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built for sin

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The overhead light flickers, darkening the room for a brief moment before everything is illuminated again. The lights are dim; the entire place trashed, the majority of the furniture flipped upside down and torn apart, rotting. The room smells like mold and something that makes his nose uncomfortably twitch—possibly a decaying animal corpse. Newspapers scattered on the floor have gone yellow with age and there is not a single window gracing the walls, the only connection to the outside world being the door he came in through.

It’s perfect. The place is perfect, just to his liking. Filthy, secluded and would make anyone miserable. It’s ugly and rotten, with so much negative energy inside of it that if he were still a human, it would possibly make chills run down his spine and make his toes curl against the inside of his shoes. Now, all he feels is a wave of adrenaline flooding through him; the corners of his lips curling into a smile as he stares at the filthy, blood stained tiles around him. He smells all the deaths that have happened here before, can almost see them play out in front of his eyes, one by one. It’s beautiful.

“Jeongguk.”

He turns on his heel, eyes meeting Seokjin’s—someone Jeongguk still, to this day, refers to as his familiar. Even though he’s, frankly, anything but that and hasn’t been for hundreds and hundreds of years. A familiar is a witch’s companion for life, something good and pure. Seokjin hasn’t been the latter for a very long time, yet, for whatever reason, Jeongguk still thinks of him as such. Old habits die hard, and this habit is a few hundred years old.

“Have you brought the daggers?” Jeongguk asks, voice smooth and demanding. Seokjin nods, dark hair falling into his eyes. “Give them to me.”

Seokjin takes the leather bundle out of the pocket of his coat, handing it to him. Jeongguk takes it, unfolding the fabric to reveal a set of his favorite daggers, all four of them sharpened and polished carefully so the black marble handles gleam in the low neon light.

It’s just a few out of his collection, but they’re his favorites. He’d always had a thing for knives and daggers—but since tonight is a special night, he’d picked out his best, sharpest ones and ordered for Seokjin to bring them.

“How many do we have on our list tonight?” Jeongguk asks, running his index finger over one of the blades. It cuts through the soft skin of his fingertip, drawing the slightest bit of blood. He puts it in his mouth and sucks on it, body breaking out into goosebumps at the metallic taste he’d always been so fond of. A little too fond of. He sighs, releasing his finger with a wet sound, then licking over his lips. “How many more of these worthless cunts do I have to slaughter before they learn that if they want my services for their pathetic little lives, they’re going to have to pay for them—one way or another.”

Seokjin’s lips quirk into a smirk, eyes glimmering as he looks back at Jeongguk. He takes out a piece of paper, unfolds it and glances at it, clearing his throat. “Six,” he replies, before shoving it back into his pocket. “Could be done quickly, unless you decide to drag it on until dawn.”

Jeongguk grins, not at all disappointed with the number. “I think I might take my time tonight,” he shrugs, taking one of the daggers out of the bundle. It’s the binding one—the one that will keep his prey in place, if necessary. And more often than not, it is. “It’s been a while since we’ve had fun like this, hasn’t it, hyung?”

“Indeed, it has been,” Seokjin nods, taking his gloves off and tossing them to the side. He wrinkles his nose as they fall onto the floor with a dull thump. “It reeks in here. Even the rats are decomposing in this place. Disgusting.”

“It’s perfect,” says Jeongguk, eyes glittering as he takes a good look around the place one more time. “Imagine being summoned here just so you can get killed like a dog. Pathetic.”

“Shall we start drawing the summoning circle?” Seokjin asks, his expression impassive but his eyes gleaming with something so evil it makes Jeongguk feel all giddy on the inside. Tonight is going to be fun. And Jeongguk loves fun.

“Absolutely.” Jeongguk clicks his tongue, holding his hand out. “Chalk.”

Seokjin places the dark chalk into Jeongguk’s hand and takes back the leather bundle of daggers, pushing it down into the pocket of his coat. Jeongguk crouches down, taking his bottom lip between his teeth as he focuses on drawing the pentagram, brows slightly furrowed in concentration. He twirls the binding knife in his other hand as he continues drawing over the mold on the floor, heart jumping inside of his chest when the pentagram comes to a finish. With each second, the moment of the summoning process comes closer, and the adrenaline in Jeongguk’s veins spreads like wildfire, crawling and settling under every inch of his skin.

Every moment closer to someone’s death makes Jeongguk aroused in ways he’s not even capable of explaining. It just feels good, knowing that he’s the one holding all the power and that someone else is at his mercy, begging. Only, Jeongguk has no mercy. And having no mercy is so much more fun.

“I brought the candles,” he mutters, walking over toward the rotten couch where he had dropped his bag earlier. He takes out five white candles infused with dark magic—courtesy of yours truly—absently smiling at the contrast his magic has as it swirls inside of the candle. He places them on each point of the pentagram, waving his fingers and lighting them up all at once. “Mmm, give me a different knife,” he turns to Seokjin. “This is the binding one.”

Seokjin nods, taking a different dagger out and handing it to him. All that's left to complete the summoning circle is some blood, and realistically Jeongguk could use the binding knife in his hand, but it's magically infused and as immune as Jeongguk is to his own magic. He'd still be bleeding a lot more than he has time for. He takes a regular one from Seokjin’s hand, lips spreading into a crooked smile as he runs the sharp blade over the palm of his hand and then curls his fingers into a fist, squeezing tightly as his blood drips all over the floor.

“Pretty,” he murmurs, watching as the pentagram and the candles stain black.

Seokjin snorts and Jeongguk’s eyes flick toward him, brows tilting in question. “Is it not pretty?”

“Oh, it’s pretty alright,” Seokjin purrs, leaning against the wall and moving his dark bangs away from his face. “It will be prettier once it’s an actual bloodbath in here, though. Few drops of yours are just barely enough for some foreplay.”

Jeongguk tosses his head back and laughs, his voice echoing in the room. “You’re right, as always,” he notes, bringing his palm to his lips, licking over the still bleeding cut. Jeongguk shivers, smiling wickedly as he shoves his other hand into the pocket of his robe, pulling out his gloves. He carefully slides them on, then walks over to the circle, spitting on it.

“Need salt?” Seokjin questions, approaching him.

“No,” Jeongguk shakes his head. “I like it when they try and break the circle.”

“Of course you do,” Seokjin laughs, moving to stand by his side. “Well, then. Shall we?”

Jeongguk considers it; they should start now, because it’s possible they’ll be here all night. Jeongguk likes to have fun, often gets carried away with his victims and likes torturing them a lot more than necessary. It’s fun—it gets his adrenaline going. It makes blood bubble up in his veins and the rush he feels is electrifying, so thrilling Jeongguk could easily get off on it.

“I guess we shall,” he replies, pulse quickening with excitement. He clasps his hands together, huffing. “Well,” he claps his hands, lighting up all the candles sitting at the sharp points of the pentagram. “Name?”

Seokjin looks down at the list of names, cocking his brow as he studies his own handwriting, trying to decide.

“Ladies first, right?” He asks, glancing up at Jeongguk.

“Oh, absolutely,” Jeongguk’s smile is crooked and vicious, fingers twitching with excitement. “We wouldn’t want to be rude.”

