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It took Guillermo five days to break out of the coffin. All he’d had on him when Lazlo had stabbed him in the back was was two backup stakes, one fancy stake, a tiny bottle of holy water, his heavy duty iron crucifix, and a pocket knife.
The pocket knife had broken immediately, so he ended up jimmying the lid open using the crucifix and what little leverage he could get in the cramped space.
He’d been sweaty and stinking and hungry and pissed off by the time he clawed his way out, nearly giving the sailor inspecting the cargo hold a heart attack.
Guillermo was not sympathetic. “Did you not hear me screaming?” he asked once the sailor had finished gibbering.
The sailor shrugged helplessly. The whole crew was in the employ of the Vampiric Council, as it turned out, and were used to ignoring weird sounds coming from the hold.
“You know, whatever,” Guillermo said. “Take me to the captain.”
He ended up holding the captain by his lapels over the railing, the setting sun coloring the scene in dramatic red and orange. Some strategic threats later and Guillermo had himself a nice cabin and the ship was on its way to the Strait of Gibraltar.
Under normal circumstances, a slow cruise across the Mediterranean would have sounded heavenly, but Guillermo wasn’t here to relax. He was too aware of the passage of time, stuck in the middle of the sea on a cargo ship not built for speed. Every day he was stuck on this boat was another that Nandor was out there alone. Who knew what trouble he was getting into. Who knew what he was thinking, as day after day Guillermo failed to show up.
Guillermo spent the entire trip pacing back and forth across the deck, barely noticing the sparkling blue water and sunny skies while the crew gave him a wide, nervous berth.
Underneath the deck, Nadja slumbered, blissfully unaware.
They landed in Turkey, because Guillermo didn’t feel up to the headache of trying to smuggle himself in and out of Iraq, and a few days later he was stealing across the border of Iran. That nonsense in Atlantic City had given him a lot of good practice, and meant that he actually knew where to go. A bit of hasty research in the back of a car on a clunky laptop with a satellite uplink even let him track down the correct river, just straddling the border.
The travel and the research and the fitful sleep snatched one hour at a time in transit left him no time to think about how he didn’t actually know that Nandor would be there. It was even likely that he wouldn’t, since Al Quolindar and the river and Guillermo’s destiny were supposed to be the very last stop in their whirlwind tour—the honeymoon before the wedding, Guillermo had half-guiltily, half-giddily thought to himself.
But when Guillermo had smashed his way out of the coffin, his first thought had been I wish this guy wouldn’t scream so loud, and his second had been I need to get to Iran right the fuck now. He hadn’t paused long enough since to consider how much sense that actually made. Nothing was guiding him but desperation and the keen hunter’s instinct that had once let him track a vampire through twelve miles of abandoned subway tunnel.
He was jittery with Turkish coffee and sleep deprivation when he made it to the banks of the Tigris.
The moon was peeking out furtively from the clouds, giving the scene a look of unreality. There were no other humans around for miles. Hopefully.
Guillermo stopped on the rocky bank of the river and just stood there for a while. Now that he was here, he didn’t know what to do. He’d made the journey here in a fugue state of anger and desperation, but that all seemed to drain out of him as he watched the river lap at its banks. Quiet, still, not caring that he was there.
There was no reason he’d assumed Nandor would be here, other than desperate wishful thinking. Desperate wishful thinking was something Guillermo was good at, but it had never gotten him what he wanted, and it wasn’t about to now.
Sighing, Guillermo took one more look around the empty bank, then turned away, feeling stupid, ready to begin the trek back to his Jeep.
“Oh, look who has come crawling back.”
Guillermo whipped back around. There, standing where he definitely hadn’t been five seconds ago, was Nandor. His dark hair and cloak almost seemed to blend into the night, moving in the light wind. It was dramatic. It was sexy. It was such a relief to see him.
“Master,” Guillermo said, taking a step forward.
Nandor held up a hand, stopping him in his tracks. “Is that what I am?” he sneered.
“I can explain,” Guillermo said. “It’s not what you think.”
