Monday November 3rd 2014

Alexandra leaned against the railing of the Serpens Lacum, eyes turned to the campus. Tension thrummed through her, seen in the knotted muscles along her shoulders, and the stiffness of her soldier at ease stance. She straightened when she heard him come up behind her. They hadn’t talked since the morning they’d woken up together.

“Most people I find waiting for me are there to beat the shit out of me,” Cesare said as they walked down the steps side by side.

“Did you mean what you said the other night? About me being able to be anything I want?” Alexandra said, matching him step for step.

“Yeah.” The tension bled out of her shoulders.

“I want to be your friend.” She laughed, low and hard. “I haven't been that, no matter what I said. But I want to try again, if you’re willing,” she said with a sidelong look.

Cesare shrugged. “It's never been about me. You've had an open invitation. That's never changed, killer.” Alexandra’s lips tugged into a smile at the nickname.

“So, we’re good?” This wasn’t easy for her. The friends she’d started the year with had betrayed her. A lesser person would've turned away, huddled inside themselves and cut anyone that tried to touch the savaged remains of their heart. But Alexandra was a soldier, she had no quit in her.

“We’re good.” His smile released the last of her tension. “How’d you know this was the time I leave?”

“You’re always at your table before me so I guessed and got up early.” It made sense. It also brought home why it had been so easy for the pack to ambush him.

The early birds looked up when they walked into the cafeteria. Their eyes glided over Cesare with disinterest, even disgust, but they locked on Alexandra the way a gazelle eyes a lion. Fear at being the meat on offer fought with adoration of the vampire's singular, savage glory in their eyes.

Walking to the line, his words were quiet. “Is it always like this?”

“They should fear me. It’s not if I’d kill them, only how much I'd enjoy it. I’m exactly what they think I am, a monster,” Alexandra answered.

“Maybe.” Cesare held her eyes as he handed over a lunch tray. “But you’re also my friend.”

Alexandra took a seat next to him at the loser's table. Cesare laid his hand over hers when she reached for her food. “Do you want to say grace?”

Cold and smooth, her skin was silk left in the freezer too long. Alexandra hesitated, caught between a crawling wonder and terror that it was a joke. “Are you sure? The others hated it.”

“They were never your friends, while I never stopped being one.”

She turned away and hid her beaming smile. He couldn’t know what it was like to fight every day just to be true to God. Every minute of every day was a razor's balance between being true to her God and keeping her friends. Now she didn’t have to choose.

My Lord God, I come before you in thanks

Thank you for this food that sustains us

for your continued love and guidance

without which we’d be lost

And thank you for the friendship we’ve found

the darkness you’ve led us through.

Always and Forever

Amen

To have someone to eat with was a dream for Cesare. He luxuriated in the pleasure of it, eyes always coming back to the vampire next to him. Neither were good at small talk, they’d never had the chance to practice. Fear or disgust, it didn’t matter, the world had found them unworthy. They met each other’s eyes with an understanding only the discarded own, knowing they were where they wanted to be, with each other.

Anastasia and Blaez walked in hand in hand, their own personal army around them. Blaez might have lost the pack, but he was still a prince of the school. Anastasia's eyes widened as they fell on Cesare and Alexandra. Her sudden stillness pulled Blaez to a stop. He tracked her stare to the loser's table, eyes flashing incandescent with rage. With a touch, Anastasia had him walking again.

“He's going to try to kill you soon,” Alexandra said conversationally.

“And what happens then?” He asked lightly, with a quirked eyebrow.

She gave him a crimson thin slash of a smile. “Why don't you ask what you really want?”

“You going to stand with me or on the sidelines?” Cesare asked.

Her lips widened into a genuine smile. “I'm sitting here, aren’t I?” And maybe that was the answer. Each table was a kingdom ruled by a petty princeling. There were allies and enemies, treaties signed, and wars declared, violence seethed under peaces decayed skin with needy desire.