“Cha Jisoo,” Seokjin clears his throat. His hand searches for something in his pocket again, then finally—he pulls out a ring. It’s simple, made out of white gold, and Jeongguk eagerly holds his hand out. “This belongs to her.”

“Perfect,” he says, curling his fingers into a fist, tightly holding onto the ring, channeling the energy of its owner. Cha Jisoo’s time is limited, ticking away. “Mmm, a fairy.”

Jeongguk's eyes fall shut, clasping his hands together as he channels his magic. A hot rush floods through him, pooling in his fingertips, and after just a few seconds the room is thick with misleadingly sweet energy and the sound of surprised, high-pitched gasping. He slowly opens his eyes, tongue darting out of his mouth as he crouches down to level his gaze with the shocked, dark-haired fairy before him.

“Well, look who we have here,” he says in a velvety voice, watching as the fairy’s eyes widen, the dim light of her aura blinking weakly in alarm as she realizes she’s been summoned and that she can’t move out of the pentagram. “Jisoo-ssi.” Her eyes widen even more and Jeongguk’s stomach flutters as he lets out an airy chuckle. He carelessly tosses her ring into the pentagram and she quickly glances down as it rolls on the ground then looks back at him, swallowing heavily.

“I—” she begins but Jeongguk glares at her and she immediately goes quiet, breath hitching in her throat.

“You’ll speak when I allow you to speak.” He takes his knife and steps into the summoning circle, grabbing a fistful of her hair, ignoring the painful whine that escapes her. He shoves the knife underneath the soft skin of her throat, slightly cutting through it as he presses further against it. “The more you talk, the quicker I get annoyed and I don’t like getting annoyed, because then you’ll be dead within seconds. And I prefer to take my time. Understood?”

Jeongguk knows she doesn’t, but she still attempts to nod her head, despite Jeongguk still tightly gripping at her hair. He releases it.

“Highly doubt you did. You fairies ain’t worth shit.”

He steps out of the summoning circle, sighing. He looks over at Seokjin, tilting his eyebrows at him before he turns to face the fairy again. “What do you suggest we do with her, huh hyung?”

Jisoo is gripping at the freshly made cut on her neck and Jeongguk rolls his eyes at the sight. He hasn’t even started yet.

“Wait.” Jeongguk wrinkles his nose. “What did I do for her again?”

Seokjin snickers, folding his arms over his chest. “Found her runaway sister. Twice. And she hasn’t paid for it once. I suggest you take all her fairy dust and then choke her to death.”

Jeongguk does love fairy dust. He considers it for a moment, then waves his hand, setting the fairy’s entire foot on fire. She screams in horror, making his cock twitch in his underwear at the sound. She reaches for her foot, frantically trying to use her magic in order to stop the fire—but she can’t. Jeongguk is a warlock; one of the most powerful ones at that, hundreds of years old. His blood runs black and is tainted with dark magic, the ridiculous fairy and her childish fairy dust do nothing but add more fuel to his power. And through the summoning circle, Jeongguk is channeling all of it.

“It was getting too quiet in here,” he explains, ignoring the fairy’s cries and turning to Seokjin again. “She evaded payment twice, you say?”

Seokjin nods, taking a step toward the pentagram, tilting his head to the side. “A shame, really,” he says, not a single ounce of remorse in his voice. “Her family is rich, too.”

Jeongguk cocks an eyebrow. “Rich?” He asks, licking his lips. “Well then.” He crouches again, eyes glittering as he watches the fairy squirm and scream, breaking out in sweat from all the pain she’s enduring. Jeongguk doesn’t allow the fire to spread further up her leg; instead, he waits for the foot to burn out until it’s rotten. “I’ll set her limbs on fire and slit her throat instead. Might as well start tonight off with a bang.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Jeongguk smiles and waves his hand, terminating the fire. Jisoo breathes heavily, hair stuck to her damp face, pained noises slipping past her lips. The sight looks promising and Jeongguk spins the knife in his hand, slowly approaching her.

“Now, do I want to know why you haven’t paid me even though I was kind enough to find your sister not once, but twice?” Jeongguk asks, stepping inside the pentagram again and grabbing Jisoo by the jaw. Her chest heaves and she looks at him with fearful eyes, though she does try her best to focus.

Something inside of Jeongguk stirs and he presses his lips together, slowly shaking his head. He tightens his grip around her jaw, nails digging into the skin. “I don’t know why you even bother,” he says with a sigh, pressing the blade of his knife right against her jawline. “Glamour or whatever it is that you glowsticks do doesn’t work on me. It’s cute that you’re trying, though.”

He hears Seokjin chuckle behind him, muttering a low “glowsticks”. Jeongguk doesn’t turn to look, but he imagines his familiar is shaking his head.

“Do you know who my father is?” The fairy hisses, properly speaking up for the first time. Jeongguk doesn’t appreciate it; he hasn’t given her permission. He presses his lips together, releasing her jaw and grabbing a fistful of her hair, yanking her head back to make her look up at him. She whines in pain, and Jeongguk only further tightens his fist.

“Do you think I give a fuck, you worthless piece of shit?” He growls, nostrils flaring. “Who is he, huh? Fuck is he gonna do?”

Jeongguk isn’t fazed. Her father could be the Seelie king, he doesn’t care. Possibly, Jeongguk is one of the most powerful creatures dead or alive, and he’s well aware of that. Others should be aware of that too.

“He’s—he’s the head of the Unseelie court, he—”

“Unseelie court.” Jeongguk snorts. “This is borderline offensive. I will summon him and make him watch his daughter burn to death, and then I’ll kill him too. Is that what you want? Hell, I might as well summon your sister, just so he has some company.”

Fear flashes over her features and Jeongguk snickers, biting his lip. This is too easy. Jeongguk would never really do that—though there is not much humanity left in him, a part of him is still human, after all. He doesn’t believe in just ruthlessly killing people who haven’t somehow deserved it. He gets off on it—yes—but Jeongguk thinks that this is the beauty of it. It’s all about asserting power; killing the ones who have somehow tried to cross him, so that everyone in the future knows that Jeongguk is the one to be feared.

“N-No, please,” she stammers, choking on her words. “Please, not my s-sister—”

“God, you’re so boring,” Jeongguk releases his grip, rolling his eyes. He gets up, huffing in frustration.

“I will—I will pay you,” she says, tone pleading. “I will—I’m sorry I didn’t, I—I didn’t know—please. Your demands—they were ridiculous, I couldn’t—”

“My demands are ridiculous to you?” Jeongguk turns on his heel, suddenly seeing red. Impulsively, he flings his knife right into her chest, hitting the spot right above her heart. Jisoo screams, her small hands rushing to take the knife right out but—she can’t. Jeongguk’s keeping it in place, and no matter how much she tries, the knife doesn’t budge. Instead, it keeps inflicting pain on her, making her scream in agony.

Now that’s more like it.

“My demands are ridiculous to her,” he complains to Seokjin as rage stirs inside of his gut. “Can you believe that?”

“You’re really in no position to say such things,” Seokjin tells her, voice flat despite the fairy’s cries. “You’re only making your death more painful than it needs to be. It’s simple; you came in for a favor directly to me. I handle all of his business transactions. I have told you the cost, and you had agreed to it. You’ve evaded payment not once, but twice. I warned you about how cruel Jeongguk is. Now, you’re about to experience it.”

