wash through him. He had no rights to lay any claims on the leader of the catkin, but he had seen those others scream and chant and knew they would be doing the same now if Farfarello lay on the ground there and his opponent had won. This was the first time that Schuldig had been close to something that seemed tradition among this particular Dark Breed, and he disliked it immensely.


Schuldig ignored the angry yowl of the Felidae before him as he stepped over their heads and pushed some of them aside. Farfarello turned around just as he reached the group of human Felidae and narrowed his eyes at him, brushing the hands of the others off. They did not seem to be fond of the interruption, staring at Schuldig with undisguised anger. He saw the male and the female who had been in Anna’s company and held their stares easily. "We need to talk."


Farfarello did not answer. He was still breathing hard, the line of his shoulders trembling, sweat running down his face and chest. Holding Schuldig’s eyes for a long moment, he inclined his head. "Leave the house. The challenge is done."


The order was meant for the others. Schuldig caught a few sneers directed at him as the human Felidae walked past him and left the cellar; he had not made friends by appearing like this. Shielding his thoughts - something he had practised over the last few days - he thought that did not want them as friends, anyway.


With friends like these, no one needed enemies.


---


 "You’re wondering about our customs," Farfarello said lightly as he walked up the stairs before Schuldig, leaving bloody footprints on the marble. Walking a few steps behind him, Schuldig watched the muscles in the Felidae’s back as he moved, tracing the countless scratches and bruises on the fair skin. He fixed his eyes on the back of Farfarello’s head and sighed at the words, trailing his hand along the banister. "You’re wondering why I didn’t kill those who opposed me."


 "Yes." Farfarello must have listened to his thoughts while the Vampire had been too captured by the fight to think about shielding them. "But I didn’t come here to discuss what must be holy traditions among the Felidae."


Farfarello’s light chuckle was tinged with fatigue, belying the apparent carelessness towards his wounds. Perhaps, as king, he was not allowed to show weakness in front of the clan. The more he thought about it, the more Schuldig thought that of all Dark Breeds, the Felidae seemed to be the most arcane. Even the Wer had better rules to their societies.


 "So why did you come here?" Farfarello turned at the head of the stairs and blocked Schuldig’s path, grinning sardonically. "Missed me?"


There were deep scratches along Farfarello’s chest, marring the sleek lines of muscle. The blood on his skin was beginning to dry and flake off, making him look as though he had rolled around in a mud pool and then come inside to the warmth of a fire. Hair sweaty and plastered to his forehead, the right side of his face marred by a darkening bruise, there was nothing even remotely attractive about him at the moment.


Yet Schuldig found him irresistible. It seemed to be his fate to fall for someone he was not supposed to even talk to under normal circumstances, much less desire. Someone whose motives were as elusive as his past; though the Vampire thought he knew the past that haunted Farfarello to this very day and age, he had no idea why the Felidae did not seem to be willing to escape it. His very presence in London made Farfarello someone whose grudges could indeed survive the centuries. It did not make him someone Schuldig felt he could ever trust.


It made him someone Schuldig could spend centuries trying to understand.


Standing at the head of the stairs still, Farfarello inclined his head as though he was trying to listen to Schuldig’s thoughts. The expression on his face was wistful as he reached up and rubbed a hand over his brow, smearing sweat and blood across his skin. His hand dropped to the banister, fingers clenching around the wood. His lips moved around words that never reached Schuldig’s ears; with a small sigh, Farfarello sat down on the top stair and wrapped his arms around his knees. "It is not easy."


 "What isn’t easy?" The sudden change in behaviour left Schuldig swimming. He stayed where he was, watching Farfarello who seemed nothing more than a tired, young man now, a mortal. A very bloody mortal with amber eyes and red hair.


 "This, you...everything."


 "And I have it easier? It took me three days to get over the fact that you played with me."


 "Played?" Farfarello looked up at him and frowned.


 "You don’t really expect me to believe that what happened in that ‘throne room’ of yours was nothing but a distraction to keep me from asking too many questions." Schuldig held up his hand as Farfarello opened his mouth and went on, "Don’t tell me now it wasn’t."


 "It wasn’t. Why are you here, Schuldig? If I just played with you, why are you here?" Farfarello sounded tired and did not bother to hide it. "What makes you think you’re the only one who’s...interested? You’re not the only trespasser here. Some of my guards have made bets when you’d next appear."


The admission softened his heart although his mind did not want to believe it. His ego did not want to believe it. Schuldig wanted something more. "Even if you are...it was a convenient intermezzo, wasn’t it? You and I cooped up in there, while Anna kills William outside..." He trailed off, giving the Felidae an expecting glance.


 "It was convenient, you are right, but it wasn’t planned. I knew Anna was going to seek revenge - and why should she not? It was her child that died. There’s nothing worse than a mother’s rage. But perhaps you know nothing of that because your kind doesn’t breed. William had been scouring the streets of Mayfair for days. It was only a matter of time, and I told you that before." Farfarello sighed once more, heavily, and rested his head on his arms. His voice was muffled as he went on, "Look, can we talk about this some other time? I’ve just fought for both my post and my life, and I’m not in the best shape right now."


 "What would you have me do?"


Farfarello looked up and extended a hand. He did not speak until the Vampire walked up the remaining stairs that separated them and then reached for his hand, lacing their fingers together. He pulled himself back up to his feet, pressing against Schuldig, mindless of the sweat and blood he left all over the Vampire’s clothes. Burying his face in the crook of Schuldig’s shoulder, Farfarello wrapped his other arm around his waist and pulled him closer as though he wanted their bodies to fuse.


He never said what he wanted Schuldig to do but he did not protest either as Schuldig began to gently push him backward, slowly manoeuvring them toward the room at the end of the corridor. Apparently unwilling to let go of him even as they moved through the door into the chaos of furniture, glass and blankets, Farfarello pulled Schuldig down on top of him as he felt the edge of the bed at his knees, wrapping himself so completely around the Vampire that Schuldig thought chains could not have done a better job of keeping him in place. It took a few minutes of moving and rearranging limbs until they found a position that was comfortable for them both. Schuldig mourned the lack of pillows and blankets but having Farfarello’s back pressed against his chest made up for that. He buried his nose in the hair at the nape of the Felidae’s neck, ignoring the sharp scent of sweat and all the more distinct smell of blood. Then he laid his cheek against the side of Farfarello’s head and watched their entangled fingers, lying against Farfarello’s stomach, rise and fall with the Felidae’s breaths.


 "You’re going to stick to my clothes," Schuldig said after a while. He rubbed his lips over a long, shallow cut on Farfarello’s shoulder, the tip of his tongue sneaking out to taste the blood. He remembered the tongue bath Farfarello had given him last time and decided to pay him back now. Their position did not allow him much reach, but the Felidae stretched and rubbed back against him as Schuldig carefully cleaned all those cut he had access to. "You should take a bath or at least wash. Come night, you’ll rip those cuts open all over again."


 "So tear me open, pour me out..."[1]


He had to snicker at the decidedly morbid tone of voice, but the thought of having to forcibly remove Farfarello from his clothes when they got back up persisted. Untangling himself proved hard work as the Felidae did not seem to be willing to let go. When Schuldig finally crawled off the bed, Farfarello sat up as well and glowered at him, "If you don’t come back here this very second I’ll pounce."


