Chapter Text
“Scott, did you get that?”
“Scott!”
Abolish’s slightly annoyed voice cut through his thoughts. Scott knew that the annoyance wasn’t necessarily directed at him, however, and more at the latest assignment in general.
Abolish looked like he was regretting all his life choices as he reiterated, “Can you do that?”
Scott flashed him a fanged smile, clawed hand adding a flourish to his words as he lounged on the carriage seat, “Anything for you Lord Veylocke.”
Abolish shot him an unimpressed stare, but Scott could see the slightest uptick of his lips.
“...But, just to make sure, tell me again.”
The stare turned sharply into a glower. So, just maybe, the annoyance was directed at him.
...
The road was long but surprisingly flat, especially considering it had been a hundred years at least since anyone should have been down these roads. Though ‘road’ may be a generous term.
Scott had made himself comfortable on the fittingly colored blood red seats inside the carriage, though he was mindful not to drape across too much of the seat. That would have been outright rude after all, and Scott did many things, but being an ungracious host wasn’t one of them.
Although, he supposed that really only applied now that they were on Oakhurst lands.
Across from him, Louis was happily combing a hand through Owen’s tangled matt of hair, trying to fix the long locks.
In Scott’s very professional opinion, it was a lost cause, but it also gave him a delightful view of Owen sulking like a wet cat, so he wasn’t going to complain. Though Scott knew he was letting Louis do it; the two had become increasingly sappy over the last two hundred years. Scott was witness to all of it; it was a horror, truly.
Their coven bond sat in the back of his mind, humming pleasantly at the proximity. Scott had turned many people, but after so long asleep, those fledgling bonds had slowly faded away, leaving only Owen and Louis as his coven mates, a fact he was fine with.
He was still the eldest vampire and leader of the coven after all.
On his left sat Abolish Veylocke, the reason he couldn’t lounge dramatically across the whole seat. It was quite rude of him really.
Abolish, on the outside, seemed put together and unmoving, expression the pinnacle of neutral. But Scott could spot the minute details that betrayed the image. The smallest downturn of his lips and the slightest twitch of his fingers toward the case file on his lap. He could tell by the single unbuttoned top button on his vest, a nervous tick when he felt he needed more space to breathe.
Scott never understood that one, but then again, he hadn’t breathed in nigh a thousand years.
Scott himself had been refraining from turning the solid gold ring on his clawed middle finger, mentally berating himself for having developed such an obvious tell.
Regardless, being a stage two vampire was making him twitchy. Not in the bloodlust way, he had much more control than that, but in a doomed to go wrong kind of way. Tempting whatever divine being may still be out there, one might say.
Unfortunately, their last mission had left him in rather undesirable circumstances, and he had been unable to get back to level three before they were sent off once again.
Louis and Owen were in similar situations, though he knew Owen was just as likely to start swinging with an axe than his claws even when he was at stage three. Louis really did pick a rather feral fledgling.
He was jolted out of his when there was a knock on the side of the carriage, signaling their arrival.
But when he smoothly stepped out, he realized they were hardly close to the town, let alone his castle.
The forest, in the absence of people, had seemed to have started to swallow everything. Vines hung from trees, the grass a lush green that encroached on the road. Towering spruces loomed and seemed to lean toward the path, just waiting. For what, he could only guess. Scott could also hear the chirping of birds and knew, had it been night, he would have heard the swooshing of leathery wings as well.
As it was, his piercing red gaze dissected everything before him, looking for any signs of an ambush or the like. Finally, he settled on the obvious disturbance in the road, the tall spruce that had splintered and fallen diagonally onto their route.
He mussed that they could move the tree, superstrength and all, before he saw the dirt path that lay beyond it.
It was not at all suitable for any transportation with wheels, with multiple dips in the path and craters that would make it impossible to stay on the road. Scott could even see more fallen trees further in the brush and knew they would have to continue on foot.
Scott turned back to the group who had all gotten out of the carriage. Abolish was gazing at their surroundings, searching, Scott knew, for the exact same situation he had been minutes ago.