And she does. Just like he promised, one by one, Jeongguk sets fire to her limbs, slumping down into a moldy chair next to the decomposing couch, and watches carefully as her glow entirely fades, consumed by the flames. She dies before he has the chance to come into the pentagram again and slit her throat, but he’s not mad about it. She’s weak, barely able to fight back and for a moment, Jeongguk wishes he did summon her family to watch. His cock is barely hard in his pants, just slightly twitching once her lifeless body falls onto the dirty ground with a loud thud.

“Well,” Jeongguk smiles. “Shall we start with the next one?”

Next up is a wolf, and Jeongguk isn’t too pleased about that. They’re the easiest to kill, too human for their own good. Still, Jeongguk tries not to dwell on it too much; he makes a show out of breaking every single bone in his body before he sets him on fire and watches him burn to death. By the end of it, Jeongguk feels the pleasant rush in his veins; at least the wolf was feistier than the fairy, at least he tried fighting back.

Jeongguk likes calling this a ritual. He and Seokjin do it once a year, gathering up everyone who hasn’t sent payment for Jeongguk’s services—no matter how big or small those might have been—and they all end up the same. They all end up dead.

Before Jeongguk knows it, three more of them are gone within a blink of an eye—and it’s time to cross the last one off their list. Jeongguk hates how quickly time passes, how he can sense the dark outside bleeding into dawn. He’s not tired, just hoping for a bit more fun. Hopefully, the last one makes everything worthwhile.

“Who’s our last one for the night?” Jeongguk asks, kicking his feet up onto the rotten couch.

Seokjin looks at the list. “Park Jimin.”

“And what is he?”

“A vampire.”

Jeongguk’s eyes gleam, lips curling into a crooked smile as his stomach swirls with adrenaline yet again and he tilts his head back, laughing. “A bloodsucker,” he says, pleased. Perhaps they have saved the best for last. “Haven’t killed one of those in a while. He’s our last one for tonight, correct?”

Seokjin nods, eyes darkening.

“Perfect,” Jeongguk purrs, his tongue darting out to lick across his lower lip. He gets up from the couch, walking over toward the summoning circle. “I’ll take my time with him. Make sure he remembers his death even while he’s rotting in hell.”

“It’s almost dawn,” Seokjin reminds him. “We do have to sleep at some point, you know.”

Jeongguk knows but he doesn’t really care. He’ll have all the time in the world to sleep later, but right now, he focuses on the arousal that stirs inside of his stomach at the thought of summoning a vampire. If Jeongguk is lucky, he’ll get an ancient, wise one, who might even have a couple tricks up his sleeve. Besides, vampires are usually easy on the eyes, and that doesn’t hurt.

Jeongguk might even have a blast jacking off to it in his bed later when he’s replaying it in his head.

He glances over at the ground, his pentagram barely visible with all the blood that’s been shed throughout the night. Jeongguk smiles to himself, pleased despite the rather boring outcome of the night so far. He trusts his intuition; the last one might make all of this worth it.

“We’ll sleep when we’re dead,” Jeongguk jokes, taking his knife and cutting through the already healed wound on his palm, spilling more of his blood onto the burning candles.

Seokjin sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. “So, never?”

Jeongguk looks over his shoulder, grinning back at him. “Exactly.”

He takes his time with the summoning process. This time around, the only item belonging to Park Jimin that Seokjin has managed to get his hands on is a strand of his hair, and Jeongguk’s interest is piqued once he realizes it’s silver. He’s not entirely sure what to expect; but he’s hoping that it’s good.

Jeongguk closes his eyes, carefully holding the piece of hair between his clasped hands, quietly muttering the spell under his breath, channeling his magic. He’s hit with the slightest bit of air that parts the bangs on his forehead, and once he opens his eyes, there’s a figure inside the pentagram, back turned him.

“Park Jimin,” he calls, voice echoing in the room.

The vampire stands up inside of the circle, slowly turning around to meet Jeongguk’s eyes. For a brief moment, Jeongguk is stunned. He’d expected a pretty face, but the vampire that stands in front of him is gorgeous. Cherry lips, high cheekbones, a sharp jaw and most prominent of all—the smoldering, predatory-like eyes. He’s slender, sharp collarbones poking through the loose fabric of his dress shirt which has slipped down one of his shoulders, the black latex pants hugging his legs in all the right places, making Jeongguk slightly salivate.

Jeongguk has seen a fair share of gorgeous creatures in his time, he’s been here for centuries. Maybe Park Jimin isn’t the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes on—but Jeongguk is sure he comes close. Despite that, there’s something about his aura, his demeanor that makes Jeongguk intrigued, which, admittedly, never happens. Jeongguk has no interest in his victims—other than seeing their deaths through.

This, somehow, feels different. Jeongguk’s always been bloodthirsty and right now, it’s like the thirst has intensified. There’s dried blood at the corner of the vampire’s lips, like he’d just finished feeding. Jeongguk is just in time.

Jimin looks down at the pentagram then around the room, taking in the sight. His gaze slides toward Seokjin and then it meets Jeongguk’s and he arches an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Jeon Jeongguk,” he says, voice smooth. He doesn’t sound intimidated and for some reason, Jeongguk is conflicted on whether or not that angers him. After considering it for a few moments, he decides that it doesn’t. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Jeongguk snorts. “The only pleasure here will be solely mine,” he says, biting back a smile at the literality of his words. His cock sits hard in his pants, almost throbbing at the sight of Jimin alone. “I see you know who I am.”

Jimin’s eyes flick toward Seokjin and then back at him. “Well, Seokjin-ssi is here. He works for you. Putting two and two together isn’t hard, when you have a brain.”

“Not enough brain to know that when you request my services you have to pay up,” Jeongguk hums, running his finger over the blade of his dagger. He glances up at the vampire whose expression is stone cold still, and he smiles. “Otherwise I make you pay.”

Jimin shifts his weight, arms dropping to his sides. “I see.” He presses his lips together, his eyes not giving anything away. If he’s scared, Jeongguk can’t tell. It makes him feel all giddy on the inside. “Well, maybe we can negotiate something. I have a large stock of demon powder. I heard you warlocks love getting your hands on it.”

Jeongguk scowls, then hurls the knife right at Jimin’s right thigh, watching as the vampire doubles down and hisses in pain. He glares over at Jeongguk, then takes the knife out and Jeongguk stares as blood runs down the black latex, lips curling into a smile.

“Fuck you,” Jimin spits, tightly gripping at the knife in his hand before he throws it right back at Jeongguk, aiming for his throat. Before Jimin even blinks, the knife is obediently sitting in Jeongguk’s hand, and Jeongguk can’t help but let out a low giggle.

“Nice try,” he says, then licks over the blood-slicked blade, tasting Jimin. Maybe he’s showing his love for blood a little too much, but Jeongguk can’t stop himself. There’s always been something about vampire blood he was drawn to—maybe it was the way it made his head spin and get him all high and dazed—but Jimin’s tastes… incredible.

