Cursed Symphony

by HavePenWillWork

Chapter 37: What Remains

November 2037 ~ Den of Thieves and Murderers

 

Julius Belmont, at the ripe old age of fifty-eight, was not a man in the habit of jumping into anything half-cocked. Whether that had always been a proclivity of his, a vaguely remembered holdout from his army training and enforcement, or an over-correction habit adopted in his post-amnesia days to repress the sense of feeling so lost all the time, he really couldn't have said for certain. Nor did it really matter this late in the game, such an ingrained habit it now was. The man liked his prep and his precautions, and he took pride in doing his best to anticipate for himself and his companions, any of the curve-balls that always seemed to come flying when Alucard was involved. Dracula's son, Adrian Fahrenheit Ţepeş. Julius' thirty years long Wild Card to consider. Why did the Belmont war hero feel such a need to overcompensate, one might ask? The answer was really quite simple.

 

Alucard was cursed.

 

Julius had settled on that fact over two decades ago, from years of working alongside or off-side the Dhampyre in his new world post-amnesia. He was fairly certain he'd come to the same conclusion prior to losing all his memories. They'd apparently gone back as far since he was a boy training under the late Jonathan Morris. Julius was certain his teenager self took separate cabs and had refused late nightcaps with the Dhampyre. He knew there had been drinks slipped his underaged self by Mister Morris. Julius could remember the weathered ancient man sliding a beer over with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, even after all this time had passed and in spite of his memory wipe. But Alucard had never been in those hazy memories, and the memories he did have of his younger days of the Demon Prince truly hammered his opinion of the existing curse home.

 

The evidence spoke for itself. Bomb-threat or active shooter at a convention, conference or assembly in the news? Always seemed to happen when Alucard was a guest speaker or special invite. A quote unquote easy recon and bag and tag job for a devil or demon blow up into a huge thing that played out egregiously wrong for all the dumbest, asinine reasons? You bet your ass Alucard was a consultant or contract agent on the Hunt. Every time. Even the small annoyances were not spared from his curse. Extreme, extended flight delay? Nine out of ten times, Alucard had a ticket on that same flight. Cruise ship leave your luggage at the previous port? Your luggage must have been bumped up against Alucard's. Luncheon or large catered function screw up all the orders, portions, and religious dietary outlines? Alucard was obviously one of your guests. Cream you just bought, still in date and all, found spoiled in your fridge? That's because Alucard is the one who made the pot of coffee you were going to use it in.

 

Cursed. Utterly, unequivocally, horribly cursed!

 

Julius could not even say with any certainty that Alucard's bloody curse was not the true reason the seal on the Castle when he tore Dracula's soul from the Crimson Stone had stolen the first half of his entire life. But he held no grudge and placed no blame on the misfortunate Dhampyre. Really, what was past was long passed, and the only thing that mattered at this immediate junction was the accursed predicament unlucky Alucard currently found himself in. Preparation and precaution would only take them so far in resolving this conundrum, however. That in mind, Julius dumped his backpack outside the cramped cave entrance alongside Alucard's sword where they would be obscured by the rocks and brush, and followed on the beating wings of an alabaster bat, slipping out of sight into the murk of unknown danger. Not fully prepared for what lay beyond by a long-shot, but without the luxury of an alternative.

 

The tunnel opening was not only low enough to require doubling over or crawling, but deceptively short, a deep drop dangerously close to where ones eyes will still be adjusting to the change in light, and camouflaged sufficiently by hanging exposed roots. Julius had to ease himself down using the roots and jutting uneven rocks as hand and footholds, entering as silently as he could into the yet another murky channel, head still requiring a bend to avoid clonking himself on the noggin by those same roots and rocks. Silently stepping forward, body grazing the wall, he followed the only pathway that was available. It was long and there was little of note. It seemed almost made to dissuade anyone who stumbled across as thinking it lead anywhere at all. So much nothingness and claustrophobic tightening of the tunnel, for long enough to give even this old man some second thoughts. His heart and breath sounded like the whupping of a helicopter, and just as loud in the deafening silence, though he knew that was all in his head. It was only because there was nothing else to distract him from the internal sounds of being a living creature, as well as the slight tinnitus hum in his right ear.

 

And that was what bothered him the most.

 

The silence. Cloistered away in such a well spell guarded hovel, nigh-impossible to find on foot for most was this place stiller than the grave. Based on the abundance of evidence and logical rationing, this was the place these witches were congregating. Inside these underground hewn out halls should be where they felt safe and secure. This should be where they felt they could drop their guard, for no human, demon, witch or otherwise could be on high alert at all times. It was an impossibility. Julius should have heard a noise or two echoing down this pathway he crawled. Their chatter should have carried. A sign of life should be evident. This hair-raising quiet should not be what was deafening him.

 

Creeping ever closer to what seemed to be a widening gyre of stone, swirled pattern evident along the walls, he found the white bat, ghostly in appearance, hanging upside down from the coiling roots above to peer into the gathering area. Seemingly formed from the very bedrock itself were several stone tables and benches. By magick means, no doubt. Scattered on these tables were signs of previous habitation. Refuse in the form of empty boxes and partially crushed cans or waterbottles. Half-eaten bags of chips and crackers. What wasn't apparent was signs of active people in this space. There was a dust settled. Light and thin. Hardly noticeable to an untrained eye. Days old only. The lack thereof of these people gave Julius an unsettled feeling in the pit of his stomach.

 

What if this place has already been abandoned completely? He pondered with a deeply creased brow. I can feel the Veil thickened of late. If the Castle's easiest access point is moving back to Wallachia or who knows as it appears to be... Have these women already moved on? If they have Alucard, what purpose would there be to take him with them? Julius paused, breath hitched. A stray thought seizing his mind. Is this rescue mission in reality... a retrieval instead? A body retrieval mission?

 

His pensive fear grit his teeth and stole his focus, foolish as it was of him. In so much that he nearly startled when the white bat flit back down soundlessly from it's perch, materializing as it's true Moroi form. Bloodless lips so close to the elder hunter, he felt them brush the shell of his ear when the Vampyre finally spoke. Julius forced himself to keep still, fighting deeply rooted instinct to not have a Vampyre's mouth inches from his vulnerable throat. Fear clamped down, he tried to listen to anything other than his beating heart.

 

“There were hundreds or so of them here at one time, I can smell their distinct scents. But they have faded. Days old now.” Joachim's whispered breath was hot against his flesh. “There are some still here, deeper within this maze. These scents are fresh. Perhaps two or three dozen. Depending on their talents, this may be a cake-walk, old man.”

 

Knowing the vamp's hearing was a thousand times better than his own, Julius only exhaled his reply, too faint a noise for any but the Moroi to register, even his own. “They have run. You feel it as well, how the thinning Veil is no longer in these lands? It will shift in time back to Romania, and if they knew so much as to track it here, they will know to track it back to Wallachia or wherever it decides to pitstop. This is looking poorly in Alucard's favour, I fear. Unless this contingent you are smelling is his guard... We may be too late. The best we can hope for if they are not... is that they took him with them for some reason.”

 

Joachim's silver eyes bled crimson and Julius watched his pointed ears twist forward to better listen to something beyond the hunter's scope. “I do not freshly smell my stupid half-breed, though he did pass through this chamber.” With a barely audible huff, the Vampyre's teeth grit. “Follow me, Belmont.” Came the order. “I will get to the bottom of this.”

 

Declaration made with such bold confidence, the Vampyre stood and moved. Soft leather blue coat creaking the only announcement to his presence. So it seemed, to Julius at least, that Joachim was done with recon and speculation. The Vampyre intended to meet these straggler witches head-on, with or without his help, judging by the clear purpose in which he walked. Still, it didn't quite sit well with Julius just yet. There was still an unknown factor he held serious concerns about. Before Joachim could get too far away, Julius asked in that same exhale of air.

 

“What of the creature that was in the woods that night you watched over us? The one that had you so spooked you sat with Alucard for safety until morn? Is that creature further inside or you do not smell or sense it here right now?”

 

This question halted Joachim in his tracks, and he turned on a heel sharply, abruptly before Julius' crouched form to take him by the shoulders, entirely undeterred by the Vampyre Killer that was placed between their close faces. “I do not spook, old man.” The accusation shoved right back down the elder hunter's throat, Joachim continued to hiss. “My caution is and has always been guided by cool headed logic. If I had caught one whiff of that monster in this cave, I would not be here still. Adrian has made his bed already, in so far as I am concerned. It is my affection that drives this clinging hope I have that he has not foolishly gotten himself killed. Follow me or not, Julius Belmont, I do not care which way you choose.” And then he was back to striding into the vacant cavern. Midnight blue coat creak, creak, creaking away.

 

Julius sighed inwardly and stood. The Vampyre Killer his hand had found easily when Joachim pounced without conscious thought let out a small, hallowed glow as the hunter war hero followed his most recent odd bedfellow. Joachim seemed to have locked onto the source he intended to unleash his wrath upon, so Julius padded along after, following the Vampyre step through the labyrinth of tunnels and break-away chambers. The elder hunter stopped occasionally to peek into the barren rooms, surveying similarly disquieting emptiness. Rooms that had once been used as dormitories, stray socks and mittens strewn about in a hasty pack-up. Another few were clearly former apothecaries, mostly emptied save the dregs or scraps of potions and ingredients. Hardly worth the space they would take to have packed up in a quick flight from this dwelling.

 

Joachim's creak, creak, creaking took him purposely on his chosen path, so Julius continued to follow along after, noticing how the caverns wily twists and turns brought them lower and lower into the earth. When the hunter at last caught up to the Vampyre, he found the demon slowing in pace before finally halting to kneel by another low arched doorway. This one opened out broadly to a joint-purposed workshop and ritual chamber, stony dais and tools all laid out. Around the centre platform at the base of the magickally carved stone stairway lay a still pool of water. The depth of which Julius could not properly judge from his current vantage point.

 

True to Joachim's headcount, there was somewhere between twenty-five and thirty-five women below in the chasm, chattering below as they worked to gather tools and supplies, unaware of the threats that watched them from on high. These women and... girls? They felt safe where they were, laughing as they went about their tasked in unhurried paces. A glance spared in Joachim's direction told the hunter all he needed to know. The Vampyre was going to enjoy himself to the fullest extent, and for once, as a Church licensed hunter, Julius was going to stand beside a demon and help it wreak it's havoc. These women had absolutely no idea what was about to be unleashed upon them.

 

Still... There was more than vengeance and twisted pleasure to be obtained here. So in that breathy exhale, he reminded the Vampyre of that fact. “We need a witness, alive. Preferably, I would ask that you spare that child I see down there. She looks barely fifteen.” Whether the Vampyre heard him or not was not in question, but rather whether or not he would heed Julius' request. Guess he'd just have to wait and see the outcome.

 

Julius sighed, outwardly this time, and watched Joachim shift back into a bat and take off towards the heart of the chasm. By the time the hunter's deliberate heavy climb down the stone-moulded stairwell had the attention of the startled gathering of witches, Joachim's sudden, heavy landing as he shift back into form amongst them had the coven's stragglers outright scattering in a confused panic.

 

“Good evening, ladies.” The vamp greeted with a smile. All teeth, and none of the humour that should have accompanied it. “I seem to have lost a Moroi idiot around these parts. Pray tell, have you seen my Dhampyre?”

 

Greeting quickly drowned out in the growing alarm and commotion, the whip, wands, and spectral swords came into play soon after.

 

*****

 

In Shadows and Silence ~ A lingering soul

 

Earth and sky.

 

Such a familiar scent.

 

Comforting scent, promising safety and salvation.

 

Nigh-ambrosial taste.

 

Such nectar on the tip of a tongue, but life deep within the circulatory system did it return.

 

A pulse was in his veins, under the skin, setting fire and lights off. Humming along now steadily, growing, spreading. Erratic at times, but finding it's rhythm. Wild and all together tame at once. Succour under the tongue, down his throat. Steady mouthfuls filling his belly. There was the return of sensation. Coolness of stone against his fired back. A low roar of sounds, indistinguishable from each other with such damaged, useless ears. A shape was bent above, blurred due to acid ravaged eyes. The sweet life-giving nectar was being shared by the shape. The sweet succour, so close in taste to what he most desired. That ambrosial honey. So painfully close, he could imagine it was the real thing, and felt just as bereft when the substitute for his hunger pulled back. The narrow shape was moving away now. Familiar angles and lines, even when distorted. Comforting and desirable even as a ghost. The life it had shared, the hollowness it had left in it's wake when finished, spurred him to crawl, to follow.

 

Where could it be going? What reason would it possibly have to leave him now that it has pulled him from the brink? That familiar shadow and scent. It was close enough to the genuine article, he could make due with it. What more than that familiarity he could ever ask or hope for? What more could he expect of his desires fulfilled, as he was now blinded and deafened? Nothing. There was nothing.

 

Please come back.

 

The shape couldn't understand him, he realized with a sense of devastation. It kept moving further away. Or perhaps it was that he could not be understood? His voice was gone. Like his sight and his hearing, his sound too must have been burned away by the rush of acid water. Painful, dark water.