 "I’ll come back with a wash cloth and then you can pounce." Turning to find his way back to the door, Schuldig listened for sounds and looked back over his shoulder to see Farfarello still sitting on the bed, rubbing a hand over his eyes. The Felidae looked dead tired. "How long did that fight last, anyway?"


 "Six hours or so. I didn’t really pay attention to the time."


Six hours? Schuldig blinked and stared, trying to comprehend. "You fought one guy for six hours?"


 "Not one guy. Eight. Three sisters, five brothers."


The nonchalance with which Farfarello stated the figure seemed a complete oxymoron to what it implied - and explained why the catkin seemed ready to drop off to sleep any moment now. Standing at the door, Schuldig slowly shook his head. "I guess you can call yourself lucky that they didn’t all attack you at the same time, hm?"


 "That would be against the rules. One at a time," Farfarello said matter-of-factly. "I’ve had worse fights. I’ve been the leader of this clan for a very long time."


And undoubtedly he had paid for this post with a lot of blood, not to mention the number of deaths he must have caused even among his own kind. Schuldig again contemplated the rules that dictated the lives of the Felidae and how little he approved of them. To be forced to accept a challenge from his own brothers and sisters and fight them to the death was not something Schuldig thought he would be able to accomplish unless it directly threatened his life.


 "How can you live like this?" Schuldig asked, aware that he was questioning, if not insulting, everything Farfarello lived for. "How can you stand being what you are?"


 "I know nothing else. I’ve lived like this all my life." The Felidae seemed too tired to even take offence and kept rubbing a hand over his eyes. "Bathroom’s at the other end of the corridor."


When Schuldig returned with a wet wash cloth, Farfarello lay rolled together at the very edge of the bed, fast asleep. He stirred as the Vampire settled down next to him, brows drawing together at the touch of the wet cloth on his skin, but his eyes did not open even as Schuldig cleaned the blood off as best as he could. The light of the new day began to stream in through the windows when he was done, shadows cast by the furniture stretching to reach the bed. Schuldig dropped the bloodied cloth onto the floor and stretched out behind Farfarello, wrapping an arm around him once more.


He could not sleep although he tried. Maybe it was the unfamiliar bed, maybe it was the reversal of roles. Schuldig idly contemplated how Farfarello had watched over his sleep once and that he was now doing he very same. That Farfarello trusted him so easily at his back amazed the Vampire.


 "I’ll never figure you out," Schuldig said into the hair at the back of Farfarello’s head, nearly expecting him to wake up and answer. Yet the Felidae slept on, undisturbed, the deep sleep of exhaustion. "I’ll never understand myself, either."


---


He must have fallen asleep after all because the dreams he had were disturbing. He knew on some level that he was dreaming as he found himself standing in the dank cellar again, surrounded by Felidae in cat and human form, their eyes hungrily eating at him. There was a low murmur of voices around him, but none of them moved their mouths. They just stared, as though they were waiting for him to do or say something.


He moved his feet and stepped into something wet. Looking down, Schuldig saw the puddles of blood on the ground, around his bare feet. His chest was bare as well - there were scratches, bite marks, the slight shine of sweat on his skin.


The presence at his back made itself noticed so suddenly that he spun around too quickly and nearly stumbled, catching his balance at the last moment. It was all that saved him from a punch coming his way, a punch that might have taken out an eye, split a lip, cracked a bone. He spun around and kicked more out of surprise than calculated reaction and caught Farfarello in the stomach, pushing him back. The leader of the Felidae grinned, the expression on his face nothing short of raving madness as he pressed forward again, hands lifted, fingers bent to claws. Schuldig ducked under the next blow and heard the air sing around Farfarello’s fingernails as he hit the floor and rolled, blood and dust sticking his hair to his back.


What disturbed him most was the sight of Farfarello’s slit pupils, bright amber surrounding them. Schuldig opened his mouth, tried to shout, but all that came from his throat was a dry, hacking cough as a fist caught him square in the face, Farfarello’s entire weight behind the punch. He felt the cartilage of his nose shatter and burst and blood run down the back of his throat, the pain like a blinding light coming at him from all sides. Landing on his back, Schuldig brought his arms up to shield his face from further damage and curled his legs up close to his stomach.


 "You know nothing!" Farfarello bellowed, so agitated that his voice broke on the last word. "Nothing! You understand nothing at all!"


Schuldig glanced up at him through the shield of his arms, saw madness and death, and woke abruptly, jerked from his sleep as a hand settled on his cheek. His muscles tensed as he stared at Farfarello’s face from up close, concern in those amber eyes. Finding his hands pressed against Farfarello’s chest, ready to push him away and off the bed - they lay face to face, with the Felidae still perched at the edge of the bed - Schuldig needed a long moment to find his bearings before he relaxed enough to take a deep, cleansing breath. His muscles hurt. The phantom ache of a shattered nose made him grit his teeth hard enough to make the muscles in his jaw hurt as well.


 "Just a dream," Schuldig finally pressed out, making an effort to relax. "Did I wake you?" He lifted his head and glanced at the room, finding it cast into semi-darkness once more. It had to be close to evening. Had they slept all day? He caught Farfarello’s hand as it slid off his face, the knuckles cold against his lips as he kissed them. "I’m sorry."


Farfarello’s expression was sad and closed off. "I’m sorry. Such dreams..." He trailed off, moving his fingers against Schuldig’s face as the Vampire started to rub his lips over the back of his hand. "I want you to dream of me, but not like this. Never like this."


Not the words, but the tone of voice made Schuldig shudder. He clasped the Felidae’s hand tighter and stroked his thumb over Farfarello’s palm, realizing that the intensity of the dream must have been like a beacon to his telepathy, waking him up. As it was, Farfarello’s eyes were still small with sleepiness. He blinked owlishly as Schuldig let go of his hand and wrapped his arm around him, pulling him close. Had he expected rejection?


 "You’re cold." Feeling Goosebumps under his fingers, Schuldig sighed, glancing at the lengthening shadows cast by the furniture. "It’s icy in here. You’ll catch a cold." He sniffed. "And you stink of sweat and blood."


That brought a grin to Farfarello’s lips. "How concerned you are! Are you inviting me to another bath at your place?"


 "No, but I think you could make use of the perfect bathtub I saw in the bathroom at the end of the corridor." Now that he thought of it, Schuldig realized that his own skin and hair seemed to have soaked up the very substances he smelled on Farfarello, their sharp odour more distinct now than they had been hours ago. The lack of living comforts was another thing he could not understand about the Felidae - they had this house, but instead of using it they methodically demolished the furniture and preferred cold rooms and beds without blankets. "Is there a rule among your kin that forbids you to use bathrooms and fireplaces?"


Giving a small shrug, Farfarello blinked once more and yawned, apparently ready to drop off to sleep again. "No rule."


 "Then why..."


 "You ask too many questions for such an ungodly hour."


Schuldig sighed as Farfarello closed his eyes, knowing he could not go back to sleep again. The Felidae seemed content where he was, snuggled up against him, but the idea of warmth and a bath was foremost on Schuldig’s mind now, forcing him to move around restlessly until Farfarello sighed as well, cracked an eye open again and said, "All right."


He detected a note of forced amusement in his voice. "Don’t make it sound as though I’m forcing you to do something you don’t want."


