To Bleed for Him

"Creating chaos just to prove we're alive.
Demolition of a delicate kind.
Midnight confessions keep on blurring the line.
Say you're here on my side,
Want you here on my side.

You keep my heart under the cover of night.
Could be the devil in a clever disguise.
Temptation leads us; it's too late for goodbye.
Say you're here on my side,
Want you here on my side.

Come undone with me."
- Digital Daggers

"I saw your fight," Ripley said softly, so as not to wake Torryn's mother, asleep on the couch beside him, when the girl entered the room. "You have quite a knack for overcoming obstacles in battle, don't you?"

She laughed nervously, sitting down in an empty armchair near the sofa. The room was empty but for the three of them, and she vaguely wondered where the others had gone. If she had to rest, why didn't they? Oh, right. Most of them are vampires. And Skylar did have a possible head injury… "Thanks," she said to her father, crossing one leg over the other and reclining in the chair. Resting. "I'm pretty sure I get that from you."

He chuckled, looking down at where her mother lay next to him, curled into a little ball. "And you get your knack for overcoming life obstacles from your mother, no doubt."

Torryn's smile faded. "If she hadn't been an obstacle to overcome, I might agree with you."

The man's eyes snapped to her, and he looked almost startled. "What do you mean?"

She shrugged and let her gaze wander across the room to the broken window, to the stars that twinkled beyond it. "She hasn't been happy since you left, and she sort of…" She hesitated, unsure if she should've even brought this up to begin with, but it's not like she could change it now. Besides, didn't he deserve to know? "She took it out on me, I guess. We were never close. We were never even near close, actually. I didn't even think she had feelings until I finally told her that I knew what I was." She looked back at him, and he was frowning contemplatively down at her mother. "She cried about you that day. She told me why you left, and she told me that she was never sure that she believed you."

His head snapped up to look at her, and he shook his head vigorously. "I never would've lied about that. I left so that the Lord would never have the chance to take you or to hurt her. Why would I have lied to her?"

She shrugged again. "I've seen what happens in our world. I've been sold as a blood slave, I've been taken advantage of by a dozen vampires, and I've had to kill way more than I'd've liked to just to survive. I know why you had to leave her. Believe me, I do. But I don't think she's ever seen what it's like for us, not first hand. She would never understand."

He looked down at her mother again, at her peaceful expression and her calm, still form, and for a long moment, he didn't speak. She wondered what thoughts were racing behind his furrowed brow, what he must think of her mother now, but when he spoke, he said only, "Perhaps I should get some rest. It's been a…trying day."

She nodded and pushed herself out of the armchair, smiling tiredly. "Yeah, I guess it has been. Sleep well." He nodded, leaning against the arm of the couch, but said nothing else, and with an inward sigh, she crossed the vast room to stand before the broken window, alone.

In the hour since she'd left this spot, the air had grown cooler. The breeze no longer carried a refreshing chill, but instead, a biting coldness that seeped through her thin clothes and made her long for her jacket. She wrapped her arms around herself, suppressing a shudder, and stared out into the inky blackness of the night sky. She wondered what her father was feeling, how her mother was doing; she wondered where Antony was, where Skylar was, where Becca was; she wondered just what that bastard Caleb was doing in Antony's home, in her home, while they were away.

Just as rage began to blossom within her anew, she heard a soft voice behind her. "Hey."

She smiled to herself, not bothering to turn. It was Skylar. She'd know that voice anywhere. "Hey. How's your head?"

He laughed halfheartedly and came to stand beside her. "Nothing that a bit of sleep won't fix. Speaking of that, why aren't you resting up? You said you would."

"I won the fight, which means I get to stay awake as long as I want to, per our pre-battle agreement." She could almost hear him rolling his eyes, and her smile grew into a wry grin. "That was barely a fair fight, anyway. I wouldn't have listened to you even if you'd won."

"Have you no honor?" he said, aghast, and she laughed, finally turning to offer him the full grace of her teasing smirk.