 

Yes. Waters. A cell made of water.

 

Here he had been a just a pitiful prisoner, stripped of cloth, autonomy and dignity. Manipulated and robbed, bargaining his body piecemeal for paltry mercies here and there. That same battered body laid out, prone and vulnerable, for violation after violation. But now he was free of the silver. Injured feet miraculously held his weight when he managed to climb to them. Cramped stiffened legs quivered, but he could steady them with concerted effort. The faint gurgling of water just beyond his useless ears and vision called to him, the possibilities that lay just beyond far too tempting to surrender to fear. He knew the path the shape had taken. It was the same one as that loathsome... foul... foolish... vile woman. The woman who had taken from him what could so easily end the world in the wrong hands, or the right hands depending on how one looked at grave matters. Anyone's hands at all. It was the very nature of such a Chaos entity to sow endless discord, separating fools from reason and playing on their ambitions. Urging them to ruin, be it their own and anyone else within the splash-zone of their self-destruction.

 

This ceaseless madness and war against worldly Order could not be allowed to continue, so he had to get out. The prison could not be his grave if he was ever to get the stones back. Blind, deaf, mute, it mattered not what trials and tribulations lay ahead. He would get them back. There was no other choice. A white-hot rage was building in his gut. Flames burning so brightly it was hard to remember anything else but the woman and her shadow. That Witch. That damned, blasted, ambitious fool, so utterly misguided and lead astray. So many mysteries about her left to solve, and retribution to be torn from out. Yes... she would suffer for her choices. Now a mighty tremor wracked his body. Not weakness, no, and not fatigue either. This was nary the tremble of a dying demon or a dying human. It was fury made manifest. Righteous anger for a righteous avenger. And of course... Hunger. Ravenous for her blood, he was. For the blood of all her hangers-on. The whole lot of pitiful fools. To spare even one he could not permit now.

 

There was no other course of action. The Witch... She was above, and he below. How else was he to mete out her punishment? The only way forward was to reach her. He had no choice but to... to swim. Justice calling, he did just that very thing that had seemed impossible until this moment. The searing pain along his flesh was nothing compared to the fiery rage smouldering inside. Memory guided the way through acid and suffocation. With how many times he'd watched them come and go before the acid took his eyesight, it was easy to judge. Familiar shape's familiar tasting nectar warmed his guts and pulsed through his body. His aura was strengthening with every heartbeat, and with it came access to so many of his dormant talents. Free of the draining locks, obscuring charms, and countermeasure curses once placed to hide the Anchor, all his power was free to return with time. With sustenance and patience he could finally be whole after thirty-eight years. After all, with nothing left to protect inside, all could be put on the offence. Arcane powers now within his grasp, there was more than one way to see the world open to him. Now he saw in flashes of energy. Various colours and hues, painting his former darkness with neon and glitter.

 

Lungs long burning, the first gasp of air was near as sweet as the nectar still on his tongue. The acid dripped away. Stone - dry stone - was under his feet. Neon and glitter danced around him. Threats, every one of them, but trivial given the weakness in their vibrancy. These were no warriors he met in this particular battle, but then again, war had all kinds of causalities. First blood had been drawn by their High Priestess. Surely these foolish girls should have known there would be a counter-strike. No mercy was permitted. While his ears twitched in their direction by instinct, useless as they were, it was not needed to aid his attack. He did not need to hear or see them to evade and dance around their malformed, broken battle formations. He didn't need to hear them plead as they no doubt must be. There was nothing these militant zealots could say that would stop him anyway. White-hot anger made him swift. Faster than the streams of colour flying to and fro the fingertips of his enemy. Neon blurs scattering at his approach. Neon above and beyond racing for the tunnel entrances like the rats they were. It was valiant effort... Just a shame they were not as swift as he, those hues and sparkles. Those twinkling life forces, reeking heavy with terror.

 

Oh, how visceral the intensity of his pleasure was when he caught them. Hands shredding flesh as if they were ribbons, his teeth devouring whole, mouth and tongue drinking up the remnants. It wasn't enough, so little retribution claimed. So little a stream of the blood flowing when what he wanted, was owed, was an ocean. It was too slow this way, it seemed. What needed to be done wasn't a man's job, but the devil's. It wasn't Alucard that would win this fight, but Dracula. The mighty dragon's dark arcane arts, accursed and blasphemous, spewed forth from him. From his tainted lineage a dark metamorphosis took over, draining essence, stealing their very souls. Their power now his, life forced ebbing away, he came for what was left, that pulse deep within.

 

Bone. It was their bones that got in the way. No matter, really, this cage of ivory. So easy to crack. So easy to pop open. Almost cathartic, the brittle tactile sensations felt through his fingertips.

 

Snap. Snap. Snap.

 

Tiny bone cages failing at keeping the blood from his tongue. How pathetic their construction. Anger flared anew at the momentary stumbling block. Why, he was quite certainly justified in being sick to death of cages. Tear them all down! Shatter them all! Leave nothing left but what had been ground to dust beneath his bare foot. These prisons would not stop him any more than the silver cage had. Claws free of the flimsy barrier, they tore into the nexus of the closest fading neon hue. Yes... Yes! There it is, just waiting for me! Beating heat finally in his hands. Pumping, thumping it's last against his flesh, great rivulets of life swallowed down between chunks of spasming, dying muscle. This was the well from which all of the blood he desired sprung. He consumed it all. Flesh, muscle, veins, and blood. There was only one problem. That was how the beating lasted so little once he begun to jailbreak their black hearts. He needed to find another. Another humming heat was required. His appetite would be sated with no less.

 

The neon beings were fleeing, scattering, tripping, panicking. They wanted to get away, but he would not allow it, not now. They had had their chance to hear reason when he'd spoken of it to their High Priestess. Now was the time to reap what they sowed. More of Dracula's dark arts and blood magick sucked the life force from out his prey, weakening them, slowing them. Ah, yes. Here is one that will do just fine. This one he now had felt much smaller and lighter in his hands. Was it that he was growing stronger? Regaining his strength? He felt that he was. Little ivory cage, won't you free your crimson canary? Let me feel it sing in my hands, if I cannot hear it. It was effortless when one's morals had been traded in.

 

Snap. Snap. Snap.

 

Another bone prison easily broken into, snapped like dry twigs. Another beating heat torn from out the soft cavity just beyond. Teeth in flesh. Muscle. Copper on his tongue, running down his chin, fingers, arms. Splashing across his chest, into his blinded eyes. Swallowing it all down was hard with such eagerness to contend with. With so many others around to tempt his hunger waiting in line. It was just so damnably infuriating how quickly the thrumming heat stilled. Soon enough he needed another. This was hardly what I'd call a meal. Not enough at all. These zealots of yours lack substance, Esteffi! I've not even begun to collect what I am am rightfully owed for my pain and suffering! Cowardly neon and glitter kept fleeing into the winding darkness ahead. The ones who try to stay and fight have poor form and amateurish flows. Their spells are nothing to redirect. Their witch-fire lost in his own returning Hellfire. Smoke and char fills his dulled nostrils, and around that the stench of despair. The colours and hues scattered beyond what he could sense in such a hungry, handicapped state. In spite of all he'd consumed, he was famished. Absolutely, irreconcilably famished. Another. That was the only answer to be had. He needed another. If he could not devour another warm beating heat kept in a brittle ivory cage, he would surely expire in the next moment. It was hungry work, being Dracula.

 

Cowards! The lot of you! You think you'll take the Castle and everyone will bow down to your whims? It's a right laugh. Even blind, deaf and mute, you fear me!

 

Stalking the trails the colours had disappeared into, he came across two blinding beacons. Neon shone brightly from out the corner of his inner eye, or third eye, it was oft called. These lustrously lucent pillars approached with measured, deliberate movements, unlike the erratic panic of the ones before. Their brilliance was brighter than all the others so far, combined. How beautifully they shimmered, the pair of them. So blindingly bright. So mesmerizingly dazzling. Their cages... He just had to get inside those cages and free that imprisoned life. To drink these ones down would make him whole. He would be rightfully what he was born to be. The Scion of Dracula, restored.

 

Just then the scent of Earth and Sky sought to distract him. He shook the memory of Trevor away. There would be time for such fancies later, once he had his strength, his vengeance, and the stones back in hand. Inner eye studied the warily approaching pillars, comparing them against one another. Their vibrancy shone in the very different ways their aura's felt against his nerve-dulled flesh, and it was easy to tell what to expect from each. Nimble collection of neon yellows and blues, hot enough they looked almost gold and silver that even an after-image of them lingered as they shifted, was to his left. On his right was a smaller collection, hot pink and orange, burgeoning purples and indigo roiling up from beneath. That one... The Warm coloured one... Trading the focus of his senses between the two, it became obvious. Too obvious. Who else could they be? Why else did he smell the lingering hints of Trevor so strongly, if not for the presence of his too perfect twin?

 

I have you, Witch. Mouth curling viciously, he did not need his ears to hear the snarl that reverberated in his chest. To think that you would come back here after you thought you got the best of me. Did you intend to gloat? Perhaps spit on my grave or my corpse? What foolhardy overconfidence! What arrogance!

 

Estefania's stupid pet had betrayed her by giving him this second chance. A simple demon with simple desires, intent on keeping it's chosen mate around at the cost of both their lives. He could still taste the nectar of the single-minded creature on his tongue, and it brought about a cruel sneer in response. All he had to do was stay out of Arden's range. It was so simple a blind man could do it. A blind man was about to! Arden had already proven it was not a fighter, and he dare say even proven it's cowardice. The Witch though... The Witch! She was something else entirely. Plan committed to in that quick passing moment, he coiled like a veritable viper and lashed out towards the neon pink.

 

She was slower than in their first duel months ago. Perhaps the lovely choker of scars he'd given her weighed heavy on that pretty little neck, dragging her feet?

 

The Witch drawing closer would be an orgasmic pleasure he'd snap snap snap clean open.

 

*****

 

November 2037 ~ Cradle of the Witch's Coven

 

Having stalled long enough to give the Belmont Legendary Hunter and his bloodhound Vampyre their chance to get into position, Yoko stepped out of the shadows and stood before the well-hidden entrance that hopefully lead to a missing Dhampyre. Through her connection to that very bloodhound, she could feel Joachim unravelling magickal seals down below with remarkable ease for someone who'd only learned the method hours prior. If she had the time, she may have marvelled at how great a teacher she was. Now was not exactly the time, however, and certain as hell not the place, so instead she motioned for the more youthful looking Belmont Legendary Hunter to follow on her heels and ducked into the cavern. The sudden drop was not expected, but manageable once she got her bearings.

 

Maybe I should have gone and done that rock climbing after all. She mused, if only to keep the complaints and groaning quietly inside. Again reminding herself, there was a time and place. She gave a smile Trevor likely couldn't make out in the gloom when the Hunter reached out and lifted her down that last few feet of treacherous footing. He was a much faster climber, confirmed, and Yoko decided she probably should do some chest, bicep, and grip workouts in the near future. It was going to be required if she intended on swinging that whip in the future.

 

It was Trevor who took the lead once she was safely on the ground this time, stepping lightly – The Fox-Walk, Yoko made note of with a little spike of satisfaction in spite of just reminding herself about the importance of time and place – down the dark narrow passageway to an uncertain destination. In the eerie silence that stretched on for far too long down far too narrow a crawl, Yoko's little feelers started to twitch, picking up the high energy of a being that was doing it's very best not to try and hide. Murmured warning passed along to Trevor she followed the slender hunter cautiously out into the open chamber they at last came upon. Nothing stirred, but at some point this had been a well-used gathering area, seemingly evacuated in a bit of haste. With a hand on a shoulder to still, and another to point towards a down-turned hallway to direct, Yoko wordlessly clued Trevor into the source of the presence she was feeling.

 

As the pair slipped into the low-ceiling breakaway, a raucous panicked cacophony arose, growing louder with every passing second, echoing frightfully off the stone walls. It had to be Julius and Joachim making their move, she determined with grim finality. There was no going back now. So she pressed on, drawing on Joachim's arcane energy pool when a closer scrambling collection of shrieks arose from the depths she and Trevor were currently descending into. Around a sharp bend they came face to face with a terrified handful of women, tripping over themselves to flee whatever lay below. Yoko found herself in a standoff for what felt dragged on longer than the actual seconds it lasted, everything happening in slow-motion. The girls, wild-eyed, blood-splattered, and stuck in a continuous scream, she and Trevor alarmed and made wary. But with a harsh shake and a screech of 'fuck them, run!', the most sensible among the women urged them on in their desperate flight, leaving the interlopers to face whatever was worthy of such a frantic escape.

