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Kylo frowned, hunched in front of his open refrigerator, and tried to will food to appear. Despite the insistence of his stare, the shelves remained empty, as did the crisper drawers beneath them.
If he wanted to eat, he’d have to go out.
Heaving a dramatic sigh, the ghoul straightened, slapping the door shut. He reached for an industrial bucket on the counter, tipping it forward with a glance. All that was left in it were a few scraps of intestines and a clotted blood slick. Sullenly, Kylo dumped the sludge into his mouth, draining the bucket like a milk carton. He was still hungry when he finished, but the taste would tide him over until he got to the market.
Scratching at his chest, he wandered towards a pile of clothes. There were a number of them strewn across the floor, and by the time he finished poking around, he had managed to dress himself. Despite his two years of residency, the loft he lived in was bare, the exposed brick and wood floors largely unadorned. Grabbing his keys, Kylo swept a final glance over it, checking that he had what he needed, and left the space to its silence.
----
The day was gray and brisk, biting color into Kylo's cheeks as he walked the six blocks to the Market. He could smell the lot before it came into view: a familiar blend of foods and wares that always made his nose itch. It was undercut by the musk of living bodies, both human and nonhuman, all bustled together.
Hands shoved into his pockets, the ghoul nodded to the security guards standing at the entrance, grateful that his status as a regular shopper allowed him in without hassle. He stepped beyond the roadblock and began to trek through the crowd.
The Market was a two mile stretch of commerce that catered to a diverse spectrum of life. There were booths for fang cleaners and mandrake pots, bottled will-o-wisps, and racks of salted dragon tongue. From apothecary to crypt cleaning, the plaza carried an abundance of ingredients and sundries, making it one of the most popular spots in the area. Passing by a stall of spider silk, and taking a moment to admire the embroidery on a pillow stuffed with harpy feathers, Kylo idled his way through the bazaar.
The mix of life was part of what had brought the ghoul to the city in the first place. He enjoyed the easy rhythm of the Market, the way humans mingled with the otherworldly, and how everyone flocked together to haggle and shop. A deep breath filled his nose with the grease of chicken, cooking at a food stall, and the tang of herbs from a medicinal vendor.
The shop Kylo needed was towards the middle of the lot. There, freezer chests were stocked with limbs and organs, each conveniently packed for hungry monsters on the go. The ribs they sold were second to none, and their skull caps always came with enough brain to make the delicacy seem worth the price. Although expensive, the butcher was an indulgence Kylo had come to allow himself, particularly on days when he’d was tired of cemetery fare.
Picking his way down the lot, he dodged the umbrella of an oblivious vampire, and was nearly to his destination when the first whiff hit him. Pausing, the ghoul looked around, unsure where it had come from. The smell was unfamiliar, threaded in with the perfume of the market. Curious, Kylo turned his face, his nostrils flaring as he sniffed. This time, the smell slapped him full on, lush and warm. His chest rumbled, startling a passerby, and saliva rushed into his mouth. He could feel his gums receding, making the barbs on his tongue prickle, and knew from the change in his vision that his pupils had shrunk.
Without thinking, the ghoul began to move forward, driven by an impulse he couldn't describe. His stomach knotted, his appetite suddenly voracious, and reminded him of just how long it had been since his last hunt.
After a few minutes of searching, he finally found his source.
The man was standing at a parchment booth, the red of his hair bright against the layers of his clothes. He had a backpack on, and was responding to something the vendor had said, the corners of his mouth quirked into a smirk. His scent slammed into Kylo like a wall, vital and blood hot, enticing the ghoul into sensory overload. He concentrated, listening to the flutter of the redhead’s pulse. When he stepped away, moving to a different table, the ghoul slipped after him.
Careful to keep his distance, Kylo followed the redhead through the marketplace, watching him as he browsed. From his pace, it was apparent that he had finished his actual shopping and was merely idling as he exited. He led Kylo through the south-end of the bazaar, his steps casual, and out into the neighboring avenue. After a while, the ghoul realized that the other had also come by foot, journeying over sidewalks much like Kylo had.