"I believe it is you, sir, who has no honor. I mean, if the way you performed in the ring is anything to go by."

He smiled sheepishly, averting his gaze to the starlit sky beyond the jagged edges of the window. "I was just putting on a show for the crowd — and making a point while I was at it, I guess."

She frowned, guessing at the point he'd been aiming for. "You know that I don't really think that you're weaker than me, right? Or Antony?"

His smile grew hollow. "Both of you seem to imply it a lot, don't you think?"

"You know that's not how I meant what I said about your decision to fight here. You know that's not how I meant any of the things I've ever said to you."

He turned to her, his expression harsh. "So why are you with the vampire, then? Why are you not with me?"

She was momentarily taken aback by his outburst, but she did her best to stammer out a reply. "That's not…You know that…It's not always about who's stronger, you know." Her own expression soured. "And FYI, I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I don't need to pick the strongest dick-bearing creature in the area, because I'm not entering into relationships out of necessity; I'm entering into relationships because I want to."

"So why won't you even give me a chance?" he snapped as he whirled to fully face her, anger narrowing his eyes. "I know you wanted me once. We weren't together for a year because you didn't, and you obviously didn't dump me because you stopped liking me at the end."

"And how, exactly, am I supposed to give you a chance?" she asked, agitated. "Dump Antony just to give you a test drive? Cheat on him to see if I prefer you better in the sack?"

"You already cheated on me with him," he burst out, throwing an arm out in a vague gesture toward Antony, wherever he was. "I don't think it'd really hurt anyone's feelings if you gave him the same treatment."

Her mouth fell open, and she took a step back in shock, unable to do anything but stare up at the boy. "Is that what I am to you, then?" she finally managed to say. "I'm just a cheater, a girl with no boundaries, and all you want to do is bang me real quick — because that's the part of our relationship you really miss, right!"

He buried his face in his hands, suddenly overcome by something less violent than anger. "God, Torryn," he said softly after a moment's pause, his words muffled by his palms. "You know that's not all I miss. You know how much I love you, how much I've always loved you, but…" He lifted his face, raw pain shining in his blue eyes. "When we faced the Lord, he…did things to me, to my mind, while you were…busy."

She frowned, recalling the sweat-soaked man that had replaced Skylar during that hour, but for the moment, he said nothing else, simply turning his agonized gaze to the cityscape below. "What?" she asked softly. "What did he do to you?"

"He made me relive it all," he admitted without looking at her. "He…It…I felt everything, all over again, like it was happening just then, like I could still feel your lips and taste your…" He trailed off with a shudder, letting his eyes drift shut, and she gently rested a hand on his arm. "I'm having a hard time getting it out of my head," he went on, and he met her gaze again, ashamed. "I miss all of our relationship and all of you, but that…that stuff was the most tangible, and now it all feels like it just happened today, fucking hours ago, and I can't even talk about it with you or kiss you or touch you or…or anything. It hurts, Torryn."

"So, basically," she began flatly, her hand falling from his arm, "you want to bang me in the bathroom for nostalgia's sake?"

He sighed, exasperated, and turned to the window once more. "That's not what I mean at all, and you know it."

For a moment, she silently observed him — hunched in on himself, arms wrapped around his middle, looking all around like a junkie who hadn't gotten his fix in quite some time — until, finally, she shifted closer to him and let her arm slide around his waist. "I don't like seeing you in pain," she whispered, leaning her head against his arm once he'd hesitatingly let it fall across her shoulders. "I don't think that'll ever change." Her eyes were on the night beyond the window, but her attention was on his body heat, his heart beating so near her ear, the gentleness of his touch — him, all of him, every single thing about him.

"I feel the same way about you," he murmured, placing a light kiss on the top of her head, and she smiled solemnly to herself. "And I regret, every waking moment of my life, that I drove you away."

