To Bleed for Him

"I'm convinced that you fucked me real good.
You did, you did,
But I won't let her go.
I got my reasons, and I'm not leavin',
So I wait on you to die.

Please take this time for me to be unforgiven.
I give my life to you.
I lay my life on the line for you,
For you, for you, for you!"
- Limp Bizkit (featuring Jonathan Davis)

Torryn couldn't decide whether to be overjoyed or to start kicking herself as she left the bathroom, dressed in Becca's borrowed pajamas. That moment she'd shared with Antony — crying again, telling him she loved him…What the hell had gotten into her? What the hell had gotten into him? That was like nothing they'd ever shared before. No blood, no carnal desire, no outright violence…It wasn't Antony. Something had bothered him during the act, and something had been bothering him before it.

Not that she hadn't enjoyed it, of course. She felt bad thinking it, but it reminded her of some of the times she'd spent with Skylar — sweet, gentle, legitimately emotional. She missed those times. She missed him.

And she was completely missing the point now, she realized, as she sat down in the armchair near the couch where her parents still slept — and thank God for that, because she didn't want to have to explain to her mother just why she'd been screaming in there.

Oh, God damn it, she grumbled internally, burying her face in her hands. Here I go again, getting way off track.

Should she be happy about it, or should she kick herself? Inquiring minds wanted to know.

The bathroom door creaked open and shut once more, and she lifted her head to watch Antony, smiling, walk toward her. "Hey," he said quietly, eyes flicking momentarily to her parents as he stopped beside her chair. "I have a few things to take care of before it gets too late. Will you be okay here by yourself?"

She nodded and just barely kept herself from asking him just what it was he needed to do, jealousy already heavy on her mind. She'd tasted the blood on his tongue during their little bathroom scene. She knew he'd been well sated before coming to her. What else did he need to do? Oh, right. Entire nonhuman battleground to run. "I'll be fine. Besides, I'm sure Skylar will be back soon." At least, she hoped he would be. He wouldn't go home without telling her, would he? He wouldn't abandon them to fight alone tomorrow.

For a split second, she thought she saw his expression darken, but he was soon all smiles once more. "Yeah, you're right." He leaned down to give her a gentle kiss, then started toward the door. "I'll come check on you when I can. Please, get some sleep."

"Yes, sir," she said with a playful salute at his back, and he chuckled as he passed through the door and out of sight.

Alone again, trapped in silence but for the quiet, even breaths of her parents, she sighed and reclined in the chair, her eyes focused on some little nothing in the distance. She wasn't being fair to either of the men, was she? Still in love with Skylar, now openly in love with Antony…

Ugh! Was she really that easy, boundary-less girl Skylar had implied her to be? Both of them assured her that they didn't think of her that way, but if even she was beginning to think it, how likely could it really be that they didn't at least have their doubts?

And why do I even have to choose, anyway? she thought bitterly, but she almost immediately relented. Because it's not fair to them. Right. I know that. Can't have your cake and eat it, too. Especially not when "cake" means "irresistible men." She smiled to herself. That would be a nice threesome, though…

"Um, why are you smiling like that?" came Skylar's perplexed voice, and she jumped as her eyes focused on his face.

"Weird thoughts," she rushed to say. "You wouldn't want to know."

He grimaced. "I believe you."

A rustle of plastic led her eyes downward, and she cocked an eyebrow at the bag that dangled at his side. "Whatcha got there?"

He grinned and held the bag up so that she could see the words "Taco Bell" printed on the side. "I thought you might be hungry, so I ran down the street and got us some tacos."

She couldn't help smiling. "Really? For me?"

"Well, mostly for me, but you can have some, too," he teased. "Wanna eat this in the hallway so we don't wake your parents up?" She nodded, and he led the way out the door and to the top of the stairwell, where he sat down and began rustling through the bag without another word.

"So," she started slowly, taking her seat and trying to come up with something to say even as she spoke, "when did you get your car fixed?"

She took a taco when he offered it to her, and he smiled. "You mean after that first vampire attack?" She nodded again, and he shrugged, beginning to unwrap his own taco. "One of my dad's friends is a mechanic, and he was nice enough to see me the morning after. It took less time than I thought. There wasn't too much damage."

"That's good," she said, spreading her wrapper over her lap and picking up the taco.

They were silent for a moment, and it wasn't until he'd finished his first taco and taken a bite of his second that he said, "You should set an alarm on Antony's phone reminding him to feed you sometime. I don't think he even remembers that people need to eat to survive."

She laughed lightly. "It doesn't matter if he does or not. I'm an adult, and I'm pretty sure I can feed myself."