Together, they wove across the city, passing through districts, until the buildings began to stack on top of each other. Trash skewed the gutters and the roads became a spiderweb of asphalt, as pockmarked and faded as everything else. Eventually, the redhead turned down a tenement block, where the buildings were belted with fire escapes and strung together by clothes lines. He disappeared between two of them, and Kylo stalked forward, aware that the alleys opened on both ends, and that he could easily lose the other if he strayed. The air was oily, stinking from an overfilled dumpster. Boldly, the ghoul pressed forward, his jaw flexing as he prepared to unhinge it.
“Hey there.”
Shit.
Slipping into the darker shadows, Kylo pressed his back against the brick of the building. Silently, he crept forward, trying to see who the redhead was speaking to, and whether or not he could take them both at once. He discovered the other crouched by the trash, digging through his backpack.
Around him, over half a dozen cats had gathered.
He could tell by their coats that they were strays, probably living in the alley. Some of them were obviously veterans, scarred and unfriendly, skulking around for food, while others looked newly abandoned. All of them were swarming, rubbing against the redhead or slinking across the bin.
Kylo felt his lip curl. How he hated cats.
Or, more aptly, how cats hated him . There was something in his pheromones that seemed to set them off, some sort of indicator of what he was that immediately garnered hissing and yowls. He wouldn't make it two steps before they announced his arrival like a deranged chorus. It wasn't worth the risk.
Gritting his teeth, Kylo pulled back, dimming his presence, and waited while the redhead dished out food, checking bowls, and finally zipped his bag. He stood to an array of mewls, the low rhythm of his voice carrying out through the space. When he headed back towards Kylo's end, the ghoul went unnaturally still, watching as he passed by, oblivious to just how close he was to danger.
Inside, the building smelled musty and dank, its staircase warped with age. To the ghoul's advantage, there didn't appear to be working electricity. They climbed to the top floor, Kylo's ears perked for any indication of the other tenants. There was a crying child on the second story, and scuffling movement scattered around the complex. When they reached the final landing, he was pleased to realize they were alone, and that all of the apartments on either side of the redhead’s were silent and still.
Anticipation coiled in Kylo's gut.
This close, only a few feet away, he could smell the other with each breath. The aroma was rich on his tongue, caught against the barbs, and Kylo felt his saliva begin to thicken. By the time he was tearing into his first mouthful, his drool would be viscid and pungent, filled with enzymes that would help him break down his meal. He swallowed the first rush. Soon enough, he'd be producing too much to do anything but slobber.
The redhead jangled his keys into the lock. Had he looked back, he would have found a figure lurking in the stairwell, watching him with yellow eyes, incandescent, like old nicotine stains. They were tracking him with tight, ecstatic pupils, and looming in the shadow. Had he listened, he might also have gotten the impression of a creaking jaw, or heard a soft patter – one drip, two – and wondered what it was.
But he didn't look. He merely opened his door, feeling around for a lightswitch that wouldn't work, and stepped inside.
With a thrill, Kylo let his jaw unhinge, and slunk forward to accept the unwitting invitation.
Unlike the rest of the building, the redhead's apartment smelled oddly acrid – like bitter herbs and dusty books. It was also airy, as if he were prone to leaving the windows open. The ghoul prowled forward, honing in on the thrum of a heartbeat. He found his quarry standing in the middle of the space, his back to Kylo as he looked at something just ahead. His scent was everywhere, lingering in barely there traces that sent a hot ache through the ghoul.
It only intensified when he realized the other had removed his scarf, baring the nape of his neck. He was filled with the overwhelming need to drag his tongue across it – to lap at the tender skin, rasping until he was rewarded with a rush of blood. For a moment, he imagined sloughing off layers, licking him to the bone, and how the insides of his cheeks would be soaked with the taste when he finally clamped his teeth around a vertebrae.
