Chapter Text
“Lang.”
Shih-na’s voice was as curt and neutral as ever, but there was an undeniable urgency prodding at the edges of her tone, one that only he had come to recognize. He lowered his hand from the door of their hotel room and turned to face her.
“Something up, Shih-na?”
Shih-na took a single, purposeful step towards him.
“I have a request.” With a smooth, well-practiced motion, she slid her sunglasses off of her face. Pink eyes devoid of any perceivable emotion bored into his as she stated her intentions, simply and plainly. “I need your blood.”
“What? Already?” Lang said, raising an eyebrow. “You only just got some a couple of days ago, didn’t you?”
“Correct. However, as I’m sure you are aware, this investigation has proven rather difficult. It has… drained me more than I anticipated.” A ghost of a grimace flickered on her face as she said that. She then took another step towards him. “As such, I’m afraid I must insist. Give me your blood.”
Lang frowned and let out a low, pensive growl, like a wolf pondering which of its prey to strike first. Shih-na held her cards so close to her chest they were practically merging into her, but Lang liked to believe that, as her boss, he could spot the subtle clues in her actions no one else could. And yet, he hadn’t realized she had been running on fumes throughout this case. What a disgrace he was, letting down his most precious subordinate like that.
Well, that meant there was only one way to make things right. With a sharp bark of laughter, he nodded his approval.
“Alright, fine. Eat your fill, Shih-na.”
“Thank you, Lang,” Shih-na said, bowing at him.
With no hesitation, she proceeded to close the remaining gap between them and, with a single, open-palmed shove, pressed Lang’s back against the wall. A nearby table rattled slightly from the impact.
None of this was remotely appropriate behaviour for a subordinate to display towards their superior officer, of course, and it flew in the face of the firm, if-not caring discipline with which Lang commanded his pack, but for Shih-na, he supposed an exception was in order. It was a matter of survival for her. Lang Zi once said even the bite of the pack’s leader will not dissuade a ravenous runt, and, well… the glint of hunger that entered her normally empty eyes as she stared at his neck was hard to ignore.
“Excuse me,” she stated before biting mercilessly into Lang’s flesh. He grunted briefly at the now-familiar pain, clenching a fist and hitting it against the wall to distract himself from the initial sharpness of her fangs.
As with everything she did, Shih-na fed with the utmost efficiency. She knew what she wanted from Lang, and understood exactly how to get it. First, she had sunk her fangs as far as they could go, straight into his neck, to ensure as much blood flowed forth from the wounds as possible. Once that flow had been confirmed, she raised a hand to his throat, pressing down on it with a precision so exact Lang had to wonder where, and why, she had learned it. Either way, it made breathing a challenge- though not impossible. As Shih-na pushed against his throat, the pressure forced yet more blood to ooze from his wounds, as though she were squeezing a fruit for every drop of juice it held.
Were it not for the fact that he was already short of breath, all this would have left Lang breathless. There was something in the utter stoicism with which Shih-na carried herself, even as her actions became increasingly violent- brutal, even, as blood ran further and further down her face and spattered her cheeks- that left him transfixed. It made him, for lack of any more eloquent way to process it, want to find the nearest moonlit forest and howl into the night sky until his throat was hoarse.
It also made him briefly contemplate raising his hands, currently flat against the wall, and holding onto Shih-na. Not just to steady himself, but to find some way of expressing the feelings he had quietly nurtured for years now. The same feelings that had left him so captivated by the strange, vicious beauty of her devouring his blood. However, whatever vestiges of a wolf’s pride that remained in him left his hands exactly where they were. Deep though his affections were, that was a line he could not cross. Not with a subordinate- someone he had a duty to look after, to protect.
Even if she happened to be pushing him against a wall and biting him right now, a scenario he would have a hard time explaining to any member of his pack who happened to wander in looking for them.
Then, with little warning and even less fanfare, Shih-na stopped feeding. Her fangs slid cleanly from his wounds. Her hand withdrew from his neck and snapped back to her side. Lang barely caught sight of the sharp points of her fangs as she stepped away from him, mouth still half-open. Blood coated them in uneven, messy splotches, much as it did her face. A thin, crimson trail of it dripped from her bottom lip, but with a swift flick of her tongue, Shih-na swept it up and drank it.
These short few moments after she had fed on him were probably the only time Lang ever saw her in anything less than immaculate condition. That, too, only seemed to draw him closer to her. It offered a glimpse, however narrow and limited, into something that lay beneath Shih-na’s seemingly inscrutable exterior. Like the thin smiles that occasionally graced her lips, or the even rarer, monosyllabic laughs that had escaped them only a handful of times, before she quickly pushed them back down.
Despite all their years together, there was so much about Shih-na that Lang didn’t know. That he wanted to know. Even what few smiles he had witnessed from her were so reserved that he’d never really gotten that good a look at her fangs- although, he noted, gritting his teeth, he sure had a pretty good idea of exactly how long and sharp they were by now.
Once Shih-na had wiped her face clean with a nearby cloth, and handed Lang one of his own, she bowed her head again, as formal as always. As if she hadn’t just rendered his neck a bloodstained mess.
“Thank you, Lang. I trust you still feel well enough to carry out your duties.”
“Yeah, still plenty of juice in the tank,” he replied, wiping his neck down. The wound had already closed, although he knew it would still be pretty visible. As always, he’d have to hide it from the rest of his pack. “How about you, Shih-na? Get all your vitamins?”
“Yes. I believe this much should satisfy my hunger for now.”
Her eyes drifted slightly downward as she spoke, focusing on… something. It didn’t seem to be his neck, at least. Her lips seemed to purse in contemplation, and something flickered in her eyes, breaking through her normally blank, distant stare. It resembled the hunger that had shone in them earlier, but it wasn’t quite the same. Before Lang could interrogate that observation any further, whatever was in her eyes faded away, like a match bursting into flame, only to be immediately extinguished
“At any rate, we should head to the crime scene. I apologize for delaying us, Shifu,” she said, the sudden use of a title she had long since discarded making his eyebrows raise. Without another word, Shih-na turned away, walked at an unusually fast pace over to the door, and left the room, leaving Lang alone.
He stared at the door as it closed behind her before letting out a low chuckle. He truly had no idea what was going through her head. But then, he supposed that’s why she was so fascinating.
Stepping over to a chair he had draped his feather boa over, he picked the boa up and slid it around his neck, carefully angling it to conceal his wounds. He’d have to take it easy with some of his flashier gestures today, just to keep it in place.
Lang smirked to himself. It almost felt like he was in some kind of forbidden workplace tryst, sneaking around, trying to conceal his love bites. He chuckled again. If only, right? No, this was a strictly professional boss-vampire subordinate relationship. Even if he couldn’t help but wonder just what it was he’d spotted in her eyes before she’d left.
Chapter 2
Summary:
Shih-na attempts to get blood in a somewhat less harsh manner.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Lang was, in a word, fascinating. Fascinatingly fearless in the face of Shih-na, a vampire, even when she had told him in no uncertain terms that she could kill him with ease, should the urge strike her. Fascinatingly, bizarrely trusting of her, despite that knowledge. And, most of all, fascinatingly stupid for having that trust in her to begin with, for presuming that just because she had revealed her vampirism to him, that meant there were no other secrets locked deep within her motionless heart. Lang was hopelessly naive. Blindly ignorant to her nature, and to her motives.
It made him an easy target for surveillance. Shockingly so, given his position as Interpol’s top agent, and the legion of subordinates at his beck and call, any one of them granted ample opportunity to spot something strange in her demeanour, to form suspicions. But none of them ever did. Their loyalty was as blind as Lang’s, and if their beloved Shifu trusted her, then they trusted her unconditionally in turn.
No one but Lang was aware of her vampiric nature, of course. She imagined even Lang’s men would begin to doubt his judgement if they learned his secretary was a vampire, of all things. Granting him alone that knowledge had been a risk, a tactical gamble that had relied on his unwavering dedication to his subordinates. It had paid off, of course. In the short year that she had been with him before that revelation, she had come to understand just about everything there was to know about Lang- which, frankly, wasn’t much.
He was a simple, straightforward man, guided by his unwavering principles and his detainment philosophy. Nothing like the conniving, craven kingpins of rival smuggling organizations she had been ordered to infiltrate and, eventually, subdue. Nothing, she noted with a short, sharp pang of something, some emotion she preferred not to name, like the Yatagarasu, righteous, yet duplicitous.
At times, Shih-na found herself hoping her mission to observe Lang wouldn’t end the same way that one had. That it wouldn’t end at all, even. That she could simply continue to hinder and obstruct his investigation from behind the scenes, rendering him a distant nuisance the ring wouldn’t consider worthy of assassination, until the day every lead had been exhausted and the case finally went cold. Only because it was easier this way. Entrusting him with knowledge of her vampirism had been a ploy to ensure that, and nothing more.
Her hunger had, many times before, been a hindrance to her missions. Few would have been as absurdly accepting of her as Lang, especially among the rival rings. Anyone within them she fed on had to die, to eliminate any possibility of a witness. But that, in turn, required disposal of the body to hide the nature of their death, and a guarantee that whoever she killed wouldn’t be missed too much. Kill the wrong person, and the leaders sense the sharks circling and begin to withdraw, shutting out anyone they deem worthy of suspicion- and a newcomer like Shih-na would be at the top of their list.