“Gu dearbh,” Scott murmured in a sarcastic tone before continuing in English.
“Paths blocked and uneven, we’ll just have to walk from here,” he looked to Abolish to see him nodding his head. Technically, Abolish was the leader of their little group, but Scott was the coven’s so his word did hold some weight (really just with Louis because Scott was under no delusion that Owen cared about a word he said).
They all continued on foot, after sending off the coachman that was, stepping over various forest obstructions, following what remained of the dirt path.
Scott could practically hear his overcoat ripping on a branch already. Truly, the things he was asked to do were outrageous.
However, it wasn’t long before they were perking their ears up, distant footsteps and chattering in the distance. Distant drole that grated Scott’s ears, but he guessed it meant they were close.
Wait. Chatter? According to the Organization, nobody lived in Oakhurst anymore; hadn’t for nigh a century, though Scott knew his castle still stood strong a distance away.
A short time later, they had made it to the gates, or what was left of them.
Scott didn’t remember the town having a wooden wall, but he supposed it had been a bit since he’d been here. It was a rather tall barrier, with obvious signs of wear, from the scorch marks to the grass and vines steadily growing up it.
It was at the gates that they met the first human who should not be there.
A writer by the name of M, though he insisted on being called Sausage, of all things.
He then asked what they were all doing there, and that was where Scott knew he had to take over.
Abolish, as dashing as he was in full gear and quick thinking, had never been good at improvisation story wise. He’d probably make a bunch of comments about manors and manners, knowing him.
Scott stepped forward with decisiveness, story already ready.
“Ah Mr. M, my name is Scott Goldsmith,” Scott introduced himself with a slight bow. Dramatics would take away from any plot holes the story he had come up with. Performing had always been a favorite pass time for Scott, and he knew how to get people hooked with just a few words.
“This here,” he indicated to his right, “is my nephew Louis Goldsmith and his husband-to-be Owen. The gentleman to my left is my butler Abolish. Our family used to reside over these lands, and we came to collect some family heirlooms that were left behind before the wedding.”
His insides writhed as he said, ‘used to reside’, wanting to stake his claim and get this man to leave his lands but knowing the story couldn’t possibly line up with the current state of things. So, he held his tongue, taking enjoyment in the deadpan stare he could feel Abolish drilling into him at his own cover story.
He had played a butler for the last two missions. What was one more, especially one where they would hardly be there for a few days? And Scott personally thought he looked ravishing in his butler outfit, though Abolish called it his normal wear. As if Scott didn’t know he was raised by one of the last ancient and noble houses of vampires; the man was no butler. Which was what made this so amusing.
“Oh! Why’d your family leave? It wouldn’t have anything to do with the bones, would it?”
“Bones?” Scott inquired lightly, “No, I know of no bones. Pray tell Mr. M.”
“It would be better if I showed you, I believe. Made for excellent writing material after all.”
...
There were bones. Hundreds of them. Corpses withered away to their most basic layer, the only remnants of a story nobody yet knew.
Scott was no stranger to violence. He’d caused it; he’d reveled in it. Watching with apathetic eyes as everything around him burned, seemingly for his entertainment. But, if the last two hundred years had taught him anything, it was to protect what was his own. His coven. His position. His.... Abolish.
He knew he still could, and still would, commit atrocities if the right pressure was applied. He knew what he’d do to keep him coven safe. And if push came to shove... This would be it.
He was brought out of his reverie by Abolish’s hand on his shoulder. Scott, inexplicably, felt the sudden desire to lay his own on top of Abolish’s. Offer him the support he was offering.
He didn’t know what to do with that... feeling? If it even was one. Over the years, he had come to recognize the looks Louis and Owen shared as some sort of... love he supposed. He knew it was a possibility to feel emotions as what they were, but he felt as unmoving as he always was... always was since two centuries ago but still.
He shook away the overwhelming thoughts, Abolish’s slightly shaking hand going with them as they made their way back to the town of Oakhurst.
...
Their story was repeated what seemed like endlessly, the number of ‘humans who should not be here’ having grown and grown until Scott was sick and tired of chatter, backstories, and humans.