It’s sweet, the hint of metal in it barely detectable and Jeongguk has not physically restrain himself to not lick his knife clean. Maybe after all of this is over, Jeongguk can drain him before they leave.

“You’re one sick fucker, aren’t you?” Jimin asks; the blood has stopped running down his thigh and the cut has healed. Jeongguk takes a different dagger out—his binding one. That should make things more interesting.

Jeongguk cocks an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“You just licked my blood off of your blade, willingly,” Jimin says, his face back to looking impassive. He’s absolutely stunning, and Jeongguk doesn’t bother looking away. “That makes you a sick fuck in my book.”

“You need blood in order to maintain your existence, yet I’m the sick one?” Jeongguk laughs. “Interesting theory.”

“I need it to survive,” Jimin explains nonchalantly, his eyes gleaming. “You’re doing it for pleasure. Don’t think I can’t see the way your dick has twitched in your pants. I can hear your blood flow, warlock. And I hear it all going straight to your cock.”

Seokjin laughs and steps up to stand by Jeongguk’s side, gently nudging him with his elbow. “He’s onto you,” he says.

“He really is,” Jeongguk beams. “Luckily for me, he’s not gonna live to tell anyone.”

He hurls his binding knife right at Jimin again, delight sparking up underneath his skin.

“Bastard,” Jimin hisses at him and drops down to his knees as the dagger hits the junction of his upper arm and his shoulder blade, making his body jolt in pain. “You fucking bastard.”

The dagger keeps the vampire spell-bound and paralyzed, and Jeongguk’s lips curl into a wicked smile and he tilts his head back and laughs maniacally, entertained by the sight. Blood runs down Jimin’s exposed collarbone, prettily staining his white dress shirt. Jeongguk loves what he sees; a beautiful vampire who’s about to die by his hand, squirming and twitching while he bleeds out crimson red and makes an even bigger mess inside the summoning circle. Jeongguk loves the slurs and insults thrown his way because by the crack of dawn, this gorgeous vampire is going to be nothing but a beautiful corpse, all thanks to him.

“Bastard,” Jeongguk repeats, licking his lips. “That, I am.”

Jeongguk means it quite literally. Once upon a time, he was a bastard son. Technically, he still is—though his parents have been dead for centuries. A long time ago, the slur would have probably stung; not anymore, though. Jeongguk has been desensitized to it for a long while now, so much so it does nothing but make him want to embrace it. A bastard, yes. That is exactly what he is.

“What do you want?” Jimin grits out through his teeth, holding onto the knife, unable to move it. “I offered to make a deal.”

“A deal had been made a long time ago, Park Jimin, and you didn’t stick to your end of the bargain,” Seokjin huffs from beside him. “And for that, you will be punished. You were warned the first time you came to me—and Jeongguk always holds up his end of the deal.”

“What I want is to make sure you remember me even when you’re rotting in hell,” Jeongguk says simply, shrugging. “I want you to tell Lucifer I sent you down there myself, I want you to know you’re just as worthless as the rest of your species.”

Jimin snorts, breaking out in a sweat as Jeongguk channels more magic into the dagger, watching as the vampire’s body twitches in pain. He’s handling it better than any of his other victims tonight; even his jolts and cries are more graceful than the others’ and he carries himself with a lot more dignity.

For the second time tonight, Jeongguk isn’t entirely sure how he feels about that—all he knows is that it sends rush down his spine.

“I’ll suggest we make a deal one more time,” Jimin says, not giving up. “If you kill me, you’ll have issues much bigger than me not providing you with payment, I promise you that.”

Jeongguk rolls his eyes and makes a face, sighing. “Let me guess. You’re a pure-blood vampire and your daddy dearest is loaded, so all your little blood-sucking covens are going to come after me and try to drain me, blah, blah, blah. Spare me.”

Jimin snorts, licking his lips. “I’m not a pure-blood vampire. I was turned, and my parents have been dead for hundreds of years.” Jeongguk perks up at that. The vampire is ancient, just like he’d hoped he would be. No wonder he tastes so good. They don’t make them like him anymore. “I fly solo. I don’t belong to a coven. If I die, no vampire is going to give a shit.”

Jeongguk’s brow furrows, lips parting. “So then, who is going to give a shit? Since you’re making such bold claims.”

“The ones I do business with,” Jimin says confidently. “Demons.”

Jeongguk’s stomach twinges with hatred, lips twitching downward. There’s not a single thing in this world he hates more. Demons; filthy, soulless creatures. Creatures who’ve made Jeongguk what he is today—a monster.  Jeongguk isn’t afraid of them. He’s half a demon himself, his blood runs dark and his tears stain black, his power runs wild and his magic is obscure. Their power is limited, Jeongguk’s is not.

He’s not afraid of demons. If anything, he’s offended that this disgusting bloodsucker would ever assume otherwise. Jeongguk closes his eyes, twisting the knife in the vampire’s shoulder, finally making him scream in pain.

“How dare you assume I’d ever fear such vile, filthy creatures?” Jeongguk spits out as his skin crawls, and he walks over and enters the summoning circle, grabbing a fistful of Jimin’s hair, yanking it to force the vampire to look up at him. His fangs are out, sharp and long, and he hisses up at Jeongguk, squirming in pain. “I’ll break every single bone in your body,” he snarls. “I’ll rip off your limbs one by one and make you eat them.”

“Maybe you should be afraid,” Jimin pants, eyes squeezing shut as Jeongguk shoves the knife further inside of him. “The elder demons don’t take it too kindly when someone deprives them of their food.”

Jeongguk freezes, releasing him. He straightens up, glances over at Seokjin, then back at Jimin. “What did you say?”

Jimin’s lips spread into a smile, sly and wicked. “That’s what I thought,” he murmurs and Jeongguk shoves his knee into the vampire’s side, making him double over in pain.

“What did you say?” He repeats his question, patience wearing thin.

“The elder demons,” Jimin chokes out, his smile barely fading. It makes even more anger rip through Jeongguk. “You get rid of me, you’ll have elder demons knocking on your door by the end of the week.”

Jeongguk swallows heavily, but it’s not out of fear. This time around, Jeongguk is genuinely interested. He looks over at Seokjin whose eyebrows are tilted in surprise, head lolled to the side.

“Do you think he…” Seokjin begins and Jeongguk twists the dagger inside of Jimin, body breaking out into goosebumps as a high-pitched scream leaves his lips. “…knows him?”

Jeongguk considers it. He looks down at the squirming vampire who’s on his knees in front of him, wondering. Is it possible that the one he’s spent hundreds of years searching for has been much closer than he thought, all of this time? Jeongguk refuses to believe it but despite that, something urges him to ask.

“What kind of business does a worthless bloodsucker like you do with the elder demons?”

“Not just elder demons,” Jimin says, wincing. “I work with all kinds of demons; the elder ones are just a perk.”

“Answer his question,” Seokjin steps in, eyes darkening. “What do you have that they need?”

“Souls,” Jimin explains, not a hint of remorse in his tone. “I run a brothel. I traffic humans.”

“That’s illegal,” says Seokjin, carefully eyeing him.

Jeongguk’s stomach twists with nausea and he looks at Jimin with as much disgust as he can muster. Trafficking humans is illegal, and though Jeongguk isn’t big on respecting laws or has a moral high ground, this makes rage boil in his veins.

