Chapter Text
Roman, as the lead monster hunter, knew that he was setting himself up for a life of long days and longer nights. He was the agency’s last resort when peace treaties and compromises didn’t work, so when things finally reached him and the other hunters, the situation was, typically, pretty bad. It wasn’t unusual for Roman and his team to have to swoop in and save the day when the fraying peace between humans and monsters grew worse and, therefore, violent.
(If Roman was being honest, though, he believed that the ones in charge of making treaties and compromises were just shit at their jobs because their treaties and compromises barely ever worked, but Roman digressed.)
Roman was still annoyed, though, when he got a call at the ungodly hour of seven in the morning from his boss saying that he needed to come in on one of his few days off. He was less annoyed when his boss stressed the urgency, because now Roman was worried that the city was about to collapse in on itself because it was about to be ransacked by demons or werewolves or fae, but some sliver of annoyance was still there.
After two minutes of staring at his ceiling, questioning his career path, Roman finally threw his covers off of him and swung his legs off the bed. A chill went up his spine as his feet connected with the cold flooring of his bedroom, but he didn’t give himself any more time to moan and groan and, instead, stood and started to pull on the closest, cleanest clothes he could find. The early summer sun was already shining brightly through the little slits in his blinds and, despite his air conditioner blasting on its coldest setting, he knew that the day’s heat was going to be insufferable.
Once he finished freshening up, he remembered to grab his phone from his charger and instantly started dialing a number.
Virgil answered on the second ring.
“You can’t just come in?” his best friend asked on the other line. “You have to call me as you’re literally coming in? We can’t just talk when you get here?” Roman rolled his eyes at Virgil’s annoyed tone, but knew that there was no bite to his bark.
“Don’t act like you don’t love hearing my voice first thing in the morning,” Roman said, walking into his kitchen. Holding his phone in between his shoulder and his ear, he grabbed a to-go cup from his drainboard with one hand and the coffee pot with the other. “And they called you in, too?”
“I’ve already been here,” Virgil said. “Somebody has to work the Saturday morning shifts.” Roman could practically hear Virgil grimacing as he said that.
Roman laughed. “And they chose you.”
“I think it’s because they know that I don’t sleep already,” Virgil said. “They’re trying to get as many hours out of me as they can.”
“But, hey, since we’re on the topic of work,” Roman said, screwing the lid onto his cup and putting the coffee pot in the sink. “Do you know what this whole thing is about? Lockwell sounded pretty tense. More than usual, that is.” He grabbed his keys, wallet, and pocket knife (can never be too safe) from where they sat on the counter and headed
“Uh, kinda?” Roman furrowed his eyebrows at Virgil’s sudden nervous tone. “Right before Lockwell called you, the head of forensics department came in with a shit-ton of files. I don’t know what they talked about, I was just in the breakroom with Lockwell when the head came looking for him. All I know is that I was told to get into the conference room, that you were being called, and that this next case is a gruesome one. They’re still talking outside the room. Can’t hear a word of what they’re saying but I can tell it’s tense.”
“Wait, we’re already on the case?” Roman asked. He walked out of his apartment building and into the heat. He could already feel his clothes sticking to his body, but with the agency only being a couple blocks from his apartment, it would be useless to do anything but walk. “We don’t even know what it is yet.”
“Oh, I’m aware,” Virgil said.
“Then this must be bad,” Roman sighed. “You know, I was hoping for a nice, low-key summer. Like last summer. Last summer was nice.”
“Speak for yourself,” Virgil scoffed. “Last summer was when me and Thomas had to deal with the fae who wanted to, I don’t fucking know, steal children? It’s been a year and I still don’t understand any of that. But do you know how bad a situation is when fae—who typically live in the woods —come to a city with their plans, and do you know how much worse it is when only two people are sent to deal with them?”
“I know, Virg, we’ve talked about this,” Roman sighed. He quickly checked the time and began hastening his step. “Nothing makes sense, our treaties barely work, and there needs to be a better distribution of hunters. We should write Lockwell a sternly worded letter. I bet he would love that. But, hey, I’m gonna go because I’m going to see you in literally five minutes and hearing your amazing voice is slowing my walk.”
“I would get here soon,” Virgil said. “Lockwell has checked his watch five—no, six— times.”