 

Yoko traded a wary look of her own with Trevor in the dark he was close enough to see clearly, and she close enough to make out his mirrored back. The slim hunter did close in their own ranks, fox-walking slowly and directly ahead of her now, as if meaning to protect her with his own flesh and bones if necessary. Yoko had a twinge of... something... in her gut. A comforting twinge laced with a vague disappointment in herself. It was easy to fall in line, pretending the back of the brown head before her was Julius', and thus easy to pretend she was still the student following the master once again. It was her nerves taking control, and she knew she should be braver, bolder, or whatever. Swallowing hard, the sorceress did just that. Stepping out to Trevor's side so that whatever the fuck sent a handful of witches running scared had to meet them as a united front, she felt that twinge of disappointment fade just when Trevor just gave a nod and continued on. No chivalrous insistence to protect what didn't want to cower behind him. She was grateful for that.

 

Until they rounded that last bend and came across a bloodbath. Then, cowering behind a man didn't feel so damsel-in-distress-y. She was super distressed at the sight! And not alone, as Trevor also briefly looked like he wished he could cower anywhere but where they found themselves standing.

 

It was a looming wraith, bloodied arms and legs, crimson dripping from mouth onto it's beard and from there down onto it's chest, that stood in the juxtaposition of natural orange remnants of flickering flames against unnatural blue witch-light. Blue and orange highlighting the red and black stripes charred into it's exposed alabaster skin. So large and imposing even without accounting for it's physical stature in the equation – which was freakishly large – it was the sinister dark arcane energy flowing from it that struck fear into her very core. An evil power, forbidden in her school of magick, sought to drain the life essence straight out of Yoko and Trevor before she gathered enough of her wits to shield them as best she could from the vacuum. The wraith did not appreciate her cutting the feast down to rations, and now had turned it's full attention upon the stunned pair.

 

There are corpses, Yoko notices, littering the disarrayed chamber that opens up into an eerily still lake. Blackened husks are strewn about the upturned burning chairs, over a large stone table, or simply on the floor where they fell. Most of them... are mutilated. In torn pieces. It turns her stomach. She knows she's horrified, but she can't take her eyes off the body cavities torn wide open, organs in various states of spillage. The sight and stench is sickening, stomach and bowel contents oozing out of barely recognizable human remains. Yoko fights the urge to hurl, she can't do this, not now, not in front of such a terrifying threat, and forced her eyes back where they belong. On the wraith. Trevor pulls her back tighter to his side as they stare back at the monster peering in their direction, casually devouring a torn free organ... a heart, she thinks. When had she stepped so close? Why had she stepped so close!? The wraith let out a low growling sound, almost a purr in terms of how it rolled in the acoustics. It is not the noise of a fearful animal trying to scare them off. It is the noise of a pleased demon, about to get it's mark.

 

Horror in her eyes and a shudder making it's way down her spine, it's in that moment Yoko hears a low strained voice at her side utter the first word she'd heard in long-drawn weeks from the man. Trevor Belmont at last breaking his silence to voice a dangerously low, imminently urgent warning. “Dracula.”

 

For a few minutes as that dark power flares up against her ward, making her skin crawl and her aura combined with that of Joachim's flails out instinctively against the incoming Force of Will that has now singled her out specifically for the next attack, Yoko believes it. She believes wholeheartedly that the Witch has somehow pulled off her scheme. Even though the Castle feels locked behind the Veil still, and fading fast from the access point in this country, that this Witch has done it. She's caught it, or at least a tendril of it, and already succeeded where Graham Jones and Celia Fortner failed. She's half-resurrected this wraith of Dracula, incomplete and feral, but a fraction of unfathomable chaotic power was still too much in anyone's right mind. But then as the red glowing eyes, milky white at the pupils, bore into her, her mind stumbles across the terrible truth. The tangled filthy hair and beard, grime, gore, injuries upon his body, wild expression, and then the sickening evil energy emanating from deep within... None of this could keep hidden that the monster intent on preying upon her next is the very Dhampyre they have come to rescue. And as soon as she realizes the grim fact, it seems Trevor arrives at the same conclusion as well.

This shadow of Dracula... Is Alucard.

 

The hunter at her side is quick to cut between them, to intercept the Moroi with the murderous glint in his glowing red eyes before Alucard can reach her. Yoko stands there briefly, stupidly, stunned. Thinking, has she ever seen Alucard's eyes glow like that before today? Before this very moment? Red eyes, yes. But seemingly burning up from inside like they are now? It's a pretty foolish and pointless thing to wonder about when death was coming for her. The wraith-like apparition of her friend and partner pivots quite suddenly, as if afraid to even risk being touched by Trevor Belmont. Whatever voice Trevor had found to warn her about Pseudo-Dracula over here, he's seemingly lost again, as Yoko can see how desperate he is to just say Alucard's name... The real one. The one his parents gave to Alucard, who in turn gave to Trevor to use, that Yoko respectfully did not, because the Dhampyre never gave it to her. But she does now in an attempt to break him from the survivalist spell the wounded Dhampyre is clearly under.

 

“Adrian!” The name is foreign and weird on her tongue, and it has no visible effect she can see, so she tries again. “Alucard!” That one sounds more natural, her tone softer and steadier than she feels, conveying how deeply torn and concerned she is to have found him in such a broken, frightening state. His head does not even jerk in her direction. She can see his ears moving, but they are twisting in seemingly random ways, as they do when he is trying to narrow in on a sound's origin. It's like he can't hear her at all, she starts to fear. Alucard is preoccupied, doing his best to stay out of Trevor Belmont's range, careless of the bodies, upturned furniture, boxes, crates... Anything tripping him up or was in his way he crashed or stumbled over trying to keep a wide berth from Trevor. Or... Was he really so careless?

 

Yoko stepped forward, wards held high to protect from the drain, to get a closer look. His glowing red eyes were... Glassy. The pitch black pupil even when his irises bled red with hunger or anger that she expected to see, was instead a filmy white. Almost scar tissue-like in appearance. Was it that Alucard... Couldn't actually see Yoko or Trevor? He didn't seem capable of hearing them either. She watched his body turn as he stumbled to keep Trevor Belmont at bay, but she could see Alucard was not following the hunter with those milky glass eyes. Her stomach dropped. Is he... Blind? Did these witches out here in the woods blind her friend, she wondered painfully. Anger and despair replaced the horror and fear up-churning her gut. How dare they!? How dare a random assortment of misanthropes mutilate another living being!? She stepped closer still. The red and black stripes on his skin, they were burns, far too numerous in number to count, and made from consecrated silver. She'd seen what it did to demon flesh more than enough times to know. The burns were primarily concentrated on his shoulders and backside, but they were everywhere in the end. No part of Alucard had been spared. His flesh was mottled with angry red lesions and abrasions, arms lashed with the same deep stripes of char as she found on his thighs, knees, and shins. He was a mess. He had been tortured. He had been mutilated. It was no wonder there was no getting through to him.

 

In a mire of heartache and pity for her dear friend, Yoko's guard dropped. Understandable given the revelations made, but that was her dire first mistake. She'd known better, too. Yoko had seen Alucard feral half a year ago. It seemed so much farther away than it was in reality. It was probably why she had forgotten, briefly, the painful lesson learned that day in the hospital room. That Alucard was Moroi, and within him was everything that came with being demon. Agency lost, he was feral. So when in her moment of weakness her ward faltered, the wild animal backed into a corner seized the opportunity she allowed to counterattack. Dark forbidden energy skewered through her, momentarily robbing her of both the air in her lungs and the strength in her legs. The drain on her life-force resumed, feeding into the Dhampyre's black aura. In the precious seconds she had to realize how wrong she'd been to allow herself the distraction of such emotions, she could see that even Trevor Belmont had now been knocked off his feet and struggled to find them. Struggled against the Force of Will. Struggled against the drain on his vitality Yoko had allowed by being a idiot.

 

Alucard did not waste his opening and the crushing weight of him pouncing on her small body was as painful as it was terrifying. “Alucard, stop!” She tried in vain, gritting out her pleas in complete agony. “It's me, Yoko!” His ears did not twitch, nor his eyes move. As if he could not register anything familiar in the body he was about to assault. His vile sneer and viscous laughter set her veins to ice.

 

“Snap, snap, snap.” Raw hiss of a voice let out, a cruel smile twisting the face of a man she knew was anything but what he displayed right now.

 

Yoko failed to cry out as his fingers – the ones not crushing her throat as her voice was choked off, pinned as she was to the ground – dug into her side, claws shredding straight through her jacket, her shirts, and then her skin. Fraught with abject terror she tried to buck him off her frame, but of course the Dhampyre was so large and so heavy, the act was futile. She was pinned and her vision was fading from a one-two punch of lack of oxygen and stabbing, slicing pain. Then to further add to the nightmare Alucard...moaned. There was no other word for the noise escaping him as his sharp-tipped digits wriggled deeper inside her until he found what he was looking for. There was an intense pain and an audible snap.

 

Strangled or not, Yoko screamed. The noise her snapping rib dragged out of the rest of her body one positive thing. Her focus was now drawn back on the present moment, all senses heightened and firing on all pistons. The energy line threaded through her pulsed strongly, and Yoko would later swear that she could feel the Vampyre Joachim still tethered to her aura give her that metaphysical push needed to get her back into action. She pulled on that lifeline of Joachim's shared pool the demon surged into her grasp, flooded her agonized body with it, in turn overwhelming Alucard's ability to siphon it off her. Free to channel, with electricity crackling at her fingertips, she pressed her palms against the torso eclipsing her and let the power burn right through the Dhampyre menace's flesh. The intensity of it literally blew him off her, sending him careening back into the stone table with enough force to crumble the edge of it.

 

Pain still pulsing and air hard to gulp when every breath pulled at her broken rib, Yoko still clambered to her feet, ready in time to bat away the Dhampyre's retaliatory Hellfire. This next dance she intended to win, deflecting his magick and then throwing more at his assault then he could eat away at with whatever this essence-draining ability he'd been hiding from them which he was currently abusing. It seemed to disorient the Dhampyre, the overflow and excess of energy. He looked uncertain, like he no longer knew where to fire off his attacks. Aura's of course. He's been tracking our aura's to fight us. So with everything Joachim's giving me, he can't tell what's what anymore. She pulled on so much of Joachim's power Alucard was blasted back down to the ground a second time and then she even had enough in reserve to slam down more powerful wards over her side of the battle. To protect her self while she prepared the final trap, but also to shield Trevor, who having taken the full brunt of the original drain was just now getting his bearings. It truly was an evil, devil-spawn arcane art that Alucard was throwing around so easily. A spell that could devour one's very soul. It must be why she'd never seen him use it before. It was not a power to be used lightly... if ever.

 

With Trevor re-entering the fray and Yoko's Vampyre assisted disorienting power surge, Alucard's singular focus upon her broke, and instead of continuing the flurry of spells flung her way, he now dodged. The Dhampyre, for whatever reason, seemed to be as afraid of coming into contact with Trevor Belmont as he was intent on tearing her to pieces. She could see Trevor quickly surveying the unfolding situation as he moved. Her laboured panting and pain along with the telling blood soaking her side and down her pant leg. The dark energy eating away at the shell Yoko kept him bubbled safely within. How suddenly stricken with fear the formerly vicious Dhampyre was of the one person he loved so much, Alucard had walked off alone into the place they now stood. Alucard was only here because he loved Trevor Belmont. She could see the conflict play out across Trevor's face. Yoko was his family. Alucard was just as loved by Trevor as the Dhampyre loved him. He didn't want to hurt his 'Adrian' just as much as he couldn't let Alucard continue to hurt her.

 

In spite of everything Alucard had just done to her... She felt the same. “He's blind and wild!” She called out to the hunter over the roar of flames and crackling thunder. “And he's either unwilling or unable to listen to reason!” With a gasp of sudden, sharp stabbing pain to her rib, Yoko grit out. “I think we need to take him out, Trevor. We need to subdue him. He is far and beyond talking it out at this point.”

 

Her plan of attack Trevor reluctantly agreed with. The whip at his side once again unlatched and the hunter sprung into action. Tide now turning in her favour, Yoko advanced, gauging when and how she could take the Dhampyre down with her trap, hopefully without too much permanent damage. They just had to get him under control. Make him realize who they were and listen to what they had to say. Make him understand that they didn't want to hurt him anymore than he already had been maimed by these cruel witches' torture tactics. Alucard was now openly fearful, trying to stay away from a hunter who was swift and harboured no such handicaps as injury or blindness. In spite of severe reluctance painting his expression, Trevor was able to corner the Dhampyre with the aid of a few well aimed silver throwing blades tossed with only the intent to drive the Dhampyre where he wanted him.

 

It was a dangerous, deadly tango between the two, Trevor Belmont stepping in tune with the demon in the dark, always gaining ground, always closing in on his chosen dance partner, no matter how much Hellfire the Dhampyre threw in his direction. Trevor moved between the flows, singing little more than his clothing, hands busy mixing up a vial of what turned out to be the same alchemical formula Julius utilized to make his holy water bombs. It had to be a Belmont family recipe, Yoko distantly surmised. The shock of the holy assault allowed Trevor to make that final leap, landing on the Dhampyre to deftly restrain him with the very whip Alucard had made for him with Yoko's help. It was almost poetic.