"I shouldn't have left," she admitted. "I shouldn't have flocked to the manipulative, sexy vampire's arms the second you antagonized me like you had every right to."

"So you regret it, then?" he asked, and she turned her head to find him looking solemnly, hopefully, down at her. "You really regret it?"

She shrugged and averted her gaze. "Yes and no. I could never say that I regret having Antony in my life like this, but I can't say that I didn't like having you in it, either."

"You didn't answer my question at all," he sighed.

She nodded. "Yep."

Someone suddenly cleared their throat behind them, loudly, and the pair pulled apart and spun simultaneously, both wearing the wide eyes of the guilty. It was only Becca, however, one hand on her cocked hip and the other holding a ball of white cloth. "Well, well, well," she said, smirking. "I had a feeling the two of you would be getting cozy together up here, and would you look at that, I'm right."

Skylar opened his mouth to make some excuse, but the woman held up a single finger to shush him. "Don't worry about it. Your secret's safe with me. Just get your little hiney out of here so I can take care of a few things with your girlfriend." Torryn was thoroughly confused by this, but Skylar barely offered her a smile before ducking out of the room as if he'd just been acquitted of some great crime.

Becca stepped closer to her, smiling gently. "I brought these for you," she said, holding out the wad of cloth, which turned out to be a set of simple pajamas. "I thought you might want to take a shower and slip into something cleaner and more comfortable before you got around to sleeping."

Torryn took the clothes and gawked at the vampire in amazement, unsure of what to say. "I, uh, thank you, Becca."

She shrugged, languidly stretching her arms up and over her head, her back cracking as she arched it. "Don't mention it. I just had some spare clothes here for long nights, and I thought you could use them. I also thought it would be nice for someone to tell your gross ass that there's a decent bathroom up here," she added teasingly.

Torryn laughed lightly. "Yeah, I really wish someone would've mentioned that sooner." She paused, eyeing Becca curiously, and the girl paused in her stretching, eyeing Torryn in return.

"Uh, what is it?"

"You have clothes here?" Torryn said in some confusion. "Does that mean that you fight here, too?"

This remark seemed to disconcert the vampire, and she looked past Torryn, out the window, as she nodded her answer. "Well, yeah. I've been one of the top-ranked undead vampires around here for a long time now. Did you not…Have you never seen me here?"

Torryn's eyes widened just a hair. "You're an undead?"

Becca shifted uncomfortably, still looking right past the girl. "Uh, yeah. I…I thought you knew that, too."

"But you're so…alive," Torryn all but whispered, staring at the vampire in awe.

Becca moved around the girl to stand at the window, shrugging as she went. "If you think all undead vampires are like Caesar or Antony's dearest mummy, you're in for a surprise. Of course, if you think they're all like me, you're in for an even bigger one."

"I…don't understand." Didn't all vampires lose their emotions with undeath? Didn't they become crazed or just husks of their former selves?

As if reading her mind, Becca shook her head and said, "Every vampire is different in regard to their emotional range, intensity, and sense of self. Generally, they follow what you've seen so far, yes — cold or insane or only just barely in touch with their feelings. It's not super uncommon for them to retain a lot of themselves, though, especially when the vampy in question still has a lot of love in life after undeath." Finally, she dared to look back at Torryn, who was watching and listening to her with rapt attention, and she quickly turned away again. "Of course, the ones who are turned and not born turn out psychotic as a general rule, but there are so few of those around, anyway, that there's really no reason to consider them at all." She turned again, suddenly, this time to fully face the girl with her brow furrowed, and asked, "Why am I the one telling you about this? Why hasn't your bloodsucking boytoy told you all of this yet?"

Torryn felt her cheeks warming. "I'm sorry. You don't have to tell me anything else, if you don't want to. I was just curious, and Antony's not particularly eager to give me vampire lessons unless they end in sex."

Becca laughed heartily. "Glad to hear it! Believe me, if I were into chicks, I'd be all over you, too," she teased, tossing the girl a wink, then started past her toward the exit. "The bathroom is in there," she said, pointing to a simple wooden door set into the wall to her left. "Don't forget to lock the door."