Roman hung up the phone and shoved it in his pocket. Still, though, he arrived to the agency in closer to ten minutes than five. As Roman swiped his ID card at the front desk, Lockwell poked his head out to look into the lobby, his eyes immediately landing on Roman.
“Prince, finally,” he said, walking further out and holding the door open with his hip. He had two thick folders held in one arm. A man whose stress wore him down more than his age did, Roman was sure that he was one crisis away from popping a vein. “I apologize to have to call you in on your day off, but this is a pressing matter. Virgil is already waiting in one of our conference rooms.”
“Lockwell, I have been waiting for the day that Virgil and I are put on a case together,” Roman said, following Lockwell from the lobby and down the next corridor. “This has been a great morning.”
“I would save your glibness until after you see this case,” Lockwell said, his tone too ominous for Roman to brush off as Lockwell just being used to his sparkling personality. “Once we get to the conference room, myself and Dr. Meyer will tell you and Virgil everything.”
“The head of forensics is still here?” Roman questioned and, at Lockwell’s arched eyebrow, continued with, “I called Virgil when I was leaving my apartment to see if he knew anything. He said that Dr. Meyer, who I’m assuming is the forensics guy, dropped off some files, but I didn’t think he was going to be meeting with us.”
“Well, I’m sure you remember how seven people have gone missing in the past week,” Lockwell said.
Roman nodded. “Yeah, it was all over the news,” he said. “A person for each day.”
“Well, they were just found,” Lockwell continued. “None alive, all the same.”
A chill passed down Roman’s spine and made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. “Oh.” He swallowed and shook off his nerves. “That’s terrible, but still, we don’t deal with murders unless-”
“I will tell you more shortly,” Lockwell said as they arrived at the conference room. He pushed the door open for Roman. “Now, get in. We have a lot we need to discuss.”
Roman shuffled into the conference room to see Dr. Meyer, a stack of folders in front of him, sitting across from Virgil, who was nervously eyeing the folders. Roman carefully eyed them as well as he sunk down into the seat next to Virgil. The friends sent each other wary looks as Lockwell sat down next to Dr. Meyer, setting his own folders down in front of him.
“Well, might as well get started,” Dr. Meyer said. His tone was quick, as if he was nervous to even talk about what was in the folders. Roman couldn’t blame him, honestly. Seven missing people showing up dead and their cases being brought to the agency? Didn’t really bode well for what it meant. “Is there anything that you two already know?”
“That the seven people who went missing are all dead,” Roman said. He didn’t even think that Virgil might not have known that information until, in shock, he slammed his elbow into the arm of the chair.
“What?” Virgil practically shouted as Lockwell shot a quick glare at Roman, who pretended to not see it.
“I-I thought you were already told,” Roman stammered.
“No, he wasn’t-” Lockwell started before Virgil cut in.
“You’re telling us that the seven people who went missing last week, including the one who was reported missing yesterday morning , are all dead?” Virgil asked, leaning forward with his hands splayed on the table. “We don’t deal with murders, we-”
“I know that it’s shocking,” the doctor said, sliding over two folders to Roman and Virgil and one to Lockwell. “Trust me, my people were speechless when the… bodies came in last night. My entire night shift was on the case for the whole night. But this… isn’t any ordinary murder.” Roman noted that, for someone who was literally the head of the forensic department that worked with the agency, Dr. Meyer seemed horrified by whatever he saw. Another thing that didn’t bode well for whatever was going on.
“In the folders are the autopsy details,” Dr. Meyer said. Roman flipped the folder open and quickly sifted through the reports. Each time his eyes landed on the name of the deceased, a cold block settled in his stomach. He swallowed thickly and, instead, chose to look at what they believed the cause of death was.
Blood loss. Roman furrowed his eyebrows and lifted his head back up to look at the doctor. Virgil must have noticed that, too, because he wore the same confused expression.
“I assume you two saw the conclusion of the autopsy,” Dr. Meyer said with a sigh. He flipped open his own folder to show them his own report. Despite already having everything he needed typed on it, there were red pen marks everywhere. “All victims showed the same cause of death: blood loss. There was no blunt force trauma, no asphyxiation, no poisons or chemicals. My team even noticed that there were no lacerations, either.”
“Then how do you bleed out seven people?” Roman asked, looking back to his own file.
