The Red String

To the Bone

"Lao Wen. Lao Wen. Lao Wen...let's drink!"

It was a bucket of cold water on his soul and his head suddenly ached so much, he grabbed it and growled with his eyes closed. The world was too bright and vivid in his already sensitive eyesight and his ears caught every sound, but it didn't match to the scene before him. It was the sound of the hustle and bustle in a market, the low din of voices passing by in a blur. There was something just beyond his reach, something almost tangible and he felt very important, but it turned to sand in his mind's hand and fell through those invisible fingers. 

The world came back into focus and he raised his head to see the male cutting a path to him with a single-minded determination. Wen Kexing glided forward as well, feeling as though there was a string pulling him towards the handsome male. He couldn't help but admire the way the male's face moved with a comfortable viciousness. As though he was at home in the battle field with his hands covered in blood and death. 

The fight was slowing down as the male's group cut the vampires down with experienced strikes. Wen Kexing grabbed a vampire that rushed at him and sank his talons into his neck, ripping his throat out without blinking. He snarled and leapt into the air, riding a vampire to the ground and crushing the skull of another with his heel. The two male's were getting closer, and he continued to swath a path through the growling bodies of rogue vampires. At last, they faced each other and the male froze in the midst of the dying chaos. Wen Kexing tilted his head when the male looked as though he was going to reach out, his lips forming that name quietly again. "Lao Wen."

He blinked and saw that the male then noticed his coppery eyes. He watched as the male pulled back, his face contorting with both a peculiar relief mixed with an agony that traveled to Wen Kexing's insides, twisting and turning like a knife. A memory from a life before he had been a vampire swam through the murky pools of his mind, and the hard face in front of him transformed into one that smiled like the first rays of morning. He had a dream a long time ago of a man who made his heart soft and his blood rush. His fingers twitched with the need to reach out, to touch those lips and see if they would smile for him again, but the male had taken a step back from him. He was reminded once again that his heart did not beat and the blood in his veins was not even really his. 

For once, he was self-conscious of his vampiric qualities, something he hadn't felt in a long time, and he touched the corner of his eye unsurely. The male immediately appeared apologetic and stepped closer again, his fingers tightening around the bloody fan he held. Just when he was close enough that Wen Kexing could discern his scent amongst the blood and crackle of magic, the male's eyes sharpened and he couldn't help the defensive snarl that curled his mouth. His sharp teeth peeked over his pale lips, ready to strike, but the fan the male held tightly was pressed into his hand. Those fingers were impossibly warm on his death-cooled skin and he savored the sensation of life that came so close to him. 

The male dropped the long dagger and reached under his leather coat to unsheathe a sword from around his slim waist. It was honed and delicate, but it was directed true when the male jumped into the air above Kexing and brought it down in a sleek strike. Wen Kexing gathered his scattered wits and whirled in time to see the blade cleave a vampire near in two. The body fell to the ground in a jumbled heap and the mysterious male stood before it looking as though he was going to further mutilate the second-deceased vampire. His chest heaved, and Kexing could hear his heart drumming out a rapid beat in his ribcage. 

Wen Kexing couldn't help but admire his deadly beauty just then. He had lived for a long time but to see someone so flawless and with a penchant for death stirred him. The wind shifted, blowing the male's scent in his direction and he caught a whiff of the most delicious aroma he had ever beheld. There were notes of fresh citrus and flavorful wine that swirled around him, clouding his self-control. His eyes glowed scarlet and his tongue flicked out to get a taste. The male turned around and, instead of being repulsed, regarded him carefully. His eyes roved from his unnatural eyes to his teeth, and then down to the hand that still held the fan naturally.