Everyone had their own motivations, their own excuses, for being at Oakhurst, a town which had not seen any signs of humanity for a century. Or so they’d been told.
There was a doctor with a too piercing stare but words of causing no harm.
The writer they had met before, who was here for ‘writing inspiration’.
A military soldier who was here to claim his land as hers.
A farmer who was too outspoken.
A werewolf hunter who seemed to have the scars to prove it.
A young (fake) noble who spoke too loud and noticed too little.
A cursed man to only speak in tongues, searching for an answer he wouldn’t like.
An eccentric fanfiction (whatever that is) writer and bigfoot (again, what?) searcher.
A detective who seemed to be chasing her next big case.
A scholar who probably murdered someone.
And a wannabe vampire hunter.
Only that last one had caused them any issues.
...
As soon as Scott saw the purple eyed twink he knew there would be issues. He has armed to the teeth with crossbows and wooden stakes, raving about vampires and garlic and silver.
Scott could practically taste the annoyance in the air. He was enjoying that at least.
Then the idiot saw him. And immediately accused him of being a vampire.
Luckily, he had already made himself wildly unpopular with the group and they seemed to put no stalk into the ravings of the insane looking man.
He was right of course, but they could hardly be exposed on day one.
With a quick fib of being born with red eyes, backed up by his ‘dutiful’ butler, the man looked like the wind was taken out of his sails. Though, the deception would be revealed if Scott got to stage three while being in Oakhurst.
Though, apart from that, it seemed their story was bought. Everyone congratulated the husbands-to-be as was custom, and Scott wished whatever cuddly nonsense they did next was a performance, but he knew it wasn’t. Louis seemed to have taken the feedback as he could be as sappy as he wanted to be. Not even Owen’s disgruntled look could make up for the horrors he knew he would witness, especially since he knew Owen was internally preening at the attention.
With one look at Abolish, he knew the not-butler felt the same.
Regardless, while Scott’s presence as a noble seemed to be frowned upon, his ‘nephew’ marrying a poor lumberjack seemed to belay any discontent they felt with him. Abolish, also, seemed to be getting sympathizers as the butler to a noble, which was good as it meant he may be able to get information out of them, if they needed.
With everyone having made acquaintances, the villagers, and Scott’s group, set out to build temporary housing, Owen becoming wildly popular as he cut down tree after tree for building materials.
Scott hated to admit he was wrong but well... Scott may be slightly fond of his fledgling's fledgling.
...
As daylight weened out, the basics of a small shack had been built for Abolish and himself, Louis and Owen’s next door to the right, and the eccentric girl, Shelby, to the left, housing by herself. The villagers had mostly chosen to pair up, with a few outliers.
The shack was tiny, but Scott had been in much worse and it was only for a few days. Besides, it's not like they could move into the castle; that would cause way too much suspicion too soon.
However, what Scott had been doing while everyone else labored in sight was creating an underground meet up space, accessible from both their shacks via ladders and connected into a small room with a table in the center. Scott detested manual labor, but he knew they would need a meet up place to talk about all the unexpected challenges this supposedly easy mission had.
So, once the waxing gibbous of a moon was high in the night sky, and all the lights had been put out, they descended.
...
“To address the obvious,” Abolish began, “the humans.”
They were all sat around a long table in the room Scott had dug out.
It wasn’t a huge room, but a large rectangular table could fit in the middle with plenty of walking room on every side. There were ladders on both sides that allowed for access from their recently built shacks. Due to a lack of resources, it was nothing but a stone cave with some wooden support beams for safety. It wouldn’t do for the ceiling to fall and for Scott to be encased in stone once again.
Their bottles of blood had been moved to a small corner in carved out shelves. They had brought enough for a week, just in case the mission took much longer than anticipated.
Abolish was sitting at one end, while Scott was on the other. The chairs were wooden and the farthest thing from fancy, but they would do.
Owen and Louis, having no sense of symmetry, were both on one of the long sides with the other side empty.
Regardless, now it was time for a coven meeting -er, mission meeting? Whatever.