“Through the neck,” Virgil mumbled, and that was when Roman noticed what Virgil was talking about. On the autopsy report, an outline of a human body was drawn over. Roman’s eyes originally passed over it after having not seen any marks indicating damage to places like the head, chest, or stomach. Now, however, Roman saw was Virgil was seeing: two small X’s on the side of the figure’s neck.
The same image with the same marks were on all the sheets. Roman admitted that his heart gave a jolt when he started to realize what they were dealing with.
“Yes, that,” Dr. Meyer said, his voice quiet. He cleared his throat before continuing, “My colleagues and I wondered the same thing. A person can bleed out eventually, yes, if their blood cannot clot. But these people had no cuts deep enough to do that, nor did any of them have any blood diseases.” He sighed. “However, they did all share identical markings. On the sides of each of their necks were two round wounds, roughly the size of what canines would be. We assumed then that it was a bite, but that still didn’t explain the blood loss. Say this was some freak animal attack. Yes, the bites would have made sense, but there would have been damage to the structure of the neck, too. These are bites, yes, but whatever did it was able to do it without, say, having to leap at the victim. They were able to do it cleanly, and apparently without a struggle. No other marks were left on the victims but these.”
“Holy shit,” Roman said, unable to hold himself back as he finally started to piece everything together. “A human did this, or at least something remotely human.”
Dr. Meyer nodded. “That is what we think,” he said. “We’re still running tests and examinations to see if we can find addition DNA that doesn’t belong to any of the victims but, as of right now, it seems that whoever—or whatever— did this knew what they were doing, and knew how to do it clean.”
“So, let me get this straight, seven people go missing, all at night, might I add,” Virgil piped up, flipping once again through the papers in his file. “They all turn up dead because of blood loss. There are no deep cuts on them, no signs of struggle, no DNA, fibers, anything, and all that’s found are two wounds on the neck that look enough like bite marks, like canines.”
“Or fangs,” Roman interjected, looking at Lockwell. “Forgive me if I’m wrong, but if only a bite is enough to bleed someone dry, then that sounds like a vampire. It’s something big enough to not have to leap at the victim’s neck, ruling out any further damage. Some are known to have the power to persuade or manipulate others, which could be the reason why there was no struggle because they were manipulated. Not to mention the fact that they feed off of blood, which explains the blood loss.”
“Exactly what I was thinking,” Virgil murmured, the truth of Roman’s words settling over the room. Of all the things the agency has had to deal with, vampires have never been one of them. Everything Roman knew about them, he knew from what he had studied years prior. He always knew, however, that dealing with a vampire would probably be one of his worst nightmares. With their strength and speed, not to mention the fact that most had some type of power, going up against a vampire would be more about using strategy than using force, unless he managed to get close enough to cut its head off or set fire to it. But even that, Roman believed, would be a fight.
“That is what we seem to have on our hands here,” Lockwell then said, now sliding over the folders he had to Roman and Virgil. “As Dr. Meyer said, the forensics team is still running tests. But I’ll be damned if this is anything but a case of vampires.” He sighed and shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. “All this city needs is an invasion of vampires. All we need is a horde of vampires taking over the city. That’s why you two are on this case. We need our best on it, and that’s you two. Read over everything in these files and don’t even think about leaving until you can recite everything to each other perfectly.” He then stood and Dr. Meyer followed suit. “Dr. Meyer is going to be heading back to the lab and I am going to figure out cautionary plans for the city and what you two should do exactly. Expect a lot of late nights coming your way, that’s when these things like to attack.”
“We understand what we have to do,” Roman said and Virgil nodded in agreement.
When the two men left, Roman turned to Virgil, wide-eyed.
“Holy shit,” Roman said.
“Still hoping for a laid back summer?” Virgil asked with an arched eyebrow.
“I guess not now,” Roman sighed and flipped over the folder Lockwell gave them. He was convinced that every piece of information the agency had on vampires was in this folder, it was sure thick enough. “Now we have to worry about not being eaten, I guess.”
--
“Virgil, if I have to read these files one more time, I think I might die,” Roman groaned, draping himself dramatically over Virgil’s couch. After literal hours of reviewing the file given to them by Lockwell, along with the forensic file from Dr. Meyer, along with the stacks of other files given to them (all of this happening before noon, Roman might add), Lockwell decided that the two could leave for lunch and continue reviewing the files together in the comfort of one of their homes as long as they swore they would actually look at the files. Roman, despite wanting to do literally anything else but read what he felt like he already had a thousand times already, acquiesced.