 

The Dhampyre keened in what was clearly a cry of shock and fear, but restrained or not, his strength was the desperate surge of a terrified animal, and he almost looked as if he may escape the hunter's hold. Trevor struggled to get the loop around Alucard's arms tight, and catch and encircle each of his wrists with the taut leather, his light weight in comparison to the Dhampyre's a clear detriment to the task. Yoko watched the struggle intently until she at last found her perfect moment to strike. Sending thin dagger shards of ice directly into Alucard's main elbow and knee joints – Thank you, Ms. Martin's Biology classes! – which incapacitated him just enough for Trevor to finally get the leverage he needed to secure Alucard in place. Physically restrained and weakened by the consecrated silver threaded weapon against his flesh, Yoko was at last able to slide a seal down on him. He could flare up all the arcane arts he wished, they weren't leaving his body while she was around to say otherwise.

 

The pitiful Dhampyre was letting out a dreadful, mournful sound. Defeated and anguished. Just... An awful noise. It was heartbreaking how terrified he was of them. Even still, he snarled at Trevor who pulled him in close, teeth and fangs bared. No amount of gentle touches, or trying to sooth terrified nerves seemed like it was able to get through to the feral Dhampyre. They had him, subdued. Captured... for lack of a better word. They had technically won the battle, but were now at a loss of what to do with their spoils of war.

 

Without any other ideas, Yoko tried speaking to him again. Maybe he would be able to listen now that he could not fight. “Alucard... Please try to calm down. It's your favourite sexy sorceress and the love of your life here. We are just trying to help you, Al.” Nothing but desperate struggling snarls and glassy milk-white wide eyes in response. “Al, can you understand me at all? Are you even hearing me?” Again the Dhampyre gave no sign that he had, and Yoko was not enjoying the struggle it was to clamp down and seal his magick with Trevor Belmont so close. “Maybe try knocking him out? I am having a hell of a hard time keeping him from roasting you alive at this angle, Trevor.” As if to punctuate how super not easy it was keeping the son of Dracula in the time-out chair, Yoko missed patting down an errant flow, leaving Trevor Belmont to pull a strained expression in response to the heat rash immediately evident on his left hand and forearm. “Seriously, how do you take down a Dhampyre without staking him through the heart? Please tell me you have a solution to this problem we have, famous Vampyre Hunter of Old.”

 

Trevor, giving her a forlorn apologetic look, simply shook his head, and Yoko wasn't sure she knew what to make of that. Was it that he did not know of one? Or did he know but he wasn't properly equipped to do it? Was he puzzling out a plan? Was he going to tell her the plan? Did they just stay here forever and this was their whole life now? Or... Was Alucard really about to get skewered right before her eyes after all the trouble the went though to get him safely in hand? She hoped not, as she watched Trevor shift enough to maintain the hold while still freeing up a hand to cup Alucard's face. His grip was gentle but firm, sliding around the back to avoid getting chomped on while he twisted the Dhampyre's face towards the light, all in service of assessing the damage. Yoko didn't like what she saw from her few feet away. He was certainly blind, and now she was also starting to suspect deaf as well. All the flesh on him that did not have blood stains looked rubbed raw with sandpaper or something equally abrasive. Alucard didn't respond well when Trevor placed that same hand against his chest, uncaring of the gore still splashed there. Rather his eyes were drawn to the blood splatter, a thoughtful expression quietly spreading across his face. It was a silent Belmont Pause, Yoko realized. The affectionate term Alucard had for Trevor's inward escapes coming to her from out of the blue.

 

It took a minute for her to register Trevor was now staring at her, waiting. Holding her gaze the hunter sighed, committed now to something, and then gave her a brief, but broad disarming smile. A silent 'trust me.' Yoko didn't like that. Not one bit. What bright idea could possibly stem from running your hand through a complete stranger's blood splattered on the chest of the guy you were sleeping with? None, is what Yoko would have said. But not Trevor fucking Belmont! Trevor fucking Belmont did not think like normal people. Yoko opened her mouth to ask what he was going to do but instead what came out was a strangled, panicked “What the fuck, Trevor!?” As the hunter struggled to get the Dhampyre angled in such a way, using that free hand to shield the very most vulnerable part of his naked throat.

 

Stupid plan in action and still holding that whip restraint taut as hell, for good reason, Trevor fucking Belmont then decided it was a great idea to pull the seething feral Dhampyre in close, turning his head to the side at that last vital moment in order to facilitate that feral savage Dhampyre's goal of sinking his teeth into the captor that held him. The angle of the bite as orchestrated by Trevor was more on the left side, closer to the bone and muscle near the back, and less of a throat-tearing kind, but it was still dangerous and completely idiotic to let a Vampyre, half or otherwise, get you exactly where they wanted you. No one who had those fangs in them got away. No one but... well... A Belmont. It didn't work on them unless they wanted it to. Still.

 

“Seriously, Trevor, what the fuck!?” She spat again. It looked painful. Nothing like the seductive nip and suckle in all those Vampyre romance movies and novels. It was an ugly messy chomp. There was an attempt to tear, but muscle and bone were not as forgiving as skin and veins, and as Joachim had succinctly put it, Alucard's fangs were tiny... and cute. Like a kitten's in comparison to a lion. So it looked painful, but Trevor would live. It would just be another scar on that too thin body one day.

 

Apparently Yoko needed to learn to have a little faith. Against all odds, after barely sixty seconds of contact with Trevor's blood spilling out the corners of his mouth, Alucard at last stilled. His anguished and fearful expression smoothed out into a unworldly calm. The oppressive Hellspawn energy simply winked out, glowing red eyes faded to pallid yellow, and then a milky, rosy, pinkish colour she had never seen them change into before. After the pink, if they changed again she couldn't have said, as the Dhampyre closed his eyes and his entire frame relaxed into the Hunter's restrictive restraints. Leaning his entire body into the flesh that was presented to him, Alucard simply drank quietly from the well that had been the messy wound the initial bite... chomp... started as. When Trevor unlooped his wrists, he used the freedom of movement only to slide his hands into place, one around the back of Trevor's head and the other to grip at his hip to start, before sliding neatly up into place at the narrowest part of the hunter's waist. After another quiet minute or two, Trevor decided it was over. A deft flick of his wrist freed Alucard completely from the silver weapon and gathered it together to re-hook. They'd won.

 

He would have to forgive Yoko for keeping the seal and wards up. She wasn't as trusting when it came to feral Moroi. So he would have to forgive her as well for not giving them the privacy to indulge in whatever it was they were doing in the cradle of the witch coven. She kept her eyes and senses tuned on Alucard in case he lashed out again unexpectedly, passively watching her great-grandfather use his new freedom of movement to reciprocate the gentle embrace... Gentle when you discounted that one of them was currently lapping up the blood of the other one. Fuck knows, maybe Trevor was into that sort of thing. Still, after a few more minutes of silence save the water lapping at the rocks just beyond and the tongue lapping up the blood just before, Trevor used that gentle but firm touch to pull Alucard from the wound. His face was strained from the pain of the nasty bruising bite, but otherwise he just observed what was to come next. Whatever it could be, Trevor did not seem worried about it. Just ready.

 

Looking at the wound now without Alucard attached to it, overall Yoko decided she had won the award for most badass battle-scar. The Moroi Menace had broken her fucking rib. But he seemed soooo done to her when she studied his face, settling Yoko's internal debate. She dropped her seal but kept the wards. She wasn't going to drop those until she was back in her bed in Wallachia. It hurt to breathe, so this whole witch thing could go fuck itself.

 

There were tears slowly building and falling from those pink cloudy eyes, Yoko noticed suddenly. Alucard felt around Trevor's body to find the injury he'd caused, closing his hand down on it as if he could make the blood spilling all go away, take all the pain back, with just some pressure and a sorrowful expression.

 

“I missed you so much...” The Dhampyre's voice was rough, low, and beyond strained. “The thought of you kept me grounded... kept me sane. I dreamed you would come every hour, but I never wanted you to, Trevor. I fucked up so badly, you have no idea. You have no idea and now it's not safe for you. Especially here.” The Moroi was rambling, but in such an exhausted state, it was slow and laboured instead of the usual frenetic pace a ramble usually ran at. “I am unable to hear or see you, Trevor. I don't even know if I am talking sense. I have no idea if you can understand me. But if you can...” Trevor was quick to take his hand and give a squeeze. This gave the Dhampyre pause, and he hedged a questions. “Can you understand me? Am I making any kind of sense?” Another squeeze. “Do it twice if it's true.” So Trevor obliged, and the Dhampyre let out a half whimper, half laugh. “It's really you. You really came for me.” Another two squeezes, and with that matter settled Alucard lost the last of what was keeping him on his feet. If it wasn't for Trevor, he'd be laid out face first on the floor.

 

Yoko knew from experience that Alucard was heavy as fuck, so she didn't judge Trevor too harshly when the pair of them ended up on the floor anyway after a while, if a more comfortable curl and cradle around each other than what would have been Alucard's attempt to bring planking back into style. The wounded subdued Dhampyre looked so torn between relief and regret, but it didn't seem to be for the reasons Yoko was expecting, like being a big dumb idiot who decided to go out into the murder death suicide forest solo looking for a witch because he was butthurt his loverboy was wronged and he didn't know how to fix it. No, instead he seemed entirely convinced that as happy as he was to 'see' Trevor, he really needed the hunter to get the fuck out of the witch cave pronto. Even if it meant leaving him behind. Which was also very stupid and idiotic of him, considering Yoko could tell that whatever the life draining power he had been using was, without actual life-forces to consume as fuel, he had instead consumed himself during their battle. The man... half-man... whatever.... was dead on his feet. Not even on his feet. He was dead on his ass. And he was Moroi. He was half-dead to begin with!

 

“I am so sorry, Trevor.” The Dhampyre was now stuck on repeat, apologizing over and over for various things. For leaving Trevor. For scaring him. For making him come here where he was not safe to get Alucard when Trevor really needed to get the fuck out of the witch cave before some Esteffi found him. But also for random weird things that Yoko had to assume happened hundreds of years ago. Like making him sing half a night to distract Alucard from the pain of some burns... Obviously not these current burns. He apologized for grabbing Trevor so inappropriately by a fountain. He apologized for insisting Trevor wear the dress so many time, and Yoko really, really wanted to know the story behind that one apology. Based on how fast and how deeply red Trevor flushed, the Dress Incident had to be a great campfire tale. He apologized for everything and anything, murmuring them all into the hunter's sweater where his face was buried, lifting his head only to next apologize for something Yoko felt was precious and intimate, and not meant for her ears at all. “I kept thinking about everything you've ever said to me, every exchange, every little moment. I wanted to remember them all so I could take them with me if I died here. I'm so sorry I never realized, Trevor... You told me and I never realized. I never... I was so caught up in the moment. You were so beautiful it distracted me from what you were really confessing. That night in Lupu... You let me see you. All of you, you said. You told me I was the only person you ever wanted to let see all of you...” Alucard cracked, and... Trevor followed suite in response. Whatever secret moment the Dhampyre was now apologizing for, it was obviously an apology Trevor had been waiting years to hear. “You were mine that night. You have been since then, and I never realized until now... But I see you, Trevor. Even blind and deaf, I see all of you right now.”

 

The moment was pregnant with so many possibilities, said and unsaid even an outsider like herself looking in could see. Heartache, longing, and so many bittersweet things all played across Trevor's face as his tears freely fell. There was a change in him Yoko observed, almost imperceptibly small, but it was still there for a trained eye to perceive. How the sharpness of the hunter's features smoothed out by an open vulnerability. How his self-assured and often borderline smug mask fell by the wayside, leaving this... Soft, delicate and fragile bereft beauty, looking back at the blind Dhampyre as if Alucard was the one being Trevor wanted to completely surrender to. As if Alucard was already his keeper, and he had been waiting until this very moment to know he could finally be kept. That little shift that had just taken place changed everything about Trevor Belmont, and Yoko finally saw it. She saw why Alucard, the veritable god amongst men in her humble opinion, was so enamoured by this previously ordinary looking guy. Without permission, she found herself now looking at Trevor Belmont how he must let Alucard alone see him. Purely besotted, devoted, offering every last shred of himself for the Dhampyre to take. She'd never seen somebody look that in love before, and maybe she never would again. It all made sense now, however. Why Alucard was just as entrenched as he was, and seemed happy to suffer through so much petty bullshit. Under all of the posturing was a man that could look back at him with such all-consuming love. Who wouldn't put up with the silly stuff around that to keep it?

 

But then, like a broken record, Alucard ruins his hard-won total seduction of the hunter by kicking back into his firm initial argument. The hunter, in return, looked like he wished he could groan. “I'm such a fuck-up... Please, you need to leave. It's not safe for you here.”

