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| Damon |
Damon couldn't sleep. He lay awake as the hours passed by; all he could think about was how much he wanted to rip Wilson apart. He seethed and scowled, trying to resist the urge to get up because Jackson asked him not to act on his anger and possessive, protective instincts...but how could he just fucking lay there and do nothing after that filthy, pathetic little muto kissed his mate?
He gritted his teeth and clenched his jaw. No matter how much he tried to focus on the fact that Jackson and his feelings mattered more to him than his own, he couldn't stop thinking about all the ways he wanted to make Wilson suffer. He wanted to rip his tongue out so he couldn't say another word to Jackson; he wanted to break every bone in his hands so that he couldn't touch Jackson, and he wanted to gouge his eyes out and shove them down his throat so that he couldn't so much as lay eyes on his mate, and only when he was on the very urge of bleeding out would he end his miserable life.
With a conflicted scowl, he looked down at Jackson, who was sleeping silently beside him with his head on his chest. He didn't want to do something that would hurt and upset the man he loved...but he couldn't just lay there knowing that someone else had touched and kissed his mate. He couldn't ignore the growing desire to do what he had every right to do.
He tried and tried and tried to ignore it...but when the clock struck eight, he gave in. He couldn't fight it—he didn't want to. Wilson deserved what Damon was about to give him, and not only because he kissed his mate; not long ago, Wilson also hurt Jackson—he lashed out—and Damon wouldn't let anything like that happen again. He'd not leave someone in his midst who wanted Jackson, someone who evidently didn't give a shit that Jackson was mated.
Damon got out of bed. He looked back at Jackson before he left the room, but any hesitation he had withered away. He was doing this for Jackson. The sooner Wilson was gone, the sooner things would be better for everyone. And it wasn't like they needed him; Lucian had already extracted the lab's location from Wilson's mind, and even if he didn't have exact coordinates, Damon was capable of finding the place once they reached the general area.
He navigated the halls of the still, silent mansion. It seemed like everyone was asleep, so getting to Wilson would hopefully be easier.
When he reached the main hall, he made his way to the elevator and pressed the button. He waited for it to arrive, watching as the dial above the doors slowly shifted from number to number. But he quickly grew impatient. His anger and frustration grew with each passing second, and his hands ached to get around Wilson's neck. He was going to make him wish he'd never so much as thought he'd have Jackson.
The elevator arrived, and the doors slid open—
"There you are," came Raphael's voice.
Damon sharply turned his head and set his eyes on the orange-haired man. "What?" he snapped confusedly.
"Cyrus said you and your little Redblood friend had questions, and since I'm waiting for Strămoş Luca to finish doing whatever he's doing, I thought I'd get it out of the way." He stopped beside Damon and glanced at the elevator. "Going somewhere?"
The Alpha glared into the elevator; he tensed up as his anger and desperation to protect Jackson urged him forward. He wanted to do it—he had to do it—
"Hello?" Raphael drawled, waving his hand in Damon's face.
Damon snarled irritably. His anger shifted towards Raphael, but it was just as well. Despite his instincts, his right, and his emotions, he knew that if he did this...Jackson might not forgive him. As much as he wanted to make Wilson pay...he shouldn't. So he sighed and stepped away from the elevator. "Has Cyrus found out where Kane is yet?"
"Nope. The sentries are still out searching."
"So what are you waiting on Alucard for?"
Raphael got defensive. "That's my business."
The Alpha scoffed, and when the elevator doors shut, he sighed and turned to face Raphael. "Tokala's upstairs in one of the rooms."
"Actually he's in one of the lounges. Elias caught him snooping around in the winter study—a place no one is supposed to go," Raphael said as he crossed his arms. "Said he was looking for information about the Greyblood line...for you."
Damon frowned strangely. But he wasn't completely surprised that Tokala would want to help him. "Is Lucian going to break his leg, too?" he asked with a snarl.
Raphael scoffed. "That's for you to decide. This way." He turned around and started walking back the way he'd come.