Besides, for the past ten minutes, sirens had been going off for about a fire downtown. Roman, in his distracted stupor, had watched all the firetrucks race downtown instead of paying attention to the papers in his hand (which, by now, were somewhere on the floor after they flitted out of his loose grip).
“That is a very poorly timed comment,” Virgil said from where he sat on on the floor. He had spread his own file out hours ago and was currently marking one of his pages. Roman, believing he finally reached his limit of responsibility, sighed.
“We’ve been reading these things for hours,” Roman said, pushing himself up on his elbows. “I can tell you how to kill a vampire, which is either by stabbing it in the heart with a stake or burning it, just in case you didn’t know. To poison one, you inject it with wolfsbane extract, but you’ll die if you eat it, so, don’t. And, Virgil, did you know-”
“Whatever you’re about to say, I know,” Virgil interjected. “Same goes for everything you already said and everything you ever will say. If it’s in this file, I know it. You don’t have to repeat it.”
“Someone’s snappy today,” Roman murmured and Virgil scoffed with an eyeroll.
“I just can’t believe that I currently have a better work ethic than Roman Prince, head monster hunter,” Virgil said. “Don’t you care about this? I mean, not to be morbid, but people are dying, Ro.”
“Yeah, obviously I care,” Roman said, sitting up. “If I was the one running this thing, we would have been out there hours ago. We should have already been out there once we looked over these files. But Lockwell doesn’t have a plan set up yet, so that means that we can’t do anything but read and reread things we already learned years ago. If this thing is still out there, and it probably is, I doubt it’s gonna stop to let us read papers about it.” He sighed and pushed his hair back from his forehead. “I still think that we should get out there.”
“Yeah, I guess I agree,” Virgil said, scratching the back of his neck. “But with what gear? Basically everyone is so dead-set on us not doing anything, they didn’t even give us anything to use.”
Roman rolled his eyes. “So, basically, what we’re stuck with is paper to fight them with. We’re the two best monster hunters, and yet we have no plan, no gear, and not even a lead on who this vampire is because, apparently, they’re a pretty clean killer.”
Virgil shrugged. “I’m sure we’ll get something tomorrow and then you can go back to being heroic.”
Roman grinned. “I do miss being a hero,” he said, looking at the clock. “And speaking of tomorrow and the dangers that face us in the middle of the night, I need to head home.”
“Ro, let me call you a taxi or-”
“It’s fine, Virg,” Roman said. He began collecting his stuff from where it was displaced all over the room. “My apartment is five blocks away and, if anything, I’m a fast runner.” He winked at Virgil, who only slid him a glare.
“Don’t even joke about that,” Virgil muttered, standing up to walk Roman to his front door. “If you don’t text me when you get in, I’m going to kill you first and then go after this vampire by myself.”
“Oh, please,” Roman laughed. “You need me.”
“I need you like I need vampires destroying this city,” Virgil said with a smirk and it was Roman’s turn to give him a glare.
“That was a poorly timed comment,” Roman mocked, swinging the door open. He turned on his heel and leaned on the door frame. “So, we’ll do this all over again tomorrow?”
“Hopefully there will be a plan set up for us,” Virgil said with a shrug.
“I still think they should just let me take over,” Roman sighed. “I have a feeling that we’re gonna be skipping the ‘make a shitty peace treaty’ step and go straight to ‘kill it before it kills us’. Usually I’m not a fan, but drastic times calls for drastic measures, I guess, and I think I can make a plan that, you know, actually works on the first try.”
“I’m sure you can, too,” Virgil said. “But you need to be on this case, and I’m pretty sure that if you try to undermine Lockwell, he might lose it.”
Roman shrugged and turned back around. “We’ll get there eventually,” he said. “See you tomorrow, Virg.”
“See you,” Virgil said. There was a couple moments pause where Roman thought Virgil closed the door when his friend suddenly called back after him, “And text me when you get in!”
“Got it,” Roman called back, waving a hand before descending down the staircase of the apartment building.
The warm night breeze brushed against Roman’s face as he stepped out onto the concrete and the smell of smoke still hung in the air. The sirens stopped, so Roman assumed that the possible threat of a fire burning down the whole city was diminished.
It’d get rid of the vampire problem, though, and Roman wouldn’t even have to lift a finger. Which would make his life much easier (and not in danger of people someone’s next meal), but would get rid of any heroism, so where was the fun in that?
