Thursday February 19th 2015

Cesare set the last book in his duffel bag before giving a look to the girls. Grimly, they met his eyes as ready as they were going to get. They stood as one, the girls in tune with him on a level that didn't need words. Crossing across the little kingdoms the students had carved out of the lunchroom, the Furies collected darting, sidelong looks. Pompous, self-important rulers eyed them carefully before dropping their heads in submission. The sound was a beast rampaging through the cafeteria, each child seeking their own piece of glory by being the loudest thread in the misshapen tapestry.

Cesare stopped in the cleared area in the middle of the cafeteria, the girls locking into place at his side. The trio drew the eyes, flowing liquid jackets holding still in the air. Whispers slithered around the tables, birthed by the gods of sadistic hunger. Table by table, the cafeteria went silent, tension winding through the room. Respects crippled brother fear silenced the monsters.

Silence consumed the cafeteria under Cesare's cold eyes. Around the room, the Thagirion got to their feet. Unlike Cesare and his friends, the Thagirion didn’t sit together. Briefly, he wondered what Blaez was doing for friends these days before his lack of give a fuck killed it.

Cesare watched one table in particular. It was the kind of group found at any school. Not popular but not losers either, holding to the middle ground with the tenacity of mediocrity. They existed in that gray area defined by what you weren't more than what you were.

“Jacob Billings.” The simple words filled the room with gleefully cruel judgment.

The boy bolted from the table, making a dash for the door. The eerie, silent stares of his classmates tracked his doomed flight. Leaning forward, Alexandra stood poised, a falcon aching to take flight. “Take him,” the whispered command freed the vampire.

A living instrument of death, she was so far beyond the beauty of any falcon. Leaping a table, she flew over ducking, screaming kids, her face lit with blessed, scarlet joy. With a high pitched scream, the boy pulled more speed from his legs. It was destined to fail against a vampire born to kill infidels.

Alexandra snatched the rabbit by the back of the neck with a lethal hiss. Spinning him around, she slammed the boy against the wall face first. Jacob’s feet scrambled for the floor with a low, a scared whine whistling from him.

“What is the meaning of this?” Jerold’s demand resounded from the walls. The man cut across the cafeteria, Thagirion falling into place around him.

Pivoting smoothly, Anastasia met Jerold stare for stare. “I think Jacobs backpack will tell you that, sir.” she said, blocking the man’s advance while Cesare lifted the boys backpack from the table before it was conveniently lost.

Jerold’s temper cooled quickly on facing the daughter of Lady Kali. Her mother’s words more than enough to insure he handled the girl with a deft touch. “I see. Then I'll wait to see what great crime he's committed to be worth the humiliation your burying him in.”

Dark eyes flared with anger, Anastasia’s melted face twitching in distaste at the teacher’s words. “Yes, we all know how committed you are to the student’s welfare.”

Cesare came up behind Anastasia, handing over the black folder they’d been tipped off to look for. In a show of absolute trust, she gave the folder over to Jerold without looking inside. “You'll find a number of essays, assignments, and test results along with a price sheet. Jacob intimidates more accomplished students for their homework. I’m sure it started out as a way for him to get ahead, but it didn’t take long before he monetized the slave labor,” she said, leading them over to were Alexandra held the limply hanging boy.

Anastasia's eyes rested briefly on the Thagirion. “We don’t know how long it's been going on, but it seems, pervasive. From what we've gathered, he only handles one subject, we suspect other students handle other subjects and teachers.”

“Who?” Jerold asked, his eyes following hers to the Thagirion.

“We don’t know.” Anastasia said sweeping an intense look over the silent cafeteria. “Yet.”

Jerold nodded slowly. “You plan to keep investigating?”

“The Furies plan to clean up the school. That means no more bullying, period. The systematic breaking of our classmates will no longer be tolerated under any condition, whether for money or sadistic pleasure. We’ll root out that corruption wherever it leads us.” The entire conversation had taken place at just the right volume for everyone in the cafeteria to overhear, exactly as they’d planned.