“Yes, I’m sure you have an great explanation.” Nandor made a snorting noise, looking away. “Always you are with the explanations, and the scheming, and the lying. Well, I don’t want to hear it. I don’t even want to see you.”
Guillermo didn’t ask why Nandor had shown up if he didn’t want to see him. “I know you’re angry, master,” he said, “but if you’d just calm down—”
That had been the wrong thing to say. Nandor puffed up like an indignant cat.
“You betrayed me! I felt very silly waiting in the train station only for you not to come!” Nandor spun on his heel, his cloak flaring dramatically. Guillermo scrambled to follow.
“I didn’t betray you!” Guillermo shouted after him. “Lazlo betrayed me! And you. And Nadja!”
“Leave me alone!” Nandor yelled over his shoulder. “I don’t want you here anymore. I am having so much fun exploring my home country by myself, all alone! Even though it’s completely different and very confusing!”
“Can we stop yelling? Maybe stop and talk? If you’d just listen—“
“No!”
“Christ,” Guillermo muttered under his breath. He quickened his pace, jogging after Nandor. It would have been easier if Nandor wasn’t leading them uphill. And if there were maybe some stairs instead of this loose, dry dirt that kept crumbling under Guillermo’s shoes. “Nandor! Nandor, stop for a second—”
They came up to the top of the small hill and suddenly Guillermo found see for miles in every direction. The moon had escaped the clouds and it outlined everything in silvery light. Craggy rocks and scrubby trees and the simple expanse of natural landscape. The distant roads were hidden in the shadows of the hills. Guillermo knew if he went forty miles in any direction, he’d end up in some bustling town, but here, right now, it looked like a place where no one lived at all.
It was beautiful. Maybe it was the beauty that made Nandor pause too, his back still to Guillermo.
“Master?” Guillermo tried. Nandor’s already stiff shoulders stiffened further.
“Guillermo,” he said tightly. He sighed, gusty and faint, and turned his head so Guillermo could see his face in profile. “Why did you come here?”
“I thought—” Guillermo said and stopped. Truthfully, he hadn’t been thinking much of anything other than he really needed to get back to Nandor. “We were supposed to come here together. I thought maybe I’d find you here.”
“Ha,” Nandor said humorlessly. “Do you want to know what I was thinking? As I traveled alone?”
“What?”
“I was thinking maybe having a vampire hunter as a bodyguard was not as ‘cool’ as I thought it would be. I was thinking maybe it was only a matter of time until you betrayed me.”
Guillermo bit back several very pointed responses that wouldn’t be productive, would only hurt Nandor’s feelings further, and would probably make him turn into a bat and fly away. Guillermo didn’t want to have to chase a bat in the dark.
“That’s not what happened,” he said, trying to project calm confidence. This was just a misunderstanding. Like a thousand little misunderstandings they’d had. They’d figure it out and everything would go back to normal.
Nandor made a dismissive gesture in the air. “Whatever. I don’t care, and I don’t need you here. You can go.”
Okay, Nandor felt like being difficult. That was fine.
“I’m not going,” Guillermo said, planting his feet.
“What do you think is going to happen?” Nandor scoffed. “Do you think you can trick me again? Do you think I will take you back as my familiar?”
“I’m not your familiar,” Guillermo said, hanging on to calm by a thread. “I’m your bodyguard, and you made me a promise.”
Nandor wheeled on him. “What did I promise you? Did you come here to ask me to make you a vampire again? Now? Is this all you’ve ever cared about?”
Guillermo ground his jaw. There was no reasoning with Nandor when he got like this, but he had to try anyway, because the alternative was walking away and never seeing Nandor again. “I know you’re angry, but that’s not what happened. But I would never abandon you—“
Nandor snarled wordlessly at him, lips curling back to reveal his fangs.
“No, shut up!” Guillermo shouted, his precarious hold on calm snapping. “When have I ever willingly left your side? Even when you push me away, I’m always there for you! Use your brain for a second! Why would I leave just when you’ve offered me everything I ever fucking wanted? I didn’t come to train station because Lazlo nailed me in a coffin and sent me off on Nadja’s ship! I had to hijack it to get here! I think I’m legally a pirate now!”