He smiled to himself, but handed her another taco without a word. He finished his second one, his third one, then his fourth, and he turned to her, meeting her eyes thoughtfully. "He…said something earlier, that bloodsucker of yours."

She frowned, already afraid of where this was going. Had Antony been tearing Skylar down again, just for being human? Had they had another fight over who better deserved to be her lord and master? "Yeah? What did he say?"

Skylar lowered his eyes to his half-eaten fifth taco, shifting awkwardly on the step. "He, uh, he suggested…that we…that you, uh, might like to try…" He trailed off and began to shake his head violently. "You know what? Never mind. There's really no need to bring it up now."

She cocked an eyebrow at him. "Well, now I'm curious. You have to tell me."

"Or what?" he asked, regaining his composure enough to smirk.

"Or I'll kick your ass here just like I did in the ring," she said with a smirk of her own.

"For someone who cries so much," he teased, "you sure do threaten people a lot."

She laughed. "No matter how much I cry, I'll always be tougher than you. I might look weak because of it, but we both know I'm not."

He shook his head, smiling. "I'd like to think that we tie, but whatever helps you sleep at night, sweetcheeks." He resumed eating, and she did the same, and they only paused when he softly said, "And crying doesn't make you look weak. It just makes you look even stronger." She smiled to herself, to her taco, but had nothing more to say.

"So," she started again after a long moment had passed, "are you going to tell me what he said now, or am I really going to have to hurt you?" He handed her another taco but refused to meet her gaze, and she didn't look away from him as she began to unwrap it. "Is it really that bad?"

He turned from her under the pretense of crumpling up his used wrappers and stuffing them into the half-empty bag. "He said that you might want to consider polyamory," he answered quietly, pulling the few remaining tacos out of the bag and noisily squishing the empty wrappers down.

"What?" Her brow furrowed. "You mean, like…being with both of you?"

"Uh, yeah," he said, his eyes steady on a freshly unwrapped taco. "He thought you might like the idea."

"It's…something to think about, I guess," she said evasively, though she'd already thought about it enough to know that she didn't just like the idea. She loved it like she loved those stupid, irresistible boys. "I mean, it's different. It's —"

"Perfect for you, isn't it?" he finished for her, finally facing her with a sad smile.

She suddenly found her own taco infinitely interesting, and she observed it as she lifted it from the wrapper on her lap. "No, not at all," she lied, then took a bite. "I mean, a threesome would be fantastic and all, but polyamory? Nah, too complicated for me."

He sighed. "I'm glad. You know I would do just about anything for you, but I think that'd be a hellacious struggle for all involved."

She laughed. "Very true." And it wouldn't be fair to either of them, she thought sadly. They're possessive creatures by nature. They deserve more than to have to share a woman against their will.

They were quiet again for a long moment, and when she looked up, finished with her taco, she found that he'd eaten the last two and was shoving the wrappers in the bag. "Did he say anything else?" she asked as she handed him her own trash and tried to count the crumpled wrappers already in the bag.

Seven. That asshole had eaten seven tacos, and she'd only gotten three. Pig.

He shrugged, and she didn't realize that she was glaring at him until he arched an eyebrow at her. "No," he said, and she smoothed her expression. "He just…threw that out there and left."

She frowned. "Why didn't he mention it to me, too?"

Another shrug. "I'm not sure if he even wanted you to know that he was thinking about it. I just really needed to know whether you were interested or not." His eyes were on the door at the bottom of the stairs, unfocused. "It's been bugging me since he mentioned it, and I thought talking to you about it would help."

So that's what was bothering Antony earlier. "And did it help?"

He smiled halfheartedly and shrugged again. "Dunno yet." He stood, trash in hand, and she followed his lead. "Now, I think you need to be getting to bed. You have to be tired by now."

"Yeah, I was just planning to lay down when you found me. Are you going to sleep, too?"

"Sure. I've been eyeing that couch by the window since we got here. Looks comfy." He smiled and started through the door, tossing the bag into the big metal trashcan as he passed, and she followed.

"Night, then," she said as he went to the couch.

"Yeah," he said, flopping down. "Night."

She awkwardly sank into her armchair, and the sleep of the unknowingly exhausted soon overtook her, in spite of the fact that she could keenly sense his tauntingly close presence all the while. We used to sleep together, you know…

-?-

Torryn tugged at the hem of her blood-stained shirt, trying to get it to lie flat even with all of its tears and hardened dark spots. Her dirty jeans were no more comfortable or cooperative, and she was having a hard time focusing on Antony as he paced back and forth in front of the gathered group, safe from the late afternoon light only because of the curtains her father had so thoughtfully put up for him over the windows. The thought of it, of her father so naturally bowing to the will of the resident powerful vampire without even being asked, didn't set her any more at ease, and with a great exertion of her will, she finally forced herself to watch Antony.