None of that was a concern with Lang. Any blood she needed, she simply requested from him. His large frame, and the nigh-inhuman endurance that allowed him to pursue a case without rest for hours at a time, ensured she was well-fed without many adverse effects on Lang himself. It kept her nature discrete, under control, and without the risk of a murder that would throw her identity into question.
The true stroke of genius had been the effect on Lang himself, though. Telling him had only solidified her cover, made her identity seem that much more believable. Lang truly believed she had confessed her darkest secret to him and, the kind, noble idiot that he was, he had seen that calculated vulnerability and only trusted her more as a result. She could see it in his eyes whenever she asked for his blood. As with all his subordinates, he saw himself as her protector. A proud wolf, defending poor, tortured little vampire Shih-na from her hideous curse by offering himself up as her food.
Ridiculous. He was an utterly ridiculous idiot for believing all that for even a second.
And so was she.
Much as she wished to deny it, to squash down every last vestige of warmth and humanity left within her, for her own sake, the strange comfort she took in Lang’s actions remained, irrepressible and endlessly infuriating. Thanks to Lang, she hadn’t had to kill anyone in years. Her hunger was sated regularly and thoroughly. Her cover, both as a vampire and as an agent of the smuggling ring, was all the more secure, and all the easier to maintain.
And then there was her most treacherous sentiment of all, one she dared not voice for fear of swift, merciless reprisal- spying on Lang had allowed her to avoid the dirtier jobs the ring doled out for years now. Oh, she was hardly innocent, she knew that. Forged evidence, false testimonies, leads that sent him and his men down a long, winding road, only to be met with a dead-end, she dabbled in all of them when the need had arisen. But they were a far cry from the miserable brutality of her previous missions. Her hands may not be clean, but at least they weren’t submerged in the muck and grime and rotten, foul-tasting blood they once were.
She liked that. Despite everything she told herself, she liked it. She liked being around Lang. She liked not having to kill anyone. She liked working with him, pretending she was doing good in the world. And she liked Lang. Stupid, short-sighted, endlessly kind Lang, who had made her wish, deep down, for this mission to never end, for this window into a better life for her to never be shut.
Shih-na could only curse herself for that. Herself, and the idiotic sentimentality that had last plagued her when she had become the Yatagarasu. Attachment to her targets would only lead to hesitation when the time came. Hesitation risked failure. Failure risked the same end she had brought to so many of her victims.
And yet, even as her better judgement screamed and screamed for her to stop, that attachment led Shih-na inexorably towards an indulgence. One she knew she would regret, that would only make the inevitable end of her time with Lang all the harder to bear. So, as she so often did, she justified it to herself, smothering her feelings beneath layers upon layers of lies.
When she fed on Lang, it was in much the same way as her other, far less fortunate victims. Swift, efficient, detached in its violence. Drain their blood to sate her hunger, choke them to prevent any screams or calls for help. The pressure she put on Lang’s throat had been greatly reduced for his own safety, but the principle was much the same.
Well, she thought, fully aware of how hollow the excuse was, perhaps there was no longer a need for that method. Surely she could be… gentler. Kinder. Feign an affection and intimacy to the proceedings that would engender more trust in her. Yes, of course it would. Doing this would only benefit the mission.
Repeating this in her own head like a chanted mantra, Shih-na put the case files she had been failing to read for the past few minutes down on the low table in front of her. She then stood up from the sofa in the center of their hotel suite and strode towards a larger desk sat in its corner where Lang quietly worked, sifting through his own stack of documents. Standing at his side, Shih-na crouched until she was level with him.
“Pardon the interruption, Lang, but I’m afraid I need to request your blood.”
“Dinner time already, huh? Guess it’s later than I thought,” he said, turning to face her. Undoing a handful of the buttons on his jacket, he slipped it halfway off, letting its large collar fall away from his neck. To avoid bloodstains, as he had previously explained to her. A prudent decision. One Shih-na had few objections to, she thought as she allowed herself a brief, intent glance at his exposed chest. “Alright, food’s up. Just watch these files, would you? I borrowed these from the precinct, and they’re not gonna like me getting blood all over ‘em.”
Stifling a scoff, Shih-na nodded.
“Of course, Lang. Well then, excuse me.”
With that, Shih-na leaned in closer to Lang and brought her teeth to the soft flesh of his neck. Rather than biting into it immediately as she normally did, however, she instead chose to let the points of her fangs graze slowly along the surface of his skin, searching for the ideal spot to sink them in to. She slid a hand towards his neck in turn, avoiding his throat in favour of resting lightly against his nape. Her other hand aimed lower, pressing against his firm chest. All this was rapidly expanding far beyond the scope of being for the mission’s benefit. She knew that. Nonetheless, Shih-na let herself luxuriate in the warmth radiating from his chest, and in the subtle hastening of his heartbeat beneath her fingers.
Reminding herself that this was for the mission, Shih-na dragged her lingering gaze away from Lang’s chest and back to his neck. Inhaling an unneeded breath, more for show than anything else, she opened her mouth wide and, as she had done so many times before, plunged her fangs deeply into his neck. Warm blood began to spill forth into her mouth, fresh and rich and intoxicatingly delicious. The flow was less than she was used to without the pressure she usually applied to his throat, but the taste of it was as addictive as ever. Lang was young and healthy and, she noted with a slight squeeze of her fingertips against his chest, very much in shape. All that lent a clean, refreshing flavour to his blood, a gourmet meal she had the privilege of enjoying night after night, even if tonight the portion was smaller than she was used to.
Shih-na then felt a weight fall upon her shoulders, first making only tentative contact before firmly grasping them. It was Lang’s hands, holding on to her. For an imperceptible moment, Shih-na jolted at the unfamiliar touch before her training kicked in, suppressing the reaction into impassive, unmoving neutrality. For once, she found herself grateful that her heart had long since died, unable to betray her by beating any faster. Purely from how unexpected this was. Nothing more. In all the years she had fed on him, Lang had never once dared to touch her. Not even as a defensive instinct when her hand was around his throat. His hands had always remained steadfastly at his side, merely balling into fists as he endured her feeding.
But now, the moment she dared close the professional distance between them, turning her need for blood from a simple necessity to an act of intimacy, practically cuddling up to him in the process, he had reciprocated, rather than rejected the advance. Even now she could feel one of his hands sliding slowly downwards to her back, as if his intentions weren’t obvious enough already. That led her to only one conclusion.
Lang, the poor fool, had fallen in love with her.
Delight surged freely through her mind like the blood spilling from Lang’s neck. Her lips curved upwards in a crooked smile as she continued to drink. After all these years, she could finally confirm it. Lang loved her.
Why did that make her so happy? All this meant was that Lang, lovestruck as he was, would be even easier to manipulate. The only emotion she should be feeling was a certain level of satisfaction at a job well done. Not this. Not the sudden urge to bring herself closer to him and let a hand run its way through the carefully styled tufts of his hair. Nor the thrill she felt at the sensation of his own hands, warm and firm, on her cold skin.
None of this was supposed to matter to her. It was just another job. Another target to be used, disposed of, and forgotten. But it did matter. She liked this. Wanted it to continue, to be able to do this every day, without any concern for that damned smuggling ring and its-
As soon as that thought crossed her mind, Shih-na froze in place, her muscles tensing. Withdrawing her fangs from his wound in a swift, abrupt motion, she pulled away from Lang, her strength as a vampire easily breaking through his hold. Blood continued to ooze from his neck, tracing a bright red line as it dripped down towards his chest. All that wonderful, delicious blood, going to waste. Her stomach lurched in miserable protest at the sight. She’d barely even had half of what she would normally take from Lang, and now here was more, so invitingly, vividly red. She could easily lick it off of him, if she really wanted to. That want was the whole problem, though.
Lang looked at her with a puzzled expression, hands hanging awkwardly in the space she had occupied just a few seconds ago before falling slowly into his lap and clasping together.
“Sorry, Shih-na. Looks like I crossed a line there.” He scowled. “With a subordinate, no less. I dunno what Lang Zi would say about that, but it wouldn’t be anything good, that’s for sure.”
Shih-na shook her head. She wasn’t sure what emotion, if any, had snuck its way onto her face when she had moved away from Lang, but it had now returned to the stoic, expressionless mask she usually wore. Right now, she was deeply thankful this was the persona she had landed upon for this mission. It made hiding her intentions so much simpler.
“Think nothing of it, Shifu. It was I who crossed the line, not you. In truth, I had been assessing my usual behaviour when feeding, and I found it to have been, perhaps, too callous. Disrespectfully, so. As such, I opted to try a more gentle approach, for your own comfort, and to better show respect to you. But I see now that it lent itself to a… misunderstanding.”
She fought back the temptation to then assure Lang that if she had her way, she would happily cross that line again. She dared not think about repeating that mistake.
Lang chuckled, shaking his own head in turn.
“You’re telling me. What got that idea into your head now of all times, anyway? In all the years we’ve worked together, you’ve never cared about being that delicate about it.”