Kylo stepped forward, his drool brimming with renewed volume. His jaw stretched, gaping as his hind teeth dropped and lined his mouth in two powerful rows. Blood lust drenched his focus. In a single moment, his entire biology synced, shifting him into an apex predator ready to feed.
Kylo lunged.
The room lunged back.
One minute, he was striking, muscles coiled and teeth bared. The next, the redhead was facing toward him, and Kylo's feet were gone from under him. He went down hard, his head smacking into the floor, while an unseen tether yanked on his ankles, stringing him up from the ceiling. It was over in a matter of seconds.
Stunned, the ghoul dangled in the aftermath, trying to blink the drool from his eye. Thick strings of it were caught over one of his brows, in his lashes, and had flung around with his crash. His body was swaying, his face growing mottled. As he lulled, trying to reorient himself, he caught sight of the doorway, the image slow to focus, and blearily recognized the markings on the wall as a sigil.
His brain clicked.
“You're a witch ?” Kylo spat, torn between disbelief and annoyance. His mood was little helped by the realization that the redhead hadn't just known he was there, he had been the one to ensure Kylo could even get into the apartment. The bastard hadn't been feeling around for a light switch – he had been deactivating a ward.
The redhead smirked, lifting his brows, “Clever, aren't you.”
Snarling, Kylo thrashed in the binds. He was hanging upside down in a snare-hex, his arms immobilized behind himself. The air was hot and dense, galvanized with magic.
“You're not very subtle, you know.” Reaching for his bag, the redhead began rooting around, apparently unperturbed by the large, ghoul-shaped pendulum swinging furiously in his direction, “I felt you following me all the way back at the market.”
The reminder of the Market, where he had first been drawn to the other, sent a new fury through Kylo, “Is that why you smell so good?? Some kind of bait spell?” Ridiculously, this, more than anything, was what he found himself upset about. The idea that his reaction to the other was merely concocted seemed beyond intolerable.
When the witch stood, his hands were filled with empty bottles, and his face was perplexed, “What?”
“Your smell-”
“I didn't alter it.”
Relief bloomed in his stomach, and was quickly followed by a flash of temper, “I don't know what you're trying to pull here -”
“Don't be dramatic.” The redhead scoffed, uncorking a few of his vials, “I'm not the one who followed me home. I'm just taking advantage of the unexpected resource.”
A sliver of apprehension needled at Kylo. Some witches, he knew, had even sharper teeth than ghouls.
As if sensing his assumption, the redhead looked over, rolling his eyes and indicating the puddles on the floor, “Your saliva. I just want your saliva.”
Eyebrows arching, Kylo didn't respond, but calmed his struggle as the other leaned over and began collecting. The vials were made of thick, colorful glass, and the witch worked carefully to fill them, “Ghoul saliva is surprisingly versatile.”
“I find it useful, yes. ” At the snark, the other shot him a look, but didn’t pause what he was doing. In no time, he had resealed two of the five bottles. There was something almost lulling about watching the redhead work, even in the extreme of the situation. His hands were slender and deft, maneuvering through the task with ease. In the close proximity, his scent was inescapable.
After a while, Kylo began to zone. With the other kneeling so close, he was tempted to swing himself forward – contemplated head butting him or snapping his face between his teeth. Then the witch leaned up, just slightly, and his mouth was near enough for the ghoul to jerk forward and kiss. He stood before Kylo could act, pulling out a handkerchief and wiping the saliva from Kylo's eye, which had begun to sting.
Returning the cloth to his pocket, the witch stood back, his expression thoughtful.
“I don't suppose...” He trailed, dropping a pointed look to Kylo's teeth. Despite the fact hind teeth were regularly shed, Ghouls were possessive creatures, and their teeth a pride point. They weren't easy to procure, let alone for a decent rate.
