The servant, who had tried in vain to keep Harvey under control, is cleaning up the study when Tristan and Ethan enter. With silent horror, he watches Ethan's wardrobe slowly dripping onto the wooden floor. "Can I get you anything else, gentlemen?" He asks politely, nonetheless. Tristan looks at Ethan as well and sighs. "Please bring some dry clothes for Mr. Blackwood here."
Ethan convulsively suppresses the urge to look down on himself and instead tightens his stance. "And please take them to the large bedroom upstairs on the right," Tristan adds with a restrained smile before the servant leaves the room. Tristan somehow enjoys watching Ethan wrestle with his pride. As if his sheer will could hold the water in the fabric of his clothes and stop dripping. He missed that. Not to be completely idle while things are being prepared, he pours them both a whiskey from the decorated glass carafe. The half-open globe where the strong alcohol is kept has just been freshly refilled and the glasses are clinking as Tristan takes them with one hand and the carafe with the other.
He pushes a glass into Ethan's hand before emptying his own in one go and refilling it. Ethan wrinkles his brow. "Since when do you drink whiskey?" he asks.
"Since your boy blows up our council meetings and jeopardizes important contracts."
Ethan waves his glass slowly before he puts it on a small side table next to the couch without drinking it and lights up a half-wet cigarette from within his jacket. "We're still working on the subtleties. Etiquette is not necessarily the most important thing to survive on the streets," he smiles at the thought of Harvey. Tristan is torn as he watches Ethan delightfully let the smoke slide through his nostrils.
"This banquet he spoke of is in two nights? Where?", he wants to know.
Ethan notices the tension behind Tristan's gentle features. "Yes, in St. James Square in the East India Club building. We can't march in there with a hundred men, Tristan, no matter what Harvey said."
Tristan laughs before he pours himself a third glass full of whiskey and empties it again in one go before he puts the glass away, too. "Fate plays tricks on us, my friend," he smiles. "We are invited, not only because we need access, but because we have important business there. Who would have bet on that?"
Ethan is frowning. "We? All I know is that the company where the food is ordered is the same company that was a supplier at the last attack. The mere fact that you're going to be there reinforces my suspicion. There are also rumors of high-ranking members of the human public. I do not believe in coincidences, but without looking around this supplier's warehouse and on-site, I cannot say for sure. Unfortunately, my source at the Limehouse Docks has... died."
"What do you mean with it died?" Tristan wants to know, but Ethan just hums before he continues. "That's all I got. What kind of business could the Vampire Society possibly have going on at a human banquet like this? I certainly have nothing to do with the aristocrats there."
"Not yet," Tristan sighs before pointing to the staircase outside the door. "Let's go upstairs so you can change. I can see from here that you're cold and have goosebumps."
Ethan's attitude stiffens, but he can't think of a good counter-argument. So he finally nods and they switch rooms again. When Tristan makes no effort to leave Ethan alone, Ethan decides to play along and change in front of him. Without taking notes of Tristan's view, he peels out of his wet suit and exposes the wound on his chest.
"It looks almost like the scars on your back," Tristan remarks and has to restrain his fantasy about what had happened. Concern over Ethan's condition and the extent of the poisoning drains all his other thoughts and brings unpleasant memories to the surface. Ethan appears emaciated and undernourished. He used to see him like that all the time. It was usually shortly after a big battle or after a big wound, he was just recovering from. Since they settled in London, however, this had only happened once; namely when he had messed with the leader of the beasts from the woods in a poisoned state.
"It's the same weapon," Ethan rips him out of his train of thought. "This Nuncio wields the whip as if it were his extended arm. I've seen a lot of them, but I've never seen anyone use it so precisely in a fight. Damn Spaniard..." Ethan grumbles as he slips into the dry trousers and turns his back on Tristan. His nakedness is probably more unpleasant than he wants to admit.
He lets his shoulders hang low at the thought of his last defeat. Before he can turn around again he feels Tristan's presence on his back. He allows himself to enjoy the comforting warmth that radiates from his hands as he lets them wander along the side of his arms without actually touching him.