A grimace threatened to flash across her face, but Shih-na stopped it in its tracks before her mouth could even twitch. Yes, this was more like it. At last, she was back in control.
“As I said, I thought you would find it more comfortable. Was I mistaken?” she asked.
“Well, I can’t say I didn’t like it…” Lang coughed, swiftly steering himself away from what he had no doubt considered a blatantly unprofessional comment. “But it’s not like I had a problem with your usual methods, either.”
“You didn’t?” Shih-na said, raising an eyebrow.
“Lang Zi says the wolf who shows his prey mercy returns to the den hungry. You might be a vampire, but you drink your blood like a true wolf. You don’t take any prisoners.” He grinned proudly at her. “I respect that about you, Shih-na. There’s a reason you’re my second-in-command.”
Shih-na could hardly believe what she was hearing. He enjoyed being manhandled like that? All because of that absurd, wolf-obsessed ancestor of his? How stupid could he get, really? Not for the first time, she found herself wanting desperately to laugh and laugh until it hurt, but, as always, she held it in, even as it felt like she might explode at any moment.
Once she felt the laughter had been sufficiently buried, she replied.
“I see. If that is how you feel, then I will continue as normal, Lang. My apologies for overstepping earlier. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” she said, offering him a curt bow.
Once Lang had nodded in acknowledgement, she turned and walked back to the case files she was supposed to be reviewing. Just as before, though, she found she was barely registering their contents, too absorbed in ruminating on the disaster she had almost walked herself into.
It was the closest she had ever come to being compromised, all because she’d allowed those unnecessary feelings that lurked beneath her carefully constructed exterior to get the better of her. Had she not stopped herself, she could easily have made a mistake she could never correct. One that could eventually have cost her her life, should her loyalty to the ring be brought into question.
And for what? Some Interpol agent who hadn’t the faintest idea of who she really was? Was ensuring her own survival really worth that risk?
But then she thought about that stupid, confident smirk of his, and his ridiculous library of wolf-themed quotes, and the sheer, pure-hearted commitment he had to a cause far bigger than himself, and, frankly, to how good his blood tasted, and that traitorous little voice in her brain said yes. And Shih-na found it hard to disagree with it. Even if she had to.
Notes:
at a certain point this fic became less about shih-na, who is a vampire, and more just shih-na who happens to be a vampire. however i got to write langna bitey again so the vampire element is wholly necessary
sorry to all "narumitsu" enjoyers for stealing your most iconic line for toxic vampire het
Chapter 3
Summary:
After Lang arrests her in the embassy lobby, Shih-na makes her escape.
Notes:
instead of a brain i have vampire shih-na violence
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Lang hadn’t said a word from the moment he and Shih-na had entered the police car. Even now, he barely acknowledged the officers stationed throughout the detention center, merely offering them a curt nod as he marched Shih-na towards a vacant cell, their frantic questions left unanswered. He maintained a firm grip on both of her arms, an extra layer of security on top of the handcuffs already locked around her wrists. Not that any of it would do him much good.
She had no idea how he was still standing, frankly. Badd’s bullet hadn’t hit any major arteries, but Shih-na knew better than most that a leg wound like that was enough to render most people immobile. But then, she also knew all too well that Lang wasn’t like most people. Who in their right mind would even consider jumping in front of a gun like that, much less to protect a vampire? It was completely pointless. A bullet to her leg would have been problematic, but hardly lethal for someone like her.
That was the last thing she would have expected to have in common with Lang. His pace hadn’t faltered once since he had restrained her at the embassy, even as more and more blood- delicious, no doubt, despite being tinged with the unappealing, coppery taste of gunmetal- trickled down his leg.
As they neared the end of a long, dull grey hallway, a single ajar cell door on their left, Lang finally spoke.
“Shih-na. I’m not gonna ask you why you did any of this. I know you’re not going to tell me.”
She scoffed.
“Very astute, Shifu,” she replied, lacing the now-meaningless title with as much sarcasm as she could muster. His hands tightened around her arms for a moment.
“All I wanna know is… why’d you try to escape like that? Taking that Faraday kid hostage? Letting me stop you? Hell, you’ve let me drag you all the way to the station with your tail between your legs. We both know you could’ve shaken me off easily and made a break for it if you wanted to. You let yourself get caught. Why?”
So, he was onto her already. She supposed she shouldn’t be surprised. Despite her jibes, Lang was an astute detective. Well, that was fine.
“You’re right. I allowed you to arrest me. It was easier that way,” she said.
“Easier?”
“Even for a vampire, that would have been a challenging situation to escape from with brute force. Badd aimed for my leg, but if it had been my head or chest, well…” Shih-na laughed, the sound coming out as an unsettling giggle. “I would have died, the same as any human. And even if I had taken care of him, I could hardly fight off all the men you had stationed around the embassy all at once. You’d have to be an idiot to try, under those circumstances.”
As she spoke, Lang had steered her sharply to the left, and they had passed through the door of a small holding cell. Barren, recently cleaned, and, she could sense, completely isolated. The adjacent rooms were unoccupied interrogation rooms, the cell itself designed to hold newly-arrested suspects for questioning. As Lang hadn’t informed anyone of her arrest, nobody was here, ready to question her. No doubt he intended to handle the entire process himself, spouting some nonsense about his responsibility as her boss.
She knew he would do this. Lang was as predictable as the phases of the moon. At this point, Shih-na knew him better than he knew himself. Perhaps better than her mission ever really called for.
Her lips twisted upwards into a joyless smirk. No, not at all. All that knowledge had certainly come in handy now.
“Yes, only an idiot would have made their escape in the embassy.”
She felt Lang’s grip on her loosen, heard the slight scuff of his shoes against the concrete floor as he took half a step back, and her smirk widened into a grin. He always did have good instincts.
“That's why this will be much easier!”
Tensing her muscles, Shih-na swung her arms apart from each other, the handcuffs around her wrists shattering instantly as though they were made of paper. Spinning on her heels, she was met with Lang stumbling backwards, a fierce grimace on his face and his hands already balling back into tight fists. The moment he had regained his footing, Lang charged at Shih-na, left fist propelling forward in a wild swing. A mindless attack, fuelled by rage and betrayal without an ounce of tactical thought- and pathetically easy to counter. All she had to do was step to her right, watching with amusement as his fist swung hopelessly at thin air. Shih-na then lifted her leg and delivered a swift strike to Lang’s own, aiming straight for the bullet wound scarring his thigh. Lang cried out in pain, the split second in which he flinched providing Shih-na ample time to shove him roughly to the ground.
She lowered herself down towards Lang, straddling his chest and pressing her hands against his shoulders, pinning them to the floor. With her hold on him secured, she allowed her nails to extend and curve into long, pointed claws that ripped through her gloves and prodded threateningly against Lang’s skin. Leaning further down, Shih-na brought her head towards his ear.
“See? Much, much easier,” she whispered, revelling in the shiver reverberating throughout Lang’s body as her cold breath hit his ear.
“Waiting ‘til you had me on my own? Makes sense, I guess…” Lang growled, his words punctuated by occassional grunts as he struggled against Shih-na’s hands. “Well? Aren’t you gonna run? You’ve made your point, haven’t you? I can’t stop you. I’m like a sickly pup compared to you. So… just get outta here already.”
“I don’t think so. We aren’t done here yet, Lang,” Shih-na said, her voice low. She shifted her head downwards, bringing the points of her fangs against his neck, and felt the resistance of his muscle, so tense and alert, against them. Just as she had done so many times before, she bit down into the supple flesh, savouring the first, thick drops of blood that rushed from it.
Disappointingly, Lang barely seemed to react to it, merely hissing at the initial pain of her fangs piercing his skin before returning to his futile attempts to throw her off. Perhaps he’d simply grown too used to Shih-na feeding from him for it to truly hurt anymore. That only seemed natural. Over the years, it had become little more than routine. Familiar, almost comfortable. Far more comfortable than Shih-na had ever wanted to admit.
Even now, as more and more of the blood she had eagerly drank so many times trickled into her mouth, Shih-na wondered if this truly had to be the last time she tasted this. If she couldn’t back down and surrender and, upon her sentencing, be granted visitation rights for Lang to come and provide blood when needed, or if, perhaps, he would take pity on her and choose to hide her in his own home, confined and cut off from the rest of the world but, crucially, from the smuggling ring’s retribution, too. Maybe, just maybe, Edgeworth could see her last words to Faraday’s daughter through to their logical conclusion and bring down Alba, and she wouldn’t even have to fear them anymore.
Her hands squeezed into his shoulders, her claws digging into them and drawing small, pinpoint drops of blood.
No. She had to stop. No more childish delusions. No more absurd, convoluted roads to a happy ending she had never deserved. It was far too late for any of that, now. She had to go through with this. There was no guarantee Alba would be caught, and if he wasn’t, he would no doubt bring his full wrath upon Shih-na for her betrayal. That meant there was only one thing to do.
Sliding her fangs out from the wound in his neck, Shih-na brought herself face-to-face with Lang. Globs of fresh blood still dripped from her mouth, falling onto Lang’s face with a splash as she grinned sadistically at him.