Nandor had backed up a little during Guillermo’s rant. He didn’t say anything, his grim silence none too encouraging. “So, just—“ Guillermo continued, losing a bit of steam. “Just. Look, I’m here now. We’re both here now, and does it really matter that there were a couple snags on the way? I mean,” Guillermo spread his hands, indication the vast, dark landscape, “this is where you wanted to bring me. You said that.”
“So I did,” Nandor said slowly. “Here, I promised to feed you my own heart’s blood and induct you into the unholy society of the night. That I did promise. And a warrior never breaks a promise, on pain of death.”
Guillermo relaxed fractionally, but Nandor wasn’t done talking. “So, you’ll have to kill me for it.”
“What?” Guillermo said.
“You want my blood? Come and get it.” Nandor shifted into a fighting stance, drawing a long, curved knife out of his belt. “Or are you a coward as well as a betrayer?”
Guillermo dropped his bag. It landed with a thump on the dry dirt.
“I’ve beat you once before, Master,” he said, shifting his weight onto his back foot, hand drifting to his side, where he had his favorite stake strapped. The fancy one with the silver hilt.
“I let you win,” Nandor scoffed. “I won’t go easy this time. Not after you insulted me.”
“After I insulted—I didn’t want to be nailed into a coffin, you know!”
“Oh?” Nandor cocked his head to the side. “I thought you were a big, bad vampire slayer. If you didn’t want Lazlo to put you in a coffin—” before Guillermo could blink, Nandor was in front of him, knife sweeping down “—you should have stopped him.”
Guillermo only just brought his stake up in time to deflect the blow. The blade striking sparks off the metal hilt.
He kicked out, trying to catch Nandor in the knee, but Nandor danced back, effortlessly graceful on his feet.
He cocked his head at Guillermo, considering. Then Guillermo found himself fighting for his life.
It really wasn’t like before. Nandor hadn’t been lying about holding back, Guillermo realized as he was driven back across the ground, feeling the impact of every barely blocked blow running up his arms.
Nandor fought hard and viscous and fast, the knife was like an extension of his arm as every slash came millimeters from slitting Guillermo open.
But Guillermo didn’t falter. Even as he was giving up ground, backing up towards the place where the hill got steep. Nandor wasn’t the first or even the oldest vampire Guillermo had fought, and he knew how it worked. As his roiling emotions faded, sublimated under his hunter’s instinct, Guillermo found that it was easier to parry Nandor’s strikes, even though they were still hellishly fast. He was too occupied keeping himself unstabbed to go for his crucifix or holy water, but if he could get a little distance—
Guillermo only just managed to block a broad, overhead swing. The sharp edge of Nandor’s dagger bit into the hard wood of the stake, and Guillermo’s shoulders ached with the force of the impact.
Nandor didn’t pull back to strike again. Instead he pressed harder, his whole weight bearing down on the knife.
Guillermo could feel his elbows buckling. As good as he was, Nandor was still stronger. A lot stronger. He could see a flash of triumph in Nandor’s eyes.
He shifted his grip, pressing the silver handle of his stake against the exposed skin of Nandor’s wrist.
Nandor grunted and flinched back.
Guillermo pressed the advantage. Breaking the hold, he thrust his stake with all his might at Nandor’s chest, and realized too late that he’d put too much force into it. Nandor wasn’t going to be able to dodge in time—
But Nandor did dodge. He twisted so the tip of the stake dragged a gash along his ribs, instead of sinking into his chest.
He hissed, teeth bared as he backed up quickly, one hand coming up to press where red was beginning to seep through his coat
Guillermo could smell the tang of first blood. It made something inside him perk up, like a hunting dog. He wanted to rush Nandor—rush this vampire while he was still off balance. Chase him into the dark night like a bloodhound after a fox.
Instead, he held himself still. Watching as Nandor raised his blood-covered hand, staring at it.
He laughed, hard and ironic.
“Guillermo, could you really kill me?” he asked.
Guillermo shifted his weight, lifting the stake and sighting down the tip, directly at Nandor’s heart. “I could kill any vampire, master. That’s who I am.”
