AN: Hello, beautiful people! I am back again with more goodies! I'm happy to say this chapter is my longest so far, YAY! It contains a lot of different stuff, I hope you enjoy it. :)
Thanks again for reading, guys. This hamster really appreciates it.
Ohh, and in case I haven't spammed you enough, here's another pic of Zachary (David Gandy), hehe. Peace out,
Fearsome Hamster
"He seems to have had sudden internal bleeding, quite surprising given that he was seen shouting his lungs away just moments before fainting. I could hear him from my cabinet," the middle aged doctor remarked thoughtfully while checking Uncle Ray's vitals once more.
"But, sir, will he recover?" Margo fretfully twisted her fingers. Looking at her fallen friend lying on the crisp white single bed of the medical quarters, still unconscious with his too big tattered clothes dwarfing him, Uncle Ray seemed so fragile. So very breakable. She resisted the watery burning behind her eyes. She had to be strong for her old friend.
"Definite predictions are hard to tell in such cases, Miss." The man ended his consultation and slid his gaze to the concerned girl. "But it seems our Ray over here has a lucky heart, whatever shock caused him this ceased just in time before fatal damage could be inflicted to the organism. The drugs I gave him should take effect and accelerate the healing process."
He then proceded to enumerate a long list of recommended medicine amd pills that made Margo's head spin. Nevertheless, she wrote them down carefully, making it a point in the future to procure them as soon as possible.
"Don't worry, Miss. High chances are he will wake up in a couple of hours with nothing more than a nasty head ache," The doctor's brown eyes were warm, empathy for his patients obvious. Margo smiled back.
It was good to know there were still some people compassionate of others' suffering in this incoherent world. Unlike the stubborn man currently waiting outside the cabinet. She could swear Frost was just not capable of showing others basic human emotions besides his infuriating arrogance. At least not when it came to her. In her case, he was the most emotionally unstable man she had ever met.
Closing the doctor's door, the young woman met Frost's impatient stare.
She had a feeling he was not used to being ordered to wait. Still he had listened to her. Moreover, he was the one to dutifully carry Uncle Ray to the doctor. Margo could definitely not achieve this feat alone and for that she was grateful for his help today.
"I should probably stay here and wait till he wakes up. You can leave, you do not have to remain as well," said Margo.
"I am your betrothed, I cannot leave you here alone unprotected. The doctor himself said it might take hours for him to wake up" he muttered sullenly. How could he hear this? The physician's voice had been like a sandy lull, a bit hard to distinguish even close to him.
"Besides, you are tired after this whole ordeal," he surprised her by gently smoothing away the worry creases appearing on her forehead. She forgot how touch feely Zachary could be at times. "I will accompany you home and take care of the rest."
"But, Uncle Ray needs-," the girl fought to speak to the overbearing beast.
"I will be here for him when he wakes. I shall wait in your stead."
"And what about Madame Percy? I still need to notify her about this and I am quite sure she will not be pleased."
He grinned. "While you were inside, I took the liberty to go back to the inn and talk to her. She most accomodating to close her tavern for today."
Madame Percy closing her establishment for any occasion? That woman would make a profit out of an apocalypse. But, wait, if Frost had already talked to her before, then...
"You did this without my approval. Conceitedness will get you nowhere with me, Frost," she fumed.
"It will. Get used to it, little one." His wolfish grin widened. "And, call me Zachary, love, Zachary."
.......................
The walk back to the HartWell house was usually long. However, with Frost by her side, it turned to be excruciatingly slow. After she foolishly stumbled on a rock, in a typical fashion of her, Frost grabbed her by the hand and refused to let go. Even her terrifying glare, as testified by Benjamin, did nothing to intimidate him. The brute had the nerve to laugh and call her adorable.
Finally, the sight of the old rusty gates surrounding the HartWell mansion came into sight. She had never been happier to see that dilapidated fence. Frost's big hand had started to make her feel very strange and that was not just due to the sweat forming on her palm. She refused to dwell on this.
Passing through the imposing gate, Margo tried to imagine her home though his eyes. She could only guess the horrible impression it made on a man of his class. The grass of the small garden had long since overgrown decent standards, now resembling a small jungle like the ones she read about in her encyclopedia. Its only saving grace was a dusty pebbled path leading to the house. Decorated with a majestic porch and beautiful stained glass windows, the HartWell manor was a once a sight to behold even for the sophisticated nobility. However, ever since her mother's death, the building seemed to want to follow its mistress into the after life, with its its stone falling apart at some places and the roof getting more crooked every year. On especially terrible days, she thought of the mansion as a metaphor for her life.