"There was nothing I could say, do, or offer that would get any of them to listen to me," he went on grimly, his bright eyes trailing contemplatively along the floor. "I don't know how many of them are honestly set against me or how many are only victims of their own cowardice, selfishness, or blatant unfeeling nature, but I can state with absolute certainly that both numbers are much higher than I'd like." He stopped pacing and faced them squarely, and she imagined what he would look like if it were the sun at his back and not the navy-blue threads of the curtains, though the implications of the thought stopped her short. Instead, she focused on his set jaw, his tight cheeks, his hard eyes, and wished only that he had no reason to be so unhappy. "We're on our own against Caleb and his band of traitorous scumbags, and I have a feeling that, even if we take them down tonight, we're going to be fighting far into the future — at least, I will." His eyes rested on her, full of meaning, and she felt her cheeks warm even as she pursed her lips. You won't be doing it alone, jackass, she thought, but she knew better than to interrupt the flow of his little speech.

His eyes left her, drifting over the tiny band of warriors, and he drew himself to his full height. "Now, the plan for tonight is pretty obvious, I think: kill 'em all. Fight fast and fight hard, but withdraw the second you feel that you're in danger." Skylar let out a snort of laughter, but Antony ignored him. "No one on our side is going to die tonight. Honestly, I'm hoping to avoid anyone even getting seriously injured in this particular battle." Skylar snorted again, and Antony pointedly met Torryn's eyes. "You seem to have a really hard time with this, Torryn, so listen carefully. When shit starts to go downhill, get out. Don't be a hero. Don't fight like you've got a Goddamn vendetta. If we don't win this fight, it won't be a big deal."

"If we don't win this fight," Ripley started with little feeling, "you'll be dead."

The gravity, the sheer truth, of that single sentence sent a shiver racing down Torryn's spine, but Antony only nodded. "And that won't be the end of the world. If I fall to Caleb, it just proves that I have no right to be in power, and at this point, death would be preferable to the shunning I would receive if I escaped as the loser." He crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at nothing. "The final battle hasn't even happened yet, and I've already been getting shit on all night by my underlings. But the point is," he said more strongly, shaking himself, "if I fall, move on. To those of you who have your things at the house, I apologize, but you're going to have to leave it all. Becca has access to the Warren family bank account, however, so it should be no problem for you to replace what you've lost."

Torryn turned to the vampire smiling proudly next to her, her mouth hanging open in unadulterated shock. She had access to every last cent of Antony's money while Torryn herself didn't even know what bank he used? It shouldn't have mattered to her. It didn't, really. But it did.

Skylar snorted again, and she turned to find him smirking at her knowingly. She looked back to Antony in a hurry, unable to shake the scowl from her face, and the vampire went on without even pausing to take in her discomfort.

"Now, specific game plan. I'll go in first and make a last ditch effort to convince Caleb to get the hell out of my way. When that fails, on my signal, the rest of you will follow me in — Torryn, Becca, and Skylar."

"And me, of course," Torryn's father said, and Antony eyed him in confusion.

"You don't owe me anything."

"To be fair, dude, none of us 'owe you anything,'" Skylar said. "We're all here out of the goodness of our hearts — and for the thrill of the fight, of course."

"Right," Antony said without argument, nodding. "Thank you all for being willing to do this. If you want to join us, Ripley, you're more than welcome." The man nodded and settled into his place, content. "Anyway, beyond that, I really don't have much of a plan," Antony continued with a shrug that didn't instill much confidence in Torryn. "I don't know how many vampires he has. I don't know who's among them. I don't know what other dirty tricks he's got up his sleeve. All I know is that we need to take him out — and I think I'd better be the one to do it."

"Obviously," Skylar drawled. "He's your arch-nemesis. I don't want to fight your battle."

Antony met Torryn's gaze again. "I'm just pointing it out for a certain girl who thinks it's her duty to kill everything that's ever crossed any of us ever."

Already aggravated by her jealousy of Becca, Torryn's mood could only grow darker. "Will you stop picking on me?" she snapped. "I get it. I'm stupid, and I'm a liability in battle. You don't have to keep pointing it out."

"Honestly," her mother piped up for the first time today, "I think you need to back the hell off of her and let her do her thing. I've seen her fight. I've seen her save her own ass and mine. I've seen her kill for that. I don't think she needs you to babysit her, bloodsucker. If anything, she should be the one babysitting you." The ire left Torryn as she turned to her mother, mouth agape. She'd never praised her like that before…

Antony grunted, his eyes narrowing. "I know she can handle herself. Believe me, I, of all people, know that. But I stumbled across a bit of information last night that nearly made me take her out of the battle altogether, so I most certainly don't want her — or any of you, for that matter — facing Caleb head-on."