“Do you really think governor Kim would ever dare set foot in a brothel swarming with demons, especially when an elder demon enters my chambers every other month?” Jimin huffs out a laugh, rolling his eyes. “I have protection. I’m good at what I do. That’s why I offered your warlock friend here a deal. I wouldn’t evade paying a warlock as powerful as him if I knew I had nothing to protect myself once I made him angry.”

Jimin’s looks are deceiving, he’s only gorgeous on the outside. On the inside, Jeongguk knows it’s an entirely different story. It takes a twisted mind to be okay with trafficking humans to demons, and Jeongguk, as cruel as deranged as he is, as tainted his soul is—he could never do such a thing. If he could, he’d protect every single human from filthy demon hands, kill every single demon walking on this planet and then, he’d kill himself.

If he only could.

He releases Jimin, then walks toward Seokjin, grabbing him by the forearm and dragging him toward the corner of the room. He raises his hand, creating a sound barrier between them and Jimin. The vampire can’t move—but he sure as hell can hear— and Jeongguk doesn’t need him eavesdropping on them right now.

“Do you think he might know him?” Jeongguk asks, biting his lip. Seokjin’s features darken as he considers, shrugging.

“He might,” he says. “I just—I find it hard to believe that after you’ve stopped looking, he’d be so close.”

Jeongguk sighs, running his fingers through his dark hair. He looks over his shoulder, focusing on twisting the knife inside of Jimin from across the room. The vampire winces and cries, making the hair on the back of Jeongguk’s neck stand up. That will keep him occupied for a few moments.

“Me too,” says Jeongguk, licking his lips. “He’s not lying, I can tell that much. But maybe he’s trying to coax us; I should probably just rip his organs out and set him on fire. Stop wasting time.”

“But what if he does know him?” Seokjin presses, eyes widening. “What if he can actually be… useful?”

Jeongguk narrows his eyes at him, tilting his head to the side. “What are you suggesting?”

Seokjin bites down on the nail of his thumb, looking at Jimin over Jeongguk’s shoulder, thinking. “I suggest we ask the vampire if he’s familiar with the name.”

“And if he’s not? We kill him?”

“Maybe we don’t have to kill him yet,” says Seokjin, lips curling into a smile. “We have someone who works closely with the elder demons. Instead, we make him work for us.”

Jeongguk taps his index finger against his lips, considering. Something about the idea makes adrenaline pump through his veins, makes his heart beat quicker. Jeongguk had stopped looking for him a long time ago, but he’s never been in contact with anyone who knew anything about elder demons, let alone someone who worked with them so often. Jeongguk is a quick thinker and even faster decision maker—the vampire could be useful to have around. Worst case scenario, years pass without any leads and Jeongguk murders him anyway.

He knocks the barrier down and steps out of it, clearing his throat as he makes his way over toward Jimin. The vampire looks at him with rage and pain in his eyes, and when Jeongguk reaches him he rips the dagger out before kicking over one of the candles to break the summoning circle.

“Get the fuck up.” He grabs Jimin’s blood-stained dress shirt and pulls him up, tugging him toward the couch. He shoves the weakened vampire down and focuses, swirling his finger and watching as a black snake appears out of thin air, curling around Jimin’s wrists, keeping his hands in place. “Don’t even think about trying to run, bloodsucker. I’ll kill you before the thought even forms in your head.”

“Wasn’t planning on it,” Jimin hisses lowly, though there’s barely any real bite to his tone. He’s weak and hurting, and the wound in his shoulder is going to take a long while to heal unless Jeongguk does something about it. He doesn’t plan to.

“The name Kim Taehyung,” Jeongguk says, “does it mean anything to you? Does it ring a bell?”

Jimin looks at him, brows furrowing. Immediately, Jeongguk knows it doesn’t. It shouldn’t—but disappointment still makes its way to Jeongguk’s chest—even though he’s been disappointed time after time in the few hundred years he’d spent looking for Kim Taehyung.

“No,” Jimin says reluctantly, biting his bottom lip between his teeth. “But I could ask around. What is he?”

“An elder demon,” Jeongguk replies, staring at the snake around Jimin’s wrists until it tightens around them even more, making the vampire uncomfortably squirm.

Jimin freezes, looking up at him. “I wouldn’t be poking an elder demon if I were you.”

“Thank god you’re not me, then,” says Jeongguk. “What you’re going to do is ask around and keep an eye out for that specific name. I don’t care how deep you gotta dig and who you have to bother about it—you’re going to do it. And then, after you find someone who might know something, no matter how small, you bring them to me. That’s how you stay alive. Understood?”

Jimin looks at him with dark eyes, chest still slightly heaving with the pain he’s enduring from his barely healing wounds. He has the audacity to consider it and rage flickers inside of Jeongguk, but he quickly breathes in, calming himself. He’s already decided that he won’t be killing this vampire, at least not right now. The sole fact that Jimin traffics humans to demons without a hint of remorse makes him sick to his stomach and despite his beautiful face, Jeongguk wants to do nothing but scar it, make him as ugly on the outside as he is on the inside. But, he doesn’t. There’s a bigger goal to be achieved here, something Jeongguk has been yearning for for hundreds of years and maybe—as disgusting as Jeongguk finds this twisted vampire—his connections to the demon world can be of significant help.

“Okay.” Jimin carefully nods, his gaze piercing and trained on Jeongguk. “I’ll do it.”

“You don’t have a choice,” Jeongguk reminds him, quirking an eyebrow and tightening the snake around him even more, making Jimin’s breath hitch in his throat. “It’s either that, or you’re dead.”

“You’ll kill me anyway, if I don’t prove to be of service to you,” Jimin notes, though his lips curl into a smirk. “But you won’t have to worry about that, warlock. I have connections everywhere. Whoever it is that you’re looking for, I’ll find them.”

Jimin sounds confident and Jeongguk huffs, lips twitching.

“We’ll see about that,” Seokjin says from behind him, making Jimin’s gaze slide away from Jeongguk. “I also suggest you don’t try to set Jeongguk up. It won’t end well for anyone, especially you.”

“I’m trying to stay alive, not play games,” Jimin hisses at him. He looks back at Jeongguk. “Like I said, whoever it is that you are looking for, I will find them.”

“I’ll check in with you every few days. You’ll be summoned just like you were summoned tonight.”

Jimin looks around, nose wrinkling. “Into this dump? Really?”

“No,” says Jeongguk. “You’ll be summoned to my lair. Other than that, you’re free to walk around as you please. However, if I hear you throwing my name around, you’ll be summoned back here and killed like a dog. Do you understand?”

Jimin nods, eyes flicking down to the snake that’s tightened around his wrists. Jeongguk sighs, waving his hand dismissively and watching as the snake drops dead, right into Jimin’s lap.

“I understand,” Jimin confirms, just in case. “If I have something—or someone, how do I reach you to report back to you?”

Jeongguk shakes his head. “You don’t. You keep an eye on every single one of your clues and then, when I summon you, we can discuss how and when you’re going to bring them to me. We do things on my terms. You’re free to go.”