 

Trevor, who seemed to have a lot of patience for someone who didn't come across as someone with any patience at all, overtly hit his limit with this final loop, tears drying, and mask slamming back down into place. Contrary to how he looked just moments ago, he was still required to be strong and self-assured, after all. Alucard wasn't going to be able to keep him if the Dhampyre remained in such a sorry state of health. Pulling Alucard up from where he huddled into the hunter's arms, Trevor used his index finger to scratch the big capital letters 'N' followed by 'O' on Alucard's chest. “You don't understand, Trevor. I really fucked up. I fucked us all up and the only thing she needs now is you. You can't be here. Please, just go!” Trevor spelled out 'no' again, and when Alucard continued to protest he did it thrice, this time with an exclamation mark whose dot he poked so hard into the Dhampyre, it made him wince. “But the witch... she just...” He seemed to trail off. “The witch.” His features changing rapidly, confusion, realization, horror, and finally settling on remorse. “The witch!” He exclaimed as best he could in that raspy worn out voice. “I thought you were the witch and her fucking pet, Trevor. That's why I attacked you, but you weren't the pet, you're you! Who... Who was the witch?” He asked, looking like he already knew the answer. “Did I..? I... I hurt her. Yoko.” Trevor sighed and gave two squeezes of a hand, and that broke Alucard all over again. “I thought you two were them, I really did. I didn't... I really didn't mean to...”

 

At this point, they were in deep danger and as much as Alucard had clearly, very evidently, gone through, they did really need him to get it together enough to get the hell out of here. This was a dead-end area with only one exit. There was no way Alucard was going to be able to swim through a lake without his fancy little charm to protect him. So Yoko stepped into range and knelt down by his side, gingerly placing a hand on his shoulder, on a swatch of skin that was free of blood and gore. The Dhampyre slid his bloodied hand over it and Yoko allowed in spite of the squick factor because her friend needed to know she was okay, and that she wasn't mad. Not right now, anyway. She thread her other hand into his gross-ass hair and gave a few soothing little scratches, before removing it to take his large hand in both of hers.

 

“Yoko...” She gave two squeezes of her own. “Are you... all here? Julius too?” Another two affirmative squeezes later and Alucard looked more relieved that guilty. “Then will you both please get Trevor out of here before that cunt and her serial rapist get back here and take him!?”

 

“Wow.” Yoko choked. She was not expecting that out of him. Really... looking at the state of him, it was deserved. But still wow.

 

“I have fucked up so badly and Trevor is the only singular thing standing in her way now. She can't get him, Yoko. She absolutely cannot get her hands back on him!”

 

Trevor seemingly had enough and stood, dumping the love of his life on the ground like little more than a sack of potatoes. Yoko was a bit surprised, finding it a little harsh, not C-word harsh, but still harsh. But something across the room had caught Trevor's attention, so Yoko left him to it and tried to calm a now frantic Dhampyre through hand squeezes and face strokes alone, to try and communicate that no, a witch and the Lilû had not just bust in to sweep Trevor Belmont away. Thankfully Trevor returned shortly, throwing black fabric straight into Alucard's face. The Dhampyre patted around to find what had been tossed at him, nose flaring slightly as he took in the scent.

 

“These are my clothes.” He concluded, and he was right. It was the plain under shirt and pants he wore on hunts, under his dress-shirt – Yoko never asked and he never explained – and the fancy coat and cloak. Trevor also knelt back down and took them from his hands, separating top from bottom and giving the shirt to Yoko. She assumed to dress the naked man and not to admire the thread count. Which felt really high and luxurious for an undershirt. Rich people, right? She was glad she got the face part and not the dick part to dress. Trevor was quite considerate to divvy it up that way. “I can barely move. I'm just going to slow you down.” Alucard tried to protest as she got his arms up enough to thread through the sleeves. Trevor took a moment from shimmying the pants up to reach out and traced a few underlines where he had previously written the big 'NO!', as if to emphasize it even further. No, Trevor would not be leaving without him. He then added a pinch as if to say 'So quit trying to tell me go.'

 

“You'll be the death of me one day, Trevor Belmont.” Alucard relented, almost too exhausted to raise his voice to an audible level. “I'm so sorry how badly I've fucked the last five hundred and fifty-eight years up.”

 

Trevor pulled him to his feet and tried to take a few test steps, but Yoko worriedly could see the Dhampyre wasn't lying about the wretched state he was in. Alucard could barely stay on the feet she just noticed were bandaged. It seemed there was literally nowhere on his body that had not been harmed in some way, and that set her blood back to a boil. This new issue proved troublesome, but Trevor gave another of those silent versions of the Belmont Pause, studying the resigned Dhampyre before his features suddenly brightened. Letting Alucard lean against him, he took a hand and started to draw out letters on the demon's palm. Just three, and Yoko could not make them out. Neither could Alucard, so Trevor did it again, slower. When Alucard guessed 'BAT' correctly, Trevor gave those signature two squeezes. The new YES was catching on.

 

“I... suppose I can try. It is the easiest form for me to take other than my own.” The Dhampyre whispered. It was not a smooth transformation by a long shot. Nor quick. But he did, in fact, manage it after some effort. Sitting on the ground as a beaten up ragged looking little flying rat, Alucard was scooped up by Trevor and placed in the hood of his sweater, crawling around until his little black bat head poked out over Trevor's shoulder. And there it was. The solution to the large heavy burden to carry conundrum. Now Alucard was portable.

 

Trevor was looking pretty pleased with his problem solving, and Yoko had to hand it to him. The thought hadn't even crossed her mind. She had already been looking at bookshelves to break down and fashion into a stretcher. “Well, I was going to say we should get him out of here stat, but since he's a convenient little carry-on now, you want to make sure Jules and the Creep are still alive before we all four hightail it out of here together?” Honestly they were pretty lucky nobody had come this way already to check out all the commotion.

 

Trevor was in agreement so Yoko took charge and lead the way back up, if only to hide how much she winced and grit her teeth with each step. Breaking a rib was not fun. She did not recommend it. The wide room above will still empty as they drew closer, but a faint humming could be heard down the other break-away in the stone. Yoko bit the bullet and picked her hesitant path over carefully, stepping into the even gloomier hallway than the one she had just found herself in. Looking for positives, at least this one had some head-clearance. No hunching or doubling over required. Which was great, cause Yoko wasn't exactly sure how she was going to do that without screaming when it was time to climb out the way they'd come in.

 

The humming grew louder the further down they went, and it became easier to pinpoint where the echoing sound was originating from. It was one of these dormitory looking rooms. Yoko drew on Joachim's well of power and stepped inside, fingers a-crackling with arcane lightning ready to blow up the next witch she laid eyes on... Only to find Joachim himself. Well. Joachim and yet another nightmare hellscape vision she would forever have burned into her brain. Seriously, what was it with these Moroi and their totally fucked up methods of murder? Did they all play with their food?

 

Joachim, who lay out on the floor with a limp looking body tucked up against his side, was the source of the humming, because of course he was. It was a tune caught somewhere between circus and cabaret that Yoko found sufficiently creepy and on brand for the Vampyre. It really paired quite well with the morbid carousel of dead fucking bodies he had spinning around near the ceiling, impaled on his ghostly little swords, the blood from the little rotating dance lightly raining down. Yoko was going to see this and wake up in a cold sweat for months. Maybe years. She still hadn't even allowed her self to process what she saw Alucard doing in the basement. All signs pointed to yes that that sight was going to be a doozy to get over. She was going to have to hire a therapist for that one. As for Trevor... well Trevor Belmont seemed less horrified than Yoko, but he clearly didn't approve of corpse desecration. Even the corpses of people who had hurt his one and only Dhampyre as terribly as they had.

 

“Where is Julius?” Yoko demands to know from the doorway, right to the point. She didn't want to have anything to do with what was going on in this room.

 

The humming stopped, but that morbid murder carousel kept on keeping on. Round and round those limp bodies went.

 

“I am glad to see you lived, girl. Your fear was so strong I could taste it.” Joachim answered a question she wasn't asking. “I could have done without feeling your bones break, but it's been a long time since dear Walter broke any of mine for the purpose of an attitude adjustment, so I suppose I welcome the memory. The Rabbit and yourself make a fine fighting pair.”

 

“Jules, Joachim. Where is my cousin?” She tried again, refusing to engage. “I am assuming since you're here, we're in the clear. No one else is home? No High Priestess?”

 

“I am assuming since you are here you have what is mine? Where is he?” Joachim asked, infuriatingly refusing to answer the simple question.

 

“Use your eyeballs, Vampyre man.” Joachim finally did at her sass, glancing over in their direction to see the little black bat head poking out over Trevor's right shoulder. “Now where is Jules, you weirdo?”

 

“The old man ran off chasing what he swore was your Shadow Monster.” Joachim answered absently, climbing to his feet while subsequently dumping the slight body that had been curled at his side. His focus was so entirely on the black bat, he even shoved Trevor's head aside to better look at the ratty thing hiding in his hood. “Oh, Kitten. I can hardly sense you at all. What am I supposed to do with you like this? You are dying right in front of my eyes.”

 

That comment got Trevor's attention and he shoved Joachim back with a soundless snarl of his own. The Vampyre did not bristle, react in anger, or even make any smug comments towards the violent act perpetuated against him even though Yoko knew Joachim to only ever escalate an issue. He always retaliated to a slight. He never deescalated. Except today he did, apparently. Must be opposite day.

 

“Trevor.” The Vampyre began gently. Yeah, Yoko had to un-swallow her tongue at that. Gentle! Imagine that! “I need to get him out of here if he is to have any chance of surviving. We are Moroi. We don't fade away slowly like a human over days, dragging it out so dramatically. If we run out of essence then that's it. We keel over. Adrian is extremely close to keeling over. I cannot guarantee that he will pull through.”

 

This comment got Yoko's attention, so she inhaled sharply and thought fast. “Can't you just rope him in like you did with me? Let him use yours like I have been?”

 

“It's different spiritual wells. Usable and innate. You are not tethered to what is keeping me alive, girl. I am not stupid enough to let you do that.” Then in a lower mumble, he admitted. “Nor do I even know how to share life itself with another. I might for Adrian if I did.” The swords cut out and the bodies flopped to the floor with a sickening crunch. “Give him to me.”

 

Trevor hesitated, reaching a hand out to press against Joachim's chest. He had to work his way through coat, harness and shirt to do so, but once those tapered slender fingers splayed out across the Vampyre's flesh, Trevor closed his eyes. Yoko watched their silent little private convo play out a little jelly she couldn't have secret handshakes and stuff too. But from her tether to Joachim's power, she did get flashes of deep sorrow. His heart rate quickening. A bizarre sense of humour about the whole situation. Strangely, she was almost sure she was skimming some of her grandfather's second-hand emotions as well, filtered through Joachim's connection with the hunter and then into her through theirs. Then she felt a sudden out of body awareness of herself, as if she was looking at Yoko the human witch while also being that same Yoko. She continued to feel overly seen until she felt a door slam on her. Tethered as they were or not, Joachim apparently could also decide when he wanted to have a sharing session about his feelings, and sharing time was over.

 

“I suppose it is fortunate we do not necessarily need to speak words for him to understand us then, now do we Little One?” Joachim spoke softly, still in that gentle patient tone that did not suit the image Yoko had of him in the slightest. The man had just had a murder mobile going on for funsies. He was still speckled with that morbid carousel's collective blood. It was even in his hair. “Girl, grab that one for your old man.” Joachim's voice firmed and he used only his head to gesture at that abandoned body on the middle of the floor. His hands were occupied, one cupping Trevor's face, the other petting Alucard. “He wanted a witness to interrogate so I saved him the child. We need to leave.”

 

“Child?” Yoko sputtered briefly before crossing the nearest corpse to investigate the seemingly lifeless slight little body in the centre of the room. Sure enough... It was a teenager. She looked fifteen trying to look twenty-five. There was nothing remarkable about her aside from a pretty sick tattoo of a curved sword at the nape of her neck. She was willowy and average in height. Hair blonde, but that ashy kind. She looked dead at first glance, but now that the sorceress was close, Yoko could see her chest's gradual rise and fall. The girl was... catatonic maybe? In shock, most likely. Who knows what she witnessed with Joachim in the mix. “Hey...” She started lamely, unsure what to do with this girl that had been 'spared'. “We're going to get out of here now, and you're going to come with me, okay. I think that is for the best.” With the girl giving her best Trevor Belmont Early Days Truth Bombshell impression, blinking slowly up at her and not responding in any other fashion, Yoko apologized and tugged her to her feet, wincing at the pain it caused her side. They just didn't have time for any of this right here and now. Joachim said Alucard was dying, but it sounded like he must know some way to fix it. “Let's go. I hope Jules chased that Shadow Monster out of the cave and he's just waiting for us.”

 

She meant what she said. That was exactly the plan in mind when she turned on her heel pulling the zombie girl along after her, and she didn't have any exceptions pencilled in to get distracted from it. She wanted to leave. Not just the cave, but this entire country. She was beyond done with everything. Thankfully the girl was too traumatized or whatever to be anything but quiet and obedient at the moment, so she followed along without much tugging. Tugging hurt Yoko's rib. “So what happened?” She asked over her shoulder to Joachim, who was following Trevor, silver eyes locked on the wounded bat placed back in his hood. “Before Jules ran off. Did you see the High Priestess?”