"And what is this mysterious information?" Skylar asked dryly. "What's so important that you didn't even bother to bring it up until now?"

"Caleb, it seems, has recently become an undead."

"The fuck?" Becca blurted, her eyes the size of golf balls. "When did this happen?"

"Yesterday," Antony said, and Torryn could nearly hear his teeth grinding together as his jaw worked. "Apparently, he'd been planning it for a while, if my sources aren't all lying assholes. He died on purpose, just to take my position and unite my coven under him."

Torryn had her foot through the coffee table behind her before she'd even realized that she'd moved, its legs lying broken to either side and the splintered wood at the center tugging at the leg of her pants as she jerked her foot back out. "I'm so incredibly, utterly, wholly fucking tired of undead vampires," she growled as she sent the broken table scraping across the floor with a rough kick. She was storming across the room before it had even come to a stop, and an awkward silence followed her as she thundered down the stairs.

"Well, looks like it's time to go," Antony said with laughter to his voice, and footsteps soon followed her.

She was halfway across the nearly empty warehouse by the time he caught up to her, catching her wrist and pulling her to a stop. The others swept past them, breaking into the growing darkness of the world beyond these walls, and he looked earnestly down at her, she crossly up at him. "He's fresh," were the first words out of his mouth, spoken gently, assuringly. "Even if you do end up taking him on yourself, he won't be anything like my fa— like Caesar, or like the Lord. He'll be strong, yes. They always are. But overcoming him won't be a bloodbath like all the other ones."

"Then why do you sound so sure that you're going to die fighting him?" she said sharply.

The ghost of a smile touched his lips, almost mocking in its tenderness, and taking her hands in his, he moved closer. "I'm not going to die here," he murmured, "and neither are you, or Skylar, or anyone else. And do you know why?" She shook her head dumbly, fear of what was to come making their odds seem too impossible to fathom the answer. "Because we have you," he whispered, squeezing her hands. "Our unstoppable force."

"If you believed that," she said flatly, though most of her anger had cooled beneath his loving touch, "you wouldn't have even considered forcing me out of the fight."

"I worry about you, Torryn. I know you're strong. I know you're tough. I know you've picked up enough skills along the way to give you a good shot at kicking even my ass. I've seen what you can do, time and time again, but it's…hard to get over it, you know?" His hands left hers to slip beneath her shirt, and she tensed as he prodded first the fading scar from where she'd been stabbed by the living vampire, Clara, then the tender remains of where she'd stabbed herself — to save him. "You keep getting hurt, over and over." His fingertips were trailing down her cheek now, her jaw, the sides of her eternally damaged neck. "You keep almost dying. And I don't want that to happen again. Ever again."

He embraced her suddenly, pulling her into a tight hug and a gentle kiss. His fingertips pressed into her back, keeping her close, and she eagerly returned the kiss, even the dying embers of her indignation fully extinguished now.

"You can't get hurt, either," she said anxiously when their kiss ended. "You don't get to die again."

He beamed. "Never, Torryn. I'll never leave you." She leaned up, and their lips met again, greedily.

"Cool," came Skylar's sarcastic voice, and the pair separated instantly. "So no one's leaving anyone, everyone's going to live, yada, yada, yada. Can we go now? We have a final showdown to get to, in case you've both forgotten."

Torryn's cheeks warmed, and they only grew hotter when she realized how close Skylar was standing, only feet away. With a simple step, he would be close enough to touch her. They both would be.

No, Torryn, she scolded herself, extracting herself from Antony's welcoming arms and taking a step back, away from both of the men. Big battle coming up. No time for threesomes — or for really nice three-way relationships.

"You're like a professional moment-ruiner," Antony sighed, but Skylar only shrugged.

"We have shit to do. Let's go do it." With that, the human turned and passed into the dimly lit parking lot once more, and she began to follow him.

"Hey," Antony said softly, bringing her to a stop. She faced him, and the hilt of a knife smacked against her instinctively raised palm, and her fingers closed around it. Awestruck, she studied it. No blood, no guts, no grime. It was pristine, the silver of the blade glinting dangerously in the low light. Confidence swelled within her. "We're going to be okay, all right? We're going to win this."

"You're damn right we are." Her smirk almost perfectly reflected his trademark as she added, "But only because you have me. I'm glad you've come to terms with that." He chuckled, and she led the way through the door, one hand holding his and the other with a death grip on her knife — her two sources of strength, her two reminders of all that she'd been through. Her eyes landed on Skylar, leaning against his car, and her heart leapt.

Three sources of strength.

And two of them…

Two of them, she would fight to the death for. Forever.