 "You’re forcing me to do a lot of things I don’t want," Rolling away from Schuldig and off the bed, Farfarello stretched, leaving the Vampire to follow as he strolled to the door and out into the corridor. He did not explain his words further and ignored Schuldig’s scowl, leading the way into the bathroom.


They said nothing as they waited for the water to heat. With just a few words Farfarello had managed to completely shatter the illusion of intimacy between them, reminding Schuldig once more that they were both trespassers in this. Sourly, Schuldig asked himself if Farfarello was doing it on purpose. Or was he merely stating facts?


Farfarello kept watching him out of the corner of his eyes, expression set between anticipation and something else. "You’ve become quite good at shielding yourself."


He had been working on that and now was able to run a current of steady images through his mind without having to think about it while his thoughts ran beneath. "That bothers you."


 "It’s annoying. I pick up what’s foremost on your mind if I want it or not, and as much as I appreciate your obvious interest in the English culture, being exposed to a slideshow of London’s architectural wonders for hours on end is tiring."


 "So is having to think of it." Schuldig remembered what Anna had told him and wondered how many of the younger Felidae had the telepathy Farfarello used. Then he thought of Anna’s corpse, of her broken neck, and forced himself to concentrate on pouring hot water into the claw-footed bathtub. It was nothing he wanted to remember now. "I’ll stop doing it when you stop reading my thoughts."


Farfarello shrugged, "Not possible. Big Ben in all its glory it is, then."


The bathroom was small and had been stripped of its furniture as well, the Felidae’s seemingly mindless redecoration urges leaving it only with the bathtub and an oven sitting next to the window. There was a stack of towels and wash cloths on the windowsill, stacked untidily into a corner. The room heated up quickly with the steam rising from the hot water. Schuldig stripped off his shirt and shoes, then started to unfasten his pants. The warmth felt good against his skin after a day spent sleeping in a cold room. He folded his clothes and put them on the windowsill, and when he turned around Farfarello stood naked next to the bathtub, stirring the water with a hand. The dirty pants he had worn lay in a crumbled heap by the door. The sight of his long-limbed, pale and lean body made Schuldig’s mouth go dry.


He wanted him so much. He wanted to touch him, have him, possess him, without any disturbances intruding on what seemed a mutual interest that was doomed from the start. The dream had rattled him, as his dreams usually did lately, and Schuldig wanted a distraction. They had been close on several occasions, but always something had interrupted them.


Desire and anticipation flushing his skin, Schuldig walked over and caught Farfarello around the waist, pressing their bodies together. The steam rising from the bathtub finally brought warmth to the Felidae’s skin. Farfarello craned his neck, bringing his face very close to Schuldig’s, and breathed against his cheek, "Excited, are you?"


He did not bother to deny it and pressed his growing arousal more firmly against the Felidae’s backside, nudging him, and trailed his free hand down Farfarello’s stomach, brushing curly hair and silken skin. "If anyone interrupts us now I’m going to kill them no matter what."


Farfarello laughed, a deep, breathy sound that reverberated through his entire body and seemed to transmute into electricity where their bodies touched. Schuldig grasped him, held him, and rubbed a thumb over the head of his cock, eliciting a sharp groan. He was a little surprised as Farfarello then wound himself out of his arms and stepped into the bathtub, immediately sitting down in the steaming water.


 "Bath first." An impish grin on his lips, Farfarello splashed water at the Vampire, leaning back against the side of the tub. "Come here."


It was an invitation Schuldig would not have needed. It was hard to keep himself from pouncing the Felidae as he followed him into the tub, mindless of the water that splashed over the edge. The tub was not large - it certainly had not been build with the intention of having room for more than one person - but that was all right with Schuldig as well. He wanted to be as close to Farfarello as possible now, anyway.


They played around for a good ten minutes, splashing water at each other, as though the simple act of taking a bath together somehow washed away all the gruesome circumstances that surrounded their meeting and still influenced the way they saw each other. Schuldig found it all easy to ignore - the deaths, the suspicions, and the questions he still wanted answers to - as he trapped Farfarello against the side of the tub and explored his chest with fingers and lips, at first taking care to avoid the scratches and bite marks marring the fair skin. Most of them had already closed - in fact, Schuldig inspected one on the cusp of Farfarello’s shoulder and wondered how quickly it was healing - but the heat and the water loosened up the scabs. He trailed his lips over a particularly deep one and tasted blood against the tip of his tongue. Pulling back, Schuldig licked his lips.


 "More."


Farfarello laid his head back against the edge of the tub and watched him through narrowed eyes, his face slack. He lifted a dripping hand out of the water and placed it over his own heart, fingers curling against the skin. "I’ve had yours."


He let no further explanation follow but hissed, the sharp edge of a fingernail opening a line down his chest. Schuldig watched, transfixed, as blood welled from the small wound, mixing with the drops of water on Farfarello’s skin. He moved forward, reaching for Farfarello’s hand to pull it down, and fastened his lips over the wound, the taste of fresh, unknown blood exploding into his mouth. Again their roles had been reversed; Schuldig was now wrapping his arms around Farfarello’s middle, pulling him closer, feeling his legs slips around his waist as they folded their bodies into one another. The wound did not give him much - just a shallow cut, nothing more - but enough to wake the hunger for more in him. Knowing a dangerous chain reaction could be started that way - and how was it for the Felidae, who experienced the same bloodlust the Vampire did? Was it the same craving, the same mindless need? - he pulled back again, tongue and teeth singing with desire.


He heard whispers, voices and cobweb-thin sounds, fading as quickly as they had come, and shuddered.


Farfarello breathed hard, chest heaving. His arms stretched out along the edge of the tub, the Felidae’s head rolled from side to side, eyes closed. Schuldig watched him and cupped his cheek with a hand, holding him still. Farfarello’s eyes did not open even as the Vampire’s mouth descended on his, lips parting willingly to allow Schuldig entrance into the hot cavity. He felt Farfarello’s heart hammer against his skin as they pressed together, splashing more water onto the floor.


Heat, desire and the still lingering taste of blood in his mouth slowly drove all rational thought from Schuldig’s mind. The world narrowed down to just him and Farfarello and the hot water around them. Had it not been for the limited space, he could have spent hours in the tub, kissing the Felidae. The longer he did, the more familiar Farfarello’s taste became to him, until his entire being felt saturated with the spiciness that was Farfarello’s unique scent echoed into his blood. Yet the kiss never rose above the heights of exploring and languid, slow and gentle.


Eventually, Farfarello started to roll his hips against Schuldig’s groin, fingers scrabbling at his shoulders, his chest, his arms. He was the one to break the kiss, head falling back to expose his throat and allow Schuldig to explore there, and say, "Let’s get out of the water."


The thought of leaving the tub to return to the cold, chaotic throne room and the bare bed made Schuldig frown. He tightened his arms around Farfarello, teeth gently worrying at his collar bones, and contemplated persuading Farfarello to stay here, where it was warm and comfortable.


 "Schuldig..." Farfarello trailed his fingers down Schuldig’s back, scratching lightly at the skin. He moved in the cage of the Vampire’s arms, pressing himself closer, and finally lifted Schuldig’s head between both hands. "We’re clean. We’re wrinkled. And I really want to take this beyond the kissing and soaking in hot water stage."


