Tuesday April 14th 2015

Alexandra smoothly pushed the barbell up from her chest as Cesare spotted her. He wasn’t needed, they both knew she could tap user her vampiric blood to get out of any danger. But that wasn’t why he was helping her. He was here because it didn’t matter if she could do it alone, she shouldn’t have too.

She was dressed in black sweats that hugged her muscled legs and trim ass. A too large purple shirt hid her black sports bra with only her lower arms exposed. Her body was an engine of violent power born in places of iron like this. The bar rose and fell with ruthlessly controlled movements, Alexandra's chest bulging and relaxing in smooth rhythm.

No sweat marred her cool perfection. Her golden hair woven into an intricate braid, vicious green eyes locked on him. Leaning over her form, Cesare watched the slow, inexorable movement of the weight, marveling at not only her beauty but her power. It was the sublime vista of a tiger stalking through the jungle, each muscle harnessed to violence.

Alexandra was deadly, no matter how innocent she looked or how normal she seemed, it was only a mask she wore. She held the beauty of a fine blade in all its cruel magnificence. She pulled at the darkness of his soul in a way no one else could. The promise of horrors in the curve of her lips and easy grace of her body.

Cesare stilled as he felt it, a tremble in the air, the strings of reality straining to contain something obscene beyond man’s understanding. The taste of copper blood, the feel of bones cracking under his hands, the surge of pleasure at crippling an enemy, feelings tied to images, they flowed around him. Sensing the change in him, Alexandra racked the barbell and stood, anchoring his side as he turned to look at the door.

Eyes never leaving the door, Anastasia moved up on his other side, long since having learned to trust Cesare’s instincts. Her pink sweats clung to her lush figure, showcasing a firm butt and wide hips, a black tank top and sports bra to topping it off. Sweat gave her face a gleaming sheen, crimson hair languidly moving in an unfelt breeze.

Viktor straightened from leaning against the wall, eyes moving between the Furies and the door. Tension entered the air as Cesare felt the presence close the distance, its beastly nature pressurizing the air, a howl felt along the soul growing louder with every step.

The door opened, Cesare’s body shifting in response, center of balance dropping, back foot sliding across the stone to anchor himself. Alexandra moved away from his side, stepping forward and out, creating distance to intercept anything that came for him. On his other side, Anastasia stepped away from him, hands clenching and loosening in preparation, dark eyes deepening with the sadistic desires of the Ebon Flame.

Sampson walked in, noting the three Furies and Viktor before holding the door open for another man. The man wore faded blue jeans and a black tshirt that fell over his body in unassuming folds. Short dark hair done in the careless style of a man who didn’t see the point in gel or hairspray. A lean, sharp face lent his eyes a narrow, hard look.

He wasn’t much to look at, you’d never spot him in a picture. But that wasn’t the measure of a man, there were something’s a picture would never capture. He wasn’t a big man, but his presence filled the room, taking control in the way of a man whose character's been forged through the greatest fires, quenched in oceans of blood, grown fat on the beasts of sorrow. This wasn’t a man that broke, he fought and won, even if the price was his soul.

Cesare met the man’s eyes as the girls shifted uneasily under its attention. He was like Kali, old and primal, ancient, and steeped in slaughter. His eyes swam with emotions too deep to understand, pains that had ached for thousands of years, scars that transcended the birth of humanity. The man’s reality dwarfed Sampson, turning the kid into an illusion of flesh.

The thing briefly considered Viktor before dismissing him just as quickly. It focused assessing eyes on Cesare as if they were alone in the room. A chain binding them together as they measured each other.

“I rarely come when the pups cry.” Shrugging, the man gave an easy smile. “They whine and cry about life instead of living it. If I saved them every time they begged, I’d be eating the steak of their life and leaving them with gristle.” The things attention drifted to the girls. Alexandra radiated a quietly, lethal capability, murderous kinetic strength radiating off her. Anastasia dripped with a raging, devouring hunger, black flames winding across her fingers, caressing tongues of defilement aching to feed.

Turning back to Cesare, the man continued, “I don’t raise lap dogs; I birth the strong.”

“Yet you came.” Cesare's words were the whisper of the blade before it sinks into soft places.

“My scarred hound didn’t call out for saving, no, he called out for his brothers and sisters. He begged me to come here after my child fouled the honor of my cubs promise.” Stopping, the man’s eyes ran over Cesare slowly. “I'm Animus, one of the Three that rule Cerberus, my word binds the dogs of retribution. Tell me young wolf, why I should give it?”

The challenging tone tightened the strings of tension in the room. Cesare rolled the question around. It wasn’t what it seemed, Animus wouldn’t be here if he hadn’t already decided to give it. The thing wouldn’t bother coming here, diverting from its course for the crying of its cub, if it didn’t see the potential. This was a test of Cesare's worth.

“Because if you don’t, your brood of war Hounds will die in this place.” The whispered words tugged at the darkness that dwelled in the corners. Shades of sable deepened at his velvet, poisoned words. “If they continue as they always have, this litter of killers will be wiped out.”

One shoulder lifted in unconcern. “Yet they’ve continued as they have for as long as this school’s stones were joined.”

Nodding in recognition, Cesare settled his body in readiness. “I wasn’t here then. Your dogs lived off the easy prey the school offered, they ruled their territory, protecting their own. But a new wolf's come, and I won’t tolerate their interference with mine. Your pups will either bow to the wolf or be devoured by it.”