“I see,” Jerrold said, stuck on the image of the Thagirion being implicated in the scheme and the holocaust that would follow. “We'll take it from here. While we appreciate the ... interest. The Thagirion are the keepers of discipline, we're the authority on what will be permitted, and what penance the guilty pay.”

Anastasia gave the man a nod of acknowledgment, turning she gave a look at Cesare. There was no way Alexandra would take an order from Anastasia.

“Killer.” The word drew her insane eyes, a feral needful grin pulling her face into the mask of a serial killer. Alexandra was always dangerous, but she was murderous when she had her blood up. But that was part of what drew Cesare to her, the pureness of her psychotic soul. “Let the boy go.” Insanity surged and ebbed in her eyes. Finger by finger, she loosened her hold on the boy, until he fell to the ground in a heap of discarded flesh.

Stalking toward him, she held Cesare’s eyes, every step a challenge. Lips peeled back in a snarl of need, needle sharp fangs sliding down in naked threat. With a slow roll of his shoulder, Cesare's foot slipped back, center dropping low, a blatant acceptance of the challenge she'd laid down. A slow, arrogant smile curled his lips, baring Cesare's blunt teeth in a challenge of his own.

They stood there for an eternal second, poised to fly at the other in a frenzy of savage play. Untamed tides pulled and pushed between them, commanding, pleading, and demanding. Sadistic desires boiled Cesare’s blood, his heart sounding a base rhythm through his bones. The same mad, wanton desire shone in Alexandra, they craved it, needed it, and yet ... it wasn't the time.

Slowly, painfully, they pulled back from the brink. Lips falling down over dangerously bared teeth, desires reluctantly slithering into their dark places, only glittering eyes of malice marking them out. The stalking, challenging walk replaced with the lazy prowl of a predator that had decided not today. Sharing a smile of understanding with him, she slipped into place at his side.

Uneasily, the others watched the feral display. Animalistic, cruel, blood hungry, and coldly calculating, the Umbrae Lunae were many things, but they were sane in their own way. They didn't follow humanities definitions, but that didn't mean they didn't have their own. Those that fell outside those shadowy borders were cast out, forgotten, used up and abused. Alexandra wasn’t sane, even she accepted that. Psychotically sadistic with a healthy dash of masochism, rolled into a lethal package of slaughter, she was a time bomb, and everyone knew it. Born from an atavistic reality divorced from their existence, she'd never be accepted by them.

Stepping back, Jerold and the Thagirion exchanged worried looks. She wasn’t liked or wanted here. The only reason she’d been accepted was that they couldn’t stop her. They'd been quietly relieved when she'd seemed so normal at the start of the year, that illusion of sanity had torn like rotten meat. Now, seeing her in all her primal glory, they flinched back from its raw splendor.

Reaching out, Cesare intertwined his fingers with the vampires, acceptance, support, and the malign twin to love threaded the small gesture. Simply saying 'you’re not alone' doesn't do shit without flesh backing it. People don't need fixing; they need people to give a fuck. Alexandra knew the world would never accept her. She wasn't misunderstood, they understood her fine. Her wildness repulsed them; the untamed beauty of her volatile emotions scared them. They shunned everything Cesare loved, discarding the unique for their plastic cookie cutter souls.

Regretfully, she let his fingers go, sheltering in the tainted grace of his shadow. Cesare met Anastasia's worried look with a grin. The akatharton knew Alexandra was as stable as a pit bull on crack, but Cesare would never leave the vampire. She was as much a part of Cesare as the Enochian Blade nestled into his flesh, and far deadlier.

The three of them watched the Thagirion leave with the boy. “Do you think they’re involved?” Alexandra asked quietly.

“Doesn’t matter,” Cesare said, eyeing the crowd. “It won't take much convincing either way, no one cares about the truth. They want the Thagirion to be dragged down into the shit they live in. Everyone loves a winner, but they get hard seeing the strong broken. As long as we tell a good story we don’t need proof.” He met the vampire’s intense eyes. “But if I had to guess, I’d say they're dirty.”