The dry words made him chuckle, but still... "Got any place in this house that is not stripped of all furniture and cold?"


Farfarello grinned. "You must think us barbarians."


 "Close. From what I’ve seen..."


Farfarello dipped his head forward and caught Schuldig’s lips in a deep kiss. They were both breathing hard by the time they parted again, and the smile on the Felidae’s lips was positively devilish. "You haven’t seen anything yet."


 "Really?" Curiosity piqued, Schuldig inclined his head and fixed Farfarello with an expectant look. "Show me, then."


---


Wrapped in nothing but his own wet skin and hair plastered to his back, Schuldig felt odd as he wandered through the ghostly silent house, Farfarello by his side. He could not get rid of the impression that there were others around them, hiding around corners, sitting behind curtains, even though Farfarello told him twice that they were alone and that no one would interrupt them. The abrupt change from steamy warmth to the dry cold of the rest of the house was little to Schuldig’s liking, and as Farfarello led him down to the ground floor and to the back of the house, he wondered if it maybe had not been the better idea to stay in the bathroom.


Farfarello opened a door at the end of a narrow corridor and ushered Schuldig into the room beyond. Expecting to be met with a similar chaos like upstairs, Schuldig was pleasantly surprised to see that there were blankets and pillows on the floor but no furniture scattered all over the room. There was only a single window, going out into the garden behind the house. Schuldig walked over to it, looking outside at wet foliage and high grass that had not been cut in months. He drew the curtains, casting the room into semi-darkness. Golden light chased away the shadows as Farfarello lit several candles sitting on a small table next to the heap of blankets and then busied himself with the glowing embers in the fireplace on the other side of the room. Soon, a flickering glow heralded the warmth that to Schuldig felt like a caressing hand. He glanced at the window once more, ensured that no prying eyes would be able to catch sight of them, and joined Farfarello in front of the fireplace.


It was so hopelessly romantic a setting that he had to grin. The candles, the flickering fire - he ran a hand over the blankets he sat on and found them soft and thick. There was no bed, but they would do just fine. He experienced a stab of anticipation as Farfarello turned from the fire and sat down on his heels, watching him for a long moment before he let himself down on hands and knees and stalked over.


 "Why is this room fine while all the others are in chaos?"


 "No need for order in the others." The Felidae wasted no time and moved right into Schuldig’s lap, knees settling on either side of the Vampire’s thighs, hands descending on his shoulders to push him down against the blankets. "Why create order if chaos is natural?"


 "The very form of chaos insinuates order," Schuldig plunked onto his back and reached up, running his hands along Farfarello’s side before he gripped his hips, thumbs moving over the sharp edges of hip bones. Poised above him as he was, with the fire behind him, Farfarello’s face was once again bathed in shadows. His arousal had lessened during the trip through the house, but now that he finally had his comfortable surrounding, his warmth, and assured that no one would interrupt them, Schuldig needed only to think of what was to follow to harden again. And as Farfarello ground himself down on him Schuldig closed his eyes in bliss and sighed.


Again, Farfarello wasted no time. His hands seemed to be everywhere at once, plucking at Schuldig’s nipples, stroking along his ribs, his thighs, his cock. Lips joined questing fingers, creating a web of tingling nerves along the length of Schuldig’s body. He arched his back into the touches and kisses and ran his fingers through Farfarello’s hair as the Felidae took him into his mouth, concentrating all the sensation on a single spot. The slick pleasure of the hot, wet suction washed over him in waves, leaving him mindless once more.


He moaned in disappointment as Farfarello pulled away and lifted his head to look down.


 "Wha -"


The question died on his tongue. Crouched between his legs, one set of fingers wrapped firmly around the root of Schuldig’s cock, Farfarello looked like a dangerous animal ready to pounce. His eyes were on fire, the pupils narrowed to slits. Schuldig blinked, expecting the picture to change, but it did not, and he felt alarmed and unsettled all of a sudden as he thought about the absurdity of Farfarello changing into his cat form now.


Their eyes always changed first.


He lifted himself onto his elbows, panting, and jerked as Farfarello moved as well, shifting position between his legs. Fingertips moved over his balls, pressed against the sensitive skin behind them. Fingertips turned to knuckles, and the firm massage that followed, brief as it may have been, had the Vampire groaning and panting for more. Schuldig’s breath caught in his throat as he felt a single finger trace the puckered ring of muscle between his buttocks, teasing, taunting. Their gazes fixed on each other, Schuldig could not bring himself to look away from those predatory eyes.


There was no question as to who would be the dominant one in this encounter. Farfarello certainly seemed to think so as he brought two fingers to his mouth and sucked them in between his lips, the gesture as obscene as it was arousing. With his body keeping Schuldig’s legs spread and his other hand still wrapped snugly around Schuldig’s cock, there was no escaping the wet finger that insistently pressed into him. The sensation came as much as a surprise as the stab of pleasure that made Schuldig’s arms give out. He fell back down onto the blankets, torn between wanting to pull away and pushing closer.


 "Scared?" Farfarello asked in a rough voice, shifting up onto his knees to look down at Schuldig’s face. "Should I stop?"


An all too talented twist of finger robbed Schuldig of breath. He gave a weak laugh that turned into a groan as Farfarello none-too-gently pressed the second wet finger into him, the ring of muscle protesting the stretching with tiny but persisting stabs of pain.


 "Would you prefer me to spread my legs for you?"


And again with those railroad signs. Through the haze of pleasure, Schuldig saw the calculating, waiting expression on the Felidae’s face, wondering where he had missed the change from the almost needy being from yesterday night to willing supplicant to the decidedly aggressive version of Farfarello he was being faced with now. It was exhilarating and did not leave him with a lot of time to choose - if the choice had ever been his. If there was a choice at all. Farfarello pushed his fingers into him up to the knuckles, rotated them, and touched a spot that sent white noise straight to the Vampire’s head.


Elder. Pack leader.


Never before had Schuldig been so quickly and efficiently overwhelmed. He had counted on some kind of foreplay to decide who would be the -


- what? Submissive? Vessel?


Farfarello pulled his fingers out and pushed them back in and Schuldig’s thoughts feathered and died. Dominant, submissive, what did it matter? He wanted him now, whichever way possible. Loosely wrapping his legs around Farfarello’s waist, Schuldig gripped handfuls of the blankets he lay on and bared his teeth at him, hissing, "Take me."


Farfarello grinned decidedly too darkly and pulled out of him, stretching over to the side to reach for something at the edge of the heap of blankets. The small vial of clear liquid caught the shine of the fire once before it vanished out of Schuldig’s sight, but he could smell the scent of the oil as Farfarello uncorked the vial. He expected everything but not the fingers that once again entered him, easier now that a more suitable lubricant was spread over them.


 "Hold your legs up," Farfarello said.


Any embarrassment at exposing himself so completely to the Felidae vanished under the onslaught of pleasure that followed the fingers as Farfarello began to stretch him, displaying the very care Schuldig had thought he would be denied in the face of his aggressiveness. He was very quickly brought to a point where he did not care anymore, where all that mattered was that it just did not stop. He folded himself nearly in half, knees drawn up to his chest, and closed his eyes with a moan of approval as three fingers entered him. It did not matter if it was to concentrate on the pleasure or to escape the fixed gaze of Farfarello’s eyes.