“I know you, Shi-Long Lang. I know everything about you. I know that if I run now, you’ll dedicate the rest of your miserable life to tracking me down. And I know you won’t ever give up. And I know you’ll find me, somehow.”
Lang snorted in amusement.
“You’re damn right I will,” he said, a proud smirk forcing its way past the obvious pain on his face. “Whatever else you might be, Shih-na, you’re still my subordinate. You’re my responsibility. And I’m not about to shirk my responsibilities.”
“Yes, yes, I’m still your precious little subordinate that you love oh-so-much. You’re so noble it hurts.”
Lang’s eyes widened and his jaw hung slightly open.
“Wh- What did you…?”
A fit of laughter overtook Shih-na, her face briefly shifting close enough to Lang’s that their lips almost grazed with every wave of it that escaped her. She knew it. She knew it, and now she had the final confirmation she needed. He had no idea how completely, utterly transparent he was. Just how long had he been hopelessly in love with his adorable vampire secretary, she wondered. How many years had he spent pining away for her by now? Was it as many as she had-
No. She had to stop them. Those feelings. Those useless, traitorous feelings that had plagued her mission to observe and hinder Lang for far, far longer than she should have allowed them, that just kept coming back, no matter how many times she crushed them to dust. This was the end for them.
“I told you,” she said, forcing her tone into one of cruel mockery. She couldn’t let even a ghost of those feelings show through. “I know everything about you. You’ll chase me to the ends of Earth, acting like we’re some tragic, star-crossed romance. Well, as lovely as that sounds… I can’t let that happen.”
As she spoke, Shih-na let go of Lang’s left shoulder, running a hand slowly down his chest. She let it rest there for a moment before lifting her hand up, her curved claws pointing back down at his chest. Her stance was low, hunching over Lang’s body like a hawk mantling its prey.
“So, Shifu, can I make one last request of you?”
“Sounds like you’re not giving me much of a choice,” Lang said, letting out a hollow laugh as he eyed her claws.
“No. I’m not. But, so long as we’re on the same page… die for me, would you?”
Shih-na didn’t wait for an answer. Instead, she stabbed the tips of her claws into Lang, then began dragging them along its breadth, slicing through what little fabric concealed his chest and leaving jagged, crimson trails in her wake. While Lang cried out in pain, she brought her other hand away from his shoulder and drove its claws into his chest as well, carving its own bloody path across his skin. She struck a third time, then a fourth, and a fifth, each attack growing faster and more erratic, warping into the wild swipes of a ravenous beast, rather than the deliberate, tortuously slow cuts she had begun with. Manic laughter erupted unbidden from her mouth, cackling in glee with each new mark she left on Lang’s body.
Shih-na shifted into an upright position to admire her handiwork. Long, crimson lines covered Lang’s chest in chaotic patterns, with not even the depths of the wounds remaining consistent. While some had merely broken the skin, teasing thin droplets loose, others had left deep gouges, evidenced by the bloodstains reaching further and further down her claws and towards her fingers. Some blood still remained, trickling down the length of her claws and dropping uselessly back onto Lang. A complete waste, and one Shih-na refused to tolerate, choosing instead to run her forked tongue along each claw and wiping it clean.
The fleeting surge of flavour each claw brought her, and the sight of more and more blood oozing from Lang’s wounds stirred a hunger the leftovers on her claws couldn’t hope to sate, and on instinct Shih-na launched herself back to Lang’s neck, biting savagely into it. Blood poured out, so very thick and delicious, and Shih-na drank eagerly of it. It felt so freeing to be able to finally drink as much as she wanted, wholly unconcerned with Lang’s survival. At last, she could consume every single drop he had to give, after years of self-imposed restraint. Besides, she may as well. This would be her last chance to taste the unique flavour of his blood. No matter how many second thoughts piled into urgent, screaming third thoughts, begging to be heard. Every lingering doubt, every conniving voice asking if it really had to be the last time be damned. All those feelings would die in this cell right alongside him, and she would be free.
As she bit into Lang, though, something brushed against her arm. Merely a fleeting moment of contact at first, quickly followed by a hand grasping desperately onto her. A casual flick was all it took to shake it off, but a moment later it returned, its grip even tighter. Another arm soon join, pushing against her shoulder. When Shih-na grabbed hold of its wrist and flung it to the side, it simply returned, grasping and jostling at whatever it could grab hold of.
Shih-na’s brow furrowed and her teeth grinded harder against Lang’s neck. What the hell was he doing, trying to fight back now? Even a buffoon like him must have realized the futility of the attempt. Besides, with the sheer number of wounds, and the blood he lost from each and every one of them, he should barely even be conscious anymore. That’s what she had wanted to happen, anyway. If Lang was still lucid, aware that she was about to deal the final blow, that left a chance, however minute, that Shih-na would falter. And she couldn’t. Not tonight. Not ever again.
Frustration mounting, Shih-na swung at Lang’s left shoulder, driving her claws straight into it like a set of curved knives. Lang growled, the pain apparent in his voice, but his resistance continued unabated. He grabbed her wrist and tried to pull the claws out himself- the sheer audacity of the attempt catching Shih-na off-guard and allowing him to succeed, her claws sliding back out of his shoulder with a sickening squishing sound.
Shih-na pulled away from Lang’s neck, glaring at the wound with a fury she didn’t think she was capable of. Malice, certainly, gleeful malice in another’s misery, but not this kind of venomous anger.
“Stop struggling. Just lay the hell down and die, Lang,” she hissed into his ear, slowly digging her claws back in to him. “You’re only making this harder.”
For who, and why, exactly, she refused to say.
Lang responded with a bark of laughter- a surprising feat for someone who should only be capable of a whimper at this point.
“Sorry, no can do,” he said. The words were slow and strained, but filled with the same ironclad conviction he had always shown before. “Lang Zi says even with another’s fangs at his throat, a wolf fights to the very end.”
Lang Zi. Now of all times. Inches from being shoved through death’s door, he’s quoting those stupid little sayings. What the hell was he thinking? Was he even thinking at all? Shih-na returned to an upright position, making sure to pin his arms down once again as she did so, and brought herself face-to-face with Lang.
He was smiling at her like he was utterly thrilled, an intense, almost manic grin pushing through the obvious pain in his eyes with what she could only assume was a brain completely drenched in adrenaline. Even pinned and pierced through by her claws, he still insisted on resisting, his arms using what little range of motion they had left to grab onto her legs. She didn’t bother shaking him off. That didn’t matter. Right now, she only cared about one thing.
“What are you giving me that stupid look for?” she said, eyes narrowing. Lang simply chuckled in response. Gritting her teeth, Shih-na swiped a claw sideways, carving another grisly trail through Lang’s shoulder. “Answer me. Now.”
“You know what else Lang Zi said?”
“No,” she replied flatly.
“Yeah, you do. I told you before. The wolf who shows his prey mercy returns to the den hungry. I always liked that about you, Shih-na. You got what you wanted, how you wanted it, no matter what. What you’ve done might be unforgivable, but even now… you’re a true wolf.”
“That’s it? Because I’m like a wolf? You must be delirious from all the blood loss.”
“Heh, well… I guess there’s a little more to it,” Lang said, and for a moment, Shih-na detected a hint of sheepishness in his tone. That was the last animal she would ever have associated with him.
“Go on.”
“What you said before, about me loving you? You got me. Dead to rights.”
Shih-na felt something hitch in her chest, despite her best efforts. Why, though? She knew this. She had known for a long time now. What difference did hearing it from his own mouth make?
“Of… course I do. It’s been written all over your face for years,” she said, forcing her tone as flat and level as she could.
“And here I thought I was keeping a tight lid on it,” Lang said. “Well, maybe I shouldn’t say this about a subordinate, but… feels like we’re pretty far past that, huh?”
“Yes. I’d say so,” Shih-na said. She was half-tempted to choke the air out of him before he could say any more. Before he made this any worse than it already was. But curiosity, ill-advised as it was, got the better of her, and her hands remained firmly in place.
“To hell with it, then. The way you’d feed on me? All ruthless, shoving me around with that blank look on your face, like you didn’t give a damn about me?” He paused, and something shifted in his expression, his eyes now openly brimming with a desire Shih-na had only seen him confine to occasional, furtive glances. “It was… pretty hot, actually.”
“It… what.”
She knew that, too. It was as obvious as it was pathetic. This wasn’t new information. And yet, hearing it put so plainly had left her dumbfounded.
“What can I say? Turns out some wolves like having a she-wolf’s fangs at his throat.” He tilted his head upwards, surveying the savaged, bloodied state Shih-na had left his chest in. “This might be even better, you know. You’ve finally let the beast inside you loose. I can tell. Sure, you’re about to kill me, but right now… I’m having the time of my life.”
For a long, excruciating moment, all Shin-na could think to do was stare at Lang, her eyes practically boring holes into his. When, at last, she spoke, she could muster only her bluntest assessment of his confession.
“You… you’re not just an idiot. You’re a total freak.”
Lang snorted.
“Guilty as charged. Good thing you’ve already got me restrained, huh?”