“I'm with you, Cesare. I’ve never been there for you, but I got your back.” He believed her. But words were lies, barbed things of air and hate, used to skin the weak. Only actions mattered.

“It's been coming for a while, what's in the wind is when and if Abraxas will back it.” He nodded toward the dragon who’d entered after Anastasia and her group.

“What do you mean?” She asked as she studied the dragon. Abraxas sat at his table with the authority of a god. Supplicants came and went at his direction, each begging for mercy, favors, or influence on their feet, none daring to sit. He ruled the school, every gesture or turn of the eye he made tightened his grip on it.

“Abraxas can't kill students. A few beatings here and there, but not murder done cold and slow. He knows I’ll have to go for the kill. Given the wolf's power, no one will blame me when I use the nuclear option.” He took a sip of his tea, eyes weighing the dragon. “When you’re in power, you have everything to lose. A wrong move will cripple Abraxas, costing him prestige and power. While winning can only sustain him. I can’t fall any lower, so I have nothing to lose. Anything I gain, I take from his flesh. There's no profit in taking me down, that’s why he’ll leave me for as long as he can. Even if he's forced, he won’t do anything to hurt me.”

“Why?” Alexandra asked.

“He tried it, and I turned it around on him. It got me sparring partners and an angle to work with Anastasia. He knows I'll use the nuclear option and that won't look good for him—even if he wins. He’s supposed to keep the peace, not start a war. No, violence isn’t an option ... but he can't control the wolf.” Alexandra watched him with a thoughtful look.

“So, he won't back Blaez?”

“Don't know. Lots of reasons not to, but that's all they are, reasons. People do stupid shit. He's no different. But I think he’ll leave it and try to cut my support. He has every advantage. He doesn't need to come out breathing fire, he can bleed me out and never lay a claw on me.”

“What would you do?” Alexandra asked.

“Not have an uncontrollable wolf as part of my team would be first,” Cesare said dryly. “Loyalty’s more important than raw power in a team. Blaez is a loose cannon. Abraxas thinks he can direct that fury, but if Blaez can’t control it, I know for damn sure Abraxas can’t. I’d pull Blaez off and make peace, get it settled so I could keep my power without a fight. But with Blaez in the mix, that's impossible.” It was the last thing he wanted. No, he needed the Thagirion to keep pushing.

They left the cafeteria under the glares of her former friends. Walking to class with her was different. So different that he had to question it. “You’re sure you’re okay getting to class early?”

“Doesn't matter. I know you get to class early so that works for me. Besides, I don't have anywhere else to be.” She stopped, her face coloring. “That came out wrong. What I meant is there’s nowhere else I want to be.”

He wasn’t insulted, the only reason she was here was because she’d lost everyone else. He was the only island in a sea of hate, the last place she wanted to be was the only place that would have her. That he was her last choice didn't make her friendship mean any less.

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow on seeing them enter together. He was as surprised as Elizabeth when Alexandra took the seat next to him, already setting her books on the desk.

Alexandra looked over her homework. “Cesare, what did you ...?” Her eyes moved over his paper, her words going quiet. “You should have asked me. I didn't know you were so far behind.” He frowned, pushing down the burst of shame that burned through him. He’d made the best choices he could, he wasn’t ashamed of putting the life of a friend before his homework.

Alexandra moved her desk next to his, joining them together. Looking to Elizabeth, her words were quick. “How much time do we have?”

Elizabeth answered sadly. “Maybe 45 minutes until we start.”

Alexandra didn’t waste the time. They moved over the problems one by one, her attention locked on him with a predator's focus. She did her best, but time quickly ran out. “How did you get so far behind?” Alexandra asked.

Unwilling to answer the question, he straightened out his paper and kept his head down. “It's the training he does with Anastasia,” Elizabeth said quietly. “I'm sorry Cesare, but your grades have continued to fall, and they weren't that high to begin with.”

“We could meet after school and study,” Alexandra offered.

Elizabeth answered for him again. “He won't. He won't save himself at Anastasia’s expense. He’ll dress it up with self-interest, but it doesn't matter. He won't cut her training.”