Kylo stared in mounting outrage.
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
“I have pliers-”
“ No! ”
The witch let out an exasperated breath, folding his arms, “To be fair, you were going to eat me. I don't think a few teeth are a lot to ask.”
“I wasn't -” But he snapped his mouth shut, suddenly embarrassed. He had been planning to eat the other. At least, part of him had. Somehow, though, Kylo doubted the witch would find being chewed on as seductive as the ghoul did. To his own horror, Kylo felt his face heat.
“Oh? ” It seemed unfair that a raised brow could be so condescending, “You just stalk random people through the city and break into their apartments for fun, then?”
Kylo scowled, his temper flaring, “At least I don't go around hexing people .”
The witch gaped.
“You tried to ingest me.”
“ Well-”
“ - followed me around like a creep -”
“ That's -”
“- and drooled all over my floor .”
It was hard to appear lofty when one was hanging upside down, but Kylo tried anyway, sniffing disdainfully, “Anyone can make it sound crass.”
He was startled by a bullet of laughter, and swung his attention back to the redhead, who eyed him as if he wasn't sure what to make of Kylo.
“You're a pain in the ass,” He quipped, but the corners of his lips were curling, and Kylo flashed him a grin, unreasonably pleased with himself. His pulse quickened when the expression slid into the same enigmatic smile from the Market.
For the first time in a long time, the ghoul realized the shudder of blood he was hearing was his own.
The feeling quickly faded when it became apparent the witch was going to leave him there. Tucking the bottles back into his bag, the redhead grabbed a book from the shelf and slung his pack over his shoulder.
“Well, as fun as this has been,” He drawled, redoing his scarf and lifting the window, “I've got a schedule to keep.”
“Hey, wait!” Gawking, Kylo jerked against his binds, glaring as the redhead began to climb through, “Get me out of this thing!”
“So you can tear out my throat?” With a snort, the witch straddled the sill, landing one foot on the platform just below, “I don't think so.”
His smirk was unapologetic as the ghoul hissed and cursed, struggling with fresh violence, “You can't just leave me here!”
“I'm sure you'll figure a way out.”
“I swear to fucking god -”
But the redhead was already vaulting from the ledge, leaving him alone with a parting salute and a wry, “Take care, drool boy.”
For the next few minutes, Kylo gnashed and fought, until finally he felt the hex give. By the time he managed to free himself, lunging down the fire escape, the witch was gone. He tried to catch his scent, turning about almost frantically, but the stench of the alleyway was too overpowering.
“Fuck!”
Growling, Kylo slammed his fist into the staircase, spooking a group of nearby cats. The space was still full of them – even more so, now that the redhead had replenished the food supply. They began to yowl and hiss, spitting at him with flat ears. Lips pulling back, the ghoul snapped his teeth, only mildly appeased when they scattered.
Witches were notoriously transient. They often lived in multiple dwellings strewn across the area, and never stayed in a single place for long. From the dilution of his smell, the apartment was one the redhead had already abandoned, or at the very least, one he didn't frequent. Waiting for him to come back would be futile.
The ghoul scowled.
There were places he could search, of course - the old train yard, where dilapidated box cars had been turned into shanties, or the factory block. In his experience, witches preferred to conduct their matters without scrutiny. Still, if he wanted to, the redhead could make himself impossible to find. A sudden urgency filled Kylo at the thought of never seeing him again. Whatever his pull was to the other, he wasn't sure he was ready to let it go.
He looked towards one end of the alley, and then the other.
With a split-second decision, the ghoul took off, heading toward the road they had arrived on. If he could catch the redhead's scent, he could find his trail.
Behind him, perched on the dumpster lid, an orange tabby watched him go. Unlike the others, the feline seemed unperturbed by his presence, its tail flicking lightly as it waited. When he turned, disappearing from sight, the cat jumped down, posture smug, and sauntered off in the opposite direction.