Farfarello replaced his fingers with his cock, sliding in on one slow, torturously gentle thrust. Deeper, thicker, fuller - Schuldig let go of his knees and wrapped his legs around Farfarello’s back, crossing his ankles, and grabbed onto his waist to sharply pull him forward.


Farfarello hissed, the sound close to Schuldig’s ear. Opening his eyes, Schuldig gasped at the sight of Farfarello now hunched over him, hands on either side of his shoulders. His expression was pure bliss. Schuldig’s gaze wandered along the tensed, bunched muscle on his arms and shoulders; he felt the tremors where they were joined and shivered, his own muscles contracting. It made Farfarello groan. His eyes narrowed. He shifted a little above Schuldig and pulled his hips back, thrusting into him, the head of his cock rubbing over that sensitive spot inside the Vampire that sent coloured bursts of pleasure through Schuldig’s entire body. His moan of approval was met with a breathless growl as Farfarello set a fast, hard pace that quickly had both of them panting.


It went on for minutes that seemed to turn into hours, and whenever Schuldig thought Farfarello would shove him over that edge he felt lurking at the very border of his consciousness, the Felidae slowed down, shifted, and started again. He seemed to have found perverse pleasure in mercilessly bringing Schuldig close to orgasm only to then let him drop back to the burning, itching, needing stage of being brought back to the same point all over again.


 Do you like it? Is that what you wanted?


He must have dropped his shields, or perhaps they had dissolved under the pleasure, or perhaps he just did not care anymore. Unable to form a coherent answer, Schuldig gritted his teeth, fingers digging so hard into Farfarello’s hips that they had to leave bruises. He could have screamed in frustration as Farfarello suddenly stopped moving altogether, hips pressed tightly against Schuldig’s ass, and then pulled out.


The Felidae moved him as though he was a doll, rolling him onto his stomach and pulling him onto his knees. He spread his legs at the simple touch of a hand and pressed his brow against his arms, groaning into the blankets as he was filled again. One of Farfarello’s hands sneaked around his waist and wrapped around his aching cock, fisting him in time with the thrusts that rocked his entire body.


He came so hard he saw stars and started to shout as Farfarello continued to move, pain adding to pleasure as his muscles contracted sharply around the hard length filling him. The pleasure ricocheted through his body and poured out of his cock, over Farfarello’s fingers. He was ready to beg him to stop when Farfarello thrust once more and gave a strangled, strange growl, gripping Schuldig’s cock so hard the Vampire thought for one endlessly long moment he would rip it off in his excitement.


Yet the grip softened immediately, turned into stroking, gentle fingers, and then Farfarello pulled out of him and Schuldig simply collapsed forward with a groan of exhaustion. He felt empty, and now that the high of pleasure was slowly fading he felt the ache and the burn as well. Most of all though, he felt exhaustion. The muscles in his legs ached as he stretched them out. His knees stung.


 "Wimp," Farfarello said lightly, although he too sounded tired and out of breath. Schuldig turned his head and opened an eye to see him settle down at his side, wiping sweat from his brow. The desire to hit him for that remark passed quickly as he remembered that hitting Farfarello included moving, and there was no way in hell he could lift even a finger now.


 "I suppose you do that every day," Schuldig said, slightly annoyed. The ominous silence that followed made him open the other eye as well and give Farfarello a long, questioning stare. "...do you?"


 "No," Farfarello said, but the reluctance in his answer spoke volumes.


Schuldig was too tired and felt too good despite all the minor aches to ask more questions. He made a small sound of approval as Farfarello pulled a blanket over them both and settled in close, tangling their limbs together. The sweat on their skin dried quickly. Feeling drowsy and sated, Schuldig nearly purred as Farfarello began to stroke his back, apparently unable to hold still yet. He fell asleep under the gentle touches.


This time, he did not dream.


---


He woke to the feeling of something small and light walking over his naked back. He knew it was a kitten, felts its tiny paws along his spine and the tickle of whiskers as it sniffed on the nape of his back, and turned over carefully, wincing as several aches made themselves noticed at the same time. The most prominent one...well, that had to be expected. The kitten gave a small mew as it slipped off him and landed in the blankets at Schuldig’s side, but it did not scamper off even as the Vampire sat up, apparently unfazed by the sight of a naked, flame-haired stranger.


Looking around, Schuldig discovered that he was alone except for the company of the small cat. The fire had burned down but it was still comfortably warm in the room; grey, murky light tried to force its way past the curtains before the single window, letting him know that it was day outside. How long had he slept? He had lost all sense of time once more.


The kitten mewed. It was the same kitten Schuldig had seen Farfarello hold the first time he laid eyes on the leader of the Felidae. Reaching out, he carefully stroked his fingers along its soft fur and smiled as it immediately rolled over onto it back, expecting to be petted. He complied and discovered that the door was only leaned shut while he petted the kitten.


 Farfarello?


He froze at the wordless, angry answer. Ignoring the kittens protesting mewl, Schuldig rose, gathering the blanket as a makeshift toga around himself, and padded over to the door, giving it a small push. The corridor behind it was empty, but as he stepped outside he heard the faint words of a conversation going on somewhere in front of him.


The feeling of foreboding was like a fist slowly squeezing his innards together.


 "...told you I would deal with it, and I will!"


He walked around the stairwell and listened, following the sound of Farfarello’s agitated voice into a large room on the ground floor. The leader of the Felidae stood with his back to the door and did not turn as Schuldig walked in, but the three others standing around Farfarello did, fixing the Vampire with angry, hateful stares. Schuldig immediately recognized the male and the female he had seen in Anna’s company and returned their stares until they looked away from him.


The third Felidae was a tall, heavily muscles male that looked like the one who had opened the door to Schuldig the night before. He gave the Vampire an once-over before he turned his attention back to Farfarello and said, "Body was heavily mutilated. No clue who or what did it."


 "We all know who did it!" the female screeched, her finger pointed at Schuldig. "They did it! Why don’t you -"


Farfarello’s fist flew out fast and hard, catching her across the face with a loud smack. She stumbled back and fell, gasping, her hand pressed against the side of her face that was slowly turning red. Her companion and the tall male hastily retreated from Farfarello as he whirled to face the female sitting on the floor, his voice a dangerously low growl as he said, "Why don’t I what, Sara?"


Schuldig could only see the side of her face from his position by the door, but he could almost smell her fear as she stared up at her leader towering over her. Her eyes were wide. Farfarello took a step forward, causing her to cower with a small shriek, "I asked you a question, Sara. Answer me."


 "I - I -" Sara’s eyes flitted through the room, but Schuldig saw the two others look everywhere but at her. Feeling like nothing more than a spectator at this point, the Vampire watched her bow her head in a gesture of submission as she whispered, "Forgive me. It’s just - first Anna, and now -"


 "Never do that again," Farfarello interrupted her acidly, the threat in his very words freezing the air in the room. To Schuldig, it was as though Farfarello had suddenly grown a few inches, as though the anger and the very presence of his power made him taller, heavier, deadlier than the other three. This was decidedly not one of the times the leader of the Felidae tried to hide what had to be considerable strength. "Unless you want to be the next in the cellar - or on your own."


Sara bowed her head and whispered another apology, careful not to meet Farfarello’s gaze.