Alexandra studied his face before giving a slow nod of understanding. “Okay. Let’s take that off the table. Are you willing to work on this?”

“Yes.”

“We can meet before breakfast and study. We can work while we eat.”

Cesare shared a smile with the vampire, hiding the vulnerable feeling that whimpered its fear. “Thanks.”

Alexandra watched the plastic bitches come in. They may have hurt her, but she’d kill them before she feared them. She’d been hurt yesterday. Today, not so much. They froze under her deadly stare, paling as they realized the immunity they'd counted on was dead. The kitten they thought they could torment with impunity slipped off its mask, revealing the cruel hunter underneath. Her gaze tracked them as they scurried to their seats with hunched shoulders.

Alexandra kept her desk joined to his, voice quiet as she helped him with the classwork. Elizabeth didn’t have the time to give him the extra attention he needed when she had a class to teach. More often than not, he left class with more questions than he’d started with. When the lunch bell rang, Cesare felt—if not confident—at least not so lost.

Alexandra gave him a questioning look as he slowly put books into his bag. “I need to talk to Miss Raven for a few minutes.” Alexandra shrugged, unconcerned. “Can you wait outside? I won't be long.” Alexandra frowned slightly, giving the two of them a close look before closing the door behind her.

“You want to tell me what’s going on?” Elizabeth asked.

“We talked while you were playing babysitter for the Samhain Ball. She showed up this morning and said she wanted to be friends.” He liked Elizabeth, but a friend’s secrets were their own.

“Uh huh.” Amusement saturated the sound.

“You don't believe her?” Cesare asked.

“Not at all. I’m sure she’s telling the truth. I only wonder what else she’s looking for.”

Cesare laughed softly. “She's Catholic. She's married to God, men are a distant second.”

“I'm glad she’s helping you. I wish I could do more ...” Elizabeth looked out the window and away from Cesare.

“You do what you can.”

“And it’s never enough. I tried to get you a tutor, but the Mistress said you needed to live and die on your own. And you shot down my idea of teaching you on the weekend,” Elizabeth said.

“You know why.”

“I know the reason you gave.”

“If you taught me on the weekend, I’d be your student instead of your friend. It might seem a small thing to you but it’s not to me.” Cesare explained.

“I don’t see you as my student. I just see you.” Elizabeth sounded like she meant it, but she never turned away from the window.

“You’re happy with her helping me?” Cesare didn’t want to fight.

“Her and Anastasia fight for the top spot in class. At least I don't have to worry about you getting the wrong information.” Elizabeth gave him a look. She knew what he was doing and was willing to go along with it.

“Or me dragging her down,” Cesare added.

She nodded. “Or you dragging her down. Besides, I think she needs a friend as much as you need her help.”

Alexandra leaned against the far wall while she waited for him, while Anastasia had claimed a spot next to the door directly across from the vampire. The girls glared at each other across the few feet that separated them. Turning in unison, they leveled their glares at him. The harem eyed the girls uneasily from down the hall. Like rats, they faded into the background as the cats faced off.

Cesare walked between the two without a look. He had lunch, and it would take more than God’s Butcher and the Lady of Ruin to keep him from a meal. The girls fell into step with him as he passed.

“We still on for tonight?” Anastasia asked.

Her eyes were dark with hidden thoughts. “Of course.”

“Just wanted to make sure. Looks like a lot’s changed today,” Anastasia said.

“Shouldn't you be petting your dog?” Alexandra asked.

A tight smile crossed Anastasia's face. “Sometimes I need to talk to Cesare about training. Blaez gets that.”

Alexandra bared her teeth in the bastard brother of a smile. “You mean the time when you use him as a punching bag? A disposable toy for your sluts to play with.” Anastasia's smile vanished, a dangerous rage roared to life in her eyes. “That's what everyone says.” Alexandra eyed Cesare. “They think you’re her slave. A live target she beats for kicks and profit. There are bets on when she’ll get bored and finish the job the Thagirion gave her. They say the reason you're not part of her harem is because you're good enough to warm her feet but not worth bedding.”