 

“No, nothing like that. Just a bunch of women wrapping up an alter room. They are long gone, the bulk of them. The old man was quite disappointed to learn that fact. They did not seem too keen on speaking so we dealt with them in another fashion. That was fun for a while. These are not your ordinary witches, that is for certain. They put up quite a fight.” All this information was easily relayed in that same passive, distracted way he had answered her before, so consumed with whatever was going on in his head, no doubt concerning Alucard... His Kitten. “Some of them tried to break away so I followed and cut them off, driving them into that room you found me in. The old man wanted a witness, as I said, and since he specified he preferred the child not die, that is the one I saved as a courtesy for coming to help my Kitten.”

 

“Then what?” She prompted when Joachim fell back into studious silence, leading her small entourage almost back into the main gathering hall.

 

“Then the old man said he could sense it. That Shadow Monster of yours. I watched him run passed the doorway to the chamber I was playing in, uttering some very vile threats to whatever he was chasing. I'll give him credit due. For a geriatric, the man sure can move.”

 

“And you didn't... help him?” Yoko asked in the middle of the gathering hall, turning sharply to look at Joachim. “You don't even know what he was chasing.”

 

“Whatever it was, it didn't have any danger to it's aura. I could hardly even catch scent of it. It may be the single most natural scent on a living creature I've ever encountered. Would be a hell of a job to track by scent alone, so I didn't even bother to try. I am not here to chase shadows. I am here to get what is mine.” There was a sudden edge to Joachim's voice, but with little more than Trevor linking their arms like they were out to stroll the Parisian palace groves or some shit and some quiet plaintive urging, Joachim backed down and continued to walk, but only a few paces ahead of Yoko and her new charge before he halted abruptly and pulled Trevor behind him. That chivalrous thing Trevor had pulled with her, but unlike the hunter who had respected Yoko's wishes to stand at his side and fight, Joachim would not give that same hunter the same courtesy.

 

A lot of things seemingly happened at once.

 

While Yoko didn't sense anything, she had sucked in as much energy as she could hold in reserve. It proved almost immediately to be a good call, for in the centre of the pair of women that seemingly appeared out of thin air - odd couple stepping out into the gathering hall from where Yoko had found Alucard's massacre - was the far too beautiful raven haired woman that was the bane of Yoko's current existence. The High Priestess stepped ahead of her cronies, a mousy looking older woman with spectacles thicker that those collectible glass Coke bottles on one side, and the Goliath in human form on the other. Tanned bandaged arm raised sharply pointed an accusatory finger right at them. Yoko knew where they'd just come from, because it was the same damn mutilated deathscape that would be haunting her dreams for the rest of her life. She was already adding up the therapy bills, and wondering how much the Church insurance policy would cover. She knew why the woman seething before them was so damned pissed. It had been a bloodbath!

 

“You are responsible for this!” Her melodic voice hissed, so fucking pleasant to the ears even when she was sneering. Goddess, wasn't that just the worst, too? Fuck, did Yoko hate how far right on the Kinsey Scale listening to that musical little accusation was pushing her. Her loins were growing excited. Twitching with unwanted kegel exercises as each syllable slipped out. It had to be her pet. Now that had to be the Lilû's influence making her so enigmatic and sultry, right? How someone so hot could also be just so damn evil... It was criminal. It was an affront to hot sorceress the globe over. But if that raven-haired lady wanted to go down on her, Yoko would probably say yes. So here they all were.

 

Mulling the issue over, Yoko settled on her own unique solution to balance this out. Her famous fireballs. She decided to share the Belnades recipe and sent a few spicy ones out first, followed by peels of lightening interspersed with frigid gales and ice crystals. The gargantuan mountain woman was suave, smoothly throwing up a barrier that took some force to break through, which gave her High Priestess a chance to step back behind the mousy woman's secondary barrier. The aggravating stalling tactic at least gave Yoko the chance to see just how this woman was getting around and finding all her neat little hidey-holes. It seemed the High Priestess could sculpt the very earth and bedrock to her will. Straight up element manipulation of a form she has never seen in action before. Her grimoire held no such spells, and her Mother had never mentioned such an arcane talent before. The High Priestess warped the stone of the wall behind her and urged her mousy follower through, leaving only the Big Guns and her very big barriers.

 

“A little help, maybe!?” Yoko called out to Joachim, Trevor, fuck, even to the mute teenager behind her. Why was she the only one trying to take out the very reason they were all here to start? She chanced a look over to her side only to find Joachim quite occupied already, gaze caught on the shimmery ripple in the light moving along the ceiling. It all came together, clicking in her mind. The pet. Yoko gasped. She gasped again, choking out the warning. “That's the Lilû, you Creep! That's the Shadow Monster!”

 

The Mountain woman also divided her attention, and now Yoko and she were having a distracted halfhearted fight amongst themselves while trying to keep an eye on the High Priestess' familiar who had decided to make a grand appearance. The shimmer's camouflage dropped, leaving the inky slinky little matte black creature on full display. It squat upside down on the ceiling, seeming to stare passed Joachim and at what the Vampyre was adamantly keeping safely behind him. At Trevor Belmont. Yoko knew this was not good. She couldn't give this wild card they knew nothing about any chance to scheme or whatever it was a Shadow Monster did. Divided attention and divided power, she sent some spicy meatballs in Lilû's directions if only to break Joachim out of his awestruck spell. This too gave her an up close and personal opportunity to see how the Shadow Monster worked, as she saw it's inky membrane stretch out into wings that bat away her fireballs, absorbing the remnants of the conjured energy within itself. Interestingly, from the impact, some of the oily looking substance separated from it's body, gliding like tiny little rainbow oil slicks on the water only in the air instead, before they reconstituted themselves back into the greater whole.

 

“No!” That pretty voice boomed out, and without any reason to lie, Yoko admitted she felt compelled to cease firing. The woman had a Force of Will. Somehow, she had access to demon powers or traits, and definitely that Lilû was the answer to this puzzling new development. Pissed as she was, it didn't stop Yoko, but it did make her hesitate just long enough to nearly get charbroiled by the Mountain. That was a dick-move. The High Priestess commanded again. “Maja, enough! We have come too far and we have what we want. We will not be dying on this hill.”

 

The Mountain obeyed, giving one last all-in attack that had to have depleted her reserve given the way she all but fell into the warping stone just beyond. The crash of energy was still too dangerous to lower her ward and do anything about the Witch and her Shadow just yet, but Yoko waited for the next opportunity she'd have. It was after all, just the pair of them against the two of them. Hopefully two if Joachim just would let Trevor fucking go free already to be a Belmont and do Belmont things, and another half, maybe, if the Vampyre deigned to give them one or two saving throws. Who knows what she could count on with him. He was already her spare battery. Maybe it was enough.

 

“Are you going to let him help me or what!?” She snapped at the Vampyre. “This bitch is why Kitten's all beat up you know that, right!?”

 

“Girl, really.” Joachim chose this exact moment to lecture passively. This exact moment she was shielding the lot of them from the Mountain's final devastating conjuration. “What is the point of revenge if you don't live to enjoy it? You were telling the truth all along, the lot of you. That is Lilû. My kind's progenitor. I am not going near our sire unless you give me one damn good reason to do so.”

 

“We're not after Lilû, dipshit! We want the High Priestess. Are you afraid of one measly little human Witch?”

 

“I fear nothing.” Joachim hissed back, that familiar crazed look returning to his eyes. It was almost kind of comforting to see him a nutcase again. He had been disturbingly reasonable for far too long a span of time for Yoko to ever fully trust what she thought about anyone every again. People were onions. Some really crazy onions. “Fine, Witch it is.” And then the ghost swords came out to play. “But I am not going near that thing, and neither are my pets. They are staying safely right over here.” When Trevor looked as if he was going to protest, Joachim turned sharply and hissed. “You will listen unlike Adrian who endlessly fails to do, Little Rabbit. You have one job at the junction, and that is to keep our stupid halfbreed alive. Am I clear?”

 

So it wasn't a fluke, Yoko mused, as Trevor had responded just the same way months ago when Julius pulled out the Dad-command voice, which was caving instantly. The hunter stepped back, weapons ready, not to help the frontal assault, but instead to protect the injured bat curled up in his hood. Maybe Trevor Belmont really did just need a firm masculine authority figure in his life to keep him on the straight and narrow. She'd think on that later when she had the time. It was fine anyway. She didn't have to spare the split seconds here and there worrying if Alucard was all right, weakened as he was. Trevor would keep him safe or die trying.

 

When the Mountain's – Maja, she guessed – spell finally ran out of juice, Yoko was faced with a singular woman coolly running her white-hot rage filled eyes over the Vampyre and herself. She stood close to her rippling wall of stone, half-way between running and staying for a showdown. Yoko had to wonder why she hadn't used Maja's distraction to just weasel out of harm's way like she did the last time. Was it that she too was overcome by emotion? Drawn from logic to distraction by her seething rage, unable to critically choose the best option she'd had, if she really didn't want to die on this hill? Yoko didn't want to wait to figure it out when she could just as easily ponder the reasons this woman was doing any of the things she did while throwing her body on a cleansing funerary pyre. So Yoko didn't. The Sorceress brought out the best she had in tandem with Joachim's swords only to be met not with the High Priestess' barrier or counter spells – although the woman did throw her own up with Maja gone – but the Shadow dropping down from his perch to protect his master.

 

The inky membrane served just as good as a magickal ward if not more via the large expansive wings stretching out. Every flap and shake brushing off their combined forces, but not without consequence. More and more of the oily substance was getting away from the main body, floating high up and out of reach from the heat of her flames. The substance, Yoko came to realize, was not infinite. There was a set amount of it the creature could use, and the more of it she chased away with her witch-fireballs, the more of it's body became exposed. The black peeling away from it's arms and legs first, shrinking down a low plunge on it's torso. The wings themselves were growing smaller, and the High Priestess still puzzlingly watched on. Like she was waiting for something? The Shadow wasn't attacking, only deflecting. Biding time for it's Master, obviously, but for what purpose?

 

That too was a question Yoko didn't have too long to wait for an answer. With the amount of shifting Joachim and Yoko had done trying to break through this nigh impenetrable inky wall, the High Priestess now had a direct line of sight to Trevor. The Trevor Belmont she had used as the key sacrifice to her Castle-seizing ritual. The ritual that would have worked if only they had arrived a half or even a quarter hour too late. She was locked on, and Trevor Belmont, shockingly, was just as taken with her as she seemed to be longingly looking at him. “Are you coming or not?” The Witch asked him plaintively. In such a soft vulnerable voice, it was nearly lost in the roar of their spells. Yoko refused to admit there was a familiarity to how this woman spoke to her great-grandfather.

 

Fuck me. Yoko stared in disbelief as Trevor fucking Belmont... The same Trevor who was so distraught over the the torture and mutilation of his dearly beloved... The Trevor Belmont who had one fucking job, which was to stay back and protect that beloved... That Trevor Belmont... Walked right in between the drawn battle lines and almost took the woman responsible for all of this strife's goddamn motherfucking outstretched hand! He was behind the Lilû wall, given permission and safe passage through by the demon familiar without hesitation on it's part. The High Priestess allowed him to breach her magickal barrier. She had him! All it had taken was to just ask him a simple question, hold out her hand and he walked right to her! “Fuck me!” She now screeched. “Trevor, seriously, what the fuck!?”

 

“Seriously.” Joachim echoed, features blank and tone impartial.

 

It was the least likely source that saved the day. The unknown Trump card. Neither the Witch nor Lilû was expecting the paradoxically obedient Trevor Belmont to be carrying a Dhampyre bomb with him when he crossed enemy lines. The bomb he set off standing inches from the Witch, with that one hand he almost took the High Priestess' with, instead reaching into his hood to give the wounded blind bat something to cling to and pull itself free. It happened so fast, Alucard shifting back into proper form and pouncing on the Witch just as Trevor rounded on the Shadow and looped his whip around it's throat like a choke-hold, lifting the smaller creature off it's feet. The noise that supposedly ancient Desire demon made was like a squawking parrot. Just as earsplitting and annoying as the green and blue little bird. It suited it, considering it was currently being strangled by a green and blue whip. Poetry in motion, right? There was a blinding flash of light, but other than dazzling Yoko for a bit, she could see the lithe little demon was not expecting to still have Trevor choking the life out it when the flash died down. Like a good little familiar, it did at that moment decide that if it couldn't help itself, it could at least help it's Master.

 

The wings shrunk and out came a long whip-like tail in their stead. This was used to snake between Alucard and the woman, their own magickal tug-o-war taking place near the warping wall of stone, and soundly shove the Witch through her portal to who knows where. Blind as he was Alucard stilled, confused, fresh blood on his hands, turning his body towards the last place he'd felt her and lunged. It was too late, though. Without her actively channelling it, the stone wall returned to a fixed state, trapping his arms in the bedrock. Now the squawking sound coming out of the Dhampyre was not too far off from the one Lilû was making. Back on Trevor's side of the fight, the Shadow was proving to be stronger or more wily than him, snaking out of the choke-hold but still unable to shake the hunter from catching it by the wrists. Now the only tool left was the inky membrane it controlled, so it tried to use that, the substance sliding off it's body and onto Trevor's, gliding up his arms, spreading across his shoulders. The more of it that covered Trevor, the less of it there was to conceal the demon within.