Jimin gets up from his seat, suspiciously eyeing the two of them. He blinks, rubbing at his bruised wrists as if he’s not entirely convinced they’re letting him walk free. Frankly, Jeongguk is just as surprised—that wasn’t the plan for tonight. Still, if there is a single chance of Jeongguk finding Kim Taehyung after all these years, he’s not going to let it slip away.

“Are you… sure that’s how you want to do things?” Jimin asks. “You’re not going to hold me hostage and release me just for when you need me to gather information?”

“Park Jimin, I can summon you back here and find you within seconds, wherever you are, in whatever dimension you set your foot in. And I’m fond of my personal space—I don’t like sharing my lair with anyone else but Seokjin hyung.” He glances over toward his familiar, smiling fondly. “Now. Kim Taehyung. Remember that name. Remember that name and find him for me.”

Finally, Jimin nods, straightening his back. He glances over toward the door—the only exit out of the room—and with a single glance at it, Jeongguk slams it open.

“Go,” he taunts, narrowing his eyes at Jimin. “Before I change my mind.”

“See you in a couple of days then, warlock.”

Within a blink of an eye, Jimin is out the door, newspapers flying around the room as he disappears at the speed of light.

Even though he hasn’t killed him, Jeongguk knows he’s going to be jacking off to the thought of blood running down Jimin’s white dress shirt anyway.

 

 

Jeongguk looks out of the window, staring down at the city that stretches itself in deep grays, seemingly dull but so, so deceiving. This city holds all the secrets Jeongguk already knows, though there is one secret he doesn’t—where to find Kim Taehyung. Jeongguk has a lot of unfinished business with a lot of people, but he doesn’t mind taking his time. Throughout the years they all fell into his hands one way or another—well. Everyone but Kim Taehyung.

He tries to not think about Jimin too much, without success. It’s been exactly three days since he’d sent the vampire off to gather information, and he hasn’t bothered summoning him back. A part of him wanted to, for more reasons than just finding out if Jimin’s got a single lead. Even though he hates to admit it, there is something about the way Jimin carries himself that has Jeongguk’s interest piqued, and a face as pretty as his cannot just go unnoticed. Jeongguk isn’t blind. Still, every thought of Jimin is followed by a nasty twinge of his stomach, a knot tightening at the base of it.

“You’ve been staring awfully long,” comes Seokjin’s voice behind him, making Jeongguk jump in surprise. His familiar walks over to him, handing him a cup of tea. “Here. Been thinking about that vampire a little too much, haven’t you?”

“Thanks.” Jeongguk takes the cup between his hands, bringing the scorching hot liquid to his lips. It’s herbal, and Jeongguk hates it. But, it’s good for his organs, keeps them vital and functioning and despite being immortal, Jeongguk still needs to take good care of himself. Dark, tainted magic runs through his blood and a long time ago, it used to be a little too much power for his weak, human body. Now, things are different. But so is Jeongguk. “Yeah. What did you find out?”

Jeongguk hasn't been sitting around doing nothing. He'd ordered Seokjin to follow Jimin; just because he's a prisoner doesn't mean he should be trusted by any means. Jeongguk trusts no one—especially not a human trafficking vampire who deals with creatures such as demons every day.

“Well, it’s all true,” Seokjin says, walking over toward the sofa. He settles down onto it, crossing his legs. He looks out the window too, eyes darkening. “He runs a brothel. Hunts humans in clubs and bars, gets a bunch at the time. Has fun with them first, sells them to demons later. He’s very well known in the underworld. Not a single person on the street hasn’t at least heard of him. He’s been around for a few hundred years.”

Jeongguk cocks an eyebrow. “So, he seduces them, then feeds.”

Seokjin nods. Jeongguk isn’t surprised. If he weren’t immune to vampires, he’d probably fall for Jimin’s sultriness, those smoldering eyes and smooth, low voice. Though, Jeongguk expected that Jimin would probably have people working for him—and he’s only surprised that it’s not the case. Still, his stomach twists with disgust.

“Word on the street is that governor Kim knows, but he’s doing nothing about it even though what Park is doing is beyond fucking illegal,” Seokjin sighs, waving his hand. “Which means that whatever connections he has are really damn good. And I have no doubts it has everything to do with the elder demons.”

“Governor Kim is nothing but an insignificant dog,” Jeongguk mutters, lips twitching with disapproval. Werewolves have always been too easy to kill, too moral and just. Everything Jeongguk is not, or at least hasn’t been in a very long time. “He knows better than to fuck with a deranged vampire who trades with demons.”

Seokjin hums noncommittally. “You have a point. Still, you should consider summoning the bloodsucker soon. I’ve followed him for a bit, and it seemed as if he was asking around, meeting up with fairies and other vampires, running in circles I heard he usually stirs clear from.”

“You didn’t make yourself too obvious, I hope?”

“Not at all.” Seokjin smiles comfortingly. “I’ve been in my regular form. He hasn’t suspected a thing.”

A long time ago, Seokjin only had one form—a crow. Jeongguk’s familiar, his beautiful, pretty crow who’d fetch herbs for him from the other side of the village, a bird who attacked anyone who’d ever try to bully or intimidate him, someone who’d keep its feet placed firmly on Jeongguk’s shoulders as he’d walk through his village. And so he was, until Jeongguk became powerful enough to give him a human form and make him immortal. He then became what he is to this day—his life companion.

“Good,” Jeongguk says, smiling warmly at him. “Thank you, hyung. I was thinking I might summon him tonight. Not that I expect him to have anything, but it’d be good to check him out and see how he operates. If we’re gonna be dealing with him, I might as well gain some… insight.”

Seokjin nods, licking his lips. He keeps staring outside the window as dusk sets on the horizon, sun falling behind the skyscrapers and letting the night slowly take over. Jeongguk drinks his tea, running his fingers through his hair with a sigh. He doesn’t like interacting with strangers unless it’s for business and having to summon Jimin to his lair somehow makes him feel all wrong. He can’t quite put his finger on it, and as much as Jeongguk doesn’t like having outsiders in his lair unless he plans on killing them—he sure as hell isn’t going to seek out Jimin in his brothel. The idea of Jimin knowing where Jeongguk lives doesn’t bother him—besides, Seokjin handles his business transactions directly from home, and Jeongguk lives in what’s possibly one of the most secure places in the whole world. It’s the fact that he’s going to be coming in and out, studying the place, getting a glimpse of Jeongguk.

Vampires are clever and observant and this vampire—although no match for Jeongguk all on his own—is dangerous.

“Are you going to need me for that?” Seokjin asks, glancing up at him.

Jeongguk finishes his tea and leaves the mug on the coffee table in front of Seokjin, shaking his head. “Nah. You can rest. You’ve been out every night for the past few days.”

“It’s okay,” says Seokjin, rising to his feet and dusting off his sweater with a frown. Despite the stern look on his face Jeongguk can see the slight hint of dark circles forming under his eyes, and he knows that his familiar is tired. “If you need me to stay up, I’ll stay up.”

Jeongguk’s features soften and he walks over toward him, placing his hand onto Seokjin’s shoulder. He squeezes it reassuringly, offering a small smile. “I could handle a coven of a thousand vampires all on my own, hyung,” he says softly. “I think I’ll be good handling just this one, too.”