“When I was with Blaez,” Anastasia started, avoiding Cesare's sharp look. “He never studied. Looking back, I wonder how I missed it. How long do you think it’s been going on?”

Walking to the exit, his words were for the girls. “Let’s be real here, buying grades isn’t new. It’s probably been in place for generations. The Thagirion are the face of Primrose, their parents are part of the alumni. Dollars to donuts, every time they kill some poor son of a bitch on that field, donations come in like a storm. The school has a vested interest in making sure they not only look perfect but have the grades to prove it. I'd be surprised if there wasn't a side game going on for the gladiators too. Sports are time sinks, demanding everything from those that want to make it. Every school takes care of its golden cows, they'll do whatever it takes to keep those dollars rolling in.”

They hit the hallways, winding their way to Viktor’s class, Alexandra glaring at the kids who didn’t quick step out of Cesare’s way fast enough. “You think you can use it to break the Thagirion?”

“Realistically, no. They’re too entrenched for any one thing to break them. The only way we can win this war is to cut away their support one root at a time, money, prestige, power. We can't just kill them, each has to be broken down, framed as the living mistakes of a flawed system. Only then will they look for an alternative,” Cesare said. Alexandra pushed out of his shadow, taking blind corner before he'd gotten to it.

Nodding, Anastasia agreed grimly. “Taking their place will have to be a long term goal. Until then, we need to focus on taking as much of their power as we can. The key is winning the adoration of the student body.” Eyeing Cesare, meaningfully she continued, “If we can win the Sanguinem Nativitate.”

Cesare nodded with a grimace. “Tonight. We’ll go over the plans I’ve been working on.” A satisfied smile cut across Anastasia's liquid flesh.

He’d kept them out of the planning phase, mostly because as soon as he’d told them they’d shut down. The Hitokiriwere one of the best teams out there, known for their professional brutality. They weren’t a no name team from some lost outpost. These guys were trained machines of death. After reading the files with the girls, he’d ended any conversation on the topic until he had a better tactical understanding of the team.

Viktor was waiting for them when they walked into class. The girls peeled off, heading to their locker room while the two men exchanged brief, noncommittal nods of welcome.

Cesare was deep in his yoga by the time the girls came out to join him. Standing away from the group, Viktor’s eyes ran over the contorting girls, settling contentedly on their tits and ass. Cesare would be the first to admit the girls were beautiful. No, what he hated was that Viktor butchered them into bit sized pieces, packaging them neatly for his enjoyment. Viktor didn't see Alexandra's ass, he only saw an ass he liked, Alexandra didn't matter.

Even with Cesare starting before them, the two ended up waiting for him to finish before starting on the weights. They'd found their own routine, each falling into place with an almost supernatural ease. The dynamics of their relationship translating to this new battlefield with fluid precision. Without a word, the girls started at their stations. They rotated around him like satellites, with Cesare just finishing an exercise in time to help spot for the girls. Aside from the occasional smile, nothing violated the silence but a few whines of pained effort.

The two girls danced around each other without a look of acknowledgement. He wasn't sure how they did it, being aware of each other so precisely that they never bumped into the other, let alone met their eyes. It was the opposite of ignoring, being hyper aware of the other girl, knowing exactly where they were at all times. While it had been awkward at first, after hours, days, and weeks together, they'd smoothed out to an easy glide. Cesare moved between the two, always there to help when they needed him to be.

They finished the way they'd started, in silence. Cesare watched the two head down the hallway until they'd turned the corner. He wondered what their lives were like when he wasn't around. What kind of student Alexandra was when she didn’t have to make up for his lack? What was it like to walk into a room knowing everyone was terrified of you? The fear feeding your hunger to hurt them, weak eyes pushing you to treat them like meat? The weight of their terror weighing you down, pulling you deeper into the abyss of madness.