Witnessing something he was sure he was not meant to see or hear, Schuldig tried to make himself invisible. As interesting as watching Farfarello interact with his clan was, Schuldig knew a tense situation when he saw one, and this was nothing of his concern. Whatever had happened lay solely in Farfarello’s territory. Or did it?


Farfarello turned from the cowering female and asked, "Where is the body?"


 "Hidden beneath a bush close to the palace. Dead two days, maybe less." The muscled male shot Schuldig a glance, but this time there was curiosity mixed into the disapproval the Vampire felt as clearly as a slap to the face. "Thanks to the cold there’s no decomposition, but she’s been mutilated enough to make it hard to recognize her. Took us a while to figure out who she was."


 "We had a full gathering here yesterday night. Why did no one notice her absence then?"


 "I don’t know."


Schuldig felt something soft stroke against his bare ankle and looked down to see the kitten sitting next to his feet, looking up at him with guileless, wide eyes. It opened its tiny maw and yawned, then went up on its hind legs and playfully swiped at his leg, uttering a loud mew. Wincing at the shallow lines that opened on his skin, he bent down and picked it up, cradling it in the crook of his arm where it seemed to be content, and when he looked back at the other Felidae he found their eyes fixed on him with something akin to amusement.


It did not last long, however. Farfarello was the first to dismiss Schuldig and the kitten from his attention as he turned back to the two males and said in a deceptively soft voice, "I want you to find whoever was with her before she vanished. Who was the first to notice her absence?"


 "That would be her mate, Jake." The tall male gave a curt nod. "I’ll get him. I know where he is now."


 "Sara and Pavel - gather the clan."


Sara looked up at last, timidly asking, "Everyone?"


 "Everyone."


They did not look at Schuldig as they rushed from the room, eager to follow their leader’s command. Schuldig did not know if he should be amused or put off by the blatant show of leadership - or submission the others displayed. The Felidae indeed followed rules that would be considered arcane these days, starting with the way they lived to the way they thought, if those two were really different things. Even his post as Elder of London did not ensure Schuldig’s absolute reign, if it could be called such. It simply meant that he had a little more to say than the others when it came to decisions that concerned them all. Elder did not mean king among the Vampires. All too often it meant supervisor or being the shoulder someone else cried on.


Farfarello ruled. It was as simple as that. And none of the Felidae who lived and died under the rule of their king seemed to mind that fact. Schuldig was as much intrigued as sickened by both the simplicity of it all as well as its implications. If Farfarello told a brother and a sister to mate, would they do it? If he called one of the females to his bed, would she follow? Was that harem of cats he had seen here the first time a group of willing supplicants, or a band of intimidated cowards? He thought about Farfarello’s reluctant answer to Schuldig’s question about his experience. To Schuldig, all cats looked just like that - cats. He had no way of distinguishing male from female unless he turned one over and examined.


And where exactly did that put him, the Vampire?


He looked over his shoulder and caught Sara doing the same. This time, her glance was not nearly as hostile anymore, showing more concern than the outright hate he had seen in them when he walked in. The side of her face that Farfarello had struck was slowly turning a deep shade of crimson, marring her clean beauty. What was he to them? A trespasser or Farfarello’s flavour of the month?


He decided not to think about it for the sake of his own ego.


 "You have a good grip on your underlings," Schuldig commented lightly as the front door closed. He petted the kitten with one hand, watching Farfarello pace the length of the room before him. "Even the queen, bless her iron heart, could not put such fears into the hearts and minds of her servants."


 "They’re not my servants, they’re my clan," Farfarello corrected him, the words clipped, harsh.


 "Well, I certainly don’t see a difference. Would you care to tell me what happened?"


 "Can’t you guess?" There was impatience mixed in with the harshness now, as though he was dealing with a particularly dense member of his clan. Schuldig ignored the tone of voice and shrugged lightly; he had a good idea of what had happened but wanted to hear it from Farfarello himself. The Felidae gave a long, loud sigh and leaned against the wall, "We found another dead one."


 "I gathered as much from that...discussion just now."


 "Then why do you ask?" Farfarello shook his head and glared down at the floor before his feet. "They’re bringing the body. She was killed by a Vampire, no doubt about it."


Schuldig briefly closed his eyes, felt the kitten wind itself under his hand, and wished the Felidae had never set foot in London. He realized it was not so much for his sake but for theirs, his wishing to never have seen them. He had no idea what was going through Farfarello’s head at the moment, what plans he was making now. One thing he did know though was that things were likely to become more tangled, more violent, and more absurd. "What are you going to do?"


 "I told you nothing was finished with Anna’s and William’s deaths. I told you nothing was done."


 "You told me that nothing was settled and done." He sighed. "You rarely tell me anything."


 "I have no reason to."


That stung. Anger rising, Schuldig set the kitten down on the floor and crossed the room until he stood before Farfarello. "No reason to? What am I to you? Do you care about me at all?"


 "That has nothing to do with it." Easily, Farfarello held his stare. He had crossed his arms over his chest, as though he was trying to create a physical barrier between them. "What happens - happened between you and me has nothing to do with anything."


 "How can it not?" Schuldig asked, his voice steadily rising in volume. Farfarello’s choice of words made it sound as though their intimate encounter meant nothing now, as though it had only been a brief interlude. Harem of cats indeed. He would not be brushed off that easily; he would not be treated as a ‘snack’ between others. "A Felidae was killed by a Vampire, I am a Vampire, how has this nothing to do with me?"


 "You didn’t kill her, did you?"


 "You killed Christine, you bastard! You set William up and had Anna go in and kill him, just to settle an old score!" he screamed. "Yet I’m here! Yet I trust you! Why can’t you trust me? Why can’t you tell me what is going on, what is happening?"


Farfarello turned from him and walked to the door, stepping over the kitten. It shrank from him, mewing pitifully.


Schuldig could not believe that everything that had happened between them just hours ago meant nothing now. That Farfarello could so easily brush off the intimacy, brush off what they had shared - did that not mean anything to him at all?


 "Farfarello, if you walk out of that door now I swear I’ll never set foot in this house again."


The Felidae stopped just before he reached the door, his back turned to Schuldig. The line of his shoulders was tense, and the Vampire could see his hands clench into fists at his sides. He was going through something - but as long as he was not willing to share it with Schuldig, there was no way the Vampire could either help or understand him. It aggravated and frustrated Schuldig. It made him feel so completely worthless, so - used. He had given so much and received nothing in return. Was he not even worth an explanation to Farfarello?


 "What happens now," Farfarello said softly, his back still turned, "Is what I said would happen."


Schuldig remembered. "War." He shook his head. "You know what that means."


 "I’ll tell you something else." Farfarello’s face was expressionless as he turned around. "There is one more."


Surprise made him gape. "What?"


 "William and Christine weren’t the only ones who got away. The third one is hiding somewhere in London, and now he is finally beginning to show himself." Sneering, he went on, "Through murder. As it befits him."


Schuldig shook his head, mouth hanging open in the face of the revelation. "Wait...what are you saying?"


 "I’m saying the score isn’t settled yet." His words lacking every kind of inflection, Farfarello lifted his chin, glancing down his nose at the Vampire. "I’m going to say something else now. Listen well to me, Schuldig, because I’m saying it only once - I did not kill Christine. And neither did any of my clan."