Stupid. Lang was completely and utter stupid, to an extent even Shih-na, after years of careful study of every facet of him, had failed to fathom. Despite her best efforts, there was still so many more depths to just how idiotic and naive and blindly trusting and kind-hearted he could be, so much more for her to learn-
Don’t do it.
Those three words cut across her thoughts and echoed over and over in her head, deafeningly loud and growing more desperate with each repetition.
Don’t do it. Don’t let him go. Kill him now, or you’ll never be able to do it.
That was right. She had dragged this out long enough by now. She should have just ripped his throat out right away and been done with it all, before her resolve had been granted this chance to waver.
Although, in truth, maybe that’s why she had let this go on so long. All the time she had spent brutalizing Lang had granted her more and more time for her resolve to crumble like a ruined castle, even as every instinct in her body had tried to prop it up and delay its collapse. And now, at the crucial moment, she was faltering.
She looked at Lang. At the proud grin he still wore, that had always been strangely reassuring to her. At the bite marks across his neck, merely the latest in a long line of feedings they had shared only between themselves. Against all better judgement, she looked at the mess of oozing crimson she had made of his chest, and she found herself thinking it was a true shame, because as crude as Lang’s phrasing had been, she sympathized. This moron of a man, strutting around playing at being a wolf with his shirt half-open, a commanding leader of his pack in public, yet such an obedient hound to her demands when they were alone, was just about the most attractive thing Shih-na had ever come across.
That, in turn, led her to think about how much better, how much easier her life had been around Lang. And then, she thought about what could happen if she really did this. What retribution Alba and the smuggling ring might rain down upon her, if they weren’t caught.
Fuck it. She’d worry about that later.
With a deep intake of a breath she didn’t truly need, Shih-na slid her hands across Lang’s shoulders, climbing up to his face and clasping gently around it. She lowered herself towards Lang, her movement sluggish, yet drawing inevitability closer towards him, as though gravity were pulling them together. When at last the distance between them had shrunk to almost nothing, Lang’s expression melted from an unflinching grin to one of open-mouthed curiosity. Shih-na’s eyes closed, and she hesitated, a lifetime of ingrained fear giving her one last chance to stop before she crossed a line she could never return from. But it was only for an instant. She had made up her mind.
She closed the final gap that lay between them and pressed her lips against Lang’s in a ravenous kiss, one that sought to make up for years of repressed desire. His lips were warm, obviously, but they stood in stark contrast to the deathly chill of Shih-na’s skin, only seeming warmer in comparison. Not for the first time that night, she felt more like a beast than a person, desperately seeking that warmth as though it would shield her from a brutal winter. What blood still laced Shih-na’s lips brought its own, unique warmth as well, trickling into her open mouth- and Lang’s, too. If he had any objection to his own blood being introduced to the kiss, he didn’t raise it. In fact, he seemed perfectly content to prolong it, his newly-freed arms wrapping themselves around Shih-na and holding her close. She had no objection to that, either.
This is what she had wanted, ever since the last time she had traded detached logic for passionate indulgence. When she had first let herself run her hand through the perfectly unruly tufts of his hair, and he had begun to hold her just as he was now, an irreperable crack had formed in what were once iron-clad inhibitions. For as much as she had tried to paper over that crack, to deny its very existence, on some level she knew that this had been inevitable. That someday, somehow, all her efforts would lead to her kissing Lang with an intensity like she were trying to suffocate him. A shame he ended up half-dead before she had reached that point.
And a greater shame, still, that it had to end. Shih-na broke off the kiss and stared silently at Lang, drinking in the sight of his dazed, half-lidded eyes and of his mouth, already curling back into a grin.
“So… feeling’s mutual, I take it?” he said.
Shih-na smirked at him.
“If you still have to ask, you really are an idiot.”
With that, she began to drag herself to her feet, Lang’s arms dropping to the ground as she moved away from him. She then walked out of the cell, each step slow and reluctant. From somewhere behind her, she heard Lang’s voice call out “Shih-na…?” She didn’t answer.
When she exited the cell, she was greeted by a red alarm set just beside its door. Shih-na heaved a sigh and slammed her hand against it, the once-silent corner of the detention center erupting into a shrill orchestra of bells and sirens.
She turned back to look at Lang. Despite all his injuries, he had somehow found the strength to roll onto his front, looking up at her with a baffled expression.
“What’re you doing? I thought you were going to kill me,” he growled.
“I changed my mind. I’m sure you can figure out why,” Shih-na said curtly. “Someone will probably find you soon, but with your injuries, it might be too late already. If you live, though… don’t come looking for me. If you find me, I won’t show mercy a second time. I really will kill you.”
Lang laughed, laboured as it was.
“You’re worse at lying than I thought.”
Shih-na’s eyes briefly widened in surprise, an unfamiliar rush of heat flowing into her cheeks. A side-effect of all the blood she had consumed, maybe.
“Or maybe being around someone as stupid as you has made me rusty,” she said, a hint of fondness slipping unbidden into her tone. “Goodbye, Lang.”
“I’ll see you again, Shih-na,” Lang said, a smile on his face and his eyes steeled with an undeniable resolve. By all accounts he should have cut a pitiful figure, laying in an ever-widening pool of his own blood, but even now, he still had the bearing of a proud wolf- bruised and broken, yet refusing to give in.
“You won’t, if you have any sense left,” Shih-na said.
She took a few brisk strides away from the cell that quickly evolved into a full-blown sprint down the corridor. She had wasted far too much time already. No doubt every guard in the center would be coming to Lang’s aid by now, and if she ran into any and had to subdue them, well… it would slow her down, wouldn’t it. And perhaps prevent them from getting Lang to a hospital in time.
Her pace unconsciously hastened at just the notion of that, and she cursed herself for how thoroughly compromised she had become. It was taking her all her willpower just to force herself to escape, of all things. Staying, turning herself in and offering her cooperation to bring down the ring had only become more and more appealing the more she had tried to deny its very presence in her mind. To leave Lang behind like this broke a heart she thought she had discarded long ago.
This remained her most pragmatic option, though, no matter how painful it may be. If Alba somehow slipped through the noose tightening around his neck, she could simply return to her old life. A cold, empty life of endless killing- but a life nonetheless. However, if Edgeworth, a man who had already systematically torn down every elaborate lie she had clad herself in, could do the same to Alba, then… that would change things. Considerably.
Edgeworth hadn’t been the only man to see right through her tonight. Lang, for as brash and ignorant and short-sighted as he could be, still had a wolf’s cunning when it counted. He was right. When the day of their reunion came- and she knew Lang would ensure it did- she had zero intention of killing him. Oh, he wouldn’t come out unscathed. Weeks, months, years, it wouldn’t matter how long it took. She would still remember the intoxicating taste of his blood, and she would happily drink her fill of it the moment he found her. And after that, well, she supposed they could pick back up where they left off here, and have some fun.
Shih-na grinned at the very thought. Boy, would they have fun.
Notes:
if there is a fourth chapter of this it will either be much more or much less thirsty for the concept of vampire shih-na. please do not assume it will be the former rather than the latter.
Chapter 4
Summary:
Five years later, Lang finally tracks Shih-na down.
Chapter Text
Five years. It had been five long years since Lang had last seen Shih-na, leaving him bloodied and on the verge of death in a dark corner of an American detention center. It was a miracle he was even still alive after what she had done to him, but it was like Lang Zi once said: a wolf never gives in, so long as he has prey to hunt. When Shih-na fled the scene, commanding him not to pursue her, Lang knew he had to live. To find the woman he had spent seven years of his life working alongside, only for the comforting reliability of her presence by his side to be ripped from him in a bloody betrayal.
And so, from the moment he had been discharged from the hospital, Lang had once again gone on the hunt. With his men taken from him and reassigned to other agents as punishment for his failure, it had been his first solitary hunt in years, although even if he had been granted his beloved pack, his pursuit of Shih-na wasn’t an official investigation, by any means. Interpol had little interest in her. As far as they were concerned, Shih-na was merely a traitor, and a damning indictment of Interpol itself for allowing her to operate unchecked for so long. Finding her and bringing her to justice would only expose their own failures.
Their disinterest was fine by Lang. This wasn’t about justice. Not this time. Even if he wanted to, he had no hope of arresting her, anyway. No, this was about little more than Shih-na herself. He wanted to see her again, no matter how long and winding the road to finding her might be, or how many forks in that road led only to a dead end and a mere whisper of her presence, the ghostly outline of some past identity long-since discarded being all he had to show for travelling it.
With the latest lead he had uncovered, however, Lang was certain he was finally reaching the end of that road- and it was pointing him home. To Zheng Fa.
Reports had been steadily trickling out of a town in eastern Zheng Fa of a string of bizarre attacks on its residents. In almost every incident, the details remained the same: in the dead of night, a nigh-intangible assailant, unseen and unheard by every victim, grabs them from behind, covers their mouth, and bites into them. The accounts often become panicked and delirious, insisting their attacker was drinking their blood until anemia caused them to lose consciousness. With the attacks consistently occurring every few nights for the past three months, locals had begun warning each other to never travel alone at night- although, of course, whether from necessity or foolishness, some still do. Curiously enough, though, no one had yet died from these attacks, and the elderly and frail of the town seemed to be spared from the assailant’s wrath.