"Hey, wait," Torryn rushed to say, taking a few quick steps forward as if to catch up to the swiftly striding vampire, but Becca stopped and looked back at her before she had to go very far.

"Yeah?"

"I, uh…I'm sorry I've never noticed you around here," she stammered pathetically, not knowing quite why she'd even spoken at all. "I just…I never really pay attention to the other participants, and I'd never really taken you for the fighting type."

Becca grinned. "Don't worry about it, baby doll. Just keep in mind that not all of us are in-your-face Amazon warriors like yourself, okay? Some of us are more subtle and prefer the gentler pursuits of manipulating people into causing their own demise." With another wink, she strode out of the room, seeming even more pleasant than she had when she'd entered, if that was even possible.

After making sure that her parents were asleep on the couch and that she was sufficiently alone, Torryn made her way into the bathroom with her borrowed clothes. She felt incredibly awkward about Becca's sudden kindness, but she wasn't about to turn down a shower and a fresh set of clothes, not after the day she'd had.

-?-

Becca shot Skylar a teasing grin as she walked past his post beside the door, but neither of them said a word, and she soon vanished down the worryingly creaky metal stairs. He remained where he was, leaning casually against the wall, as he listened to Torryn's steps crossing the room at his back. A door shut with a quiet snick, and he let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

God, what had he been thinking?

Pouring his heart out to his ex — within earshot of her parents, even. Whining about what came off as a sad case of blue balls and not the real agony he felt in regard to her absence. Trying to get her to cheat on her shiny new boyfriend because hey, she'd done it before, right! Why not again!

Yeah, that'll win her right back, he snarled in his head, just barely suppressing the urge to punch himself in the face. Next time, why not just beat her boyfriend up to get him right out of the way? Maybe just walk up and start making out with her? Women dig that caveman thing.

"Where's Torryn?" A sudden voice brought his head up from its slump, and his lips tightened into a thin line when he met Antony's eerily empty gaze.

"Taking a shower," Skylar answered flatly.

The vampire rocked to a stop a little too close to him, and Skylar wondered if this was his attempt at intimidation. "I take it Becca finally mentioned the bathroom to her?"

Skylar's nose wrinkled, overwhelmed by the coppery stench that lingered on Antony's breath. "And why the fuck weren't you around to tell her yourself?"

Antony's expression never changed. "I was taking care of some business. Is that a problem?"

"If your business involves drinking from other women after what it did to her the first time," Skylar said, pushing himself away from the wall to stand even closer to the vampire, "then yes, I'd say that's a Goddamn problem."

Antony rolled his eyes. "It's really none of your business, but we've already come to an agreement. She understands that one woman isn't enough for me." He suddenly dropped his gaze and shifted back a step, uncomfortable. "That's, uh, sort of what I wanted to talk to you about, actually."

Skylar eyed him suspiciously, crossing his arms over his chest. "What the hell do you mean by that?"

"I had a rather…enlightening conversation with Becca a few minutes ago," Antony said, his eyes drifting past Skylar in search of something less judgmental through the wide open doorway. "She pointed out something that I hadn't really thought of before. You know, something most people never think of…ever." He met the human's eyes boldly now, finally blurting, "Have you ever heard of polyamory?"

-?-

Antony watched as Skylar's eyes grew to the size of golf balls. "You mean the…the thing where you date multiple people at once?"

"Ah, yeah," Antony answered, narrowly resisting the desire to avert his gaze once again. As much as he hated this, he had to do it. He had to at least mention the possibility of coexisting with his rival. "The more I think about it, the more it seems to make sense…in a way, you know? It's unfair for me to be free to get what I need elsewhere while she's not. And it's…it's…" He gritted his teeth against the pure agony of this part, though he knew it to be true, no matter how hard he tried to disprove it. "It's really shitty of me to have pretty much stolen your girlfriend and the entirety of her normal fucking life without giving either of you the opportunity to reclaim any of it."