He continued his way down the empty city streets, actually enjoying the remoteness that passed over the city after midnight, when every car horn stopped blaring and people stopped shouting.
He was enjoying the peace, however, until something that sounded a bit too much like a struggle came from the alley Roman was passing. He stopped his walk immediately and slowly turned to face the alley before him. It was where the light from the lamp posts didn’t reach and the darkness stretched back further than Roman could see.
There was definitely someone– something –in that alley and, whatever it was, Roman could hear it fighting something else.
He hesitated, stuck somewhere in between fear and caution. The only thing he had on him that could be remotely harmful was a pocket knife, and he didn’t even think he would give it to anyone to use in a regular fight, and the only light he had would be from his phone and-
Then, the sound of something hissing–something too beastly to be a regular animal– came out of the alley like a wave and washed up Roman’s back in the form of hairs on end.
Roman’s body was moving before his mind could process what he was about to do. With one hand he slid out his pocket knife, flicking it out, and with the other he fumbled out his phone for its flashlight. He knew that the light would only distract whatever it was (most likely a vampire) away from whatever it was attacking (most likely a human that was about to be someone’s midnight snack) and draw it closer to him, but that was a risk he would have to take. It was a risk he would always take.
Running deeper into the alley, the small light finally landed on two figures and all Roman focused on first was one of them, wearing a black cloak, throw whoever was in their hands to the ground. It turned to Roman with a vicious hiss and bright yellow eyes before-
Before leaping up into the night sky and vanishing in a puff of smoke.
Roman didn’t allow himself time to dawdle on whatever he just saw and, instead, decided to shift his attention to the human on the ground that was moving, yes, Roman could hear them moving, which meant they were alive, at least alive for now, and that meant-
Roman did, however, allow himself time to dawdle, along with almost drop his phone and his knife, at the red eyes and fangs that suddenly turned up at him and the hiss that ripped from the person–no, vampire’s – throat.
“ Holy shit, ” Roman said, probably much louder than he should have, as he stumbled back, almost losing his footing. The hissing still rang throughout the alley and, yet to be attacked, Roman started to get the feeling that he was the more posing threat to the vampire than vice versa.
When he tentatively shone his flashlight back on the vampire, his hand shaking more than he would have liked to admit, he saw why.
The first thing he noticed was that the vampire was sprawled on his side with his ankles bound by a tightly wound rope, and the way his arms were pulled behind him, Roman assumed that his hands were tied, too. The next were the glasses on the concrete, displaced as if they had been hit off. The last thing he noticed, which probably should have been the first thing he saw, was the stake driven into the vampire’s arm and the pain straining on his face.
Roman would have assumed that someone else had tried to take matters into their own hands if he didn’t remember the other thing, most likely another vampire, that had just been attacking this one.
Roman had a thousand thoughts running through his head, a thousand things he wanted to say, and somehow what he thought would be best was, “Stop hissing! I’m going to help you!” He mentally kicked himself once he said it. If this vampire also happened to be the one that had killed all those people, Roman might as well have been digging his own grave.
But there was something in the back of his mind, something that told him that if this wasn’t that vampire, Roman wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he left this one tied up with a stake stabbed into his arm. Eventually the sun would rise, and even though that alone wouldn’t kill the vampire, that along with the stake in his arm and any other weaknesses that could plague him just might.
“Don’t come near me,” the vampire said. His voice carried shakily over to Roman, the pain he was feeling evident in the weakness of his words.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” Roman assured, trying his best to keep his voice calm. “I’m assuming that other thing–that other vampire?–just attacked you, right?” The vampire hesitated before nodding. “I know you probably have no reason to trust me, I mean, who trusts anyone coming up to them at an alley with a knife?” Roman flashed him a smile and only received a stare in return. Okay, backtrack Roman. “What I’m trying to say is that I want to help you. I want to cut you out of those ropes and look at that stake in your arm, but I need you to let me near you.”
When the vampire hesitated, eyes flitting to and away from Roman, Roman finally sighed and said, “Listen, I don’t mean to pull this card, but it’s either that I help you out or you stay here and get weaker when the sun comes out, and then who knows what will happen to you.”