On its own, all this was suspicious, but hardly conclusive. Strange as it was to acknowledge, Lang was well aware that if one vampire existed, there were surely others beyond Shih-na. And if Shih-na could feed on Lang for years without killing him, there must be other vampires who could exercise that kind of restraint. If that was all he could uncover about this case, he would have considered it promising, but little more than that.
Still, a wolf never ignored the scent of his prey, however faint. He had begun with a preliminary investigation of the town’s records, pouring over them for any indication of a new arrival that fit Shih-na’s description, but, as he expected, no such thing existed. If she was there, she had likely drifted in unseen, living on the fringes. With no success in the town’s records, Lang turned instead to whatever case files the local police had been willing to share with him.
It was there, deep within a dossier of interview after interview, that he found it. The single piece of evidence that convinced him. It was flimsy testimony at best, the kind no reputable court would accept- not that Lang cared too much about that, even if his rage had been slowly tempered over the years. Still, as shaky and half-remembered as it was, Lang placed all his hopes on it.
An eyewitness account. Two days before the attacks began, a man working a late shift recalled catching a glimpse of a woman he had never seen before, nor since. A woman in a black dress with long, dark hair and pale skin that seemingly shone in the moonlight, giving her an almost ethereal quality. The man reported that, for an instant, their eyes had met, and he had frozen in the face of her gaze, of her eyes that had betrayed no emotion, before she walked away, disappearing into the thick fog of night.
That woman was Shih-na. He had no doubt about that. If he went there, he would find her. His heart raced at the thought- the heart she would no doubt threaten to rip out the moment he saw her. Well, that was fine. Everyone had their own way of flirting.
Within a day Lang had taken the first flight to Zheng Fa, and within another, he was treading an unkempt path on the town’s outskirts, the carved stone barely visible beneath the overgrown weeds brushing against Lang’s legs. Supposedly, long ago, an eccentric millionaire had seen fit to construct an elaborate, western-style gothic mansion on the edge of town, its towering spires looming large over the region as though asserting it was all his domain, free for him to watch over. He had died with no heir, leaving the house to fall into disrepair, and leaving the locals with the occassional rumour that his ghost was behind the attacks, driven violent and twisted by his own maddening abode.
Truth be told, Lang knew it was absurd for Shih-na to be living here, in the decaying remains of a mansion ripped straight from the pages of some pulp horror novel. Together, they had tracked down countless criminals able to seemingly vanish off the face of the earth. Besides, he noted with a bitter pang that had never grown less potent over the years, Shih-na was an adept spy herself, remaining undetected for years. She would know better than this. It was so obvious as to be a joke.
That’s why this was Lang’s first destination. Whatever was true or false about the rest of Shin-na, it seemed she had a sense of humour, if nothing else. A fugitive vampire, hiding in what could pass for Dracula’s summer villa? In Zheng Fa, of all places, too, the homeland Lang had always kept in his thoughts? Even he had to force back a laugh at the idea. He couldn’t help but feel as though it were a sign- a knowing wink towards the only man who would be in on the joke, beckoning him back to her even after she had pushed him away. That certainly seemed like Shih-na. Unable to be honest with her intentions, even to herself.
By the time Lang arrived at the mansion’s rusting gates, the sun was already setting, bathing its crumbling stone and cracked, stained glass in a deep orange glow. For a moment, Lang found himself flung back five years, to the sight of the Babahlese Embassy going up in flames, by Shih-na’s hand. The day the disguise Shih-na had lived under for so many years was finally burnt away in turn, exposing her for who she really was. A criminal. A murderer. The exact kind of person Lang had spent his entire career mercilessly pursuing, meting out the punishment they rightfully deserved.
And here he was, walking up to her front door, his every step fuelled not by a desire for justice, but by longing. When he thought of Shih-na, he saw the unreadable blankness of her face, hovering just above his and coated in his own blood, saw the flicker of something she never dared vocalize in her eyes as she leaned in to kiss him, and he knew that, whatever else she had done be damned, he wanted to experience that again. As Lang arrived at the mansion’s doors, he chucked to himself, shaking his head. Shih-na was right. He really was an idiot. Too late to do anything about that, though.
Raising a fist, Lang banged it three times against the thick wooden doors, loud enough to ensure it would echo throughout the entire mansion. He waited a few moments, shaking off his now-slightly sore hand.
No response came. Well, when was the last time he’d conducted a raid where the suspect actually answered the front door?
He experimentally pushed on the handles and, to his surprise, the doors swung inwards, revealing a foyer draped in darkness. Long-abandoned antique furniture caked in thick layers of dust lined the walls, tables and cabinets whose many ornaments had gone unadmired for centuries. The carpet beneath Lang’s feet was thin and torn, and long, thick curtains whose hems sprawled across the carpet blocked off every window, along with any source of light. It was only the fading sunlight that granted Lang any visibility, and when he closed the doors behind him, that too was gone.
Reaching into his pocket, Lang retrieved an old, battered box of matches and struck one, the flame granting him some vision once more. It was the same matchbox Shih-na had once used, left abandoned in an obscure corner of the Cohdopian Embassy gardens and unnoticed by even Miles Edgeworth. The matchbox with which she had incinerated the embassy, and everything Lang knew along with it. In the aftermath of Alba’s arrest, Lang had discovered it, and with both Shih-na’s case and his standing within Interpol unceremoniously dropped, he’d seen little reason to submit it as evidence. So, he had held on to it instead, clutching it tightly as one of the few tangible reminders of Shih-na’s existence, of her presence in his life, however grim it may be.
Now, the light of these matches would guide him back to Shih-na, at last. Lang Zi once said the moon’s pale light reunites friend and foe alike, but Lang supposed the flickering embers of a match would have to do this time.
With the match’s dim light, Lang looked around the foyer, taking in its decreipt state. To the average observer, this place hadn’t seen a visitor in decades, if not over a century. Lang, naturally, had better instincts than that, as sharp as a wolf’s fangs, and just as relentless. While thick dust blanketed every surface of the room, small indentations in it could still be spotted like tracks in the snow. They were shallow, indicating swift, light steps, but they were there. Shih-na was there.
He studied them intently, following the tracks that appeared to be the most recent down a hallway leading to the mansion’s east wing. The state of the mansion never improved, no matter how many corners he turned or doorways into other rooms he glanced into. Suffocating clouds of dust hung in the air and toppled furniture was strewn haphazardly across the floors. Whatever Shih-na had been doing in here, she’d made little to no effort to make it any more comfortable a living space.
Eventually, the tracks led Lang out of the corridor and into a large, open dining hall, its ceiling seemingly rising to the mansion’s top floor. A chandelier hung high above him in the room’s center- unlit, of course - and the room’s own set of pitch-black, toweringly high curtains ensured no natural light could disturb its tranquil darkness. All that illuminated the room was a series of golden candelabras placed across its long dining table.
There, on its far end, at the head of the table, sat a woman, her head tilted and resting against her open palm as she stared straight ahead, seemingly at nothing. The candles lit just in front of her illuminated her unnaturally pale skin, akin to a corpse, with a blank, expressionless face to match. Her hair still rested just above her eyes in precisely cut bangs, but just as the witness had described, it was now pitch black and appeared to extend all the way down to her waist. Much like before, she wore a dark dress, though this one was considerably more elaborate than the simple, sleek outfit she had preferred for their investigations, its numerous sequins and layered frills well-suited to her new role as a spectre stalking the halls of a gothic ruin. Lang found himself wondering once again if this was all part of some long, convoluted joke of hers.
When the sound of Lang’s boots echoing off of the exposed wooden floor caught her attention, she turned towards him with eyes coloured a dull grey, rather than the intense pink he remembered, but the strange, unreadable emptyness behind them was the final confirmation he needed. That gaze could only belong to Shih-na. That gaze he had always found so alluring, its utter ambiguity fascinating him from the moment he had hired her, was trained on him again, at last.
Shih-na didn’t say anything, choosing simply to push her chair back and slowly rise to her feet. At first, Lang didn’t say anything either, his breath hitching and heart pounding at the knowledge that Shih-na was there, in front of him, after she had seemed so unreachable for so long. A part of him wanted to cast aside any semblance of pride and race towards her, pulling her into a hug like some sappy American romcom, but he imagined he’d find himself down several organs if he dared try. Instead, he did his best to regain his composure, a long, deep breath leading in to what he hoped was a confident smirk.
“Hey there, Shih-na,” he said, flicking a hand in a casual wave.
She didn’t respond, her eyes boring into him with an intensity that almost made him flinch, but he refused to look away. Not now. Not when it had been so long. His eyes remained locked on hers, and he chuckled.
“Oh, my mistake. Guessing you’ve got a new name now, huh?” He took a step forward, his stride slow and deliberate. “New look, too, I see. Not as different as I expected, though. Living in this haunted house right out of an amusement park, too? Why’s that? To make it easier for me to hunt you down? Lang Zi says the leader should never spurn the kindness of his pack, but you didn’t have to go to all that effort for me, you know. I’d have found you one way or another, Shih-na.”