Skylar gawked at Antony in silence for almost an entire minute, unable to close his mouth or force the utter confusion from his face, until he finally said, dumbfounded, "You mean…You're implying that…You want to…to share her?"

"Er, uh, yeah," Antony stammered in response. "I guess that's what I'm suggesting."

"That's…fucking nuts, dude!" Skylar burst out, his shock turning quickly to anger. "You're damn right that you don't have a right to go tramping about with other girls while she sits alone in her room wondering what the hell you're out there doing without her, and you're even more right that it was super fucking shitty of you to steal my Goddamn girlfriend from me and from herself, but this…" He trailed off, shaking his head vigorously. "You know that would never work. Not with your possessiveness in the equation, and certainly not…" He hesitated, shame flickering across his face. "Not with my jealousy. If you want to make things right, let her go. Don't try to put a Band-Aid on all your own fuck-ups and pretend it's for her sake."

Antony nodded to himself, pensive and entirely unoffended, though his skin hadn't stopped crawling since he'd begun to consider the topic. There was nothing the human could say to him that he hadn't already thought — and likely agreed with — himself. "But," he began after a pause, "what if it was what she wanted? If it would make her happy, would you at least consider it?"

"Why?" Skylar asked, frowning uneasily. "Did she say something to you?"

"No. I've never brought this up with her, but I think, you know, maybe this would be exactly what she wanted."

Skylar pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger and squeezed his eyes shut. "She did suggest a threesome the other day," he said, his half-assed attempt at a joke, and sighed. "I can see why this would appeal to her and all, but I…" He opened his eyes and met Antony's gaze, something like regret settling into his furrowed brow. "I don't think it's in my nature or yours to share. I already can't stand thinking about you all over her, and I don't think it would make me feel any better to get the chance to be all over her, too."

Frustration welled in Antony suddenly, and a low growl of annoyance left his throat without his permission. "I just want her to be happy. Why is that so hard?"

Skylar shrugged. "I'll…try to think about it more, I guess," he said softly, then hurried past Antony down the stairs.

Left alone in the hallway, the vampire sighed to himself, but not even the pain that came with the forced breath could distract him from the myriad of emotions that twisted his insides. Fresh irritation mixed with the disgust that had yet to leave him, and he shuddered as he imagined it again, what had been plaguing his mind since Becca had made her suggestion — Skylar and Torryn, together, intimate as they were in the ring. Sweating together, grinding together, moaning and groaning and…

Another involuntary growl rumbled through his chest, and he was across the room and pushing the bathroom door open before he even quite knew what he was doing. Steam washed over him in the small white space, and he swore he could smell her in it, swore he could see her form beyond the dark shower curtain across from him.

"Who's there?" she called hesitantly, but he didn't hazard an answer, throwing the door shut behind him. He tore the curtain aside, caught her wrist, and pressed his lips to hers before she'd even finished her surprised gasp.

Water cascaded over him as he guided her over the edge of the tub. He could almost feel the confusion in her kiss, but she didn't stop him, didn't flinch. She only fell into his arms once her feet were solidly on the tile floor, and he held her so tightly that he thought she might burst — but still, she didn't say a thing.

"I love you, Torryn," he murmured when their kiss had ended, though he didn't relinquish his hold of her.

She smiled gently up at him, her arms wrapping around his waist with surprising tightness. "I'm really glad I forgot to lock the door this time." She leaned up to eagerly resume the kiss, and he didn't have the will to stop her.

As her hands left his back and began to work at his fly, he let his fingers travel slowly down her slick form, savoring every inch of her — his, all his, and his alone. His hands drifted down her back, her ass, up and over the gentle curves of her hips. His thumb brushed a hard, raised spot as it passed over her stomach, and his hands paused in their journey, his entire body going rigid.