“No, I mean,” Nandor licked his lips, “could you kill me? Me, Guillermo?”
“Of course not,” Guillermo said, exasperated, letting his stake drop. “Master, why are we fighting? We aren’t enemies. I’m sorry you’re hurt, but it wasn’t my fault. Why aren’t don’t you go back to Staten Island and fight Lazlo? Why don’t we both go back? We can drop Nadja off. Everything can go back to normal—”
He had to bring his arms up again fast to block Nandor’s swing.
“I hated normal,” Nandor snarled, spinning away again. “Don’t you remember when I hated it so much I pulled out my fangs and tried to be human? Until you ruined that as well?”
“That isn’t fair.” Guillermo chased after him, determined to take the offensive for the first time in this fight. “That weird jazzercise cult—you should be thanking me for saving you from that!”
“Oh, yes, thank you, Guillermo.” Nandor mocked. “For always getting in my way. Even now! I come to the banks of the Tigris to brood alone on the betrayal of my familiar—and look who shows up! That very same familiar. Who can’t even let me be sad and alone in peace.”
Despite being visibly upset, Nandor’s technique didn’t slip for a moment.
Guillermo knew he wasn’t going to be able to keep this up forever. Already, he could feel a stitch clawing up his side. Whereas Nandor, with his undead strength, could probably do this all night.
Then he saw an opportunity. Nandor stepped back and his shoe caught on some loose pebbles, destabilizing his stance.
With a shout, Guillermo launched himself at Nandor, dodging a frantic swipe of his knife and diving directly into his middle, bowling them both over.
They went tumbling down the hill together. Sharp stones and brambles scratching up Guillermo’s back as they rolled. But none of that mattered because Guillermo landed on top. Straddling Nandor’s chest where they’d stopped, by the bank of the river.
Guillermo, furious, with dust in his eyes and his glasses lost somewhere in the night, planted the tip of his stake in the center of Nandor’s chest. One hand to steady it, one hand wrapped around the ornate butt so that he could, if he needed to, if he wanted to, bear down on it with his whole body weight. “I can’t believe,” he said, panting, “that you’re acting like this after everything—like I never do anything for you! Like I haven’t saved your life more times than I can count! I’ve been baring my heart and my neck to you all these years, and you know what, Nandor, you can suck my dick.”
He leaned in close, over Nandor, and hissed, “You’re not going to leave me behind again, master. No more games. I’ve won.”
Nandor licked his lips, his nostril’s flaring as he inhaled. Could he smell how serious Guillermo was? Smell how much he wasn’t bluffing?
“And if I said I was leaving,” Nandor said, voice low, “without you. Again. Would you drive that stake through my heart? Would you cut my wrists open and steal my blood, which I once offered to you freely? Steal immortality for yourself and leave me a pile of dust?”
Guillermo blinked. “You can do that?”
“Er,” Nandor said, suddenly looking a mildly panicked, “no? No, wouldn’t work. No. Of course not.”
“You mean I could have just taken—“
“I’m happy you came to find me,” Nandor said hastily. “I was worried you wouldn’t. When you did not come to the train station, I thought you had changed your mind. It happens.” Nandor’s lips twisted. “It has happened to me before.”
“Oh,” Guillermo said, then he wasn’t sure what else to say. He remembered how broken up Nandor had been about Gail. It made Nandor’s words earlier seem—seem something. A little sad, maybe, instead just infuriating.
“If,” Nandor said, raising one finger cautiously, “you are not going to stake me, can you put it away? It’s making me very nervous.”
“Who said I wasn’t?” Guillermo said, but he was already slipping it back into its sheath. That left him just balanced there with his legs on either side of Nandor’s stomach; a position that seemed much more suggestive now that he wasn’t threatening Nandor’s life.
Nandor rose on his elbows, which shifted Guillermo down his body. Guillermo tried to stoically ignore it as he came to rest on Nandor’s hips, but with adrenaline still pulsing through him and no more fight to be had, it was hard.
Guillermo froze as Nandor’s hand came up to cup his cheek. “Master?” he asked.