He walked out before Schuldig had the chance to say another word. The kitten mewed, looking back and forth between the door and Schuldig, and finally scampered out as well, leaving the Vampire alone in the large, empty room.


---


There was no sight or sound of any Felidae as Schuldig left the house in Mayfair in a hurry, and none of the mortals paid any attention to the flame-haired, harried-looking young man as he strode down the streets. It was late afternoon - he had completely misjudged the time thanks to his arriving early in the morning and staying for what had to be two days - and the murky, stale light hurt his eyes, but Schuldig was past the point of caring as he went over what Farfarello had told him.


Three. Three Vampires, three who had gotten away before Farfarello’s wrath descended on the others back then in Ireland. Three who, over the centuries, had survived the teeth of time eating away at the Felidae’s memory until he found them again in London of all places?


Schuldig did try to understand the workings of Farfarello’s mind as far as this was concerned. How such need for revenge could last for such a last time was beyond his understanding; he did not know if he should term it petty or pitiful, that even after all these years Farfarello was set on finding those who had escaped him back then.


But that was not important now. The gears had been set into motion once more, and with stinging clarity Schuldig realized that the only way to stop them from grinding to a dead halt was to find the third Vampire before the Felidae did. There was no telling what would happen if the others found out that there was a third Vampire likely to die - if that came to pass, there would really be a war between the two Dark Breeds. While Theodore might have backed up the causes of Christine’s and William’s deaths, he had never said anything about a third survivor. Farfarello’s word was all that stood for there even being a third...or a fourth? A fifth?


What if Farfarello decided to pick off the Vampires one after the other even after the real score had already been settled? The others would not take it and start a fight; the Felidae would follow their leader. Schuldig just did not know who would come out as the winner.


Farfarello’s potential alone was a big unknown. How many of the other Felidae were old enough and powerful enough to stand a chance in a fight with a Vampire? After seeing William’s torn throat and Anna’s bloody mouth Schuldig knew that even the younger Felidae were strong enough to maybe survive, if they fought viciously enough and had something to fight for. Witnessing the way they heeded their leader’s words, Farfarello’s very authority seemed a very good reason to fight. Undoubtedly they would not ask twice if he told them to attack.


He became aware of how hungry he was just as he reached Shaftesbury Avenue. Being in Farfarello’s company had made him forget all about feeding; now that he was on his own again he realized how easy it was to forget about the world outside while he occupied himself with the Felidae. Farfarello had a way of ensuring that all attention was focused on him even if it was by annoying the hell out of Schuldig.


Feeding had to come later. He raced up the stairs and was met by Crawford, who stood in the open door to their apartment and greeted him with, "Where the hell have you been? Do you have any idea how worried I was?"


Schuldig brushed past him, throwing his coat onto the floor. "We have to find a Vampire."


 "Have you lost your mind?" Crawford closed the door and gave him a bewildered stare. He was going to say something else, but then he sniffed the air and drew a face. "You reek of cat, Schu. Tell me no more."


 "We have to find a Vampire," he repeated impatiently, stripping off his shirt. He needed to take a bath or at least wash and get new clothes before he went out again. "There’s been a dead Felidae and I think Farfarello is going for a war."


Crawford’s eyes widened in surprise. For the briefest of moments, his expression was closed off. He followed Schuldig into the bathroom, muttering to himself. Schuldig paid him no attention as he washed. In his mind, he was trying to come up with a plan of how to proceed now - they had to go to the "Raven" and talk to Theodore again, and then -


His mind came to a grinding halt. He dropped the washcloth, felt the water splash against his chest as it hit the basin. Theodore! Could it be that Theodore was the third Vampire Farfarello was looking for? Theodore had told them about Farfarello’s past in the first place, Theodore had insisted that they not tell William anything - and for what? He gripped the edge of the small table he stood before, asking himself how he could have been so blind. Could it be that Theodore had not wanted William to know because he did not want anything about his own past to be known? Schuldig had known the owner of the Raven for a very long time, but as with all Dark Breeds there were years and years hidden away in the shadowed abysses of time.


What could William have told them, had they only asked?


 "Schuldig?" The concerned tone of Crawford’s voice roused Schuldig from his contemplations. "What is going on? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost."


He caught his reflection in the mirror above the washing basin, saw too sharp blue eyes and too pale, drawn skin stretched thin over cheekbones, his flaming hair a sharp contrast, and turned to his companion, "We have to talk to Theodore immediately."


 "Theodore? Schuldig, you -"


 "Farfarello told me that there are three Vampires who got away back then in Ireland. Three, not two like Theodore said. William and Christine are already dead. And just today another Felidae turned up dead - killed and mutilated, according to their words." Finishing his hurried washing, Schuldig brushed past Crawford again and went into his bedroom for a change of clothing, calling over his shoulder, "I just have to talk to Theodore again to make sure that he isn’t the third Vampire Farfarello is looking for."


Crawford’s hand caught him by the shoulders and spun him around just as he pulled a fresh shirt out of the closet. He dropped it out of surprise, so caught up in his rapid contemplations. "What?"


 "Theodore is dead, Schuldig."


 "What?"


 "I had a feeling that you were spending time with Farfarello and I didn’t want to interrupt you." Crawford squeezed his shoulders and sighed, "You really must have lost track of time. Someone set fire to the ‘Raven’ early yesterday morning."


Gaping, Schuldig began to shake his head. "What? But - I don’t understand..." He was floundering, trying to fit what Crawford told him into a time frame. Yesterday morning - had that been before or after he took that bath with Farfarello and later woke up with a kitten walking all over his back? Crawford was right, he really had lost track of time. "Farfarello was with me all the time."


He stopped himself, frowned. Had the leader of the Felidae really been with him all the time? He had had that dream...his shields had slipped. Farfarello had admitted to eavesdropping. Was it too fantastic to believe that if Farfarello listened to the thoughts of others, he could influence them as well? Trap someone in a dream?


He did not protest as Crawford steered him toward the bed and sat him down, more confused than ever. Nothing made sense anymore. Had Farfarello killed Theodore? Was Theodore the third Vampire had had been looking for? Had someone else killed Theodore? If so, why?


 "Did you find a body?" he asked slowly, trying to align facts, trying to make sense of it all. He did not think he could, but he had to try. "Did anyone see anything?"


 "I wasn’t there, so I don’t know. Wilfred came by this noon, that’s the only reason why I am awake in the first place." Crawford nodded at the shuttered window and the light of the day outside trying to find its way in. "He and George had been to some kind of exhibition down at the museum and were on their way back to their house when they heard the news on the streets. Wilfred said there wasn’t much left. The entire shop must have been completely destroyed."


 "God damn it all!" He cradled his face in his hands and withstood the desire to scream in frustration. "Then we can’t ask Theodore anymore. Farfarello is going to turn the entire city upside down, looking for that third Vampire!"


What was worse, even if Schuldig told Farfarello that Theodore was dead, he probably would not believe that Theodore had been that Vampire he was looking for.


What if Farfarello had figured out on his own that it was Theodore, and had had him killed while spending those two days at the house in Mayfair with Schuldig? The Vampire had not seen a single Felidae during that time. The scene earlier today...Farfarello’s anger had been more than real, but Schuldig knew, thought...


Knew nothing.