"Do you need blood? Your skin looks like chalk and you're freezing cold," Tristan says softly but Ethan shakes his head gently. He is too tired to rebel against Tristan's advances and actually doesn't want to.
"I have one more question, my moon," Tristan adds as Ethan finally turns around to look him in the eye. "Why couldn't I smell you last time? Even now your smell is as faint as never before."
"So you noticed it after all," Ethan smiles and takes a wide step around Tristan to slip into the simple shirt he got provided. "You wouldn't believe me, but it's important that it is that way."
"If you've figured out how to disguise your smell so perfectly, it would be worth a fortune for me. How will you know, if I believe you if you don't try?"
"The price is too high, Tristan," Ethan finally says seriously.
"Why don't you let me decide that?"
"It's important to me that they can't smell me, but for you, it's no problem. The rain might make the effect fade, but when it rains none of the vampires out there can smell anything anyway."
"Can you?" Tristan asks in amazement and Ethan smiles.
"Who knows?" he says mischievously and Tristan catches himself thinking seriously about the possibility. Since when has he let Ethan lead him on so easily?
"You'd better tell me why you're going to a human banquet," Ethan relentlessly switches back to the matter he wants an answer for.
"I'm going there to sign a contract that puts our society under the protection of the human government," Tristan says with sovereign assurance. "There will come a time when we will need support from other authorities and I will not wait for it to be on their terms." But Tristan is not satisfied with that. "Now that you know that, tell me what the price of your hiding is."
"The price is probably my life someday." Ethan's eyes sparkle. "The weapons in Ned's entourage are not poisoned, but I am. While we're on the subject, why don't you tell me now: What is the price for being protected by the human government?"
Tristan looks at him in horror when he realizes what he just said. "You're doing this to yourself? What the hell are you thinking?" Without thinking about Ethan's question any further, Tristan bites his wrist and holds it out to Ethan. "Here, drink."
Ethan's face distorts with pain and desire as he turns away and takes deep, slow breaths through the hand he presses on his mouth and nose. A deep rumbling can be heard and he leans against the bedpost in front of him. Tristan watches stunned, what physical pain the mere smell and sight of his blood causes Ethan. The same Ethan, who, only a few years ago, fell into a frenzy of rapture when he drank from him.
"Ethan, please, that's not the answer! How did you manage to tend that boy's wound when you react like that to me? When was the last time you drank properly?" As Tristan cleans up his wrist, Ethan calms down a bit, but his eyes remain bright green.
"I have my ways," Ethan says before he picks up his wet jacket and gets a small, flat bottle from the inside pocket.
"What is that?" Tristan wants to know when Ethan turns away and Tristan only hears sniffling noises. "What are you doing?" he asks irritated.
Ethan takes a few more deep breaths and rubs his nose as he turns back to Tristan. "Never do that again," he yaps angrily. "Do you think I'm enjoying this? I'm doing this so I don't endanger the children. So far, this is the only way I've come across. How, do you think, I got to London without Eve recognizing me at any point? Connor will see that I don't lose my mind and will supply me with blood if necessary. It's all covered."
"So that's why that boy thinks he has to protect you. You're mutilating yourself and your instincts. What exactly are you telling these kids? I can't let you train hunters, Ethan. Send them to Eve, and we'll find them jobs here. There are plenty of―"
"Stop it!" Ethan interrupts him. "These children are orphans because the world is cruel. The monsters Harvey's talking about are us, Tristan. And you know what the absurdity of it is? Without them, I'd already been dead. They deserve a chance. Please don't make me tell them the cruel truth that when push comes to shove, they don't stand a chance alone. I can't send them to the orphanage with Cassy. The girls are safe from Ned, but the boys aren't." Ethan's hands clench in fists as the substance that completely numbs his fine sense of smell, unleashes its side effects.
Tristan realizes the amount of control it must cost Ethan to give up the thing he enjoyed most in this life; the rush and the strength. He is surprised that he hasn't already begun to tear the room apart in rage.