“I know you can.” Seokjin purses his lips. “Just making sure.”

“Come on.” Jeongguk tugs at the fabric of his sweater. “Let me make you some sleeping tea.”

Seokjin whines but allows Jeongguk to drag him downstairs, patiently waiting as Jeongguk fusses around and makes him the herbal tea he knows is going to knock him out for at least the next forty-eight hours. Seokjin needs rest and frankly, he’s of no use of Jeongguk if he’s tired and barely standing on his feet.

“Drink up, it’s strong,” Jeongguk encourages as he passes him the mug, a strong herbal scent filling up his nostrils.

He waits up until Seokjin is finished and then disappears into his nest, leaving Jeongguk all alone in his lair. He glances at his reflection as he passes a mirror wall in the hallway, stopping for a brief moment to take a better look. Jeongguk looks tired too, swallowed by his oversized clothing and looking as bad as he feels. Insomnia has crept up on him again and he should possibly take his own advice and make some sleeping tea for himself, but there are other things he needs to take care of. The low after a night he and Seokjin had just three days ago always hits him hard—and that’s possibly why Seokjin was so hesitant to leave him alone with Jimin in the first place.

It’s not even about whether something is going to happen to him or not, because they both know that could never be the case. But Jeongguk does get drained, he does fall into bed for days at a time, unable to get up not because his power has worn him out, but because the adrenaline sent him so high up, it’s only possible to crash down hard after that.

He walks over toward his closet, slipping his robe and his gloves on, glancing toward the window again only to see that the day has entirely bled into night. The fog has fallen over the city and Jeongguk huffs; it’s the worst time of day. It’s when all the tainted creatures come out, it’s when crimes happen the most. In the mist, where no one can see them. Jeongguk doesn’t bother changing out of his baggy clothes—the robe covers them just fine. He runs his fingers through his hair before he slips his gloves on and makes his way out of the room.

Once he’s in his lair—his actual lair and not his and Seokjin’s living quarters—he feels a rush of dark magic inside of him, making his chest heave as he’s hit with that much energy all at once. He always feels the most powerful in his lair and even now, when he’s drained and down, he feels like he could conquer the whole world. There are exactly a hundred different knives stacked up on the wall beside him, candles lit everywhere, fairy dust glowing in jars which hang from the black ceiling. There are skulls, demon powder, wolf bones and other magical items on the shelves around him, cauldrons and pots filled with vampire blood—for Jeongguk’s personal use only. Books stacked one on top of the other in rows which go as high up as they can until they hit the ceiling, though Jeongguk hasn’t really had much use of them anymore.

He takes the chalk from the table and steps into the middle of the room, sighing as he quickly draws a pentagram, then sets the candles all around it. He grabs one of the knives from his collection, slipping his glove off and cutting through his palm, absent-mindedly watching as black bleeds over the white wax. He shakes his hand, letting the remains drip over the pentagram then brings his palm to his lips, tongue darting out as to lick over the wound. The hair on the back of his neck stands up as he tastes the familiar metallic taste, so wonderful and contaminated with black magic it almost makes him shiver. Briefly, he laughs at the irony of this as he watches his palm heal before his eyes. He’s about to summon a vampire—a literal bloodsucker—yet Jeongguk is just as blood hungry as he is. He remembers Jimin calling him a sick fuck the other day and, well, he wasn’t wrong.

Now that Jeongguk has met Jimin, he can visualize his face and his presence—he doesn’t need anything of his. He can summon him anywhere at any time and really, Jeongguk doesn’t even need to draw the pentagram. Still, old habits die hard and more often than not, he likes doing things by the protocol.

He closes his eyes, hands clasped together as he mutters the spell under his breath and once he feels the temperature drop a couple degrees, he knows it’s time to open his eyes. Jimin stands before him in all of his pale glory, blood dripping down his chin as he looks back at Jeongguk with a hint of an annoyance on his face, arms crossed over his bare chest, his jeans unbuttoned and hanging low on his hips. Jeongguk hates the way his lips part at the sight; Jimin is like a wet dream coming straight from Jeongguk’s fantasies and the only thing staining his perfect skin, is the nasty stab wound from Jeongguk's magic infused dagger.

His silver hair is messy, pupils blown wide and nostrils flaring, fangs out and grazing over his lower lip. Jimin brings his thumb to the side of his jaw, wiping at the blood and then staring down at it sighing before he puts his thumb into his mouth and sucks on it, licking it clean.

“Warlock,” he says flatly, buttoning up his jeans.

Jeongguk forces himself to stop staring. Instead, he waves his hand and a shirt appears in Jimin’s hands, making the vampire quirk an eyebrow at him. “For me?”

“Put that on,” Jeongguk says, walking toward the summoning circle and kicking one of the candles away, allowing Jimin to walk out.

He then turns his back, listening carefully as the vampire slips the t-shirt on, busying himself with placing his knife back on the display. He’s not going to need it.

“What, not gonna tie me up this time around?” Jimin asks, holding his hands out together.

“No,” Jeongguk replies flatly, slumping down into his green velvet sofa. He gestures toward the purple armchair in front of him. “Sit down, bloodsucker.”

“Alright,” Jimin’s tone slips into something cold again, any trace of amusement in it gone. “What do you want? I was kind of busy, if you can’t tell.”

“Yeah, seducing innocent humans and feeding on them?” Jeongguk huffs, crossing his legs. “I can tell. You still got blood on your chin.”

Jimin frowns, wiping at his chin with the back of his hand. He doesn’t look too pleased with Jeongguk’s remark, but his fangs retract regardless, his demeanor relaxing once he settles down into the armchair in front of Jeongguk. There’s no fear in his eyes—not really—and Jeongguk doesn’t like how that makes him feel. Usually, even the creatures he has no reason hurting fear him and Jimin—even though he’s at Jeongguk’s mercy—doesn’t seem too fazed.

The vampire looks around, taking in his surroundings. His sharp eyes dart toward the bucket filled with vampire blood and he arches his eyebrow, making a low chuckle bubble up in Jeongguk’s throat.

“Vampire blood.” Jimin says, expression impassive again. “I’d say I’m surprised, but you are kind of predictable, warlock.”

“Is that so.”

Jimin hums. “For your information, I wasn’t feeding on a human,” he says, nose twitching. “I was feeding on a fairy, trying to get you some information about that elder demon, Kim Taehyung. Well, until you’ve so rudely interrupted me.”

Jimin’s gaze drops down to his lap and Jeongguk follows it, only then realizing that the vampire is still half-hard. When Jimin lifts his head there’s a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, making Jeongguk’s pulse quicken.

“It’s just a cock, Jeon Jeongguk,” Jimin shrugs, innocently smiling at him. “I’m sure you’ve seen at least one or two in your lifetime. No need to go into cardiac arrest over it.”

Jeongguk snorts, not at all surprised with how shameless Jimin is. He traffics humans without remorse and Jeongguk has met enough people in his lifetime to know exactly what type of person Park Jimin is. An ancient vampire, though still easy to read nonetheless—cares only about himself and what benefits him—and Jeongguk could spot those like him from a lifetime away. It takes one to know one, and Jeongguk knows himself all too well.