 

“Fuck me.” Yoko uttered again once the face of the demon was finally exposed. What else could she say? If it wasn't for the fact Trevor was wearing clothes, you could hardly tell them apart from one another. The hunter had an inch or two at most over the Shadow and some pants, and the Shadow had flawless skin and double the length of bouncy healthier-looking tresses. That was it. That was where the differences ended. The hair colour, their oh-so-unique eyes... They were both tiny Julius'. They even... both seemed to be pulling their punches? Yoko couldn't quite say about the Shadow, although it still had yet to initiate any kind of offensive and maybe that was just it's nature. To be gentle and out of the way, not front and centre. Maybe the Witch had corrupted it into being here in the first place. But she had grown up with hunters and had Julius around all her life. She knew when Jules was holding back, and Trevor seemed to be doing the same thing. But the Shadow was an animal, and sooner or later a frightened animal was going to fight back. That was just nature.

 

It was about then that Joachim decided Alucard's predicament was going to keep him sufficiently out of trouble if left on his own, so instead he moved in a blink of an eye to get in between Trevor and the Shadow. Just as Yoko had sensed Lilû was backed too far into the wall to respond in any other fashion but a last ditch attack, so had the Vampyre. She could feel it through their link, his concern and instinct to protect what he now considered his. And that was when Yoko made the second dire mistake of this rescue. She saw it happen. Watched Joachim pull Trevor right out of the inky substance, tearing him free with a visible effort. She saw Lilû's pretty little face grin mischievously, a cat with mouse. Yoko knew that the creature they had seen was ancient and poorly understood according to the erased Belmont Bestiary entry. It was a glutton that did not eat meat. It could fly, glide and swim. But it was not so fast at any of these things, other than gliding from tree to tree. It could also sap all of your strength with a touch, but it had to be skin to skin.

 

Yoko saw Lilû was practically naked, it's oily membrane all but torn and burned away, floating about in the air all around them. She knew what was fated to happen. She knew she should cut the tether between herself and Vampyre before it happened. But for some reason she didn't move fast enough. She was her own bystander effect, while also being the one by proxy to meet tragedy. Lilû surged forward and kissed Joachim. She didn't think it had to kiss him, she thinks instead that it just wanted to, so it did. Demon logic... Which was to say probably just poor impulse control. Either way Lilû is kissing Joachim, and through him, kissing her. She feels it's effect on Joachim. A Desire demon without peer, overpowering and pulling an equally ancient Vampyre under it's spell. She falls with him. It's bliss. Pure bliss to have this tiny little creature slide up against her body, even though she knows it's going to hurt her in the end.

 

La Petite Mort.

 

That thought came from Joachim. She's pretty sure it means little death. She's pretty sure that is just fancy French pomp for orgasm. Joachim may have had one kissing the Lilû. Yoko really hopes so, cause she doesn't want to feel embarrassed and alone by having her own little death solo. She wants the trauma bonding over it later. She wants to joke twenty years later when none of this matters the slightest about that one time she creamed her own pants with a Vampyre because a sex demon sex pestered them. Then the death part of the little death hits. There is another blindingly bright flash of light and Yoko feels Joachim's tether snap against both their wills, There just isn't anything on Joachim's part to maintain it after the flash. They are separate entities again, but she feels hollow, empty, and completely drained. He was truly the only thing keeping her on her own two feet this whole night. Joachim is dazed, slumped, and being pulled away from the Shadow by Trevor.

 

Lilû is still a runner first, and rather than press forward with it's upper hand, instead takes its first opportunity to scamper off. Yoko can only watch. She can barely move her legs. Trevor is busy trying to get Joachim on his feet, or at least to sit up under his own power. She is too exhausted to help that effort, let alone try and puzzle out how they are supposed to get Alucard's arms out of the bedrock wall. A little pair of hands are pulling her up though. She rolls her head to the side and sees it's the teenage girl she had entirely forgotten about. She was a pretty shitty babysitter, it seems. The girl is still shell-shocked and quiet, but it's clear she now sees Yoko as the safe bet and they're in it for the long haul. Whatever it is.

 

“That was pretty ballsy, Trevor.” Yoko croaks out, voice harsh from all the yelling over the prior cacophony of sounds. “I can't believe we almost had them both and they're now both gone. You really had me going when you walked right up to her. I don't know what I was expecting, but certainly not what happened.” Trevor gives her a shake of the head and goes back to prodding Joachim, annoying him enough that the demon does crawl to his feet out of sheer spite alone. It seems Trevor only wanted him up and semi-functional so that he could ask him to help Alucard. Trevor's a bit of an asshole sometimes, but Yoko's got a growing respect for just how sudden his assholery strikes. It's a precise science with him, and always self-serving.

 

So Yoko watches Joachim fresh from the consequences of one brunette little devil's demands get dragged off by the identical twin to do this one's bidding next. The Vampyre is either in his own state of shock, or simply too out of it to do anything but what he's asked. Peeling off his leather jacket to roll up his sleeves and start chipping away at the stone with a few well placed elbow strikes. Between the two of them they do manager to break enough stone free for Alucard to pull out of the rest of it on his own. It's kinds of ironic. The two demons well known for their stamina and strength, currently the meekest and weakest out of them all. Yoko doesn't really find it cute when Alucard and Joachim collapse into each other and slide down to the ground so as to rest against the offending wall, but she does find it very interesting when removed from all ability to care for social norms or propriety, that they easily seek out one another. That even with Trevor here, the kitty-cat chooses to curl up in the Vampyre's lap when given the first chance.

 

That is what is happening too. Alucard weakly crawls into place, resting his head on the Vampyre's shoulder, arms slung loosely around his neck. He even draws his knees up as if trying to fit entirely within the other demon's confines. Alucard is blind. He can't see that there are others witnessing him do such a thing with such naked vulnerability. Alucard can only feel what he wants to feel, seek out what he thinks he needs. What he appears to need is Joachim tiredly putting a hand on his waist and curling another around his back. It's the Vampyre letting his head fall to the side so it rests against the Dhampyre's. He needs the comfort and safety of the powerful elder demon. Joachim seems to need to be needed by the Dhampyre as well in this dazed intimate little moment. They are both where they want to be, both with who they want to be with, so they close their eyes. Everything else be damned.

 

Yet strangest of all, Trevor doesn't seem to be bothered by the demons canoodling right in front of him. Rather he seems relieved Alucard feels safe enough to close his eyes and rest for a bit. After some fussing over the sleeping Dhampyre to ensure he's not been further injured by the tussle with the Witch, Trevor nods to himself satisfactorily. The hunter watches them for a moment, reaching a hand out to brush the matted gross hair from Alucard's face tenderly, before doing the same for Joachim. It's not without affection for the Vampyre, either. It's a little weird considering all the pining and waiting and angst he's been slinging and catching to and from 'his Dhampyre', but admittedly, Yoko has never dated a demon before. Maybe this broad open relationship thing just went with the territory. You may fall for a demon and they for you but just remember, they might already have a demon spouse in the wings. Buyer beware. Yoko finds herself contemplating the merits of that demon marriage suddenly. The she remembered they were still down a man.

 

“I am starting to think something awful has happened to Jules.” Yoko states, watching the demons rest. It's astounding how such white skin can blanch even further under duress. “If he was chasing Lilû then why didn't he chase it back in here?” Of course Yoko is left in the company of the one person who can't answer her back, and a teenager who has no idea who Julius even is. She sighs and is ready to give up and catch five, but the universe has other plans for their merry band. “Why do a hear a roar in this cave?”

 

That last open question breaks Trevor away from his quiet reverie, staring down at the two demons he's either adopted or been adopted by. His brown head tilts and eyes screw up as he listens. Tapping his ear he nods towards her. He hears it too. That dull roar. Steady and constant, but gradually growing closer. Trevor follows his ears to the corridor leading down towards where they first found Alucard and pauses, listening again. Yoko takes note of how he stumbles back, and breaks out into a run, sliding into place at the demon pair's side to shake them awake.

 

“That can't be good.” Yoko sighs. Nothing about anything today has been good.

 

Of course Alucard is deaf, but Joachim is roused enough to take note of Trevor's urgency and then alert enough for his own smaller elf ears to turn towards that very same stone hallway. Whatever Joachim hears lights a fire under his ass. He's snatched his coat and is on his feet with Alucard hauled up into his arms in no time flat. “We are leaving now.” He decrees, levitating up into the air. There is a palpable fear radiating from him as he makes the statement. When Trevor tries to reach Yoko to let her know what the problem is, he is plucked up by an invisible tendril of Joachim and pulled right back to the demons' side, feet dangling in the air uselessly. “I said now, Bunny.”

 

Yoko is left with a growing roar, an unsettling fear of the unknown, and a teen-aged stranger to care for and keep safe. “I think we should follow those guys.” She tells the paralyzed nervous thing at her side. “I think that would be a very good idea. Let's go.” The sorceress concludes, pulling the girl along after her, dimly aware that their footsteps in the dark are suddenly a lot less clip-clop and a lot more splish-splash.

 

It doesn't take a genius to figure out what that dull roar is; The cave is filling up. Which is fine. She's fine. Everything is going to be fine. There's only a long narrow winding pathway to cross and a little wall to scale. It's perfectly doable, and they've got the time. The girl is young and while slight, looks like she may have done ballet or gymnastics. Maybe she could even help poor old Yoko with her broken rib scale that last obstacle to freedom, now that Joachim has forced the entourage she was counting on to do so originally to ditch her. Really. She'll be fine. So they do not run because the last thing Yoko needs is for either of them to twist their ankles or break any other bones. The girl and she are going to get out of this together. They do not run even when their steps are burgeoning into a wade. The cave exit is close now, as they can feel the ghost of an outside breeze, and it's a wonderfully hopeful little feeling to have in her chest until she sees by chance alone there is a figure bobbing in the gloomy waters just off side the scale-able wall.

 

“Jules!” Yoko exclaims before she's even certain it's him. It is, and she ignores all the agony in her side tugging his face and body up out of the water causes. The elder hunter is non-responsive and she can't tell because of the wet and the dark if he's breathing or what. “Jules!” Shaking him does nothing, and now Yoko begins to panic. Things are not fine. Things are not doable. How the ever loving fuck is a teen-aged girl and her broken rib self supposed to scale the wall Yoko doesn't even think she'd make under her own power right now solo while carrying Julius Belmont? The panic and urgency is so dire, the sorceress can't even spare a second to be furious the Vampyre hadn't spared a second to take him with them. There is no way the demon overlooked the injured hunter. Joachim could have taken him along his flight, she's sure. Or come back for him!?

 

It dawns on her that she is not going to be able to leave him. She'll never live with herself if she scrambles out looking for help that might not be there, because she knows she'll never come back in to try and get him. If she leaves... She'll abandon Julius. She's not ready to make that decision, so she gets the small girl's attention and tells her to climb. To look for a man with brown hair and make him come back to help. Trevor won't leave them. She puts all her chips on the teen-aged witch who has no reason to help her and every reason to scramble away and let them both drown. The girl goes, and Yoko fights to drag Julius up the rocky embankment as high as she can get them without needing to climb. It's the best she can do.

 

It feels like way too long a time passes, fear churning in her gut that this is it. Joachim took his pets and ran. How did the water level rise so fast? How was it that a cave system could flood like this so easily? So completely? Because it is not natural obviously. The sorceress tries in vain not to think about how she once read drowning was one of the most painful and terrifying ways to die, crying softly as her traitorous messed-up brain does anyway, but no one will ever know that's how she went out, thankfully. Small solace.

 

She doesn't exactly see so much as she hears the scraping of boots above her, seeing as how her eyes are shut with terror, and she doesn't trust herself enough to open them and find out she was just imagining the rescue. There would be no dignified death if she did. It's the insistence of the hand shaking her that breaks the spell paralyzing her into inaction, and she finds with renewed courage that Trevor Belmont came back for them. It doesn't matter that she's crying now. Great-Grandpa is here and it's going to be okay. It's doable again.

 

Trevor is urging her to climb, and she can see higher up that his whip is dangling not too far above. A lifeline to the outside she can use to climb far more swiftly out of danger that by seeking out purchase amongst the rocks. When she hesitates, unsure how Trevor Belmont is going to carry Jules out alone, she can see the younger hunter has already considered that problem, solving it by throwing Jules over his back and strapping the old man in place with the Vampyre Killer like a human knapsack. Yoko scrambles as fast as she can so that Trevor can follow after swifter. He's going to need to use his own dangling whip to make it up carrying Jules like that.