He pushed Crawford’s hands off his shoulders and screamed, then, all the frustration, all the unanswered questions rising from the depths of his mind, needing an outlet. His scream was loud enough to hurt his own ears. His hands clenched into fists on his lap, wanting to have something to rip apart, tear into. It was not enough. Not nearly enough. He wanted something to vent his frustration on.


 "Schuldig, I think you’re investing too much...too much of yourself into this," Crawford had retreated to the door and now stood there with a look of trepidation on his face, as though he expected him to explode any moment. "You’re making a fool of yourself, nothing more."


 "No! I need to know!"


 "Why?" Crawford shrugged, the helpless gesture of one at the ends of their wit. "Why do you need to know? What happens is something personal between the Felidae and whoever they are looking for. It’s none of your business."


Vehemently, Schuldig shook his head, hair flying. "It is. As Elder of the city, it’s -"


 "- not your business, Schu," Crawford said gently. "Remember that I am Elder, too, by rights of being your companion, and don’t think I didn’t pay attention to what is going on. It would be our business if they attacked all of us. They’re not. They, or rather Farfarello is looking for someone to settle an old score with. This has nothing to do with us, and you know it."


He knew on some level that Crawford was right, that it was indeed not their business as Elders, and that it was his own damned curiosity that drove him to everything. That, and his interest in Farfarello. This had gone past the stage of mere curiosity. He gave a damn about what happened to the rest of the Felidae, he would not care if they all killed themselves over trying to find that third Vampire if they had not already, but Farfarello -


He had a very dangerous, very absurd idea and stilled, staring at the floor before his feet. It took shape in his head before he had a chance to stop it. So easy. It would be so easy to...


 "I don’t like that look on your face, Schu," Crawford said, in that tone of voice that let Schuldig know that his companion knew he was up to something. He looked at him, saw Crawford’s eyes widen, saw him beginning to shake his head just as vehemently as he had before. "You’re out of your mind. I know exactly what you’re thinking about, and I tell you it’s a bad idea."


 "As is sitting here, doing nothing. When I came to the house Farfarello was right in the middle of fighting for his post as leader. He had been challenged, Crawford." Schuldig rose from the bed, licked his lips. The more he thought about it, the easier a solution it seemed to be. It would take care of everything. "Something needs to be done before there’ll be more corpses on both sides, before it really turns into a war!"


 "But not this!" Crawford shouted, slamming his fist against the door jamb. The resulting crash and splintering of wood startled them both. Breathing hard, Crawford went on, "You’re so in love with that Felidae you’re not thinking straight anymore! You’ve had nothing on your mind but him for so long, the others are already calling you catlover! Don’t you see? This isn’t about us! This isn’t about them! This is about you and Farfarello!"


He had nothing to say to this, mouth hanging open at Crawford’s sharp words. They had their clashes - anyone living in close quarters for so long now was bound to fight over something sooner or later - but never before it had been about something as personal as one’s...lovers? Schuldig narrowed his eyes, experiencing the same feeling of misgiving he had picked up the last time he spoke to Theodore, now coming from Crawford. It was sobering. It hurt. He gave Crawford a cold stare, brows lowering.


 "Schuldig," Crawford’s tone of voice was now beseeching as he rubbed his hands over his face, sighing through his fingers, "Please don’t think I don’t want you to have him. I don’t care what the others say about you and him, and you know it. I’m just concerned that you’re going to lose yourself completely if this goes on for much longer."


 "What is that supposed to mean?"


 "Look at you! When was the last time you’ve fed? When was the last time you’ve had a good sleep? You’re so far gone all you think about is solving this cursed mystery!"


 "You’re not my father, Crawford."


 "No, I’m not. I’m your friend, your companion if you’ve forgotten, and I worry about you." Stepping closer, Crawford took him by the shoulders once more, ignoring the way Schuldig stiffened at the contact. "If he were anyone else but a Felidae I’d even help you Turn him. Hell, I’d ring the wedding bells. But he isn’t. He’s from a different Breed. He’s the gods be damned leader of a clan. What do you think will happen if you Turn him?"


Schuldig did not want to listen to this. He tried to shake Crawford’s hands off, but the other held fast, refusing to let go, "No, listen to me, Schu. If you Turn him they’ll elect a new leader. I don’t know much about the Felidae but what I do know is not to my liking. If all goes wrong they’ll try to hunt him down in the end, and I can just imagine how he’ll thank you for that."


 "Then what do you propose we do?" Shrugging, Schuldig turned from Crawford, wrenching away as Crawford’s hands refused to let go. He walked over to the window and stared through the gaps in the shutters, torn. He knew Crawford was right. He did not know what frustrated him more - that Crawford was right, or that he had no other options. Turning Farfarello would separate him from his clan; he would not be bound to them by anything anymore. The way they lived would probably result in their shunning their former leader completely. "I don’t know what to do anymore. I’ve tried. I’ve tried to find out, to get closer, and I can’t. He won’t let me. If he were a Vampire at least there’d be no..."


 "...barriers between you anymore?" Crawford’s presence at his back was comforting despite their dispute; he leaned back against the other’s chest, sighed, and closed his eyes as he felt his companion’s chin come to rest on his shoulder. They had known each other for too long for Schuldig to not take advantage of offered comfort. "Schu, tell me why you wanted to talk to Theodore?"


 "I thought he was the third." Still staring at the gaps in the shutters, Schuldig let his eyes fall shut until the world turned into a fuzzy veil of grey around him. It reflected how he felt inside. He was tired. He was hungry. He felt too many warring emotions trying to yank him into too many different directions, and none of them seemed promising. "With all that Theodore told us, I thought he was trying to hide his own past, make us concentrate on William instead of him."


 "William and Theodore are both dead, Schu," Crawford said softly, tightening his arms around him. "It doesn’t matter anymore. Whether or not Farfarello killed him or if someone else did...who cares? They’re dead."


Dead is dead.


 "I want to know if Farfarello killed Theodore or not," Schuldig insisted. "I want to know if this damn thing is finally over and done with."


 "So you can commence courting Farfarello without having to worry about anything else?" Crawford’s voice, soft and soothing, was a caress against the skin of Schuldig’s neck. His arms tightened a little more around him, just a breath away from being tight enough to hurt.


Schuldig felt drowsy and comfortable in the circle of his companion’s arms. The world ticked past his consciousness, thoughts racing, but Crawford’s presence stifled their urgent press against his mind. Even with Farfarello, Schuldig did not feel the same peace - if anything, Farfarello’s presence made for headaches and wants, but never for peace. If Crawford was home then Farfarello was the wilderness, the unknown territory begging to be explored.


 "Let me put your mind to rest," Crawford said, mouth and nose pressed against the side of Schuldig’s neck. He rubbed his lips over the soft skin there, apparently mindless of the fact that Schuldig still reeked of cat, of sex, of Farfarello, and lifted a hand to brush the hair from his ear. "Farfarello did not kill Theodore."


Turning his head, Schuldig looked at the side of Crawford’s face, seeing the elegant line of an eyebrow, the dark sweeping curve of eyelashes against the mound of Crawford’s cheek. "How do you know?"


 "Because I did it."


He felt Crawford’s hand against the back of his head, fingers digging into his hair. The last thing Schuldig was aware of was the shuttered window in front of him, then pain, then blessed darkness.


Then nothing.