It wasn’t any worse than what they’d thought before. What was another insult piled on top of all the others? But no matter how he dressed it up, it still hurt to know that’s how the school saw him.

Anastasia quickly changed the subject. “So, you have a tutor now?”

Alexandra moved smoothly into his silence. “If he had time to study, he wouldn't need a tutor, but he refuses to cut your training short.” Alexandra had fallen into an easy, dangerous walk, green eyes hot with malice. Anastasia could only hold her eyes for a brief second before flushing and looking down.

“I didn't know ... if I had ...” Anastasia trailed off.

A low, hard laugh came from Alexandra, jagged with spite. “You’d have left him to drown.” Anastasia's head snapped up with a glare. “I'm not blaming you. At least, not for that. I wouldn't have done anything either if I’d known last week.”

Cesare's quiet words stopped them. “It was my choice. I don't regret it and I never asked for anyone's help. I appreciate your help Alexandra, but I've been making my own choices and fighting my own battles for a long time. I don’t need rescuing.”

Anastasia walked away when they got to the lunchroom, too caught up in her thoughts to say goodbye. Unprepared and off balance, she’d been cut to ribbons in a fight she hadn’t known was coming.

“I didn't mean to hurt her,” Alexandra offered after they’d sat down at his table.

“If you do that when you’re not trying, remind me not to piss you off. Let’s call a spade a spade. You meant to hurt her, and you did. But that's between you guys.” He popped a tater tot into his mouth. “She's not my girl, and even if she was, she can fight her own battles. I said I don't need rescuing and you two sure as hell don’t.” He caught her eyes with his. “I won’t choose between you. Not for her, and not for you.”

“I thought she was your best friend. You spend all your time with her.” It was more question than statement.

“I don't have a best friend. You’ve got a problem when you rate your friends like boy bands. Friends deserve better. As long as you don't kill each other, I'm good.” He paused with a grimace. “And Alexandra, you were right. She wouldn't have helped me.”

Anastasia had everything she wanted for free, she wouldn't start paying now. It was good business, the thinking that made empires.

Helping him would out her as his friend. She’d lose followers by the dozen, his friendship tainting the image she was crafting. That it hurt him didn't matter, he was only a bit player, not an investment. The world is full of losers who make shit choices because of feelings. Winners make choices based on facts and cost, and Anastasia was a winner.

Alexandra met him in the hallway after he finished his last class. Together they cut through the mass of students fleeing school. He was used to the disgusted looks they threw him, the recoiling when they realized he’d gotten close to touching them.

Alexandra lived in a world as different as she was from him. She was a liquid tiger that stalked the halls, surrounded by walls of terror and a barbed fence of madness. The kids watched her with the focused eyes of the hunted. They were nothing but meat to her, and they knew it.

“You have training?” She asked as they reached the doors to the campus.

“Yeah, she usually meets me at the stairs,” Cesare said, as he pushed the doors open. For the first time in a long time, the stairs were empty. Either she’d called off, or she was at the training area.

“Mind if I walk with you?” Casually asked, but something important moved under the words.

“Sure,” Cesare answered.

“What would you have done?” It could only be about her sister.

“It was a trap from beginning to end. You don't leave a body like that without a reason,” Cesare said.

“But what did they gain? Me killing a bunch of Umbrae Lunae goons and some humans? Why would that matter to them? None of them were important.”

“You’re thinking they won. Not every plan's successful and of those that are, sometimes you don't get all of what you want. Killing your sister was one objective. You were the most probable target after your sister, since your father was gone,” Cesare said.

“But if they wanted me dead, why didn't they ambush me?” Alexandra asked.

“They didn't know how much they’d need to put you down. Maybe the secondary objective was to feel you out, see how much of a danger you were. Get you to show what you can do when you're going all out.”

“And it showed I'm a fucking psycho.”