“Don’t flatter yourself, bloodsucker,” Jeongguk says, lips curling into a wicked smile. “I get off on just thinking about the way I’m going to cut off your limbs one by own if you prove yourself to be as worthless as I think you are. Your dick means nothing to me. In fact, it can be the first thing to go, especially if it’s going to be a distraction for you.”

Jimin tosses his head back and laughs, bright and airy. “Not a distraction, warlock,” he says, eyes glimmering with something evil. “A weapon. But you don’t need to worry your pretty little head about that. You want information, and I’m here to get it for you.”

Jeongguk gets up, walking over toward the liquor cabinet, feeling Jimin’s eyes on him as his robe swirls behind and brushes against the vampire. He takes out a bottle of whiskey, pouring himself a glass and then glancing over at Jimin, tilting his eyebrows in question.

“I might as well,” Jimin sighs, slumping further into the armchair. “Since you’ve ruined my fun for the night.”

Jeongguk pours them both a drink, quietly handing the heavy crystal glass to Jimin as he walks back to his seat. He doesn’t usually do this—drink with people who are supposed to be working for him—but he plans on getting as much as he can out of Jimin, and one drink isn’t going to hurt.

“Well then,” Jeongguk begins, crossing his legs again and licking his lips. “I heard you have been asking around. What I’m curious about is if you’ve found anything.”

“Frankly, no,” Jimin replies honestly, brows slightly knitting together. “Almost immediately after our first… encounter, I asked my bookkeeper if he knew anyone who goes by that name. Often, he’s the one in charge of who comes in and out and I’m out hunting, so I don’t always get to see. Usually, when an elder demon comes, I make sure that I’m there and ready to offer our finest products.”

Jeongguk winces. Products. Those poor, innocent humans—weak and stupid and helpless, and Jimin—he takes advantage of all of that.

“Go on,” Jeongguk urges, tightening his grip around the glass.

“Well, I figured I should know him, as I make it my mission to be there when someone so powerful comes to the brothels. As you already know, the elder demons are a rare gem; there aren’t too many in this world and they’re all more than valuable. But, after looking through our books, not even my bookkeeper could find anyone by that name. It didn’t even sound familiar.”

Jeongguk isn’t disappointed. He’s searched for Kim Taehyung for hundreds of years, and he’s always come up short. Even if he were to come across someone who knows of him, it would never lead anywhere; it’s like Kim Taehyung has dropped from the face of the earth. Only, Jeongguk knows he’s alive. He feels the elder demon still, feels his energy and the blood that runs through his veins is the one that tainted Jeongguk’s all those years ago.

In some weird, twisted way, it’s like they’re connected—even though Jeongguk doesn’t want them to be. Still, even though he knows the demon is alive, he can’t pinpoint his energy, can’t locate him, can’t find him. Kim Taehyung is possibly one of the few people in the world whose magic is stronger than his, and no matter what Jeongguk does, he can’t go against that.

“Can’t say I’m surprised,” says Jeongguk, taking a sip of his drink.

He doesn’t like the way Jimin looks so relaxed in his lair, picking at the material of his jeans with a disinterested expression. He should at least be a little uncomfortable, but the most Jeongguk gets is vague annoyance at the fact that he hasn’t found anything for him.

“Well, I was,” Jimin says, pursing his lips. “And so, I went out the last couple of nights. Went to some clubs, asked around. One of my contacts lead me to this fairy—Cha Hwan—whose brother is the current head of the Unseelie court. Apparently, they’ve had some dealings with an elder demon by the name of Taehyung a few years ago. I was just about to show Hwan why it is exactly that he should give me all the details about his brother,” Jimin sultrily licks at his bottom lip, then bites down onto it, suggestively looking at Jeongguk. “But then, I was so rudely interrupted by no one other than yourself.”

Cha Hwan, brother of the head of the Unseelie court. Jeongguk narrows his eyes, thinking until it finally clicks. Of course—he’s just killed the daughter of the head of the Unseelie court, and that must be his brother. He can’t help a pleased laugh which forms in the back of his throat; Jeongguk will gladly do the same to her father. Adrenaline riles up in his stomach, eyes widening as his lips spread into a wide grin; this is the first news he’s heard about Kim Taehyung in years.

It’s nothing, just hearsay, but it’s more than Jeongguk had in a very long time. It’s a start, a tiny step in the right direction, but it’s still a step. Jeongguk doesn’t have a problem slaughtering anyone who dares stand in his way of finding Kim Taehyung—if he has to—he’ll burn the whole world to find him. He just needs people who know things.

“What’s the fairy’s name?” Jeongguk asks. “The fairy who’s in charge?”

“Cha Hyungsik,” Jimin says, clasping his hands over his knee. “I have not managed to find out anything else, though. Fairies aren’t stupid, they’re not just going to spill information about someone as important as the head of the Unseelie court. Especially not if that someone is family. And now—you’ve interrupted something that could have been a wild night beneficial to the both of us.”

Jeongguk snorts. “I don’t need anything more than his name, you ridiculous vampire,” he says, voice dripping with mockery. “I’m Jeon Jeongguk.”

Jimin blinks at him, letting out a breath. “Well, then. Good for you, Jeon Jeongguk. But if Hyungsik is the head of the Unseelie court, his glamour is much more tricky and powerful than the ones you see on regular fairies. He won’t be found unless he wants to be, and I for a fact know that you need something of his in order to summon him. And you have nothing.”

Jeongguk feels light, his chest blossoming with warmth as he tilts his head to the side, eyes gleaming as he stares back at Jimin. He’s always known his gut would never fail him and Seokjin’s intuition has never been wrong either—to this day. For the first time in hundreds of years, Jeongguk is pleased he hasn’t killed someone.

“I have you,” he says, pointing his finger toward him. “And you have his brother.”

The smile on Jimin’s face is nothing short of pure evil, eyes glimmering in the dim light of his lair. He’s gorgeous, skin smooth, his gaze dangerous and his fangs displayed as he parts his lips and licks over them.

“I like the way you think, warlock,” he mutters, staring at him with so much force it makes heat coil up in Jimin’s stomach.

Jeongguk bites down on his lower lip, holding his breath as they keep their eyes on each other and Jeongguk isn’t sure who’s at whose mercy here, but he knows he could devour Jimin within seconds, only if he wanted to.

“A human trafficking brothel,” Jeongguk finally says, gulping down the rest of his drink.

“Absolutely,” Jimin says, doing the same.

Jeongguk stares at him, arousal stirring in his stomach, his fatigue suddenly fading.

“You’re a sick, twisted fuck,” he says, no bite to his tone.

Slowly, Jimin gets up from his seat, shuffling closer to Jeongguk. Jeongguk doesn’t even blink, not even when the vampire crouches in front of him, placing his hand on Jeongguk’s knee. He bares his teeth at him, a low hiss coming out of his throat, eyes darkening.

“Takes one to know one, warlock,” Jimin mutters in a low voice, keeping their eyes locked together.

Jeongguk smiles, tightening his grip around the crystal glass, squeezing until he crushes it, watching the crystal dust fall down onto the floor.

“You got that right,” he says, getting up to his feet and knocking Jimin’s hand away from his knee, exiting his lair without a single glance over his shoulder.