The vampire worried his bottom lip as he considered whether or not to actually trust Roman, his fangs poking out, before finally nodding. Roman grinned (and still didn’t receive one back) and approached the vampire. He knelt down and began slowly, carefully, cutting the ropes. He couldn’t hold his flashlight and cut the ropes at the same time, so he just had to hope that he didn’t accidentally cut himself and send the other into a feeding frenzy.
“I’m Roman, by the way,” he said, cutting away the ropes at his ankles. He waited until the other was looking at him to move behind him. “I feel like some introductions are needed.”
“Logan,” the vampire, Logan, said. Roman arched an eyebrow at how his voice wavered even when saying that one word, but he figured that being tied up with a stake thrust into one’s arm was not the most pleasant thing.
“A pleasure, Logan,” Roman said and began cutting at the rope that tied his hands.
“It really isn’t,” Logan said, and as if to solidify that, let out a loud hiss of pain when Roman jostled his arms a bit too much.
“Sorry, sorry,” Roman said quickly. “Listen, the only gear I have on me right now is a pocket knife that isn’t very sharp. I’ll work on that stake in your arm right after I finish this.”
“You say that as if you do this often,” Logan noted. Every word he spoke was laced with pain and fatigue, some even starting to slur together. Roman did his best to cut the rope faster while not shifting Logan too much. He didn’t know what had happened to him, but Roman started to get the feeling that it was more than just being bound with a stake in his arm.
“Funny story, about that,” Roman said, though neither of them were laughing. He finally cut Logan’s hands loose and came around to the front of him. “I, uh, work for the city’s monster hunting agency.”
“Are you going to kill me?” Logan asked, rather straightforward.
“Are you the vampire that just killed seven people?” Roman asked in return.
“No.”
“Then you’re in luck,” Roman said. “You’re not the vampire I’m looking for.” Roman considered adding on that the vampire that attacked Logan was probably the one he was after, but he figured that he should at least have the courtesy to save Logan first before asking.
“Wonderful,” Logan muttered before slowly pushing himself up so that he was sitting. Luckily, he wasn’t leaning on the arm that was staked, but it didn’t seem to make the movement any less painful. Just the process of going from lying down to sitting seemed to wear Logan down, and the way his eyes started to take on a bleary look did not go unnoticed.
Roman, at that, remembered the glasses pushed aside on the concrete. He skirted his hand on the pavement until they brushed against lenses. Picking them up and pressing them into Logan’s hands, he said, “Didn’t think vampires wore glasses.”
“Vampirism doesn’t fix everything,” Logan said. When he tried to put his glasses on, he let out a strained hiss as his injured arm spasmed and the glasses clattered back to the concrete.
Roman worried his bottom lip and slid the glasses on Logan himself. He had hoped Logan’s gaze would have focused behind the lenses and was only met with disappointment and a growing concern. “So, I think it’s time we get this stake out of you,” he said, grabbing his phone and turning on his flashlight again. When he shone it on Logan’s staked arm, however, his mind faltered.
A vampire could only be killed by a wooden stake if it’s stabbed through their heart. Otherwise, it’s just as if they’ve been stabbed. Roman assumed it involved a lot of pain, yes, but there was no fatality and no extreme injuries. On removal, the wound would naturally begin to heal itself immediately. One of the first things Roman was taught about vampires is that staking one anywhere but the heart would be nothing but a painful inconvenience, unless-
Roman finally pieced together why Logan hissed with pain at every sudden movement, why every shift and fidget took all of his energy, and why his words started to slur and his eyes started to blur. Where Logan was stabbed, the ichor in his system bubbled from the wound while his skin cauterized around the stake. Each movement for Logan caused a searing pain to run through him and his grip on reality to lessen because, Roman realized, the stake he was stabbed with had been laced with wolfsbane, the most efficient poison to use against vampires.
“You’ve been poisoned,” Roman said, unable to keep the shock out of his voice as he examined the wound.
“Wolfsbane,” Logan murmured, his head beginning to loll, and Roman knew he only had, at most, a few minutes before Logan fell into a feverish stupor.
“Should have been something you mentioned earlier, but it’s fine,” Roman said, his lie obvious. “But now you have to stay with me, okay? I have to get this stake out of your arm and it’s going to hurt a lot, probably.” Roman paused. “Please don’t attack me when I do this.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” Logan said, the words slurred together to form one. Roman worried his bottom lip, watching as Logan grew more and more dazed. “I have to get to Patton. He… he’ll know what to do.”