“Every ten-year-old's a psycho. Every playground is Darwinism on meth. A ten-year-old will take an axe to their brother’s head for a cookie. They have the moral fiber of starving hyenas. Even Alexander the Great didn’t have a tactical mind at ten. They got your dad to sideline your training, to cut you off from your potential, crippling and maiming what you could have been. When he turned his back on you, they got what they wanted,” Cesare said.

There wasn’t anything he could say to comfort her. The ambush had worked, and the Order had lost. It wasn’t her fault, but that didn’t change the barbed guilt that wound around her heart.

“So, they won.”

“That’s up to you.” Bitterness etched lines into her face, a feral landscape of wrath. “They think you're crippled. You get to decide if that’s how the story ends.”

They walked in silence along the forest path. Anxiety tightened into a ball in Cesare’s stomach at the thought of Anastasia not being there. When they turned the corner and Anastasia came into sight along with her harem, a silent sigh ghosted from his lips. Alexandra's hand gripped Cesare’s shoulder, stopping him in mid-step. Anastasia’s eyes narrowed as they locked onto the contact.

“You think I can be more than just a killer?” Her hand held him. Flesh and blood, it was a little wider than most men's, callouses made it more leather than silk. But it contained the power to rend muscle from bone. He wasn’t going anywhere until she let him.

“You can be what you want. You’ll always be a killer, a tiger will never be a vegetarian. But what else do you want beyond that?” Cesare asked.

She let him go before she turned and walked away with thoughtful eyes. It was hard to realize how much of life was self-actualized. She could be anything she wanted, if she was willing to bleed for it.

Anastasia whirled and stalked into the training area. Even as mad as she was, she waited until he was close enough to shield her from the wards malignant appetites. She was pissed, not stupid.

She whipped around with a scowl. “I thought this was our place.”

“Actually, it's my place.” He met her angry eyes calmly. “It was made for me. I like you being here, but let’s keep things in perspective.”

“Fine, it’s your special place, and I’m just buying time. What gives with the vamp bitch? You guys going out now?” Anastasia demanded.

“No. But if we were, it wouldn't be your business.”

Anger flared, exploding into violent fury in an instant. She slid forward. A low sidekick ripped toward him, quick and hard enough to break his knee. The moment crystalized into focus. His thoughts fell away, coldness rushing into the void they’d left. Lifting his leg above her low kick, Cesare extended it into an angle kick that smashed her face. The impact rocked her back and out of her stance.

Rebounding, she moved in, angry enough to forget the other spars they’d had. Her anger blinded her from seeing the moment. Body tight, she threw a jab, fast and sharp. Cesare’s fingers pushed it gently to the side. The opening called to him, pulling him into the pocket that the jab opened in her guard. With a burst of power, Cesare flew forward, knee hammering her ribs. It wouldn't hurt her, but the force tossed her back.

A feint at his face moved Cesare into position for her right cross. He let it pass in front of his face. His kick slammed into her ribs, lifting her off her feet and into a sideways shuffle.

She surged back into the fight with a barrage of jabs. A smoke screen of flesh and temper without any intention of landing. Her feet settled, power gathered in hips, multiplied by a core of steel, and exploded in a sidekick. Moving into it was the key. The power of a strike is at its zenith when potential turns into punishing force. Until that point, it’s still gathering power. He came in close, hands clamping around her foot, breaking the power of the kick.

He twisted her foot, tearing her stance from her, and let the leg go as quickly as he’d grabbed it. Retaliating, she threw a horizontal elbow as she tried to carve out room to maneuver. A thousand clues came to him in a rush, forming the moment he lived in, keeping him one step ahead. Cesare moved under the elbow, laying into her ribs with a cracking blow. Air whooshed out of her.

Anastasia lifted her knee as she stepped back, need for space turning into desperation. Cesare slid to the side, body uncoiling a hammering elbow to her jaw. He twisted his body, the second elbow cracked into her chin, slid off bone and sliced across her face. Dazed from the jarring impacts, Anastasia woozily stumbled back. Cesare darted forward, knee crunching into her face. She hit the ground with a thump, eyes dilating wildly from the back-to-back concussions.