From the corner of her eye, Margo noticed the curtains of one window slowly fluttering, revealing a white fuzzy haired head disappearing quickly. The girl suppressed a groan. That silhouette was surely Nana's. She was never going to hear to end of her grandmother's interrogatory if she did not let go of Frost's hand. Or rather, his of hers.
"Well, now that we arrived, after a very long walk, may I add, it's time we both part ways. Thank you again for your aid this day, it was priceless," she briefly touched his forearm with her free hand. "However, I know you have more demanding things to tend to. I don't want to keep you."
That was a delicate demand to let go of her hand. Which he did not. Either he was dense or stubborn. She was strongly leaning towards the latter.
"My only priority is currently sitting in front of me trying to cut our precious time short," Frost leaned into her and inhaled deeply, closing his eyes. His tone was controlled as if talking to himself as well. "But, I know time is what you seek right now and I shall give you, little one."
Before Margo could sigh in relief, Frost opened his eyes and smiled wickedly. That devilishly handsome grin of his could only spell trouble for her.
"But not before I get something to tide me over,"with her left hand still trapped in his, the indigo-eyed beast caressed her neck and bent towards her. Traitorous butterflies started raiding her stomach.
A subtle aroma of cinnamon drifted.
Margo's gaze drifted to Frost's approaching mouth. For such a beast of a man, he certainly had a soft pair of lips that made the girl's imagination wander on dangerous territory. He noticed her gaze and licked his lips in return. His own eyes were smoldering with sensual secrets he was all too willing to share with her. It was hard to be gazed at so intensely and pretend her heart was calm. Especially with that intoxicating scent filling her lungs.
However, something in the back of her mind yelled at her to put an end to this, despite what her crazy heart was whispering. Just as she was about to stop him, a saving grace appeared in a most unusual form.
Suddenly, a distraught hen ran between Frost's long legs, making him stumble. The girl laughed out loud. A first kiss interrupted by a bird, Margo was pretty sure that was a premiere. Thomas must have terrorised the chickens. Again. But this time only, she was surely not going to scold him for it. The sight of the strong proud man caught unaware by a hen was priceless.
"Bloody hell!" Frost roared, quickly pulling a giggling Margo in his arms protectively. His head whipped around until his furious eyes landed on the offending chicken. The bird cocked its head, a questioning cluck coming from its beak.
He peeled back its lips, a dangerous hiss interrupting Margo's chuckling and thus making the poor animal scurry for its life. What kind of man hisses at a hen? Either way, the sound sent cold shivers down her spine, dampening her mood. It reminded her of the cursed creature she left behind at the cemetery.
She was pulled back from her dangerous train of thoughts when she felt Frost nuzzling into her dark hair and breathing deeply. "You know, if you are scared of birds, you should have told me. Holding onto my hand makes sense now," Margo wiggled in his arms, while he remained silent. "The boogie man is gone now, please do release me."
Tickling her ear with his breath, he ominously countered back, sliding his hands tighter on her dress's ruffles "Little one, who says the boogie man is gone?"
"Frost, you are acting most inappropriate again. If anybody were to see us..."
"They would see a to be wed couple showing their affection for one another, I believe even this constrictive era would accept this basic notion." His voice turned husky, continuing, "and what did I tell you about using my name? It seems to me like you are trying to provoke me..." he let his sentence hang in mid air, not continuing it.
The idea of provoking him was both intriguing and reckless. The least she could admit to herself was that she liked infuriating him by referring to him by his family name.
"Margo has never brought a man home before," called out a new voice which she recognised too well.
Thomas! Margo hastily untangled herself from Frost's embrace, blushing at being caught by her little brother in such a position. Frost glowered at her. She might have also stomped on the aggravating man's feet to escape his hold.
Kneeling to Thomas' height, Frost surprised her by offering her brother a radiant smile. "Hello, Margo's brother. You do not know how happy your news makes me," over his broad shoulder, the man threw Margo a smug look, overflowing with possessiveness. The girl rolled her eyes. Frost's happiness was caused by the most ridiculous of things.