Shih-na began to walk towards Lang as well, eyes unblinking and unwavering as they stared into his own. Malice crept into her eyes like a deep, ugly crimson staining a blank canvas.
“You must have your facts mixed up. I told you not to look for me, Lang,” she said. Her voice was low and venomous. “Did you really want to see me so badly that you would risk death for it? Or… do you think you can place me under arrest this time?”
Lang shook his head, his smirk widening.
“Even if I could, Interpol wouldn’t give a damn. They tossed your case out the moment I was out of the hospital. I’m here for you, Shih-na. Not for justice. Not for answers. Just you.”
“I see.” Drawing closer to him with each step, Shih-na ran a gloved hand along the table, grabbing hold of a long, ornate knife. “So you really are stupid enough to throw your life away, then.”
“Am I? I seem to recall all those threats of yours sounding pretty hollow.”
Shih-na’s eyes narrowed, and her hand tightened its grip around the knife.
“Hollow? You must have been delirious from the blood loss to think that. I was quite serious, you know.”
“Were you, now? Sure, maybe I was half-dead at the time, but… I dunno. It almost sounded like you were inviting me over. You even got us our own little den for the occassion,” he said, gesturing around the dining hall.
Shih-na came to a halt just in front of Lang, glaring up at him with a quiet, icy anger that could chill anyone to their core. In Lang’s case, however, it merely sent a chill of excitement down his spine. He was fascinated by any expression that broke through Shih-na’s mask of practiced neutrality, at the glimpse of whatever could truly be called ‘her’ that lay beneath it. Knowing what made Shih-na genuinely angry was as valuable as seeing what elicited any other emotion from her. That, and he simply found himself entranced once again by her vast capacity for violence bubbling beneath that glare.
Then, something shifted in her expression. Something softer and warmer, intruding on the edges of her cold stare.
“You truly are ridiculous, Lang. Well then, if that’s what you really want…”
With a swift swipe that Lang was barely able to perceive as a jet-black blur launching towards him, Shih-na grabbed hold of his shirt’s collar and then, without stopping, dragged him to the side, slamming him down on the dining table and leaving him laying flat on it. Lang groaned, his eyes tightly clenching shut as his head swam from the sudden impact. He heard hands hit the wood of the table, felt the hem of Shih-na’s dress brush against him as she climbed on top of him- only to then feel a cold, sharp pressure against his throat. His eyes flickered open and met Shih-na’s, now half-lidded and fond and just inches away from him as she held a knife to his throat.
She pressed the knife closer, its point beginning to pierce his skin. Her lips curled into an unsettling smile- one that didn’t seem to quite fit on her face, like a porcelain mask contorting and twisting itself to appear alive. It was as if she wasn’t ever meant to show happiness- or anything at all.
Maybe, in that moment, Lang should have been afraid. Maybe he should have concluded that he had been wrong all along, that Shih-na had been telling the truth, that she really would slit his throat any second, and that she would take nothing but delight in the act. Instead, as he processed the bizarre gap between the harsh chill of the blade she held to him and the warm affection in her eyes, his heart began to pound faster and faster, fuelled entirely by an adrenaline-soaked excitement. He grinned eagerly at her.
“Just getting right back into it, huh? You never were one to waste time, Shih-na.”
“And you were never one to think things through,” Shih-na said. “Did it never once occur to you, in all these years you’ve been hunting me down, that I really would kill you? That I wouldn’t tie up one last loose end and finally be free of you?”
“Heh, well… the thought crossed my mind a couple times. Doesn’t seem like you’re gonna, though,” Lang said. He shrugged, the motion causing her knife to slide a little further along the length of his throat.
Shih-na let out a restrained, subdued chuckle. Lang couldn’t help but wish she would unleash her real laugh instead.
“Is that what you think? I could slit your throat right this second, if I wanted to,” she said.
“Damn, five years on and you still know just what to say.” Lang slid a hand towards Shih-na, resting it against her waist. Her skin was as frigid as he remembered, even disguised underneath the fabric of her dress. “You ask me, that knife’s just here to spice things up before we pick up where we left off. That’s what you want, too, right?”
“You really think that’s what I want,” Shih-na said, her tone far too flat for it to be a question.
“Am I wrong?”
Silence hung in the air between them, as thick and heavy as the dust that permeated every inch of the mansion. The smile on Shih-na’s face vanished in an instant, her expression fading into familiar nothingness, and she stared at Lang for a long, seemingly endless moment. Her fingers shifted and fidgeted against the hilt of her knife. Then, heaving a sigh of resignation, she raised the knife high and away from Lang’s throat. A smile returned to her face, wider this time and granting Lang a glimpse of the sharp curve of her fangs- fangs he had waited to pierce his neck again for five long years. She swung downwards, prompting Lang to flinch on instinct, but when the moment of impact came, all he heard was the harsh splintering of wood. Opening his eyes, Lang turned his head to the left and saw the knife, sunk to its hilt into the table, just inches from him.
When he turned back to Shih-na, she was now even closer, her cold breath chilling his lips.
“No, Lang. You’re not wrong.” She let go of the knife, choosing instead to run her hand slowly back and forth through the tufts of his hair, like she was rewarding a puppy learning his first trick. “You’re an idiot, and a freak, and you clearly can’t let go, even when you should, but… you’re not wrong.”
Lang chuckled and smirked up at her, maintaining what composure he could even as the sensation of her fingers making their way through his hair, along with her sheer closeness, threatened to make him shiver with anticipation.
“Heh. Figured as much-“
“Stop talking.” The command had barely left Shih-na’s lips before she pressed them against Lang’s. The shock of it took Lang off guard for a split second before he happily reciporicated, his arms wrapping around Shih-na to pull her in closer. The kiss was deep and desperate, filled with a need to convey years upon years of repressed, unfulfilled desire, just as their last kiss had been. But while that kiss had been a hurried affair, everything that had been left unsaid between them rushing out like water cascading from a burst dam, eager to be set free, this one was… slower. More methodical. A lengthy, if not messy, dialogue between them, rather than a blurted out declaration. There was no need on Shih-na’s part to flee this time. Both she and Lang could take all the time they needed- and, judging by the eagerness with which she kissed him, wanted.
Lang had to admit, he was enjoying this kiss a lot more than the last one. Maybe it was the five years of longing and anticipation, building this moment up further and further in his mind until it loomed above him like a dread castle on an isolated mountain. It probably also helped that, as much as he found himself utterly infatuated with the brutality with which Shih-na had treated him, he hadn’t been forced halfway through death’s door this time around, only consciously aware of the kiss through sheer, lovestruck force of will. Besides, her slamming him onto the table like that, plus her whole knife routine- he was getting his fix of her violent side, just with less lethal consequences.
Somewhere within the delirious haze their kiss had left Lang in, he felt Shih-na slip a hand underneath his shirt, tracing it against his chest- only to freeze in place as it ran across one of the many scars now lining it. Her posture stiffened, and she pulled sluggishly away from Lang, breaking off the kiss. Shih-na stared at Lang’s shirt, then began to unbutton it, opening it up and exposing his chest.
“So many scars,” she said matter-of-factly, her neutral tone refusing to betray whether she felt remorse or pride at her handiwork. She traced a finger along one that ran across the length of his chest as she spoke. “I did this to you. And you still spent all this time looking for me instead of moving on?”
“Even if I wanted to, it’s pretty hard to forget someone when your whole chest’s covered in reminders of them, you know.”
“I suppose not.” She looked pensive as her finger swapped to a new scar, travelling along its jagged path as though recalling exactly which slice of her claws had created it. “What do you… tell people, when they ask? I imagine even you have the good sense not to try and claim a vampire attacked you.”
Lang scoffed and shook his head. “Much as I’d like to brag about having a little romantic rendezvous with a vampire, no, I don’t. Your whole case is meant to be hush-hush outside of Interpol and the precinct it all went down in, so anyone else who asks, well…” Lang chuckled. “I just tell ‘em I got mauled by a bear. Not as fun a story, but it gets the job done.”
“Oh, you found it fun? Your obsession's worse than I thought,” Shih-na said. There was a mixture of amusement and pity on her face, like she was watching a dog jump towards a treat held just out of its reach.
“Can’t deny it. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you for… damn near a decade now. Wonder who the culprit is there, huh?”
Shih-na smirked at him, clearly pleased with herself.
“Well, it’s hardly my fault that you turned out to be so… enthusiastic about vampires. One little bite and you were practically putty in my hands,” she said, her eyes wandering towards Lang’s neck with a palpable hunger.
“Oh yeah? Far as I can tell, it didn’t take long for you to get hooked on my blood, either. Act aloof all you like, we both know you’re just as into me. Why else would you practically scream from the rooftops for me to come here?”
“Oh, please. Don’t act like we’re the same.”
“You’re the one who kissed me. Both times,”Lang said smugly. “And I know you’re down for a third. And a-“
Rolling her eyes, Shih-na cut Lang off with another kiss- fleeting, this time, her lips quickly parting way with his. Once it ended, a smile that was equal parts affectionate and sinister overcame her as she spoke again.