If you can’t hurt a monster, don’t try. Daze and confuse them, throw them off balance. The Umbrae Lunae healed in minutes what would kill a human, they shrugged off hits that would put a man down. But they were still creatures of meat, they needed balance to fuel the power of their strikes, depended on their eyes to see their target’s, with brains as delicate as any mammals.

It only lasted seconds, just long enough for her homicidal rage to lift. Anastasia met his eyes from the ground without shame. It was something he admired about the Umbrae Lunae, the purity of their anger.

They embraced the violence of their souls, drinking from the well of rage without the shame that infected the civilized world. Humans fear the fury of their souls, building walls of lies and reason to chain it in the darkness of their hearts. They pervert its beauty into something sick and twisted, humiliating it with every word, degrading it with the poisoned promises of peace. A caged dog, stuffed in a hole with its own filth, teeth rotted with diseased hate. Of course it bites the hand that feeds it.

“I wish I knew who trained you.” It was her constant complaint since he started winning. He’d moved beyond the harem, they just weren’t worth his time. Anastasia had stepped in and gave him a spar every other day to keep her end of their deal.

She was strong and fast, riding the edge of human without stepping over it. She’d dead lift at about 400, stronger than ninety-five percent of professional power lifters. But without the mass to slow her down. If she trained in hand-to-hand, she could break the limits of human but she wasn’t willing to take her focus off the Ebon Flame.

Cesare shrugged the complaint aside. “We good?”

She watched him without the anger that had twisted her eyes. “I don't like her.”

“Not asking you to. She's my friend, not yours.”

She shook her head. “She's dangerous, more than you can know. This ... Christian thing she’s pushing, we’ve kept a lid on it but it's boiling up. Something will snap, someone will die. She can take care of herself but if you’re with her ... they won't care if you’re Christian and she won't protect you.”

He couldn’t face an Umbrae Lunae in full form, they’d kill him without even noticing. “You won't step aside. It's who you are but, just for me, think it over. She's never been your friend before. You've only met her a few times. I know you need to succeed here. Don't throw that away trying to help someone who doesn’t need your help.” She pushed forward as he hesitated, sensing his surrender. “We can find a tutor for you.”

It was that small bit that tipped the balance. “But not you?”

Anastasia wouldn’t, couldn’t, meet his eyes. “No. I spend all my time with you anyway and Blaez has come a long way in accepting that. If I started helping you with ... well, it wouldn't go down well. I thought when Abraxas called off the beatings, we’d be able to hang out together. But then everything went down with Blaez and his pack.” She took a deep, shaky breath. “It's not that I don't want to help you, I do.”

Cesare finished for her. “But if you helped me, you’d upset your boyfriend. You’d lose credit with your fans if you hung out with the school’s loser.”

He’d bled to get her to this place. The school worshipped her second to none, beautiful, powerful, rich. With two mythic fights behind her, she was everything they wanted to be. She owned their adoration, while Abraxas only held their fear. If the school had a vote tomorrow for who’d lead the Thagirion, she’d take it without trying. It was only the start of what Cesare had planned for her, but each step closer to being a goddess took her further from being his friend.

Despite it being part of the plan, it didn’t make it hurt any less. Blaez meant more to her than him failing, and her lust for fame meant more than both of them together. She used anything she could twist to fill her needs. He was an asset, to be used and thrown away when it no longer paid. That was the foundation of their friendship, and all the lies they’d spread over those rotten bones couldn’t change.

Sighing, he let it go. She couldn't change, and he wouldn't. Supremely selfish, centered on her own gain with a sharks give a fuck, she was still his friend. She was also an integral part of his plan. To walk away from her would ruin him. Maybe they were excuses, each a justification to stay by her side. Maybe it had been that from the beginning, but it didn't matter now.