Anastasia was one of the strongest woman he’d ever met, but it had to be hell to face a room full of disgust alone. Just because you were strong didn't mean you didn't hurt. It was the strong that knew the true depths of pain, while others broke, slinking away to lick their wounds, the strong pushed on. They earned their rights by trial and torture. Anastasia had been blessed with a face that opened doors and hearts, how much harder was it to bear a face that sickened after being born into the rarefied air of the gorgeous? It was easier to be born ugly, making your life among the misshapen and cast off, Cesare knew that truth intimately.

Sighing, he let it go, he couldn’t protect them from the world, any more than they could protect him. Taking the stairs, Cesare refocused his mind on the training at hand. He'd be fighting an elite warrior, and he was going to die if he didn’t transcend his truth.

Walking into the room, Cesare ghosted over the hard wood floor to the wolf, hands reaching out reflexively to run through the animal’s sable hair. A knot in his gut relaxed as silky fur parted under his fingers. Half closing its eyes, the wolf let out a deep growl of pleasure.

“You’re not strong enough.” The quiet words filled the room as Tamlin stopped behind him.

Letting go of the animals comforting fur, Cesare faced the lean man. “I know; I need the power of Beth.”

Tamlin nodded, eyes cold with calculation. “How are you doing with that?”

Walking to the mat, Cesare’s words drifted through the air. “I’m close. I can feel the letter struggling to come into being, but I can’t bridge the gap.” Frustration threaded his voice. “I know what it means. Mother, home, safety and security, but there’s something holding me back.”

Walking onto the mat, Tamlin’s eyes grew dark with thought. “Have you thought that the disconnect is born out of you not knowing what having a mother is like.” Cesare narrowed his eyes at the man, even if the point was well placed. “You've never had a mother. Never had anyone to hold and protect you from the creatures that stalk your nightmares or the very real monsters that skittered and giggled in the darkness of your life.”

Anger boiled in his veins, Cesare's body unconsciously readying itself as anger transformed to howling rage. “Stop.”

Taking his own stance, Tamlin continued in a flat, neutral tone. “You can't reach a communion with the Sephirothicusing your head. You have to know them with your heart, and your heart is a scarred wasteland devoid of any true understanding of what this being represents .…”

Cesare surged forward with a growl of anger. Tamlin met his rush with uncompromising skill, hands drifting lazily through the air, each touch turning punches into wasted energy.

Sparring back and forth across the mat, Tamlin let Cesare burn through his anger. Side stepping around his teacher, Cesare worked the man’s flanks and sides, pushing Tamlin to adapt to the unpredictable avenues of attack Cesare’s style revolved around. Tamlin absorbed it with the coolness of an expert, hands and feet never in one place for long as he effortlessly conquered Cesare's fluid style.

If Cesare was chaos, Tamlin was the rule of law. Able to take Cesare's raw aggression in all its volatile violence and diffuse it into nothing. At his heart, the man was a teacher, he used Cesare's rage to rip the best out of him. Deliberately drawing Cesare out, pushing him to work harder and harder. Always directing the fight and never losing control, he guided Cesare to the edge of ability.

Once Cesare was lost in that land of torn muscles, rivers of sweat, and cutting breath, Tamlin pressed Cesare more ruthlessly than ever, attacking mercilessly, forcing Cesare to evolve beyond himself to survive. People weren't born to greatness; they spent their lives seeking its poisoned glory. Tamlin drowned Cesare in heat and pressure, the only way to make him strong enough to survive, to live and thrive in a world that would constantly seek his blood.

Collapsing, Cesare hit the ground with a low whine of hurt, fire burning along the delicate fibers of his body. Convulsing in shuttering gasps, Cesare laid in an expanding pool of sweat. Standing coolly over him, Tamlin's words were little more than a whisper. “You'll never understand what having a mother is like. But that's not the only kind of mothering. Hasn’t the Imperatrix Terra named you as a Child of the Earth?” Shock spiked through Cesare’s body at the news.

“You didn’t know. When you get your answer, I want you to ask yourself one thing. Who sheltered you when you were on the streets, who drank your tears, whose bounty did you suckle from?” Tamlin left with that last question twisting in the air.