“Yes, there seems to be a lot of humans who should not be here,” Scott agreed.
“Don’t forget the bones. Those were from the last hundred years or so at the latest. People have definitely been here,” Louis added, Owen sitting beside him with his arms crossed, their chairs having been moved to be so close together their legs were touching.
“Yes, it seems the Organization has been missing quite a lot,” Scott added airily, thinking nothing of the sharp look Abolish sent his way. It wasn’t like they all weren’t thinking it. Really Scott was doing a service really, pointing out the obvious.
“Regardless of past information, we need to discuss our current objective; finding the cure to vampirism.”
Scott leaned heavily on one arm; no matter how many years go past, his least favorite part of these performances is always the meetings. The endless, redundant meetings.
After what seemed like hours, Abolish finally handed out assignments. How a man who spoke in so few words could make a meeting last so long was beyond him.
Scott was told to scout ahead at the castle, just to check the condition (as far as they knew, all information they had been given was wrong) and to make first check in with Morcant. Why Scott was tasked to do this alone, he didn’t really care to know. It was probably something about stealth or whatever.
To him, stealth was the least important factor imaginable, especially since they should be out in a few days' maximum.
But Scott knew Abolish liked stealth and efficiency; if a mission could be done with those two factors intact, it was a successful errand in Abolish’s eyes.
...
Scott went about a flight that night, flying high over the dense forest.
Scott flew by instinct to the castle, immensely pleased to find it whole, aside from a few dips and missing parts from the roof. Upon a quick search, he found nothing that would help with their mission, apart from possibly some of the books from the library (if they hadn’t turned to dust by now).
Regardless, Scott made no move to go in; despite the town turning in quite close to sundown, the meeting had taken a while, and Scott had already stopped to hunt for the night. They may have blood bottles with them, but it was hardly sensical to drink from those when he could hunt the wild animals easily enough. He had even bottled some of the blood, since it would do for him to ascend to a stage three vampire.
Though Avid’s face when he saw his suddenly snow-white hair did briefly amuse him. Abolish’s face did not.
Around what Scott guessed to be one or two hours before sunrise, Scott made his way to the edge of the forest, converging in on their meet up spot.
Only to be stopped by a barrier. Scott hissed but tried again, never getting past one particular point in the air. A sweep along the edge yielded the same results.
Someone had locked them in. Or locked themselves out, but Scott would put his inheritance on the former.
In an ironic twist of fate, Scott did find Morcant. About 50 paces too far and with his back turned.
Scott tried ramming the barrier again, hoping to gain his attention. Nothing. No sound seemed to get through.
He tried to squeak as a bat, but that did nothing either.
Finally, he settled on making it rain. He didn’t love how it would look to the villagers, if anyone was awake, but he needed Morcant's attention (Abolish had given him this job specifically, and he’d be damned if he didn’t do his part).
Finally, the absolute eejit looked up and caught sight of Scott, who by now had transformed back.
Scott said nothing, face grim; he was sure, as he beckoned Morcant forward. Truly, it was a testament to how much trust Scott had gained as Morcant edged forward before he no longer could.
He looked confused, pushing against the barrier with both clawed hands, white hair gleaming in the moonlight.
Scott raised his hand as well. Had the barrier not been there, they would both be feeling cold flesh, but instead, they felt a domed sort of taut wall. The only visual cue was the slight distortion of the air; some places blurred while other spaces were warped.
Morcant looked at Scott, and he could practically feel the uneasiness and apprehension written on his face.
Scott wanted to tell him Abolish was fine, everything was well so far, but he knew it was useless; no sound went through either. His face settled into a grimace, a face he hated making.
And so, when Morcant nodded once before flying away as a bat, all Scott could do was nod back; the grim expression mirrored.
As he flew back, he sent feedback to Louis:
FLEDLING?YESFLEDGLINGNEWSGATHERCOVEN
...
But when Scott got back, a mere hour before the sun would rise and eradicate the shadows enveloping the lands, he failed to notice the absence of a certain vampire hunter.
And by the time he did?
It was too little, too late.