She'd stabbed herself today. She'd fought for her life, for his, for Skylar's, for her father's. She was covered in battle scars, hundreds more like this, some visible and others not.

His fingers returned to her back, even as he felt his jeans beginning to drop around his thighs. He found another bump, barely noticeable, in the center of one of the back dimples he so fondly remembered. Stabbed, by a vampire, fighting half a coven alone.

His lips left hers to trail kisses, featherlight, down her chin, along her jaw, down her throat. He knew those tiny holes, those jagged tears. How many vampires had caused this one? Himself, his father, the Lord…and more, the ones he only vaguely knew of, when his father had taken her from him and sold her to the highest bidder, when he'd turned from her for a second too long, when she'd been left to fend for herself time and time again.

He only grew more tense when her head tipped obligingly to the side, baring the whole of her throat to him as if that's all she thought he wanted from her, and his lips found hers again, roughly, passionately, a hand leaving her hip to cup her cheek and ease her head upright. She met his eagerness in kind, lips moving and melding with his, and her hand found him through his boxers, guided him out into the still-steamy air, and though he would never cease to remember the scars that marred her body, he gave in to the desire that flooded him once again.

Hastily, he kicked off his shoes and forced his pants the rest of the way off with a shake of either leg, then stepped over the resulting pile with his hands now firmly on her hips. She obediently followed his silent direction, stepping back and back until her ass found the edge of the sink and his hands found the back of her thighs. He lifted her onto the counter, spreading her legs and stepping between them, their kiss never ceasing.

He could already smell her — wet, eager, ready, solely for him. He pressed his body to hers, grinding against her but never allowing himself entry, and he could feel her heart hammering in her chest, her breath growing short, her warm body trembling with anticipation. She was alive, thriving, and a growl rolled through his chest as he refused to let despair take hold.

One hand tangled in her damp hair, drawing her deeper into his kiss, and the other dropped to guide himself carefully into her. Her entire being gave an overwhelming shudder, and she leaned away to draw him in deep, her back arching, but he followed her back, refusing to let her lips leave his. Eager, her hands found his upper arms, her nails digging into his flesh to pull another low growl from him, and he thrust himself in impossibly deep, savoring the warmth, the wetness, the welcome, before he began to move his hips in a fervent rhythm.

Her head fell back as he loosened his hold on her hair, and the moan that rose from her throat rocked him to his very core. He bent his face to her neck and grunted lowly, his thrusts growing harder, faster, as he gently kissed her throat, nipped at it, but never entered, his focus far from the pulse that thrummed violently beneath his teeth.

Her hands left his arms to rest on the counter behind her as she fell further back, and he reached deeper within her, eliciting such a frenzied cry from her that a shiver of ecstasy rolled down his spine. He bowed his head lower, kissing down her collar bone, her chest, her breast. Her heartbeat raced against his lips as he passed, and his tongue lashed out to tease her nipple, then his teeth, a bite that for once sought no blood. She cried out again, her chest jerking with too-rapid breaths, her legs trembling violently around his waist.

She was everywhere now — her smell, her touch, her voice, her very being. He tumbled headlong into it, into everything her body offered, taking in her wide open mouth and eyes as the two of them came together, she with a scream and he with a groan. They rested there for a moment, relishing it all — he felt her throbbing around him, felt raw pleasure still coursing through every inch of his body; he was blind to all but her blissful eyes and quivering limbs.

She fell back on the counter, panting heavily, her heartbeat a heavy throbbing in his ears, and leaned against the wall. Still inside of her, he let himself fall gently to rest upon her with his head high on her sweaty chest. She wrapped an arm around his neck and held him to her, and it took him only a moment to realize that she was crying.

He looked up to meet her smiling, tear-filled eyes, and she said feelingly, "I love you, Antony Warren."

"Torryn," was all he could manage, his reason washed away in a flood of joyful shock, and taking her face in his hands, he kissed her again, passionately, meaningfully.

He'd finally won her. Completely.