Damon followed him through the corridor and past Cyrus' office. When they reached a lounge—which was deserted apart from Tokala, who was sitting on the couch in front of the fireplace—Raphael invited Damon to sit next to his Zeta and slumped down in the armchair.
"So?" Raphael mumbled impatiently. "Talk."
The Alpha sat down.
Tokala cleared his throat and said, "I really was just looking for information on Alpha Damon's bloodline."
"That's not what we're here for," Raphael muttered. "Your Alpha wants to know about our bloodline."
The Zeta frowned confusedly. "Oh...okay."
Damon turned to face him. "Did your mother ever teach or tell you about the power that comes with your bloodline?"
Tokala scratched the side of his face and shook his head. "No. To be honest, I didn't even know the wolves in my line could do the kinds of things you do," he said, glancing at Raphael.
"Cyrus already told you that if our power isn't practised and mastered before a certain age, it can become very stubborn and hard to wake up," Raphael said to Damon. He shifted his sights to Tokala. "So, if you want to tap into it, it's going to be near impossible, and it'll take more time than we have here for me to teach you."
"Well...I've managed all my life without it," Tokala said, glancing at Damon. "And if we don't have time, I won't make us stick around so—"
"It could be an incredible asset," Damon interjected. "And with the increasing cadejo threat, we could do with as many upper hands as we can get."
But to Damon's confusion, Tokala looked hesitant.
"You're also quite far down the line," Raphael said. "Our blood doesn't weaken as fast as the Grey line did, but you're going to have a much smaller number of ethos copias, which will limit what you're capable of."
"So it's possible that I'm not even capable of anything at all," Tokala mumbled. "Right?"
"No," Raphael disagreed. "Like I said, our line is stronger. Strămoş Luca is a Numen, and Numen blood is the strongest kind you'll find in any of the worlds. It doesn't weaken easily, and it doesn't dilute when mixed with the blood of other Caeleste, either. You could be the hundredth generation and you'd still have enough of Strămoş Luca's ethos to use the abilities our line can access."
Tokala looked increasingly uncomfortable, and it only just hit Damon why. He knew that Tokala and his mother distanced themselves from the clan of Redbloods they were related to, and talking about it like this must be upsetting him. But Damon wanted what was best for his pack, and as a Zeta, Tokala should want the same.
He was curious about one thing, though. "Do the Eclipse Redbloods have access to different abilities?" he asked Raphael.
"In terms of Strămoş Luca's ethos, no. But they've been involved in so much cultish and dark shit over the years that we don't really know what they've gained access to now. My sister is trying to reason with them and get them to talk to Strămoş Luca, but the last we heard, it's not going so well, and they've somehow managed to find a way to see through her cloaking ethos, which should be impossible," he explained with a pondering tone.
Tokala then sighed deeply. "Look, I don't want to be rude, but my mother left that life behind for a reason. If I start using the ethos that she tried to spare me from, then I'd be making all of her sacrifices for nothing."
Damon hadn't considered that. From the stories he heard, he knew that Tokala's mother went through a great ordeal to escape from the Redbloods, and he didn't want to order Tokala to make all of that meaningless. But it wouldn't be meaningless, would it? Tokala would be using that power to help people instead of feeding his own ego and climbing his way to some sort of superior pinnacle like the Crescent Redbloods seemed to be doing. Still, he wouldn't demand it...but he did expect Tokala to come to this conclusion himself.
Raphael's pondering expression returned. "Did she ever tell you about the Eclipse Redbloods?"
Tokala shrugged uncomfortably. "A little."
"Such as?"
He huffed and leaned back. "The Redblood Trials, and the reason they went off on their own in the first place. I didn't even know this Alucard Numen was connected to my line."
Raphael sighed irritably and said, "Well, if you decide that you want to learn, I can tell and teach you what I can before you guys go off to find the lab."
Tokala shook his head. "I don't."
"Think about it," Damon said firmly.
The Zeta frowned strangely at him. "I'm not going to change my mind, chief. I'm sorry."