“Guillermo,” Nandor said, then Guillermo saw the glint of a small knife in his free hand.
Before Guillermo could so much as twitch, Nandor brought the knife up, the blade flashing in the moonlight, and—drew a bloody line up the side of his own neck.
“—What?”
“Don’t be stupid, Guillermo.” Nandor rolled his eyes and pulled Guillermo in.
Guillermo ended up with his face kind of smashed against Nandor’s beard, feeling his lukewarm blood sluggishly oozing against his cheek. It smelled odd, tangy. Hesitantly, he opened his mouth and ran his tongue along the cut.
It didn’t taste great. Like pennies if pennies could somehow go off. Sour and metallic, with a meaty aftertaste that made Guillermo’s nose wrinkle even as he lapped at it, swallowing it down. It got easier the more he drank. He wasn’t sure if he was imagining it, but he thought he felt something happening. Like a buzzing spreading through his body.
Above him, Nandor made a chuffing noise in the back of his throat. His hand came up to cup the back of Guillermo’s skull, pulling him in. Guillermo glutted himself on the brackish blood until he began to feel sick. Then he drew back, dizzy.
He blinked down at Nandor, who blinked back up at him, looking as dazed as he felt.
Guillermo’s heart was pounding in his ears. He felt nauseated and over-energized, like he’d just chugged too many red bulls. The taste of Nandor’s blood lingered cloyingly on his tongue and he definitely didn’t want more of it, but he did want more of Nandor, so the only logical thing he could do was kiss him.
Nandor’s lips parted immediately under his—which was great because Guillermo had no idea what he’d do if Nandor pushed him away right now—and then Nandor was licking his own blood out of Guillermo’s mouth and that drove every single lingering thought out of Guillermo’s head.
Nandor sat all the way up, shifting Guillermo further back so he was now straddling Nandor’s thighs. Nandor’s fingers attacked the front of his cardigan, surprisingly graceful with the buttons, despite the fact that he was still kissing Guillermo and definitely couldn’t see what he was doing. Guillermo, when he tried to reciprocate, was much less graceful, but he did manage to tug the front of Nandor’s coat open without ripping anything.
He ran his fingers down Nandor’s cool chest. Even though he’d touched Nandor a thousand times helping him get dressed and undressed, the feel of his tepid but alive skin was still fascinating. Strange and magical.
Guillermo hooked his fingers into the waist of Nandor’s pants just as Nandor was pulling open his belt. Now that it was happening, it was happening so fast, but Guillermo couldn’t have stopped if he wanted to.
He wrapped his hand around Nandor’s cock and Nandor grabbed his ass and pulling his close so they were grinding up against each other. Nandor drew him out and wrapped his hand around both their cocks. Guillermo thrust up helplessly and sunk his teeth into Nandor’s bottom lip.
Then they were panting into each other's mouths as their knuckles bumped and their cocks slid slickly together. Guillermo didn’t last very long, coming with a muffled “mmph” over both their hands. Nandor followed him only a few seconds after.
In the aftermath, they collapsed into each other. Slumped and half-upright only by virtue of leaning on each other.
Guillermo relaxed by millimeters, feeling like a hot engine ticking down as it cooled, his face hidden in Nandor’s hair.
“So,” Guillermo said finally, breathy to his own ears, “we probably need to get out of here. There’s only a couple hours before dawn, and we definitely won’t be able to make it to the boat even if we fly. We should start looking for shelter. Maybe a cave or something.”
“Mm?” Nandor said into Guillermo’s shoulder. “Not a cave. Vampires don’t like caves, you are watching too many of those ‘net flicks.’ I am staying in a very nice hotel in Orumiyeh. The Guide helped me find it. She is very useful, you know. Reliable. Always on time.” Nandor said, a little pointedly. He waved vaguely eastwards. “It is half and hour flying in that direction. No need to be a rushing Richard. We have time.”
“Right,” said Guillermo. He leaned a little more heavily into Nandor. “Did you pick rushing Richard up from Colin Robinson?”
Nandor didn’t answer. Instead he pressed a kiss to Guillermo’s neck.