Bless his soul, Thomas was not instantly swayed, putting himself in front of Margo, in spite of the obvious height difference. The boy had an adorably fierce look on his face. "Who are you? I am Thomas. Nana says I am the real man of the family and therefore I should know this in order to protect my sister," to emphasise his words, Thomas puffed out his chest.
Margo was touched. Had Frost not been present, she would have probably started crying while pulling at her little brother's cheeks proudly.
Not ruining the boy's presentation, Frost saluted respectfully, raising his fingers to his forehead in a manly greeting. "I am honoured to say I shall join you from now on in your quest to protect Margo. My name is Zachary, I am..." noticing her panicked gaze, Frost paused " a close companion of hers. She is very dear to my heart, Thomas." Despite him talking to the her brother, his stare never wavered from hers at his last words. Those monstrous butterflies were making their presence known again.
Not observing their silent exchange, Thomas beamed at Frost. Margo could tell her brother considered him a friend now. If only everything could be as genuine as she believed when she was herself his age.
"Great, a new male friend! I haven't had one of those in so long." Thomas jumped in excitement. "You should come visit me tomorrow, we can discuss man stuff," the boy whispered conspiratorially, making Frost grin.
"Thomas," Margo intervened. "Zachary might have something else already planned for tomorrow." She hoped Frost did not notice the slight blush staining her cheeks. Saying his name out loud made her acknowledge t.
"I have nothing scheduled for the next day," Frost answered promptly, winking. "I am all yours."
"Thomas has his literature lesson for tomorrow, I am not-," Margo said.
"Do not worry, sis. I can do twice the work today, so I can slack off tomorrow. It'll be especially helpful that you're here today," Thomas bargained hopefully. Seeing his bright blue eyes so much like their mother's and his pout was a lethal combination for Margo. She ended up agreeing.
Getting his way, Thomas left them running to the back of their small garden. In the direction of the poor chicken is she weren't mistaken.
Turning to Zachary, she found his eyes following her moves. Nothing new there. However, his sweet behaviour with her younger sibling certainly took Margo by surprise. A treacherous part of her heart was still pumping hard with emotion. To cover this, she sarcastically said: "I suppose tomorrow is yet another day blessed with your presence."
Straightening his long navy coat, Zachary flashed her a dangerous smirk. "Wait until I bless your nights, my sweet." With that outrageous farewell, he left not looking back.
The bastard.
......................................
The night was at its peak when Uncle Ray finally woke up. Still caught by sleep, he raised his head tiredly from the pillow. Branches were deliriously hitting the cracked windows of the medical quarters while the shadows stretched endlessly, imaginary monsters dancing a wicked rite in the corners of the room, the candle at his bedside long ago extinguished. It was a frightening sight.
For Ray it was always hard to distinguish reality from the dreamland that seemed to haunt even his walking hours. It certainly did not help that the wind was whispering an angry tune, so much like in his nightmares. The ravens in his mind were more vocal than ever, warning about a coming demon that was already among them.
A demon who desperately wanted his young friend.
A rapid movement caught his attention. The ravens started fluttering their wings anxiously.
Something shuffled underneath his bed, moving quickly. Just when Ray found the courage to look underneath his bunk, the mysterious noise moved farther away.
He tried to track whatever was hiding in the darkness. Mad snickering was suddenly heard in the other side of the room. Ray whipped his head. His heart was thundering, threatening to jump from his chest and run without him. Just when he thought he identified the source, the moon appeared from the clouds and showed him the truth. An empty rocking chair was moving gently under the moonlight. Nothing was there after all.
Unfortunately, his words were thought too soon. An unnaturally coldness took over the room and rapid breathing was abruptly felt on the left side of his neck. Or was that his? The ravens were silent, revealing nothing. It was the next sentence which condemned him.
"No one will frighten Margo away from my side. Especially not a seer gone mad, old man," a commanding voice spoke in his ear.
When he turned his head, the man earlier in the market greeted him. Or rather, the vampire, as he was now in his infernal demonic form, so much bigger than he remembered. No sooner had Ray opened his mouth to scream than the vampire sank his fangs painfully in the old man's left wrist. The wail remained silent on Ray's lips, his ravens' wail in vain.
When sunlight did come for Uncle Ray, it was not to save him from his fate. But rather to show him what his life had come to now. A small black twisted triangle encircled by a spiral decorated his hand painfully.
The slave mark of the vampire.