Damon sighed quietly and set his eyes on him again. "Your mother wanted to spare you from the cult and dark ethos; if you were to use your Redblood power for something like ensuring that we got to the lab where the answers to a cure to the cadejo virus could be, she wouldn't feel betrayed, Tokala. You'd be saving not only us but the rest of the Caeleste out here."
Tokala sighed and shook his head. "I understand what you're saying, but I just...can't."
"I don't blame you," Raphael muttered. "But Damon's right. You guys need all the help you can get out there. Even without the cadejo prowling around, the mountains are a dangerous place."
The Zeta's discomfort was quickly accompanied by frustration. "We've got Jackson," he insisted.
"But Jackson is just a hybrid—"
"An asmodi demon," Tokala cut Raphael off. "He's got access to two Numen's ethos."
"It's not the same," Raphael said, crossing his arms. "Blood is stronger than ethos. Jackson's Caederian ethos is like a pinhead next to a fucking moon. He can punch someone through a wall, you could probably punch someone through several buildings."
But Tokala wasn't at all tempted. He shook his head again. "I don't want it, okay? I'm sorry." He got up and left the room.
Damon let him go.
"So much for that," Raphael mumbled. "Aren't you gonna go after him?"
"I'm not going to force him to do something he doesn't want to," Damon said with a roll of his eyes. "I'll give him time to see if he changes his mind, and if he doesn't, we'll manage."
"At least you have Sebastien to count on."
"Hmm," he mumbled. "What is Alucard planning to do with Tokala's Eclipse relatives?"
Raphael sighed deeply and stared into the fireplace. "Well, they're his descendants, so he wants to try and come to some sort of agreement with them; offer them sanctuary, help them find what they're looking for, that sort of thing. But they're getting dangerously close to both Strămoş Luca's and Strămoş Zalith's limit. They're using forbidden spells and ethos, they've murdered countless Caeleste and humans, and my Strămoş' are worried that they might soon forge alliances with the Diabolus."
"And that's a huge problem because...?"
"Because the Diabolus are another cult of crazy fucking psychos who use dark and dangerous ethos. They've been trying for centuries to resurrect Lucifer, and if they get a hold of a Redblood close enough to Strămoş Luca, they might just be able to do it. We can't have that."
Damon had heard stories about Lucifer; that long-dead Numen was Alucard's father, and to become a full Numen, Alucard had killed Lucifer and absorbed his power, so bringing Lucifer back probably involved killing Alucard, and Damon didn't want that to happen because then the Nosferatu would be weaker and the chances of finding a cure would drastically drop. But it wasn't like there was anything that he could do to help.
"Anyway, you just focus on getting to the lab after we're finished with this Kane business," Raphael said as he sat up straight. "Is there anything else or can I go?"
He didn't have any burning questions to ask. All he could think about was how he hoped Tokala would change his mind...and how he still wanted to tear Wilson apart.
Damon clenched his jaw and fists at the thought of that muto. But he'd already decided that he wasn't going to give in. Jackson wouldn't forgive him if he killed his friend, the same friend he'd come all the way out to Ascela to find. As much as Damon hated Wilson.... No, he wasn't going to let it slide. He was going to teach him a lesson...he'd just have to make sure that he didn't kill him while doing it.
He shifted his sights to Raphael and shook his head. "That's it. But if Tokala agrees, how long will it take for you to teach him enough so that he doesn't lose control of this power of his?"
"It varies from person to person. I don't know what abilities he has, nor do I know how well he'll handle it. But if he wants to learn, I'll do what I can with whatever time we get."
Damon nodded and said, "Thanks. I appreciate it."
Raphael nodded and stood up. "I don't think it's going to be much longer until we're ready to talk about a plan, so get as much rest as you can." He then left the room.
The Alpha sighed deeply and glanced around the room. But he didn't want to sit there too long and let the silence encourage his anger, so he got up and started making his way back to the room where he'd left Jackson. He hadn't gotten any sleep yet, and he knew that if he didn't at least try to get some rest before it was time to head out, he might not be able to focus as much as he needed to. He needed to be alert and ready out there; he wasn't going to let any more of his packmates get hurt...or worse.
And he'd make sure that Wilson never laid another hand on his mate.
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