“How about this. Clearly, you’re going to be an obsessed little puppy following me to the ends of the earth for the rest of your life. And I suppose I’m not entirely opposed to keeping a pet.”
“Yeah, yeah, keep downplaying it,” Lang interjected, earning a brief narrowing of Shih-na’s eyes.
“If you won’t behave, I won’t tell you what I’m thinking of.” When Lang kept quiet, limiting himself to a knowing grin, she continued. “Good. Now, then. Those scars on your chest. They don’t seem to bother you much, correct?”
“Nah. Lang Zi says the wolf without scars is a wolf who has never truly known the hunt.”
“Of course he did,” Shih-na said flatly. “Well then, surely you won’t mind one more scar. One that will mark you as my wolf. Free to do with as I please.”
Lang raised an eyebrow. “What’d you have in mind?”
“Your neck,” Shih-na stated. Her hand slid upward, away from his chest and resting against the side of his neck. “It’ll be nice and visible, to let any other vampires know you are very much marked territory. Besides… I haven’t eaten in days. Your neck would simply be the most efficient choice right now.”
Lang let out a laugh, then nodded his approval. Hearing her say that brought on a wave of nostalgia, the countless times she had bluntly demanded his blood over the years rushing to the forefront of his memories. After so long without that, without her, he couldn’t have refused this. Not even if it would kill him.
“What, you didn’t wanna ruin your appetite before your main course showed up? Well, maybe I’m not really responsible for you anymore, but… who am I to let you go hungry? Do it, Shih-na.”
Shih-na grinned widely, open, ravenous bloodlust on her face as she shifted her head down to his neck.
“Brace yourself. This will be more painful than usual,” she murmured, the tips of her fangs grazing Lang’s skin with every word.
“Whatever. You’ve done worse,” he said, tone flippant.
Shih-na hummed. “I have, haven’t I? Hold still, then.”
The wonderfully familiar, burning sting of Shih-na’s fangs sinking into Lang’s flesh then overwhelmed his senses, memories of better times flowing into him as fast as blood flowed out of his neck. Back when he and Shih-ma were inseperable, and he had believed with all his heart that he could trust her with his very life, every drop of blood she took from him only solidifying that trust. It was hard not to long for those days, to wish that, somehow, Shih-na had never been forced to betray him, and had stayed by his side instead.
Then again, maybe this wasn’t so bad, either. Shih-na might be a murderer, and a traitor, and filled with a darkness deeper than he could ever fathom, but… she was free. They both were. Free from the confining bonds of their work, free from the smuggling ring’s stranglehold, free to embrace the feelings they had both been forced to conceal- even if Shih-na needed some practice on expressing hers with any honesty. The circumstances were far from ideal, but still, Lang could once again see the dim outline of a future with Shih-na in it.
After all, it was Shih-na herself who had offered to mark him as hers. Surely she wouldn’t do that if she didn’t plan on staying in his life.
It was just as Lang thought this that she began to make good on her offer. Normally, once she had bitten him, Shih-na largely left it at that, content to drink whatever blood flowed from that initial wound. This time, though, she drove her teeth harder and harder into his flesh, as though she were trying to chew through a burnt hunk of meat. Lang’s skin tore in jagged, messy cuts, ones that likely wouldn’t heal cleanly. That would likely leave a scar instead.
Even as a new, intense pain assaulted him, causing him to grip tightly onto Shih-na’s waist, Lang felt immensely gratified in equal measure. Shih-na was leaving a permanent mark of the bond they shared on him- once boss and subordinate, now predator and eager prey. And unlike the scars on his chest, anyone could see this. With this, she was broadcasting to the world exactly what kind of relationship they had, like a grisly engagement ring.
With a final scrape of her fangs through his neck, Shih-na withdrew, holding her head above Lang’s once more. Her mouth hung open in a lazy, blooddrunk smile, droplets falling freely from her lips and landing on Lang’s cheeks with warm splashes. He stared up at her, his own mouth opening in awe. Shih-na had always been beautiful to him, but the sight of her covered in blood- his blood- with such clear bliss on her face granted her a disturbing radiance that left him transfixed. It was all he could do to push down the desperate urge to pull her back in and kiss her then and there.
“There… no going back now. You’re mine, Lang. Forever.” Her voice was low, but brimming with so much delight as to be unnerving.
Lang took a deep breath and tried to regain his composure.
“So… that makes it official, yeah? We’ve got something going on here, don’t we?” he said slowly, a grin already reforming on his face as each word they had both spoken sank in.
“We do. Aren’t you lucky?” Shih-na ran a bloodsoaked hand down Lang’s face as she spoke, leaving crimson streaks in her wake. “You get to feed me for the rest of your life.”
“The rest of my life, huh? What’s that look like?” Lang glanced around the dark, crumbling ruin of a dining hall they were in. Fitting for their reunion, sure, and romantic in a way, but… “There’s gotta be a better spot for it than some dingy old mansion.”
“Are you asking me to move in with you? How bold.”
“Yeah. I am. Unless you’ve got a place you think’d be better than this…?”
Shin-na shook her head slowly.
“Of course not. The closest thing I ever had to a home was with y-“ She hesitated, her eyes flicking away from his. Seeing Shih-na stumble over her words for once gave Lang a strange sense of triumph, like he’d finally spotted the one opening in a master swordsman’s stance. “The point is, I don’t. It’s not exactly a good idea for a spy to have a fixed location.”
“But you’re not a spy anymore, right? Or hadn’t you heard? After you escaped, that pretty-boy Edgeworth brought the whole ring down. You’re out of a job. Nothing saying an ex-spy can’t settle down, is there?”
“‘Settle down?’ You make it sound like we’re getting married,” Shih-na said, her voice easily slipping back into mocking confidence after her earlier fumble.
“Hey, you’re the one who wanted to put a ‘Property of Shih-na’ mark all over my neck. And what was that you said? I’m yours ‘forever?’ Sounds like you aren’t too opposed to the idea, yourself.”
“Oh, please. You’re my food, Lang. If someone labels their lunch before putting it in the fridge, that hardly means they want to marry it.”
“They don’t usually make out with it, either,” Lang retorted.
“No, I suppose they don’t,” Shih-na said with a sigh. “Fine. I’ll come with you. How is that going to work, though? However disinterested Interpol might seem in me, I doubt they’ll appreciate you harbouring a wanted fugitive.”
“Good question. Well, you already changed up your look, and a new name’d be pretty simple, but… I guess you’d still have to lay low. Keep to the den, for the most part.”
“So, in essence, you’re asking me to… place myself under house arrest.”
“House arrest with benefits,” Lang said, winking at her.
Shih-na blinked slowly, regarding him with bewilderment- then with the force of an erupting volcano, a fit of laughter overcame her, powerful enough to make her collapse on top of Lang. She buried her face into his chest, her laughter still ringing throughout the hall even as it was muffled. What Lang found unusual was the utter lack of malice in that laugh. It was almost pure in its joy, a far cry from the guttural cackling she had first revealed when Edgeworth finally cornered her. It was still unsettling, in the way most things about Shih-na were, but undeniably cute, too, in the way those very same things about Shih-na often were. He’d never seen her quite this happy before.
“With- with benefits?” she wheezed out in between bursts of laughter. “You really thought you were being so smooth there, didn’t you? And- and-“ Another bout overwhelmed her before she could continue. “The wink? Really? You’re so, so stupid, I can’t even believe it-“
“You like that about me, though, yeah?”
With a heaving breath, Shih-na expelled the final, lingering giggles before nodding.
“Of course I do. You have the biggest heart and tiniest brain of anyone I’ve ever known. It’s adorable, really.”
“Not exactly the word I was hoping for, but hell, I’ll take it,” Lang said, his elated heart fluttering nonetheless. “So, you wanna get outta here? Even my motel’s better than this dump.”
“In a moment,” Shih-na replied, leaning in close enough for her frigid lips to brush against his. “We still have a lot of catching up to do. And I suppose I wouldn’t mind cashing in on one of those benefits of yours, Lang. Although I should warn you, things could get a little… messy.”
“You don’t say.” Lang chuckled and wrapped his arms around Shih-na’s back, pulling her towards him and kissing her once more. The faint, metallic tinge of his own blood gave the kiss an odd flavour, but not one that he found unpleasant. In a way, he could see what had made Shih-na so addicted to its taste. When he broke the kiss and spoke again, his voice was low and fond. “Well, whatever my precious subordinate wants. Not like you haven’t messed me up before.”
Notes:
if there is a chapter 5 of this it will be a sign of me fully and completely falling to vampire obsession. see you in a couple months probably
KawaiiBoushi on Chapter 1 Sun 24 Dec 2023 05:36PM UTC
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tbat on Chapter 1 Sun 24 Dec 2023 06:29PM UTC
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sx (Guest) on Chapter 1 Tue 28 May 2024 07:59AM UTC
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Cyan_Dreamz on Chapter 2 Sat 30 Nov 2024 06:20AM UTC
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KawaiiBoushi on Chapter 3 Mon 26 Feb 2024 12:02AM UTC
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KawaiiBoushi on Chapter 4 Wed 17 Apr 2024 11:05PM UTC
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