Animus shifted slightly, an aura of brutal power emanating from him, reality realigning under its weight, violence saturating the air. “I could kill this wolf. Tear it limb from limb and do away with its impotent threats.” Alexandra's low hiss cut the air, struggling against the aura of carnage the man emanated.

The thing looked at the vampire in contempt, a cold, vicious thing snapping in its eyes. “I was old and fucking animals when your milk pale god was only a stain across realities thighs leech. Don't test me spawn of disease, for I am the end of your kind.”

Alexandra faced the cold hate in the things face, neither backing up or moving forward, her own power surging in answer to the naked threat. Flesh receded from her face, leaving it a stark, ghastly thing of death and starvation. Lips peeled back from needle sharp fangs, her nose narrowing into a blade like thing of fierce intent, green eyes swirling with insanity.

Cesare stepped in before Alexandra launched herself at Animus. “You could kill me.” The ghost of the words shaded the world. “But you’d make my words into a prophecy. The leader of Cerberus kills a student. They’d massacre your pups before the day’s end.” He looked to the side at Anastasia, the girls hands flowing with dense tendrils of flame.

“You might kill us and prevent my friends from taking revenge against your people. But I don’t think even you’re strong enough to face off against Kali or Miss Raven. No, you'd win the fight, but you'd lose the war.” Cesare caressed a hand down Alexandra’s hair, a lifeline that pulled the deadly vampire back from the brink of suicide.

Looking away from the vampire, Animus met Cesare’s eyes. “You call her by her first name. My brother's fucked her dusty bones for centuries and even he calls her Lady Kali. She must be red hot for your cock to give you that honor.” Heat blasted across the room, a scorching wave that sent sweat covering Cesare’s body instantly.

“You will speak with respect when you talk of my mother,” Anastasia said, hands roiling with glittering flames.

“Stepmother if we want to get technical,” Animus said, briefly looking at the akatharton before catching Cesare’s eye. “I’ve known her longer than this continent has been above water. While I’ve never fucked her, I’ve fought her. Watched as she burned my armies to ash and cast me to the winds. There was a time when Cerberus was as strong as the Andhērē rōṣa, but that time’s long gone. No young wolf, I won’t be seeking to tear my life apart today.” Relaxing, Animus stripped the violence from the air, but not the lethal feel. A man as steeped in savagery as Animus could never be anything but a threat.

“Once the Three were Four. Brothers birthed by the same bitch. We grew, fucked, fought, and cried as one. Nothing could separate us, until the Cleansing War came. We took no part, cared for neither Angel nor Umbrae Lunae, but they came for us anyway. When the slaughter was over, me and my two brothers stood in a wasteland of the dead. Angels, vampires, humans, torn apart and laid low to die in their shit, but they’d won despite their loses. Centuries old and an immortal in his own right, my brother died there.” He stopped, face hardening with old pain.

“Since that day, I’ve hunted and killed the races that stole my brother from me. I’ll have my vengeance when everything that shares blood with the bastards that stole mine from me are dead and gone. Today, you ask me to exclude one vampire. I ask you young wolf, why?” Birthed from an ocean of agony, the words demanded an accounting.

“Because you're losing,” Cesare said, drawing a sharp gasp from Sampson. “You won’t ever have your revenge. You won’t ever be able to lay down your sword, because you won’t ever win.” Cesare met the things eyes for a long minute. “And you know it. The only way forward is to change, evolve, take on new ways. You might have to swear never to harm Alexandra, but if it ever comes down to her being the last vampire, you’ll have won more than you can dream of. Your only way forward is through alliances with powers you hate. What have you accomplished?” Cesare set his feet, the next words were either going to push Animus to go for his throat or back his play.

“Nothing, that’s what your rage has bought. Cerberus is a footnote, boys running around playing soldier. Little more than thugs with delusions of grandeur. Instead of a mountain of skulls to mark your brothers grave, all you’ve given him is hollow promises and the mouthing’s of old men too stupid and weak to avenge their blood.” Scornfully contemptuous, the words slipped into the air, fouling it with their truth.

Animus straightened, body thrumming with barely checked fury as he glared at Cesare, his stare a physical thing pressing against his skull. But you couldn’t break the broken, you couldn’t kill what was already dead.

“Cerberus guarantees the safety of Alexandra Dracul. Further, from this point forward, we swear a blood alliance with the three Furies.” Stepping forward, the man lifted his hand to his mouth, biting through flesh until crimson ran down his face.

Cesare walked beyond the guarding force of the girls. Taking the meaty part of his hand between his teeth, he bit down until blood filled his mouth and dripped from his chin. “The Furies swear a blood alliance with Cerberus,” Cesare said, clasping the blood-soaked hand of Animus.

Holding his hand tightly, Animus grinned with red stained teeth. “We’ll support you and them with flesh, swords, and hearts. When you call for the hunt, we’ll come, young wolf.” Pulling Cesare close, his words were gleefully savage. “In return, you’ll harvest the shadows. Tear them from the heavens, ravage their castles of steel and glass, make them squirm across the earth like the maggots they are. You'll be Cerberus most hateful weapon.” The words vibrated with conviction.

Animus pivoted away, Sampson scrambling to keep up. “How do you know I’ll kill your enemies?” Cesare's words stopped Animus on the threshold of the door.

Without turning, Animus’s words filled the air. “Because they'll hunt your Furies, wolf. They'll bar their path in the halls of power, stalk the night seeking their blood, and wage war against them. And you’ll kill them for it. You'll never be one of us, never wear the proud mantle of a dog of vengeance. But you'll sink our enemies into your maelstrom of nightmares.”