"So the rumors are true that Ned spares women," Tristan sums up. "It's very you to sacrifice yourself for these boys, you know that?" he says with an honest smile before he gets close to Ethan again. This time it is Ethan who leans forward to place his forehead on Tristan's chest.
"I..." Ethan starts quietly.
Tristan gently strokes the back of Ethan's head when he notices that Ethan needs a moment longer to express himself. The anger seems to fizzle out but even this fact makes Tristan sad. His lover is indeed broken and has painstakingly put himself back together again. He can now see the result clearly before him.
"I can't smell you... That's probably the worst thing so far," Ethan confesses in a subdued voice.
"But you can feel me, can't you?" Tristan asks quietly and puts the other arm around Ethan as he kisses his temple. "Let me love you, Ethan," he whispers into his ear. Tristan doesn't need to see Ethan's face to feel his cheeks getting warmer as he turns red. It takes a while before Ethan finally sighs and turns to Tristan with his eyes closed and the two meet in a deep kiss.
When they separate again this strange tension is gone. Tristan continues stroking Ethan's cheek as he continues to speak softly. "I love you, Ethan. That's why I have to ask you an important question."
Ethan continues to look expectantly at Tristan as his face becomes more serious. But no question comes out of his mouth. Instead, he furrows his brow and looks at the door. His nostrils seem to move before he finally detaches himself completely from Ethan and goes to open the door with a jerk.
Surprised by the situation, Harvey, who had pressed his ear against the door, stumbles in. "What are you doing?" Tristan asks in an imperative tone. But the boy does not react to him. Harvey looks Ethan straight in the eye. Ethan recognizes the expression and can imagine exactly what he heard out there.
"Harvey..." Ethan says slowly, stretching his hands towards the boy to hold him in place like a shy deer. The deer, however, smells the predator and Harvey turns on his heel and flees.
Ethan curses badly and jumpstarts after him. But even with the stab wound on his shoulder, the boy is still very agile and unfortunately not stupid. Instead of fleeing downstairs, he locks himself in the room he had apparently come from. Ethan can just hear the window before Harvey disappears into the back alley. Frustrated, Ethan slams the door, only to plunge towards the stairs the next moment.
"Ethan! What are you doing? Where are you going?' Tristan calls after him.
"I'll pick up my stuff tomorrow," Ethan replies before he leaves the front door. Tristan stands at the top of the stairs as the other two doors to the bedrooms open.
"What happened?" Eve wants to know, while Cassy just leans bored in the doorway.
Tristan can hardly hide his grudge. "Mr. Blackwood has left us for the day," he just says, slamming his bedroom door behind him. Eve looks at Cassy.
"I suppose, Ethan won't like the fact that I told the boy, that even human ears are very capable of hearing things that are not meant for them," she smiles before she too retreats back into her room.
"Do you need us?" asks Lloyd from Eve's room. "Yes, pack the essentials and fetch a carriage. We have about half an hour before the sun is too strong, we'll change quarters. There are too many people coming and going here."
Back in the room, Tristan examines the mysterious powder that apparently eliminates Ethan of his sense of smell. He can't remember ever seeing or smelling any such drug. Anyway, he now has something that he knows Ethan wants back.
For one day, he wanted it for himself. That human boy took it away with one look. He looked scared. As Tristan is still caught in his thoughts he glances at Ethan's shirt and pants on the floor. He barely hears the knock at the door.
He does not answer, but Miss Lavertu enters anyway. "My Lord, I had a most interesting conversation with this boy. It seems that your fears are unfounded," she begins her report.
"Oh, is that so?" mumbles Tristan as he puts the little bottle in his pocket.
"The boy asked me how I liked the food, as he must have been very happy about the apple I gave him. He has no idea that we don't taste anything or even that we need blood. From the sound of it, he probably thinks that our food source is optional; just as he doesn't know the extent of our natural bodily advantages."
"Thank you, Miss Lavertu. That will be all for today," Tristan finally compliments her out of the room. Miss Lavertu bows her head respectfully before leaving as discreetly as she came.
How could the boy actually know if all he sees of Ethan is his current weakened condition? His instinct tells him that this will not end well unless Ethan regains his full strength.