“Patton?” Roman questioned, his eyebrows furrowing at the new name. He didn’t plan to use Logan’s progressively worsening state as an opportunity to get answers, but, hey, two birds, one stone, right? “Is that the one who did this to you?”
“No, no, he’s the one I live with, he knows what to do,” Logan rambled, his eyes gazing all around the alley as if he was just seeing it for the first time.
“Okay, where is he?” Roman asked. He’ll address later the fact that there’s not one but three vampires who live in the city but, currently, he had a larger problem to deal with. “Is he close by?”
“He’s somewhere. We used to be downtown…” Logan then trailed off, blinking blearily at Roman.
“Okay, well, you don’t have the time to go look for him,” Roman said quickly. “I apologize for having to do this, but I have to get that stake out of you. Please don’t attack me for doing this.” Frankly, Roman didn’t think Logan was strong enough to attack him, but that still didn’t stop him from grabbing the stake and yanking it out of Logan in one quick, fluid motion and tossing it aside.
Logan’s pained hiss quickly turned into a cry that ripped out from his throat and echoed against the alley walls and in Roman’s ears. The wound bubbled with tainted, black ichor and a tremor racked its way down Logan’s body.
Roman’s original plan had been to free the vampire, as long as it wasn’t the one that had been killing humans, and be on his way. It would be his little secret from the agency, from everyone, and he would hope that it wouldn’t come back one day to bite him (literally). Now, though, with Logan’s worsening condition and the poison in his system, Roman didn’t think he could leave him now and still keep a good conscience. He truly believed that Logan was telling the truth when he said that he wasn’t the vampire Roman was looking for–honestly, Roman believed he would have been dead by now if that was the case–and, even though Lockwell and every other higher up in the agency would have said otherwise, Roman saw no reason to leave Logan out here, the poison leaving him weak and unable to feed. If he left Logan, he would just become prey to anything that would take advantage of him in this state.
Besides, Roman found it hard to not pity the vampire who had been attacked, poisoned, and left to die slowly by one of his own. If anything, he could justify what he was about to do by telling himself that the nicer he was, the more answers he could get from Logan when he finally regained consciousness.
So, Roman, after pocketing his phone from where it was on the concrete, tried not to think too much as he slowly, carefully, scooped Logan up in his arms and began to carry him out of the alley. He felt Logan’s hands weakly press against his chest, as if he meant to push himself away from Roman, but instead his hands just fisted in Roman’s shirt, his claws digging wrinkles into the material.
“I’m going to take you back to my apartment,” Roman said quietly. By now, the wolfsbanes’ effects had completely washed over Logan and left him a trembling mess in his arms. Roman kept having to remind himself that, despite the poison now being pumped through Logan’s body, he was not going to die and there was nothing else Roman could do until he found an antidote, which wouldn’t be until he clocked into work in a couple hours. “I have a friend who can help, and we can get you an antidote, and no one from my job will find out about this because then I’ll be the next person in this city who dies. And then, once you’re all better, you can go your own way and I can go mine and we can pretend that I didn’t just rescue and take in a vampire from off the street because, have I mentioned what I do for a living and how my boss will probably kill me?”
When Roman was met with no response, he glanced down at Logan and saw that he was just on the brink of falling unconscious, his eyes snapping shut and opening half way only to close again. His head lolled again Roman’s chest and his hands, still lightly gripping his shirt, trembled so much that Roman felt the vibrations as if they were his own.
Roman was able to arrive back to his apartment with no interference, which seemed to be the one true perk of him being out after midnight, and he somehow managed to unlock his door without dropping the now unconscious vampire.
When he walked in, he kicked the door shut behind him and instantly deposited Logan on the couch. The moonlight gave a better lighting than that of the alley, and Roman frowned when he saw the pain still set deep into Logan’s features. The poison was continuing its rampage through him even in his state of rest.
He drew all his curtains shut, knowing that he would have to find something better to keep the sun from irritating Logan once it rose, before slipping quietly into the kitchen. He took his phone out of his pocket and dialed.
Virgil answered on the first ring.
“Roman, are you fucking kidding me? I was literally about to head out myself and search for you, where the fuck-”
“Virgil,” Roman cut him off. Virgil must have heard the strain in Roman’s tone because he didn’t try to say anything else. “I might have a bit of an issue on my hands. How fast can you get here?”