Prophet
Raphael
Balor doesn't know what to do with the vampire. Valentine is always eying him, thoughts pressing against Balor's mind. These thoughts aren't easy to get used to, either, bloody and hungry, but organized. Cunning. There's kindness when he looks towards Balor's snakes, which makes it difficult not to like him.
Valentine sprawls wherever he sits, boneless. He grins slowly and hot, eyes heavy-lidded.
“Where are you from?” Balor asks eventually, curious.
“Alabama. A long, long time ago,” he drawls, letting a trace of a Southern accent drip into his voice. “Before you ask, I was a slave. Ripped my master's throat out when I turned. Fought in the war.”
“Oh. Uh. Cool.”
“You're awkward. It's kinda cute.” Balor flushes and looks away, almost relieved when the blankness overcomes Valentine. He reaches out to the vampire's mind anyway, tries to push the fog aside. It's tangled and ugly and grasping, unwilling to let go.
Almost alive. Balor manages to unfog a bit of Valentine's brain, making the vampire shudder and gasp. “Stop,” he hisses, fangs out. He doesn't seem to know what he's doing. Balor waits for the fog to fade, for the shaking to stop.
Valentine collapses into him, mouth open and wet and dangerous against his neck. Balor tries to ignore it, even when the vampire's teeth brush his skin. They lay together, quiet.
Sadie wakes up gasping. She sees red and snarling and fangs. For a moment she smells blood, thick and heavy. Her heart pounds rapidly in her chest.
“Death?” she calls, sitting up. She can hear heavy breathing fairly close. “Death?” she says again, reaching out. She touches familiar cracked skin and smiles. “There you are.” When he doesn't answer, she frowns. “Is everything alright?”
“No.”
“Did I do something wrong?” He's quick to take her hands in his, skin dry and cool.
“You did nothing wrong. We're fleeing, Sadie. That boy of yours will hide us.
“Balor? Fleeing? Why?” she asks in a rush.
“Raphael is taking you away from me.”
“But I...I don't even know him.”
“He wants the prophet in his own hands, to use. To hurt. He's gathered enough angels to overpower Gabriel, who would have you remain here. God doesn't care to stop them.” Sadie lets Death help her up, folds her arm over his. “Balor is hidden from everything because of who he is. Your connection to him, however, makes him easy for us to find. I will not you be taken. I will flee first, then fight. Let us see what happens to an angel touched by Death,” he growls, sounding as inescapable as he is for the first time.
Sadie thinks of her bloody dreams and grips him tighter.
Valentine sprawls wherever he sits, boneless. He grins slowly and hot, eyes heavy-lidded.
“Where are you from?” Balor asks eventually, curious.
“Alabama. A long, long time ago,” he drawls, letting a trace of a Southern accent drip into his voice. “Before you ask, I was a slave. Ripped my master's throat out when I turned. Fought in the war.”
“Oh. Uh. Cool.”
“You're awkward. It's kinda cute.” Balor flushes and looks away, almost relieved when the blankness overcomes Valentine. He reaches out to the vampire's mind anyway, tries to push the fog aside. It's tangled and ugly and grasping, unwilling to let go.
Almost alive. Balor manages to unfog a bit of Valentine's brain, making the vampire shudder and gasp. “Stop,” he hisses, fangs out. He doesn't seem to know what he's doing. Balor waits for the fog to fade, for the shaking to stop.
Valentine collapses into him, mouth open and wet and dangerous against his neck. Balor tries to ignore it, even when the vampire's teeth brush his skin. They lay together, quiet.
Sadie wakes up gasping. She sees red and snarling and fangs. For a moment she smells blood, thick and heavy. Her heart pounds rapidly in her chest.
“Death?” she calls, sitting up. She can hear heavy breathing fairly close. “Death?” she says again, reaching out. She touches familiar cracked skin and smiles. “There you are.” When he doesn't answer, she frowns. “Is everything alright?”
“No.”
“Did I do something wrong?” He's quick to take her hands in his, skin dry and cool.
“You did nothing wrong. We're fleeing, Sadie. That boy of yours will hide us.
“Balor? Fleeing? Why?” she asks in a rush.
“Raphael is taking you away from me.”
“But I...I don't even know him.”
“He wants the prophet in his own hands, to use. To hurt. He's gathered enough angels to overpower Gabriel, who would have you remain here. God doesn't care to stop them.” Sadie lets Death help her up, folds her arm over his. “Balor is hidden from everything because of who he is. Your connection to him, however, makes him easy for us to find. I will not you be taken. I will flee first, then fight. Let us see what happens to an angel touched by Death,” he growls, sounding as inescapable as he is for the first time.
Sadie thinks of her bloody dreams and grips him tighter.