 

There is a terribly loud crash and splash, and suddenly the water level shoots up dramatically, knocking Trevor off the embankment briefly. There is no need to scream, though Yoko does anyway, as the younger hunter claws his way back to the wall and begins to start climbing the old fashioned way until she's clear and out of his way. Knowing the best way to help is to move, Yoko grits her teeth and presses onward. If she breaks another rib or two, or her free floating bone punctures a lung just freeing up the whip for Trevor to save Julius, that's more than a fair price to pay. The crawl out into the early morning light is disorientating, but she manages to turn around and slump just beyond the low hanging stone, waiting for her Belmont crew to make it.

 

Of course... Just bloody of course... It's not that easy.

 

The roots the end of Trevor's whip is anchored to is straining under the weight of two men and the roaring water that pulls at them. It's giving away too fast. They won't make it unless she does something, Yoko realizes, but the only thing she can think to do is grab for the braided metal and leather and hold on for dear life. It's stupid and desperate, as there is no way she could hope to support their weight even without the injury, exhaustion and water yanking them back in. But when the root snaps it's Yoko's weak hold on the jagged metal tearing her hands to ribbons that keeps them from the cusp of death. She's dragged back down towards the death chasm and only her boots on either side of the small opening are giving her the leverage to stay in place, hands shredding beyond recognition. Just as it's becoming too much to bear and she screams again, this one a mournful wail that her shitty grip strength is going to be the reason she has to bury her newest family members come dawn, another tiny pair of hands joins hers.

 

The little teen-aged witch is helping her hold on, and Yoko hopes to get her name after so that she can to call her first born after the saint. Hopefully it's a girl, or this little witch wonder has a unisex name. Yoko'd rather not have a 'Boy names Sue' situation, but she will if that's what it comes down to. Then to both their immense relief, a large pair of hands are brushing theirs aside and blind, deaf, scarred but oh so fucking beautiful right now Alucard is winding the whip handle around his grip and hauls the Belmont brunette duo out. With one firm yank. That the silver is searing his flesh doesn't seem to register, and Yoko actually has to reach out and unravel the weapon to spare him further harm. When she turns back Trevor is already dragging a limp Julius away from the cave, stopping when he's satisfied that they can't possible slip back in to kneel down and pound of Jules' chest until the old man sputters and coughs out a disturbing amount of water. It's a struggle for Julius, and everyone is too shocked or subdued to offer any further help.

 

Jules sits up with a thousand yard stare into the expanse of the woods, while Trevor wears the same look, rubbing small thoughtless circles on the elder looking Belmont's back as his horrors of war gaze drifts towards Alucard. They're drenched from head to toe, and shivering.

 

Yoko cries again, and it just so happens the little girl beside her has the same idea too. So she holds out an arm and lets the little witch huddle into her so they can cry together. For a while nobody moves, other than to shiver in the November cold in their sopping wet clothes. Some more wet than others. Then Yoko finds she can pull herself together enough to accuse the Vampyre she knows is watching them passively of his own brand of sublime assholery. “You left him to die.” Her voice is robotic. It has to be because the only other option is shrill shrieking rage. “You fucking passed right by him and left him to die.”

 

“Please.” Joachim answers her, unseen. She won't look in his direction. “I had my hands full with Kitten. The Little One was sufficient enough assistance until the roots gave way, and when he no longer was sufficient, I had already gotten Kitten back on his feet to offer another hand. You're all fine now, are you not?”

 

“I can't believe you, but also, I like, can't even blame you either. You're a Vampyre.” She spits out, disgusted. “You don't give a shit, and it's my fault for thinking you would for the briefest moment.”

 

“Little sorceress, really?” Joachim chides, and she hates how amused he sounds at her vitriol. “Exactly whose power were you allowed to abuse all night, remind me? I risked life and limb for you all tonight, even facing down the progenitor of my species because I had such unnecessary feelings... Because I, if you'll pardon the stolen phrase, gave a shit.” The Vampyre's voice dropped dangerously. “I do not believe in doing for others what they can do for themselves. You were all fine. Combined, you were all enough to surmount this. I am correct, yes? You are all still here, after all.”

 

“Whatever, dude.” Yoko exhaled. “I don't have the energy for you right now.” Inhaling deeply, she turned towards Trevor and Jules and tried to climb to her feet. With the little witch's help, she made it. “Come on. We need to get back to the car before we all die of hypothermia. Is Julius okay? Is he hurt?” Stumbling over to her mentor, she could see the blooming red soaking his tattered shirt as much as the water he'd just been pulled from. Alarmed, Trevor helped her pull enough of his garments aside revealing four deep gouges raking from his belt to his shoulder. “All right, Jules. Maybe you win the award for most badass battle-scar today.”

 

To their combined relief, her observation and surrender seemed to shake the old man out of his stupor. He gave a breathless huff of a laugh and let them pull him to his feet. “Who is the girl?” Asking once he had his equilibrium back.

 

“Joachim saved you her, he says. As a witness.” Yoko replied softly, out of earshot of the once more taciturn teen witch. “She's been cooperative, but silent, and seems to be attached to me. I guess I am the most familiar thing to her out of the lot of us. I'll keep her with me while we trudge back, don't worry.”

 

“Thanks. I...” Whatever it was Julius had started to tell her died off. He clamped his mouth and shook his head. “Later. People can die of exposure on a summer night under the right conditions. We should move.”

 

It was enough to get Trevor moving, grabbing Julius' backpack and retrieving Alucard's sword they had hidden just outside the coven's former front door, he balled up the Dhampyre's sopping wet jacket and shoved it inside, replacing the void the from the cloak he handed them to share with it. Gear in hand, the little charmer next helped the girl back to her feet with a sweet disarming smile and a gentle outstretched hand. He even walked her over to Yoko's side to hand off, choosing to carry Jules' stuff for him with another small smile, before finding his way back to where Alucard still stood off-side. The Dhampyre was allowed a moment to collapse into him again, a brief, exhausted embrace, before he was deftly getting that mess of a demon together enough to shift back into a portable bat form. Alucard now stored back in his wet hood, the middle man in the demon love-triangle returned to the Vampyre's side and Yoko watched emotionlessly while the younger looking hunter thread his fingers for just a moment into the side of Joachim's hair, hand sliding down just a little for an affectionate stroke along the side of his face. Having the Vampyre's full attention he motioned with his head that they needed to get going.

 

Joachim's expression was unreadable for the handful of seconds he stood contemplating the gesture, but he nodded in agreement and started to follow Trevor, the pair of them gaining ground well ahead of Yoko, Julius and their new little witness. Demon stamina on the Vampyre's part, but who could say what was keeping Trevor Belmont so ready for action? At some point they did pause briefly, but it wasn't to wait for the 'humans' to catch up, it was so Joachim could shrug out of his leather coat and give it to the smaller hunter to keep warm, soaked as he was. To Trevor's credit, he did glance back at her with the offered protection against the late November air still in hand, but understood her glare for what it meant, even with the distance between them. She was not Joachim's girl, and no way in hell was she going to wear his jacket. She'd rather stay shivering in the cloak with Jules and the little witch. It was appreciated that he would have given it to her otherwise though.

 

Trevor seemed to have no qualms slipping into it. Then again, Yoko was starting to believe Trevor was more comfortable when surrounded by demons than in any other situation or company. Must be a Belmont Hunter thing. Surround yourself with the supernatural for so long, it's the more natural to you.

 

“It took so long to get here due to the traps, but we're nearly half-way free.” She murmured to Julius who walked at the other side of the little witch between them. “I don't sense anything in the woods at all, but I am spent, Jules. Do you think we're being followed?”

 

Julius was quiet for a long enough moment she'd be forgiven for thinking he hadn't heard her, but it seems he had simply been scanning the canopy and the sea of trees surrounding them. “I don't sense anything either, but... I don't think we're safe, Yoko. I believe we need to return to home base pronto... And I believe it's grown beyond Alucard's pet project. I think Liza's got to hear about this now.”

 

“I am with you on all points.” Spoken in solidarity, the sorceress added. “Let's talk about how we present this whole ballooning problem later. Like you said.”

 

Again, there was a moment where it looked like Julius wanted to tell her something but he shut down real quick and shook his head. However, this time the elder Belmont's eyes drifted tellingly towards his younger counterpart up ahead and narrowed suspiciously. Interesting... Yoko mulled over the shift in dynamics. Whatever happened to Julius when he ran off solo was giving him some deep Trevor Belmont thoughts, and they perhaps were not good ones. Julius hadn't even been around to see the Lilû's oh so familiar-looking face that she was aware of. There was so much to discuss and break down, but they didn't have the luxury trudging through the woods with an enemy captive. Even if the captive was a child. She did have some burning questions for Alucard too. He had seen it's face almost six months ago. He never once revealed the Shadow Monster looked like an even more compact version of his boytoy. She cast a glance at Julius and wondered. Are you like a Pokémon, Jules? Do I have to catch every evolutionary stage of you? Which one of you would be the final form?

 

Arriving at their destination presented yet another problem, and this one couldn't be solved by Trevor's quick thinking. Alucard was blind and deaf. Julius' brain had been wiped of all driving skills from a spell thirty years ago. Yoko's hands were shredded beyond use. Trevor had no idea how cars worked and they were absolutely not letting a teenage girl get behind the wheel of the car. So how the hell were they supposed to drive themselves back to lick their wounds? After an awkward standstill where Yoko suggested maybe she could talk Julius though it just this one time, the Vampyre amongst them sighed heavily and snatched the keys from her mangled hands.

 

“For the love of...” He muttered, but caught himself. “Get in right now before I change my mind and leave you here.” With the command spat with such discontent, he slipped behind the wheel and busied himself adjusting all the settings to accommodate a Vampyre man as opposed to the tiny sorceress who had first driven them there.

 

Julius helped Trevor store their gear and peeled his own wet coat off, handing Yoko his spare he packed to slip into. This coat she was cool with taking, and did so with an appreciative noise. Cargo settled now, he directed the girl to climb into the middle seat in the back and slipped in after her, telling Yoko to sit in the front to give directions if needed. Trevor and bat-Alucard climbed in behind the driver's seat and waited patiently for Yoko to sigh heavily before slipping into the passenger side, wondering what else could go wrong this day. She didn't say it out loud, fearing it would manifest destiny. All settled in, they waited.

 

And waited.

 

Joachim was done fiddling with his seat and the mirrors, but he hadn't turned the key in the ignition yet.

 

“Do you actually know how to drive? What are you waiting for?” Yoko finally asked, exasperated.

 

“For you all to buckle up.” The Vampyre snapped back immediately. When he'd sufficiently badgered them all into complying with safety, the car was started and thus began the smoothest, safest, most perfect driving demo Yoko had ever witnessed. The car didn't even rock a little stopping at the signs, or yielding, or anything. Perfectly maintained following distances for their current cruising speed, always within the limit, and always courteously sharing the road. It was pretty fucking weird, but somehow... Also on brand. The obsessive adherence to the rules of the road. Joachim would give any psychologist a field day.

 

It occurred to her she was not giving any directions, that she had no idea where he was taking them, and that is was probably prudent to ask. “Where are we going, new buddy?” She hedged, trying to keep civil. There were a lot of emotions she was going to have to work through about the things she saw tonight perpetuated by both the Moroi in her current company.

 

“To the bald one.” Joachim answered tersely.

 

“To... Hammer? You know-”

 

“The bald one is the one I find most tolerable of you livestock.” Joachim cut her off. “Of course I know where the bald one stays now. I followed him home so I would know where to go if I needed him. It turns out that I now need him. My forethought will be appreciated, I hope.”

 

Okay that's also on brand and a lot to unpack. I am going to have to warn Hambone he's inherited my former stalker. Yoko sighed, but left it for later.

 

Folding down the visor against the morning sun, her eyes drifted to the mirror, and through its reflection, the silent bodies she could study in the backseat. The quiet withdrawn girl, no sign of fight or even life in her. A captive amongst what she probably thought were enemies, maybe wondering if they were taking her to her death or worse. The people she'd been taken from were murderers, after all. She had no reason to expect Yoko and crew were any different. The other pair she could watch was Trevor and his black mass of fur sprawled haphazardly on his lap, spread out for the casual, mindless petting that was taking place. Easy smiling Trevor, who'd been so assuring and disarming for the little witch looked grim and deeply troubled, unaware his distress was being observed by another party, most likely. If he'd known she was studying him he would have masked his raw emotions, she feels quite strongly.

 

Yoko wonders what Trevor Belmont thinks of the Lilû, now that he too has seen its true face. She knows he's had a recent run-in with a mirror and his own visage, on account of her showing him how much he looks like a Julius from three decades ago. She wonders too why the Witch seemed to think Trevor would just come right to her. Why the High Priestess was so certain he would join her willingly, she let him through her shield. Lilû let Trevor through its guard as well. It had to mean something, and by experience, that something was not good.

 

Jules was very correct. There was a lot that needed to be left for later.

 

For now, Yoko closed her eyes and enjoyed the white noise of the smoothest ride she'd ever partook.

 

Notes:

This Chapter would not end. It was a beast I fought tooth and nail. I'm not even sure it's dead yet.